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First Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1131-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-one/ Previous Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3376-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-eleven/ CHAPTER TWELVE It turned out that the power plant was not our destination. We circled back into town and Hank parked the van in a lot behind a fast food strip off Albany-Post Road. Matt led us away from the building and through a densely wooded area until we reached the grassy clearing of the power company’s right-of-way. The sky was clear and the air was cool and fresh. Autumn had finally arrived, tardy but in full force. The high-voltage lines running from the plant were immediately ahead. We approached the base of the nearest tower, which must have been at least 60 feet wide. I looked around. The clearing was actually a wide tree-lined corridor that the power lines ran through on their way to New York City. There was no one in sight. “How did you know about this?” I asked. “Google Maps,” Matt said. I realized with some amusement that they had conspired to bring me here. “You knew about this the whole time.” “Yep,” Matt said. “Hank suggested it last night while you were busy worshipping yourself, not that I blame you. Anyway, there’s a large pond right there,” he said as he pointed south. “If you see anyone coming, you can jump down and submerge yourself until they leave. We’ll be in the van or at the Subway.” Hank looked at Matt. “Subway? We just ate lunch. I’m goin’ to Dunkin Donuts.” “The hell you are,” Matt said. He turned back to me. “Subway,” he repeated. “See you in an hour or so. And we expect you to be twice as big. Oh, and don’t cause a blackout.” He winked, kissed me on the chest and headed back across the grass toward the trees. Hank looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and grinned. “Guess the kid is in charge,” he said before turning away. “Wait,” I said. He turned back toward me. I stepped forward, lifted him so that he straddled my harder-than-steel cock, and put my arms around him. He may as well have been weightless, and I idly wondered how much weight my cock alone could support. I rubbed my nose against his, my beard against his cheek. “I know I’ve been self-absorbed lately,” I said. “But I love you, man. You’re still my Big Red and I don’t know what I would do without you.” I could feel him tense up and then grip me tightly as he whimpered. His breathing became heavy. “Are you listening to me or getting off?” I asked. “Sorry,” he said between breaths. “You gotta understand what you do to us.” I sighed, but I did know what I did to them. I was well aware of the power I had over others, but that didn’t make it any less inconvenient. “Did you hear me?” “Yeah. I never stopped lovin’ you, man. You know that.” I nodded. “Yeah, I know.” I kissed him gently and allowed my hands to explore his enormously muscular body. As small as he now looked compared to me, he was still Mr. Olympia, one of the largest and best-proportioned bodybuilders in the world. His size and coat of beautiful red hair still turned me on immensely. “And thanks for accepting Matt too. It’s a huge relief that you guys get along.” “What’s not to like?” Hank said. “The kid is sweet, smokin’ hot and packin’ like nobody’s business.” I smiled. “That he is,” I said as I set him back down. “I’ll see you in a bit.” As he turned away, I noted the large wet spot that had formed in the crotch of his jeans. I watched him waddle across the clearing and smiled to myself. “I love you,” I said quietly. “So, I do have some good news,” Hank’s ex-lover, Michael, said. “I believe I’m close to convincing the judge to dismiss the case.” As usual, I had met Michael at a coffee shop across the street from his office in Chelsea. What wasn’t usual was that instead of an Armani suit, he wore a Ralph Lauren polo that was one size too small. It did emphasize his tight, muscular build well and I assumed that he had a date or was meeting friends for a drink after our appointment. “I don’t get it. What about the good Samaritan law you told me about?” “One of the exceptions concerns something called imminent peril. If Karen’s parents can convince the judge that she was not in imminent peril, they can argue that your actions were reckless and unnecessary.” “Isn’t the North Tower falling down imminent peril?” “Right, that’s the question. The South Tower had already collapsed. Is it not reasonable to assume that the North Tower might also fall?” “I can’t believe this is even happening. I can’t believe they are blaming me for this. I tried to help her. I just wanted to get her out of there. They act like I forced myself on her.” “They have argued that you were trying to be a hero. They doubt she wanted to be helped. But that won’t matter if the paramedic’s deposition goes the way I think it will.” We wrapped up our meeting and I stood to leave. “I can’t thank you enough for all the help you’ve given me,” I said. Michael shook his head. “I can’t stand these bullshit lawsuits anyway,” he said as he stood and pushed his chair under the table. “They are lashing out blindly and you happened to be in the way. But...” “But?” I asked. I watched as his face flushed. “There is a way you can thank me.” “Sure,” I said. “Anything.” “I find you very attractive.” I froze and mentally replayed his last words. He was in a relationship, which made him off-limits in my book, but he was also handling a case that could destroy my life. And of course I had fallen in love with Big Red. “Man, I don’t know what to say.” I shook my head. “I’m flattered – seriously – but I love Hank.” I watched Hank until he disappeared into the trees and then turned my attention to the tower and the high-voltage lines that it supported. High-voltage transmission lines are not insulated. These were likely carrying a few hundred thousand volts – possibly five hundred thousand. I could climb up the tower, snap one of the lines in two and simply hold an end in each hand, but I had no idea how much weight the tower or a line could support. I weighed almost a half-ton already and for all I knew, this much current could double my mass – or more – in no time. On the other hand, I suspected I would be able to tell if the tower was about to fail. I began climbing until I neared the level of the high-voltage lines. The possibility also existed that the current could kill me. I deliberately did not say so to my friends, but thus far I had only been exposed to trivial voltages. These power lines were a whole new animal, but I was too hungry for them to play it safe. I would either survive or I wouldn’t. I was either a god or I wasn’t. As I reached my target, I extended my right hand, grasped a support beam tightly enough to hold on yet not hard enough to deform it (a mistake I made near the ground), and pulled myself up. It was effortless of course, yet my tremendous biceps still flexed as my arm lifted my mass. A single bolt of electricity arcing from the power line into my right biceps startled me with a loud SNAP. Instinctively, I relaxed and dropped back. Pre-cum spurted from my cock before resuming its perpetual ooze. I lifted my right arm back over my head and flexed my forearm. Sure enough, I was rewarded with another SNAP as the current was somehow attracted to the flexing muscle. I flexed it as hard as I could, reveling as my forearm exploded into a fantasy morph of extreme muscularity, fantastically thick and easily strong enough to crush pretty much anything except my own cock. My heavy-duty padlock – crushed into a lump of steel. A granite rock in Hank’s rooftop garden – crushed into sand. Hank’s bowling ball – crushed into powder. Hank was pissed, but he hadn’t bowled in years anyway. Electricity continued to arc and flash into my forearm from two of the high-voltage lines as I flexed. I watched, mesmerized by the visual display and physical sensation. I kept expecting it to burn or sting but of course it didn’t – it was warm and gentle, stimulating like a lover’s caress. I relaxed again and the light show stopped, but my cock began to spasm and pre-cum gushed forth as I realized I could redirect the current into me from not one or two but possibly all of the transmission lines at once simply by flexing. Earlier, as we left the van and walked toward the transmission tower, I had mixed feeling about growing even larger. However, now that it was so close I could taste it, I couldn’t wait. I vaulted up to the next cross member so that I was at the same level as the lines and wasted no time in flexing every voluntary muscle I possessed. I hit what could only be the most muscular most muscular pose ever and hundreds of thousands of volts of current leapt from the lines and slammed into my body. The world vanished in a blinding storm of light. I couldn’t see at first, but I could certainly feel and my entire body seemed to vibrate rapidly as it hungrily soaked up as much energy as the power lines could feed into me. After a few seconds, I could also feel myself growing hotter, not just my skin where I was in contact with the electron-conducting plasma around me, but internally where something was occurring, generating whatever matter I was now composed of. Even the temperature of my immense cock and balls soared, sending massive waves of pleasure coursing through me as I felt myself building toward what was certain to be my most epic orgasm yet. Still I flexed, pre-cum exploding from my growing, throbbing cock, overwhelmed by the orgasmic sensation of my gigantic muscles increasing in size, density and hardness. Even as my equipment unleashed gallons of my jism each minute, the pressure within my loins continued to mount higher and higher, my mind spinning in ecstasy as I felt my impossibly powerful body prepare to pump enormous volumes of my cum into a world that would soon be desperate to worship at my feet, my world, my planet of willing slaves who would thankfully submit to the absolute domination of the Alpha Stud. I continued to flex, my muscles bursting with additional mass and power, demanding greater and greater amounts of energy from the transmission lines, and my eyes relaxed so that I could see the glow of previously invisible radiation around me, the sweep of the Milky Way across the sky, the globe of the sun that showered my planet with heat and light, countless galaxies, quasars, and closer to home, the reactor cores of the Indian Point power plant, one of which was glowing more and more brightly as I sucked more energy from a system I knew was only moments away from automatically shutting down. I could feel the structure of the transmission tower begin to warp from the intense heat of the energy storm around me. I could see the transmissions lines themselves sag as they rushed ever-increasing amounts of electricity into my growing body. As large as the power generating capacity of the plant had seemed only minutes ago, it was now completely inadequate and I decided that I would order my slaves to construct one worthy of feeding my magnificent body. I imagined the joy of my already overwhelming masculinity and power increasing without limits and swung my massive arms upward, still flexing, into a spectacular double biceps pose as my reproductive equipment, now really my dominance equipment, unleashed countless gallons of cum, erupting, exploding, bursting from my harder-than-steel cock with such force that it propelled me from the collapsing transmission tower. My dense, super-heated body slammed into the ground, searing everything it came in contact with and creating a cloud of steam that dissipated as the tower’s remains fell around me in a glowing mass of twisted steel and aluminum. I was so hot that even the metal that touched me melted, forming molten puddles that vaporized any nearby moisture. At the same time, my fantastically huge cock continued to spasm wildly, throbbing, pumping, spewing my hot jism into the air like an erupting volcano. It rained down around me, melting anything it came into contact with, until finally, minutes later, my great cock rested, and everything that could fall had done so, and anything that could burn, boil or vaporize was long gone. I lay there in the molten wreckage, now aware that I was far more powerful than I had previously imagined. I stood and looked around me. I had originally hoped to keep any damage to the tower to a minimum, but as I surveyed the wreckage, I realized that I had not only destroyed the entire tower, I had completely obliterated it. There was nothing left but the concrete foundation and a smoking mass of cooling metal. My body temperature was still thousands of degrees. I needed to cool off as quickly as possible before returning to the van, so I began walking toward the pond, vaporizing the water content in the grass and earth with each step. I estimated I was about a foot taller and at least twice as massive – so heavy that my feet sank slightly into the earth, compressing the dirt. My cock was easily over two feet in length and I watched the mesmerizingly beautiful tool swing from side to side as I lumbered across the clearing. It slung my white-hot pre-cum back and forth across the grass, which sizzled as each thick, heavy rope landed. My awareness of myself – my impossibly strong, mind-blowingly massive musculature, my absolute masculinity, my ripped, thick, hairy, godly, seemingly indestructible body, my immense, vein-wrapped fuck tool and incredibly dense grapefruit-sized balls, all so painfully beautiful – washed over me, leaving me feeling drunk once again with my extraordinary magnificence. My mind spun, filled with an overwhelming euphoria. Each movement of my body brought me closer to another epic orgasm, the pressure in my loins building once again, mounting yet higher, and as I entered the pond and hundreds then thousands of gallons of water flashed into steam, instantly vaporizing. I seized my perfect cock and released my cum, which fired through the water in a continuous super-heated jet until in less than a minute the entire pond had vanished in a tremendous explosion of steam that shook the earth and soared hundreds of feet into the air. Finally, as my cock rested once again, as the air cleared and my limitless cum collected in the bed of pond, as the sound of numerous sirens drifted through the surrounding trees, I knew I had cooled enough to return to the van and the world I was destined to rule. Next Chapter: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6388-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-thirteen/

Twenty-two In the gym Alex recovered from the most intense orgasm he had ever had. He grinned at the sight of the cum drenched dumbbells and mirror. He looked down and saw cum slowly flowing down in the deep canyons of his strong 12-pack. He left the gym, strutted through the deserted locker room and entered the shower zone. He smirked as he noticed the past out, fallen star athlete Logan still lying on the tilled floor. He ignored the now 90 pound quarterback, turned on a shower and washed his beastly body. Soaping his huge, steely muscles made him hard again and within seconds he creamed all over the wall. He turned around and blasted two more loads over Logan, coating his frail body with a thick layer of his sticky cum. He turned off the shower, grabbed Logan’s towel and sensually dried his meaty muscles. He slowly strutted into the locker room. Alex opened his locker and smiled: none of his clothes would fit anymore. He went over to Logan’s locker and grabbed the lock. He clenched his fist, easily breaking the metal lock. He ripped off the door with his 55 inch right arm and pulled out the team captain’s bag. He went through its content and fished out Logan’s football jersey. It had been made to fit over the armor covering the quarterback’s 320 pound frame. Alex ripped off the sleeves as they would never fit over his 55 inch arms. The shirt protested with tearing sounds as he pulled it on. It ripped a few inches under his armpits but stretched to the max as it hugged his bulging muscles. Alex sat down on the bench and noticed a dark ribbon in the bag. He pulled it out and recognized it: Logan wore the ribbon to indicate he was the team captain. Logan always put it around his 25 inch arm to emphasize the size of his then impressive bicep. Alex slid it over his left arm and grinned: the ribbon could only made it halfway on his thick forearm. The elastic fabric creaked as he clenched his fist and the steely cords of muscle bulged on his forearm. In the shower zone Logan slowly regained consciousness. He blinked a few times to focus his vision and quizzically looked around. Tears filled his eyes as reality came crashing down on him: he recalled how the mysteriously beefed up Alex had sucked him off and how his hard earned muscles had melted away. He got up slowly, his weak legs shaking from the effort as the large amount of sticky cum gluing him to the floor, gave in to the pressure. He hit the button of the shower three times at full force before managing to press it hard enough to turn the shower on. “Alex didn’t grow as he sucked me off. This means my buddy Paul is the biggest man on the team. I’ll get him and Mike to help me get back on Alex”, he said to himself as he rinsed the cum from his skinny body. The shower stopped and since he didn’t succeed in turning it on again, Logan left the shower zone. He searched for his towel but didn’t find it and entered the locker room. He gasped loudly as he stared at the massive back of the figure sitting on the bench in front of his locker. He saw how his own big shirt looked like it was painted onto the behemoth: it stretched to the max as it tried to contain the huge muscles that were clearly visible on the impossibly wide back. Alex turned around and looked straight into the fallen star athlete’s eyes: sitting down he was the same height of the standing Logan. “I hope you don’t mind I’ve put on your shirt. Mine doesn’t fit anymore”, he said. Logan’s mouth hung open in disbelief, but no sound came out. Alex’ deep baritone voice send vibrations through his weak body as it echoed against the walls. His eyes wandered over the huge pecs and strong 12-pack abs pushing against the white fabric. “I tore off the sleeves. They were tight around your arms. They would’ve never been able to contain my arms”, Alex added matter-of-factly. Logan gazed at the ripped off sleeves. Some torn off strings lay atop the water boy’s beastly, perfectly round, cannonball-sized delts that stuck out widely at his sides. They led to unbelievably thick, football-sized, vein-covered biceps that hung relaxed next to the behemoth. Alex followed the quarterback’s gaze down and snickered as he saw Logan stare at the ribbon on his forearm. “I always marveled at how this ribbon highlighted your biceps. How big were they, captain?”, Alex asked. “25 inches”, Logan replied, his high-pitched voice drowning in the water boy’s deep baritone. “I only get them half way up my forearms. Means that my forearms are thicker than your biceps were”, Alex said and clenched his fist hard. Logan’s eyes widened as the cords of muscle on the forearm thickened. The elastic fabric of the ribbon split as it could no longer contain the tree-sized forearm. The fallen star athlete’s pathetic dick hardened to its new, 1 inch size at the sight. “Oops. Seems like my forearms are bigger than your pumped biceps were. And my pinky is longer and thicker than your baby dick”, Alex said as he held his pinky next to the quarterback’s hard cock. Logan looked down and tears filled his eyes as he realized that the behemoth was right. His dick was rock hard but was clearly shorter and thinner than the finger next to it. He lowered his head to hide his tears. “Look up at the new star of the team”, Alex said and put his finger under Logan’s chin to make him look up, “go ahead and cry like the weak little boy you now are.” Logan fought against his tears as he was forced to look into the behemoth’s eyes. “It’s time to inform the other members of the bulk squad there’s a new top dog on the team. Get dressed and lead me to Mike and Paul. Matt will be dealt with later. Oh, and from now on your place in the locker room is with the skinny boys on the other side of the table. Got it?”, Alex boomed. Sean and Keith jumped up from the bed as Connor barged into their room. “Why aren’t you back to your normal size?”, Keith asked as he stared up at his younger brother’s huge frame. “Oh, uncle said I first have to get Anton. Now I’m still big enough to carry him over to Tomas’ room. Then everything shall be how it’s meant to be”, Connor replied. “He’s locked away in the basement. The furthest door on the right when you go down the stairs”, Keith said. “Thanks. You guys stay here and in a couple of hours things will be back to normal”, Connor said and left. “Told you my brother was still the same good guy”, Keith said to Sean. “Something’s not right. You don’t think this is a trap set by Tomas to get Anton free?”, Sean asked. “No. I trust my little bro. You saw how my uncle made him repent and freed him from Tomas’ evil influence. Have some faith”, Keith stated. “I sure hope you’re right, buddy. I’ve got a strange feeling. We haven’t heard from Logan anymore. And wasn’t your brother supposed to be tutored by that Alex guy when we ran into him?”, Sean asked. A loud clap of thunder cut off their conversation. “See”, Keith said, “the fight between my uncle and Tomas is underway. I just know everything will turn out fine. Soon we’ll be back to our muscular selves and dominate the wrestle team again.” “Mike lives over there”, Logan said and pointed at the house in front of them. Alex had insisted on visiting Mike first, even though he lived off campus and Paul on. The long walk had only taken them a couple of minutes: after a few hundred yards, Alex had put Logan on his back because he couldn’t keep up with the behemoth’s long legs. Logan had wrapped his bony arms around the muscular bull neck and simply indicated the route. “His mum will probably be home”, Logan said as a huge paw grabbed his baggy shirt and put him down. “I’ll handle it. You go first and ring”, Alex boomed and shoved the 90 pound former quarterback toward the door as he stayed on the sidewalk Within seconds Mike’s mother opened the door. Before Logan could say a word, she said: “Oh, you must be Logan’s little brother. You have the same features as him. He’s just way bigger. What can I do for you?”. Logan fought against his tears and before he could speak, Alex emerged behind him. “Logan’s little, 12 year old brother brought me here, madam”, he said, “I’m the new star quarterback. Logan told me your son is one of our best players so I really wanted to meet him. Logan was feeling drained and he send his little bro to show me your house”. Mike’s mother looked in shock and lust at the heavily muscled athlete in front of her. She sensually licked her lips and her breathing fastened. She blushed as the quarterback blinked at her. “He’s in the uhn… pool. Should I uhn… call uhn… him?”, she blurted out. “Oh no, I don’t want to keep you from your work”, Alex said, “can we go join him?”. “Sure uhn… Just uhn… go around the house and call me uhn… if you need anything. Anything at all”, she lustfully said and stared into Alex’ eyes. Alex grabbed Logan’s bony shoulder and dragged him along to the backyard. “Stay here and don’t make a sound”, he said as he threw Logan onto the grass. He quickly removed his clothes and silently lowered himself in the pool. Mike was floating around on an inflatable crocodile, enjoying the warmth of the sun. The crocodile suddenly flipped over and he landed in the water with a splash. “Must have lost my balance”, he said to himself as he resurfaced in the center of the pool. He looked at the side of the pool and noticed his phone was ringing. He swam toward the edge but around halfway the distance something grabbed his thigh. He yelled in surprise and struggled. The thing released his thigh. He looked around but didn’t see anyone. Suddenly, a large paw grabbed his ankle and dragged him back to the center of the pool. Mike shoved and struggled but his muscular leg could break free. He extended his arms, trying to swim away as his 262 pound, athletic body was dragged to the center of the pool. The paw released his ankle and Mike put his feet on the pool floor. He turned around quickly to see who or what was in there with him. A big shadow fell over Mike as Alex emerged from the water. Water cascaded down from his gigantic muscles, highlighting the deep cuts and lines as he rose up and up, towering over the 5’8 athlete. Mike froze and stared in awe at the muscular beast inches away from him. His football instincts alarmed his brain and ordered him to flee. Before he could back away, two huge paws grabbed his armpits and hoisted him up until he was eyelevel with the strangely familiar giant. His torso was exposed up to his speedo, his legs were still in the water but his feet didn’t reach the floor anymore. He was totally at the mercy of the beast that held him effortlessly. “Came to tell you there’s a new captain on the team”, Alex boomed at the athlete that felt like a feather in his grip. “Alex?”, Mike gasped in disbelief. His brain alarmed him to break free and run for it but his body didn’t react to the commands. He just stared at how the formerly skinny water boy dwarfed him in height and width: Alex’ broad, perfectly round, beastly shoulders were twice as broad than his own thick ones. “How?” “Let’s say that Logan already paid for his faults”, Alex replied and ripped off Mike’s speedo, “Liking what you see?”. Mike shivered as the cold air brushed against his hardening dick. “Let me go, please”, he pleaded as he held his hands in front of his inflating 8 incher. He wiggled and flexed his torso but the strong arms that held him didn’t budge. “You gonna do whatever your new captain says?”, Alex asked and shook him lightly. Mike’s vision danced as his 262 pound body rocked back and forth by the sheer force of the behemoth. His hard cock smacking against his eight-pack. “Yes, I’ll do whatever you say”, he said quickly. “Good. But I want to make sure you know your place”, Alex said. He turned Mike around, slammed his back against his own protruding pecs and rammed his engorged 20 incher into his teammate’s ass. “No!”, Mike cried in pain as inch after inch of the thick, hard cock invaded his ass. “Everything okay, boys?”, Mike’s mother asked as she emerged at the backdoor. Lust exploded down her body as she stared Alex’ exposed muscular torso. “Mum, help. He’s raping me. Call the cops!”, Mike cried in fear as tears flowed over his cheeks. “Everything’s okay, Madam. Just a little horseplay between teammates”, Alex said and bounced his pecs, making striations explode over them. A large wet stain formed on Mike’s mother’s pants and she rushed back into the house. “You didn’t think I was going to stop ‘cause your mother was here? No one can stop me. Let’s have some fun”, Alex said and began swimming around the pool with Mike impaled on his dick. Mike was pushed under water by Alex’ beastly body as he swam lap after lap. Mike took deep breaths every time he could but his vision began going black. Alex turned around and continued swimming on his back, exposing Mike atop his frame. Mike took deep breaths to fill his lungs. His head rested on Alex’ protruding, half melon-sized pecs, his ass aching as the thick, engorged 20 incher jolted inside it, his own 8 incher pointed stubbornly hard at the sky. He grabbed hold of Alex’ sides and pushed to free himself. Alex put his left paw on Mike’s chest, covering it entirely and began shoving him up and down his monster cock. Mike fought with all his might, but the behemoth’s left arm easily overpowered his 262 pound body. His well-trained muscles flexed and a loud moan escaped his mouth as his 8 incher exploded: four loads of cum shot straight upward and splattered down onto his eight-pack. “I lasted longer when I was a runt”, Alex grunted in his ear between fastening breaths. Soon enough his balls churned and began blasting loads of sticky cum through the long shaft of his engorged 20 incher. The pressure build inside Mike as more cum blasted into his intestines. After about five minutes Alex pulled Mike from his still hard cock, shot a final load in Mike’s face and tossed the 262 pound athlete away in the pool. Mike resurfaced and stared at the insanely muscular back as Alex climbed from the pool. He ogled the display of striations and veins as the behemoth toweled his meaty muscles. Alex pulled on Logan’s shirt again and looked down as he heard Mike’s phone ringing. He grabbed it and saw that it was an incoming call from Logan. He crushed the phone in his paw and dropped the remains in the pool. “I own the team from now”, he bellowed at Mike and left. Logan tried recalling Mike in vain. Suddenly, his feet left the ground and he stared into Alex’ angry face. The giant took the phone from his hand and crushed it between his fingers. “Not smart to make me angry, you worm”, Alex boomed in his face, “get me to Paul!” Back at Orchid University Connor forced the lock and slammed open the door indicated by his runt brother. He rushed inside the room and discovered the past out Anton dangling in the center of the room. He ripped off the thick chains and gently put the bruise covered, 580 pound body over his shoulder. He returned to Tomas’ room where he slowly put Anton on the bed. “Will he be okay?”, he asked as looked down on the painfully breathing beast. “He’s heavily injured, but will recover. He’ll just need some time. I’ll use my magic to speed up his recovery but it will still take some weeks. The ritual will have to wait ‘till then”, Tomas said. Tomas fetched an ancient looking book from his desk, opened it and ordered Connor to stand back. He began invoking strange incantations. An infernal heath invaded the room and Anton’s 580 pound body began floating above the bed. “Restitutionem salubris, bestia meae! Revigorationem corpus suis! Ego! Hic! Nunc!” Small dark clouds formed above Anton’s body and little lightning flashes shot into his thick, meaty muscles. Faint grunts left Anton’s mouth with every lighting that struck. Connor stared in awe at the scene, wondering just how powerful Tomas was. As promptly the clouds had appeared, they disappeared. Anton’s body gently landed on the bed. “Now my pet can recover in peace. You helped me bring down those priests and saved my pet”, Tomas said to Connor, “Name your reward. Whatever you will, you’ll get!”. Connor scratched his stubbly beard as he thought and smiled as he got an idea. “I want Kurt”, he said. “Consider it done”, Tomas replied, “Now go train yourself for the ritual. You have 10 days to be ready!”. Connor nodded and left the room. Logan’s knees buckled slightly as his feet hit the ground again. Alex had thrown him on his broad back once more as they had returned to Orchid University. “That’s his room”, he said as he pointed at a door on his left. “Good”, Alex said. He motioned the fallen star athlete to enter and they barged into the room. Paul stood up from his desk and turned around as his door opened. He quizzically looked at the two strangely familiar figures that entered. “Logan? Alex? What the hell happened to you guys?”, he asked as he recognized them. Logan began to speak, but Alex quickly cut him off: “Sit and shut up!”, he bellowed. Paul and Logan instantly sat down on the bed. Paul wrapped his muscular arm around his buddy to protect him. “The new team captain wants to have some fun with his teammates. Strip!”, Alex ordered and began pulling off his own clothes. Paul and Logan got up and did as they were told, removing their pants and shirts. Logan stared down to avoid Paul’s gaze; he wasn’t used to being the smallest guy. “You have a scale and a tape here?”, Alex asked, savoring how he outsized the others. “In the bathroom”, Paul replied. “Get them, boy”, Alex said to Logan, who sprang into the bathroom to fetch them. “Let’s check our weight”, Alex said and put Logan on the scale. “What does it say?”, he asked Paul. “90 pounds”, Paul read from the scale. “That’s even smaller than I was”, Alex said, “seems like you fell from quarterback to flatback. Your turn!”. Logan stepped down and Paul stepped on the scale. “275”, Logan peeped in his high-pitched voice. “That’s a start”, Alex said and shoved Paul from the scale. “What does it say?” “5… 501 pounds”, Logan said in disbelief staring up at the tower of muscle in front of him. He couldn’t even see Alex’ face as the protruding rack of pecs blocked it from his view. “Yeah! A real man now leads the team”, he boomed and kicked the scale aside. “We’ve always admired your arms, ‘Captain Canon’”, Alex said, “Why don’t you let Paul measure them?”. Logan shook his head but knew he couldn’t resist the alpha man. He reluctantly raised his right arm and flexed it, avoiding to look at it. Paul wrapped the tape around the bony arm, whispering “I’m sorry, man”, and tightened it: “5 inches”, he said. “Seems like the canons aren’t loaded anymore”, Alex said laughingly, “Let’s make our new flatback measure your quads, ‘quadster’”. Paul handed the tape to Logan and flexed his thickly muscled quads. He controlled his breathing as he felt his former team captain’s hands on his thighs: he had always secretly lusted after Logan’s beefy body and even now that he had shrunken down, Logan still turned him on. Logan wrapped the tape across the meaty quad, noticing how the cock in Paul’s briefs slowly hardened. “35 inches”, he said admiringly, “man, I’ve always felt intimidated by your legs. Didn’t realize they were this big”. “Sorry to interrupt you ladies, but it’s time for something big now”, Alex boomed and sat down on the bed, “Measure this, flatback!”. Paul and Logan stared as Alex extended his right arm. The size of the vein-covered, meaty forearm seemed to rival Logan’s quads. Logan looked up expectantly at the even juicier bicep. “Not yet”, Alex said with a smirk, “first measure my forearm.” Logan put the tape around the tree-sized forearm. He gasped as Alex clenched his fist, making the steely hard cords of muscles swell and even more veins explode under the paper-thin skin. “37 inches”, he whispered and pulled away the tape. “Bigger than your quads, ‘quadster’”, Alex boomed, “Ready for a real big arm now?”. Logan and Paul gawked in awe as Alex raised his right arm. The thick tricep hung low and was clearly separated from the football-sized bicep. The bicep exploded upward and outward as Alex brought in his forearm: veins exploded all over the pineapple-sized orb of beef that swelled atop the arm. “Measure it, flatback!” Logan slowly and admiringly wrapped the tape around the ball of muscle, groping it in the process. His one inch dick was rock hard as his hands felt the impossibly thick bicep. His eyes widened even more as Alex hardened his flex and the peak swelled some more. “Well, what does it say?”, Alex asked. “Just over 55 inches”, Logan peeped. “Bigger than both your former arms crammed together! Seems like there’s a ‘King Canon’ on the team now, flatback”, Alex boomed. Logan couldn’t believe the size of Alex’ arms. His hand couldn’t even fit around the beastly peak anymore. He put his other hand on the other side of the peak and even then it still wasn’t totally covered. His dick leaked a feeble load as Alex stood up and he hung from the pineapple-sized bicep. Logan’s weak grip faltered and he fell on the ground on his ass, Paul quickly helped him to his feet. Alex looked down on the two athletes and laughed, savoring how he dominated them. He grabbed Logan, effortlessly lifted his undefined 90 pound body, tore off his briefs and tossed him on the bed. “Hey! Leave him alone!”, Paul said loudly. “You gonna make me?”, Alex asked. He turned around and looked down on Paul’s 275 pound frame. Paul gulped and stepped back as the behemoth in front of him slightly flexed his beastly muscles. “I thought so, Alex said and ripped off Paul’s boxers too, “Now you’re gonna fuck our flatback.” “No. I won’t hurt him”, Paul replied instantly and looked at the diminished Logan on the bed. “Wrong answer”, Alex said. He quickly made a fist and slammed it against Paul’s defined, strong abs. The meaty paw busted right through the hard muscles and sank deeply into the 275 pound athlete’s stomach “Augh”, Paul yelled in pain. Alex grabbed hold of his left armpit and effortlessly lifted him off the floor. He ripped off Paul’s boxers and roughly stroked his cock to hardness. Paul’s feet dangled in the air and his muscular frame rocked back and forth as the behemoth pulled on his inflating cock. Within seconds the meaty paw had it to its 7 inches. Logan got up and slid from the bed. “Let him go!”, he peeped in his high-pitched voice and threw his tiny, weak fists against the former water boy’s beastly 12-pack. “Feels like a fly on my frame”, Alex said. He grabbed the diminished quarterback’s torso, covering it entirely with his paw, and tossed him back on the bed on his stomach. He released Paul’s rock hard 7 incher and threw him on his now frail teammate. “Augh”, Logan grunted as the 275 pound Paul fell on his weak 90 pound body. “Let’s have some fun”, Alex boomed. He positioned Paul’s cock against Logan’s ass en rammed it hard into it. “Augh!”, Logan cried out in pain as the engorged 7 incher was slammed into him completely. “I’m sorry, buddy”, Paul whispered in Logan’s ear and slowly pulled back. “Were just beginning”, Alex said. He put his left paw on Paul’s lower back and rammed him back into their skinny teammate. “No! Please”, Logan peeped in agony. Pain exploded through his weakened 90 pound body as Paul’s hard cock kept being slammed into his ass and his 275 pound frame was being pushed against him. Tears flowed from his eyes as his frail body protested against the treatment. “I’m so sorry, man”, Paul whispered every time the behemoth shoved him hard into the bony ass. He positioned his muscular arms at his sides and tried resisting the large paw on his lower back. “Your weak arms are no match for my left arm”, Alex smirked and began pushing even harder. At the same time, his right hand roamed his own thick, protruding pecs and played with his nipples. The bed creaked in protest as Paul’s 275 pound body kept being pushed up and down atop the now crying Logan. Logan grunted in pain as he felt the hard 7 incher twitch inside him. Paul’s hard muscles flexed against his weak back as orgasm raced through him and his cock exploded down the bony ass. “No need to thank me, guys”, Alex said laughingly, “See you boys at practice tomorrow. And don’t be late!”. He released Paul’s back, put on his cloths and abandoned his battered teammates. “I’m so sorry, man. Are you okay?”, Paul asked as he withdrew his deflating cock from Logan’s ass. Logan didn’t react. He peeped a final time as the head of his teammates cock left his worn out ass. He rolled himself into a ball, grabbed his knees and laid on the bed crying in pain and shame. Paul gently patted his hair and wrapped his arm around his fallen team captain. “He’ll never touch you again, I swear”, he said, “We’ll get back on him tomorrow at practice with the entire team.”. Logan sobbed weakly in his big friend’s protective grasp.

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 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4032-packmates-part-4/ Part 5: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4526-packmates-part-5/ "It sounds as though he hasn't grown up at all Fen." grumbled Ragnar as he finished reading the letter. He then passed it to him and stood up and began barking orders, "Pack up all your stuff, we're leaving for Wolf house tonight. Unchain Bane and tell him to use his mind-link to contact all our foreign Pack leaders, Miranda you'll help him. Alphas make sure we're ready to leave in an hour, get every weapon, valuable, scrap of food and clothing we have. Now go!" Everybody immediately began busying about with Ragnar's orders. Most of us hadn't unpacked at all so our stuff was already in the car, so we were all packing away Ragnar and Layton's things into boxes we had found in the attic. When Layton arrived downstairs he began to teleport the boxes to Ragnar's storage facility - which he had bought for the use of this spell - so that they could then be accessed when things calmed down a little. We were completely ready to leave exactly an hour later. Ragnar then began to separate all fourty-five of us into cars and groups. We were to travel as a group, but every car needed at least two defenders, one brawler, one disabler and in cars with a lot of people in, a healer. Word amongst the group was that our entire French chapter had been destroyed and the only survivor was in a coma in hospital... Needless to say nobody wanted to share a car with Ragnar or Fenrir in their current mood. We set off for Wolf house as quickly as possible, it would take about two and a half hours to get there, but for the other werewolves Ragnar had ordered there it would take longer - as some were from America and Canada. Ragnar was taking no chances. Layton I had never seen Ragnar so tense, his eyes were darting about all over the road as we sped along the motorway. He had every car on a closed radio system and was constantly asking them for updates, I knew he was upset about losing the French chapter of our Pack but I was afraid we'd be arrested with the way he was driving. In our car we had: Ragnar, Myself, Fenrir, Ollie and Danny. Fenrir had taken up almost all the room in the back so Danny was sat on his lap whilst Ollie sat in the small space by the door, Fenrir's large arm over the back of him and his humongous thigh pressing against him. Rag was in the boot, his tail wagging happily as he knew where we were going. As we pulled up to the gates of the estate a small portly man stepped out of the guard hut and waved at us. Ragnar rolled down the window and greeted the man, before handing him a list with our number plates on it. The ride from the gate to the garage was about twenty minutes by car, through a dense ring of forest and then across a lush green expanse. A large modernised gothic mansion loomed up in front of us. It was bare brick but there were a lot of windows surrounding the enormous house. It could hold around one hundred and fifty people in it and it roomy enough to allow the Pack members to walk around in their natural size - apart from Ragnar and Fenrir. "Wow..." Was all I could say as we pulled up in the small pantheon that acted as rain cover for the entrance. "This is amazing" complimented Ollie as we all got out. Rag was barking madly and as soon as we had opened the boot he darted off inside and eventually came back with a pale, skinny, old man in tow. "Everyone this is Jace" introduced Ragnar as he hugged the man. "Hello again, Ragnar. I kept the house the way you asked, I'm happy to see you again" said the man formally. It was his nature to always be polite and obedient as he used to be a vampire's thrall. "I'm happy to see you too Jace, could you help us organise the unloading the stuff?" asked Ragnar as more cars began to arrive. "Of course, right away" replied Jace as Ragnar moved inside of the house. The lobby was very wide, with an ornately carved double staircase that wrapped around a reflecting pool with a large crystal statue in the middle. A woman carved completely out of a dazzling blue crystal. Above hung a chandelier made of the same thing. Ragnar knelt in front of the pool and put his hand on the largest stone in the centre of the pool's rim. Immediately the crystal began to glow and runes appeared all over the stone and on certain slabs of the floor - which was natural stone. Though the more recently developed areas of the house were more modern. However despite a larger majority of the house being stone it was never cold as it had underfloor heating, which had been put in during the roman invasion of England - Ragnar had had the house cloaked from view for many centuries as it served as a safe haven for all manner of supernatural people and creatures. "What's with the fancy light show?" I questioned as I walked over to him and looked up at the statue. "The shield of sacrifice... Runa's spirit powers it" said Ragnar as he smiled nostalgically. "Your wife?" I asked awkwardly. We had never spent too much time on the topic as Ragnar didn't like thinking about his past too often. "Well technically she's my fiancé, but yes. Her human spirit protects this place whilst her wolf spirit runs free in Hircine's realm" he replied as he brushed his cheek and turned to me. "Come with me, I want to show you something" So I did. He lead me down long corridors, each looked like it had been made in a completely different era of time as I walked past a brazier and then a gas lamp. Eventually we entered into a stone courtyard, in the centre bloomed an enormous rose, a haze of pollen emanated from it's petals and as the sunlight hit it it seemed to glow slightly. "This courtyard was a gift from my old friend, it's teeming with magic so it's easy to practice your spells here" Ragnar explained before pointing to an ornate golden chest within the roots of the giant rose "and in there is every spell tome you'll ever need, once you've mastered them. Miranda can train you" I hugged him tightly, knowing that he had put a lot of thought into this gift and allowed me into a private place "Thankyou so much" I said happily as a flock of crows landed in one of the trees that skirted the courtyard. "You're welcome, cub. Only you, me, Fenrir and Miranda can access this place. We call it the Grove" he explained as we began to walk around it. "It's not just great for training though" he said mysteriously as he took off his shirt and took a deep breath in. "It's great for helping werewolves to grow" his chest expanded even more and stayed that way. I began to get a little aroused as he began to move closer to me. "It might even help you become one" I rested against him and stroked his chest "Without almost killing me?" I asked, trying not to sound hopeful. "Well... It'd speed up the healing process and make the it a whole lot easier but. It's still dangerous" he replied as he ran his hands down my sides and onto my ass. "But I'm hopeful" "Then so am I" I replied positively. I wanted to become a werewolf so badly, not just for me but for Ragnar. I knew he yearned to share the gift with me, to have me in his Pack. "Good, now how about I show you to our bedroom?" he murmured into my ear before playfully biting on it. "Okay, but we should probably check to make sure those guys aren't ripping each other apart. They were all forced together for three hours" I replied, smiling as he nuzzled against my shoulder. "C'mon" "Hmmph, alright but if I have to miss this chance with you then you owe me big time" he warned, before letting go of me. The rest of the guys were all in the lobby sitting on some of the benches that had been scattered around or lying down with each other. "Alright! Here are your rules: Keep all transformations outside or in the cellar, no running inside the house... Oh and if you touch this statue I will kill you" said Ragnar, ending on a very serious note. "And I won't try to stop him" added Fenrir as he walked over to Ragnar "The statue is the big guy's wife, so you might wanna just steer clear of her in general. Okay?" Fenrir patted Ragnar before walking towards the stairs. "Yes. Now rooms. My quarters are on the top floor, Fenrir, Snow and Logan's second floor, Scott's are in the North wing, Bear your lot will be in the west wing when they arrive, Welshies you're in the East, the two south wings are reserved for the Werelions and the Americans." Ragnar announced. "Dinner is gonna be at six tonight, if I catch you taking food without permission you'll miss it. We only get food deliveries once a week here so we have to be sensible. Okay? Now go on, scatter" "Do we have everything sorted?" I asked, turning to him and smiling. "The others are working to finish it off, we're just waiting on the response from the other Pack's so we know when to pick them up." Ragnar replied as he put his arm over me. "Only one thing I need to sort out then.... Uni" I replied, looking up at him. "Crap... I totally forgot" he sighed as we sat down on the stairs. "Can't really let you out by yourself... I suppose you and Bear or Fenrir could go" "Anyone smaller?" I asked as I thought about trying to get them into the lecture theatre. "Hmmm, you only have to go to lectures, the rest of it can be e-mailed?" asked Ragnar as he put his hands together. "Library too, but yeah" I replied as I looked up at the ceiling. "When he gets here I'll send Logan with you, he's only five eight" replied Ragnar "but he's my aggressive Beta, the aggressive Beta out of everyone. Perfect for you" "Great, can I set up a teleport anywhere?" "The Grove should work" he said happily before he slid his hand up my leg and crept closer. "And now that's sorted..." I stroked his grizzly face as he leant in and began to kiss me, before his body began to press against mine. As he lifted me up I pulled off one of his chains and dropped it to the floor causing it to become visible. "What're you up to cub?" he questioned as his trouser buttons popped open and his entire body began to swell. The growth was most noticeable in his chest as it pressed against of me, I could feel every thick fibre of tensed muscle as his pecs rolled up me. "I thought you deserved to relax a little after all that's happened I replied as I began to kiss his chest, causing him to groan in pleasure as his trousers ripped off. I teleported us to our bedroom and we landed heavily on the bed. Ragnar sat up, his now humongous frame taking up most of my vision as his underwear burst open and his python of a penis popped out and snaked up his chest. "I hope you're ready then cub" he growled playfully as he massaged his humongous, throbbing cock as it began to dribble precum. I quickly removed my clothes, finishing just before Ragnar had grown to the ceiling. As he pressed his cock against me I felt it throb as it went lower. I felt his thick fingers circle my eager hole as he buried his head in my neck and began to kiss and nibble on me. I began to rub his mountainous chest, causing his heavy pecs to squeeze together. I then began to rub his large hard nipples as he forced two fingers into me. I'd never had sex with him with one of his chains off so I hadn't expected his fingers to be that big. They stretched me just as much as his dick used to. "Wow, I never realised how tight you were cub, this might be a bit of a squeeze I mean... I don't want to break ya" "I'll be fine, don't worry" I panted in response as the third finger wriggled inside me. I groaned in pleasure as they got close to my prostate and I began to lick his chest, he was no longer at my neck as he looked down at me. His fourth finger never came as he pulled them out and then began to stroke his dick "I'm a bit too much for you to handle right now so how about you help me with this?" he suggested as he indicated to his dick. I stood on the bed and he grinned as I began to worship his chest, my entire hand could slip between his pecs, hell! Even my forearm would get lost in there. His furry abs jutted out towards me by at least two inches but his pecs eclipsed them entirely. I started to suck his nipples and he grunted in pleasure as he began to beat off his monstrous dick. I worshipped his entire torso and them began to kiss him once more and grab at his nipples. As he began to reach his climax he carried me into the bathroom, breaking the doorway as he did so. His dick swelled until his head was as large as my actual head as his pendulous balls churned and his nipples hardened as I began to suckle them once more. In a roar of pure ecstasy he released his orgasm, covering the walls of the room in his seed as I tasted a sweet liquid come from his nipples too. I don't know how long he was cumming for but it certainly broke any world records. When he finished he let me down to the floor and grinned happily as he looked down at my stunned face, sweat was glistening on his body as he flexed and grew a bit more. "Heh you're pretty awesome cub, shame I couldn't really let loose though, this" he indicated to the spunk covered walls "isn't even the beginning" "You're a fucking beast" I complimented as the last dregs of cum began to roll down his dick "I can't let you leave like this though, how about I clean you up?" I began to lick the cum off his dick as he grinned and then lifted me up away from it. "Keep doing that and you might drown in it" he teased as he kissed me and then held me close to him. "Don't worry about the mess, I'll sort it out later" He carried me out of the bathroom and over to the bed where we lay down together, I could feel his heart pumping in his chest and slowly he began to transform as I nuzzled against him suddenly incredibly tired. I closed my eyes and instantly drifted off to sleep. "Wow. Ragnar's pretty loud when he gets going, huh?" Buck noted as he looked around the room. Tank and Buck were sat with Fenrir, Miranda, Bear, Asad, Angus and Ollie. "Heh, just wait till you see him really let loose" said Fenrir as he chuckled and poured himself a drink from the small table they were sat around. They were all in a large living room with high backed armchairs, a plush sofa and a roaring stone fire place with a stag's head above it. There was also a large TV that stuck out a little but it could be hidden by a moving book case - which was pretty awesome. "And you would know about that why?" teased Miranda as she nudged him in the side. "I hear stories" replied Fenrir as he put his arm around Miranda and kissed her. "Probably told half of them." she replied as she rested against him. "I hear Ragnar's as big as a house you know" stated Asad as he scanned the room with his gleaming eyes. "I heard his dick's as big as a house" added Angus as he grinned and slowly put his arm over Ollie. "You wish" teased Bear as he smiled at him from the otherside of Ollie. "It'd be one hell of a night I'll give you that" Angus replied as he looked up and down Bear. Bear went a little red as Angus gave him a nod of approval but before they could speak everyone turned their heads to the front of the house as they picked up the sound of a vehicle approaching the house. "A motorbike?" questioned Asad as he stood and then darted away, barely making a sound. The rest of them soon followed him outside. They found a rather small (in comparison to them) man on an oversized motorbike hop off. The group only noticed his height at first but when he got off and he went to take his helmet off they were treated to seeing the man's ginormous biceps flare up. They looked like they belonged on Ragnar rather than him and his chest was just as impressive. His legs were incredible too as they bulged out to obscene proportions. As the helmet was lifted off the group saw a mane of dark ginger hair and an incredibly attractive face. "S'Ragnar here?" he asked as he walked towards them with a confident stride. Fenrir sniffed the air and grinned, "He's a little preoccupied right now pipsqueak" he teased. The man stopped and turned to him before reaching up and grabbing Fenrir's shirt and pulling him down to his level as quick as a flash. "You wanna try that again, you lanky bastard?" he growled in a heavy Canadian accent - which seemed funny when he swore. Fenrir pulled away, impressed by the man's prowess. "He's up in his room" replied Fenrir as he put out his hand "Fenrir" The man took it and the two of them shook strongly "Logan" he replied as he caught the eye of all the other men "Anyone else wanna crack a joke? I feel like a brawl after that journey" "Ah! Master Logan" cried Jace from the doorway as he came outside. He walked straight over to him. "Come this way, I have direct orders to take you straight to Ragnar" Logan didn't put up a fight as he was dragged away, merely rolled his eyes and let Jace do his thing "Alright Jacey, lets go" he said as he was pulled inside. When they reached Ragnar's room all they heard was "Come in" before they could even knock. They stepped inside and found Ragnar laying in bed with Layton asleep beside him. He smiled happily at the two of them and got up to hug them both. "I'm glad you made it here okay" said Ragnar, sounding relieved as he let go. "Nice to be here. Who's the little guy?" he asked before Ragnar chuckled and sat down. Jace left the room as he had been preparing dinner and needed to get back. "The one I told you about, your new Alpha" he replied as they both watched Layton. "Well he's cute, I'll give ya that but he doesn't look like an Alpha... He's not even a werewolf yet" "He's immune" stated Ragnar as he looked Logan in the eyes "I think he might be the Nephilim we've been looking for" "For Hircine?" he inquired, looking down at Layton. "Perhaps Sanguine too" said Ragnar happily "I just hope he can handle it" "I'm sure he'll be fine" comforted Logan as he watched Ragnar stroke Layton's hair. "Yeah, he's strong... In mind more than body, obviously" replied Ragnar as he scanned Layton. "Does he know he's Nephilim?" "I think he's sussed out that he's different, but no" replied Ragnar as Layton began to wake up. Layton instinctively began to nuzzle Ragnar and then he realised Logan was sat beside him. He immediately sat up and blushed before saying "Hey, you must be..." Layton looked him up and down "Logan?" "Bingo" Logan replied as he nodded at him. "You're the infamous Layton, right?" "Yeah, that's me" Layton replied laughing a little as he slowly covered himself up. "Sorry I have that effect on people, being the aggressive beta and all" excused Logan as he pulled the blanket down and kissed Layton on the cheek, stunning him a little. "See, I don't bite" "You know I'm starting to think leaving you alone with Logan is a bad idea" said Ragnar as he turned to Layton and put his arm around him. "Huh? What do you mean left alone with me?" questioned Logan. "Layton needs a bodyguard for when he travels to Uni, you're the only small Pack member we have who's also strong enough to protect him" replied Ragnar as he kissed Layton on the forehead. "Can I count on you?" "Yeah, of course... Wait how old does that make you?" asked Logan, as he looked down to Layton. "Errr. Twenty" he replied, feeling a little judged. "I started Uni later because I went travelling and I didn't know what to do, still don't really" "Ah, cool what are you studying?" asked Logan curiously as Ragnar stood up. "I have business to attend to, I'll leave you two to chat." he said as he moved towards his wardrobe. "Oh and he's off limits for awhile" teased Ragnar as he looked back at Layton who turned bright red. "We don't want to break him after all" A few minutes later Ragnar was back at his normal size and wearing a pair of large jogging bottoms and a tight black T-shirt. "Ragnar! The Americans are landing soon we better go" said Fenrir as he jogged down the hall. "You're gonna have to go alone Fen, the girls need me to go get them. Athene said they're being followed I need to go" he said as Fenrir turned around and followed him. "You using the portal, or can I?" asked Fenrir as they darted down the stairs to the lobby. "Go ahead, I'm taking the Rover" he replied as he patted Fenrir on the shoulder "Take Miranda with you and be safe" He then went into the small side room where the coats, keys and insurance documents were kept. Once he had his keys he charged into the garage and hopped into the car, driving off whilst the automatic door lifted. A few hours later Jace rung the bell for dinner and the Pack all converged in the large dining room. Most individual Packs stayed together but some people, like Ollie and Chris had mixed with other Packs. "I'm afraid Ragnar won't be joining us so as the aggressive Beta and Ragnar's Alpha mate, Layton and I will be having first pick of the food" announced Logan as he and Layton entered the room. Logan was wearing a red flannel shirt that was rolled up around his gigantic biceps and threatened to burst when he moved his arms and a pair of blue jeans and surprisingly large brown boots. Bane rolled his eyes and made a disapproving grunt as Layton sat down and just as he glared over at Layton a steak knife slammed into the back of his chair next to his head "Do you have a problem, Bane? Please, say you do" growled Logan as he grinned at him and picked up another knife "Ragnar may be a bit more lenient with you but I won't hesitate to hurt you again. Next time I'll shave that crappy beard off your face" snarled Logan, causing Bane to gulp and shake his head. "Good boy, now how about you apologise to Layton?" "Sorry, Layton" he said slowly as he bowed his head. When he looked up Logan was next to him grinning. "I've heard Bane isn't the only one who isn't to happy with Layton's appointment... I'd love to see you say that once he's been Bitten" said Logan mysteriously as he got closer to Bane. He then put his large arm around his neck and grabbed onto the knife then flexed against his ear and smiled as he saw him shake. He pulled the knife out of the wood and then brushed his thick beard against Bane's cheek and whispered, "Just remember who's in charge here. Boy"as he put his hand on Bane's thigh, causing him to lose control and cum. Needless to say the meal started off rather slowly after that but once everyone relaxed again the room was still filled with a happy clamour. Though, the empty section of the table where the French quarter had once sat still hung over them like a dark cloud. Luckily Ragnar had found the girls without trouble. They had broken down at the side of the road and were rather wet. "Don't worry girls, your carriage awaits you" chirped Ragnar as he unlocked the doors for them. All ten clambered inside with their leader, Athene, hopping up next to Ragnar "They almost found us, go quickly!" she urged as he put his foot down. "Don't worry they won't catch up to us" said Ragnar confidently as the girls grabbed their seat belts, afraid of Ragnar's violent driving. "So how come I haven't seen you all in... What is it now, two years?" questioned Ragnar as they got into the motorway. "We were renovating the place and didn't want your lot wrecking all our doorways and ceilings. Lanky bastards" grumbled Athene as she scraped her fingers through her hair. "Anyway, last I heard you have a new little Alpha friend. Giving away my position so soon?" "You never were my Alpha Athene, you just like to think that" teased Ragnar as he turned on the radio "and he's certainly a lot nicer than you" replied Ragnar as he grinned at her. "How're the rest of you doing?" He was met with a mixture of: cold, tired, wet, hungry and cramped. When they returned the rain was pouring heavier than ever, Ragnar pulled up inside the garage and the girls quickly ran inside whilst Ragnar locked up. "Ah! Ladies I was told of your arrival, there's food in the kitchen for you and your beds have been made up in the North wing along with the Scotts" said Jace happily as he greeted them and lead them to the dining room where Logan, Angus and Layton were all still sitting chatting. "Hey girls!" called Angus as he waved them over and pulled up a chair, indicating for them to sit with them. They all obliged and sat down, Lily ended up next to Angus, she was the smallest there standing at only 5ft 3" and therefore looked rather silly next to Angus. Seeing that they were all cold Layton blasted the fireplace behind them with a cone of flames and it roared into life "Eat up then" he encouraged as Jenny, their Pack's omega tried to cuddle against Logan, mainly because she was cold. He didn't really respond apart from putting his hand on her shoulder as he and Layton were still talking. When Ragnar entered the room and sat down with them conversation stopped. "How'd it go then, no mishaps I hope?" asked Logan as Jace served Ragnar. "Nah, at least not on my end. They were followed for awhile though" replied Ragnar before digging into his food. "Well, good news is Layton isn't as immune as we thought. Look" Logan grabbed Layton's arm and showed it to Ragnar "Look, he isn't as scrawny as before. So from what I've heard your little boost seemed to help." explained Logan as Layton wrestled his arm free and rubbed it. Ragnar thumped Logan on the arm and growled, "He's still not a werewolf, he's fragile. You'll hurt him" Logan rubbed his own arm and looked at Layton "Sorry, I got carried away" he apologised as Layton stopped rubbing his arm and nodded. "I'm still kinda tired, I'm gonna go to bed" he announced as he stood up and kissed Ragnar on the cheek "see you in the morning" Ragnar put his arm around his waist and pulled him closer and kissed him but Layton wasn't so into it. "Sorry, I'm just not feeling too great. Think I've got a fever" he replied. "Jace, could you look him over and help him to bed for me?" asked Ragnar. "I'll be up later, I need to be ready if Fenrir needs help" "Alright, goodnight then" replied Layton as Jace walked over and lead him away. "You see that's the problem with humans, always getting sick" stated Angus. "More a problem with weaklings, he doesn't look like the healthiest of humans" replied Athene as she took a drink. Ragnar growled at her and locked eyes with her "I don't expect to have to discipline you Athene, but if you doubt your Alpha once more I will" She closed her mouth and nodded before turning back to her food. Ragnar finished his quickly and left the dining room with Logan to go and check on everyone. Buck Tank and I had decided to check up on Craig as we hadn't seen him since Bear had started teaching him how to use our boost. We found him chatting with one of Angus' Pack members - Dale I think his name was. Craig looked totally different though, he was about half a foot taller and had a thick Blonde-ish brown beard. He was only slightly more muscular however, but he had a tighter bubble butt now. "Hey guys! Like the new me?" he questioned as he grinned at us and put his arm around Dale. "Yeah you look great, lets hope you can keep it up" I replied as Dale smiled at the two of us. "What do you mean?" asked Craig as Tank grinned back hungrily at Dale who was the smallest among us. "Well you need to work out to keep the height and muscle. No such thing as a free lunch and what not" I replied as I saw Tank lick his lips. "Here why don't we get you really filled up, bring your friend too" I flirted as I turned and walked out of the room. I'd heard that there was a bit of a competition between Craig and another wolf called Danny, so I had something planned for the two of them. I found him sitting with Ollie in the small conservatory by the pool, they were chatting and watching something on the little TV as they rested on the couch. "Hey, I hear Craig's beefing up Danny. Wouldn't want him beating you would you?" I teased. "I hear you've been boosting him, Buck" he replied as Ollie looked up at me. "Perhaps... Wanna try it out?" I tempted as he kissed Ollie. "No need to" he replied as he reached under his shirt and pulled out a chain with a strange looking pendant on it. "Layton made me this, I'm not as weak as I look you know" as he stood up and locked eyes with me. "But you're right, I don't want Craig beating me. So you're going to help me stay ahead, without the boost" "How can I?" I questioned looking at him curiously. "This" he tugged on the chain "gives me all the protein I need, so long as Layton refills it. So I'm gonna gain muscle the good old fashion way. I want you to help" "Why?" I asked, rolling my eyes but getting a little nervous as he approached me. "Because I'm asking you nicely" he replied as he got close to my ear. I gulped and he grinned before throwing his arm around me and pulling me over to the couch. "Come on, I'm not letting you boost that jackass back up. You can stay with us" I wasn't going to defy him, he was more dominant than I realised... and pretty attractive. An hour later Tank and Craig came into the room searching for me. Craig was even bigger than before, his muscles had exploded in growth. He was at least 6ft 5", his chest about 62" and his arms a solid 40". His abs were slightly rounded due to what must have been Tank's entire load fully inside of him. "Is it just me or did you get fatter Craig?" jested Danny as we looked up. Craig just growled and barged over to him "You wanna say that again, pretty boy?" he threatened, trying to intimidate Danny who looked as calm as could be. He even laughed a little. Danny just rubbed Craig's muscle gut and grinned "I'm impressed Tank, that's a fair bit of cum you managed to pump into our little friend here" he teased. "Ha! Look who's talking, you runt" snarled Craig as Ollie cowered away, catching his eye. "Hmmph, I guess it makes sense that a weakling like you would hang around with Ollie" SMACK. Danny hit Craig around the face and snarled, "Don't you dare say a word against him" before taking a deep breath and getting up. Craig had been knocked to the floor by the hit and Tank and I were stunned. Danny then grabbed Craig and immobilised him in a headlock. He then pulled him over to Ollie and tightened his grip "Apologise" he ordered. Craig struggled and tried to free himself but soon realised Danny was far stronger than he had ever let on. "Sorry" he mumbled before Danny squeezed again "Sorry!" he said properly before Ollie put a hand on Danny's arm, making him let go before he turned to Craig. "This isn't you Craig, I think you should go get some rest" he said parentally. Craig nodded and left the room, barging through the doorway and back along the corridor whilst Tank and Danny squared up to one another. Despite his advantage in size Danny didn't seem to be fazed by Tank - in fact he was calm. "You're the one boosting Craig eh?" asked Danny as he looked Tank up and down. Tank growled and moved towards him "You got a problem little man?" he snarled. Danny just cracked a smile and rubbed Tanks's muscle gut "Not at all big guy, why don't you come sit with us?" Tank wasn't expecting the response and he loved his stomach to be rubbed but no-one expected him to be charmed by Danny. "Alright" was all he said in response as Danny's hand reached around him and lead him over to the couch. "Looks like tonight's gonna be fun" he said as he nuzzled Tank and began to rub his stomach. Half an hour Ragnar came in to check up on us. "I see you've met my little prodigy then" said Ragnar as he walked over to us and took Ollie's seat - and then let him sit back down on his lap - "More than meets the eye aren'tcha Danny" he put his arm over him and grinned. "He certainly knows how to treat a guy" said Tank happily as Danny stroked his belly once again. "Heh, more like get what he wants" replied Ragnar as he winked at Danny. "I have no idea what you mean" Danny replied innocently, yet he couldn't stop himself from grinning when he felt Tank nuzzle him - showing that he felt that Danny was now more dominant. "Well whatever you're planning I'd suggest you take it up to the bedroom. Unless you want Jace banging on your doors at four in the morning to clean up your mess." said Ragnar as he wrapped his arms around Ollie "Oh and play nice." He then stood back up and left the room, his alpha scent had caused us all to become rather aroused and a little submissive which Danny instantly took advantage of. "Alright, get up to my room" he ordered. We instantly got up and he grabbed Tank's ass and got up himself "I hope you're ready to take it, you look pretty tight" Tank whimpered and darted off. I stood their stunned, only Bear had that power. Our Beta barely made him flinch. Danny just grinned at me and pointed to the door. I followed suit with Tank and ran. When Danny finally came in we were all sitting obediently. He walked over to us and grinned before saying, "Take off your clothes and throw them over there" he pointed to laundry basket. As we did so he smiled at us all "Now take off mine" he ordered. Ollie immediately started taking off his shirt and Tank pulled down his trousers. I had the job of getting his boxers off. As I did so he stopped me "Use your teeth" I but onto the fabric and ripped them off, allowing his impressive manhood to fall onto the face. I nuzzled his crotch and looked for permission as Tank moved around him and began to feel his ass, Ollie was on his chest. "Lick" he ordered us all. We obeyed. As Danny began to get aroused he tugged on his chain and grinned at me before lifting it off. His chest began to expand first as fresh layer of hair covered his bulging pecs. His abs hardened and jutted out more before his arms swelled up to the size of Ollie's head. He only grew about half a foot but his feet swelled to a solid size fifteen. I felt his cock push further into my mouth and his now massive balls rub against my chin. Tank was pushed away from his spot by Danny's perfect rounded ass but after he was snarled at for stopping he soon carried on. He then began to kiss Ollie before fondling his - rather average in comparison - dick. Ollie squirmed a little but seemed to enjoy himself as Danny rubbed it rhythmically. "Tank, time for you to swap places. Get down in front of me and don't cum till I say so. Big boy" To my surprise Tank willingly obeyed. I'd only ever seen Bear make him get down like that, Danny was certainly special. I moved away and watched as Tank accepted Danny's throbbing cock, he groaned in ecstasy but tried to contain it. Danny began to thrust into him, slowly at first but gradually getting faster - only wavering when Tank seemed uncomfortable which I respected. Soon Ollie and I were making out and grinding each other before we were in the same position as the other too. Ollie was of course bottoming. After an hour and a half Danny still hadn't allowed Tank to release himself and it looked like he big guy was struggling - as he never bottomed he found it harder to control. Ollie and I had finished and were nor bathing in the afterglow as he nuzzled against my chest. Twenty minutes later Danny called me over and instructed Tank to release his orgasm into my mouth. I happily obliged and swallowed what was possibly the biggest load I'd ever gotten from Tank. Danny then went over to the bathroom and began to wash himself down. "I'll see you two in the morning, I think it's time Ollie and I went to sleep" he ordered as he swaggered out of the bathroom looking pumped from his session with Tank. We both kissed him goodbye and he smiled warmly as we left. I then guided Tank back to our room as he was rather giddy. We walked past the main foyer and saw Ragnar knelt by crystal, he was staring into the water and occasionally speaking. I knew he noticed us and was glad we hadn't walked into a private call as he probably would've been annoyed. When we got to our room we found Bear waiting for us. We all crawled into the bed and fell asleep together as we did at home with the rest of the Pack members. We slept together mainly for warmth but also because it provided a sense of protection - it was nice. Layton When I woke in the morning I found Logan spooning against me and Ragnar's unmistakeable presence above us, covering the two of us with ease. I still felt a little groggy so I didn't try to wake up, I also knew that Ragnar had been awake till the early hours of the morning sorting out the American Packs so I wasn't keen on waking him either. Unfortunately the dogs didn't share my consideration of Ragnar's current situation and took to barking and howling as they were given their breakfast. Ragnar let out a slow and very deep growl that resonated through the house and the dogs immediately stopped. "Morning cub," he grumbled as he nuzzled my chest and then kissed my forehead "you feelin' better?" "Uurgh, not really but I'm better than I was yesterday" I replied honestly as I felt Logan wrap his arms around me and nuzzle my neck. "Deep sleeper isn't he" I noted. "Yeah, could sleep through a bloody earthquake" grumbled Ragnar as he rolled his eyes at him and got off us. "I'm going down to the showers, you coming?" asked Ragnar. I was a little confused as to why he wouldn't just use his own but then I looked down at his gradually rising dick and realised he was refraining from initiating morning sex with the two of us due to our current condition - which I thought was pretty sweet. "Nah, I think I'll shower on my own." I replied as I sat up "you go have some fun" I then continued, smiling and nodded at his crotch. He broke into a small smile before going over to his chest of drawers to grab some towels "I'll see you at breakfast then, make sure he wakes up" he instructed as he indicated to the tuft of ginger hair poking out of the sheets. "Will do" I said happily as I waved him goodbye and then lay back down. When Logan and I finally got down to breakfast I noticed the hall was considerably more packed than before. As we entered an entire table of men looked over at us, they seemed curious and a little judgemental. "Ah, our Alpha finally awakes!" called one of the bigger ones with an accent straight out of an American sitcom "Ahh, Layton" said Ragnar as he stood and took me over to their table. "Meet our American Pack mates" They all politely said hello and the man who had shouted to me turned out to be their aggressive Beta, Scott. Their Alpha was an enormous man, he had a strong brow and thick dirty brown hair that covered most of his body. His stomach was a fully loaded musclegut that looked harder than titanium. But what interested me most about them all was that a lot of them were wearing chains with padlocks, they weren't one's for hiding growth and I was curious to find out what they were for. But before I could ask I was pulled onto someone's lap, their arms clamping around me as they nuzzled my neck. "You're just so cute and tiny" he said as I turned to look at him. He was blonde and judging from the way I had to angle my head to look at him, rather tall. His arms were big but not anything amazing and despite having rock-hard abs he wasn't uncomfortable to lay against. "Ahhh yes, Layton this is the American Omega, Brad" said Ragnar as he put his hand on Brad's shoulder. Instantly making him let go of me "he's very friendly" Brad just smiled and grinned at Ragnar, "I just wanted to say hey" he replied. "Hey" I replied ask stood up and smiled at him. That 's when I realised that he was bigger than I'd first thought. Deciding that it'd be rude to vocalise my surprise I instead turned to the Alpha and asked, "What's with the collars?" "They symbolise that they are all in my Pack. In my family. They've pledged themselves to me" he replied before sticking out his hand "I'm Al, big Al. But these guys usually call me Alpha" "Nice to meet you Alpha" I replied, deciding that I preferred it as a name. I shook his hand, his grip was firm but not strong enough to hurt me. "You too, I look forward to seeing how well you do in training" he replied, grinning slightly as Ragnar lead me away to our table. "What did he mean by training?" I questioned, he simply smiled and tapped his glass once. A wave of resonating sound swept across the hall and silenced everyone. "Now that all our Pack's are together I'd like to explain our situation a little more. We have amassed here in order to stand against a dangerous Pack of mutated mutts. They are like us, only they have no control over their minds or their lycanthropy. We are going to stop them, cure them if possible and if not... Kill them" Some people seemed a little shocked, others looked to the floor but a lot of the men and all of Athene's Pack were not fazed at all. "To make sure we limit casualties you will all be training whilst you are here in: Fitness, hand-to-hand combat, sword fighting, sorcery for those who can and in control of your wolf forms. This will all take place during the day and it will start tomorrow, you'll be split into groups and trained on different things more depending on your skills. Any of you who do not wish to fight will still go through the training so that I know you can defend yourself. That is all, now lets eat" Most of the hall dug in immediately but some people - such as Ollie - seemed rather nervous. "And you, Layton, will be joining them." said Ragnar before eating "we need to build up your strength" I didn't argue just nodded and began to eat. I hadn't minded just learning magic but having that alongside everything else Ragnar had mentioned and a Uni course was a little too much to handle. Sensing my apprehension Ragnar put his arm around me and kissed me on my forehead. "It'll be alright once you're an Alpha the workload won't be hard at all" After breakfast we were split into our groups. Which started off as one member from each Pack in each, the girls ran out quickly but at the end there were still a few Americans and the Alphas. "Alright, now I'd like you all to remove your chains and get changed into some clothing that'll fit your size. If you didn't bring any speak with Jace "Don't do it in here though, it's crowded enough already" About seventy percent of our Pack left the room to change. The rest of us walked out of the hall, following Ragnar out to the front of the house. When the others returned I was shocked. A lot of them were above nine feet and had the body of gods. They were all wearing specially made gym clothing, though some wore normal casual T-shirts and shorts as though they walked around town as a giant. "Good, now if you could all follow me. We're going for a run, fall behind too far and... Well lets just say you don't want to fall behind" the order Originated from Logan. All of the new giants turned to face him and grinned down at him. "Huh sure pipsqueak-" Logan growled and pulled off his shirt before grabbing onto his own chain and tearing it off. His body flooded with dark ginger hair and his chest expanded as his already impressive body swelled up, eventually he began to get taller too, growling more and transforming into a wolf. He still had the same ginger fur and he was taller than everyone present now. "Say that again, make my fucking day" he snarled as he grabbed the giant who was back chatting him. He remained silent, too scared to make a sound. "Now now Logan" said Ragnar calmly "no need to show off." Ragnar turned to his Pack and grinned. "If you fall behind you get to deal with me. Now go" We all ran off as Ragnar waved us away. He then walked back up to the house and slipped inside. As we ran Logan began to transform back, returning to his normal size but with a 'pumped' look. As he was at the front I couldn't really see. Ollie and I had found ourselves at the back along side some of the chubbier Pack members. Ollie wasn't unfit, he just wanted to make sure I kept up. I wasn't unhealthy either but in comparison to the werewolves I was a Shetland pony thrown amongst a group of stallions. I only upside was that I got a nice view of everyone's behind. We came to a lake and Logan stopped. We followed suit and he smiled over at me. "Now, can all of you swim?" We all nodded. "Great, then follow me" And with that he ran along a small jetty that stretched into the lake and dived in. It was September so the water wasn't exactly warm, but I didn't think the temperature would be a good enough excuse not to go so I dived.

Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3688-packmates-werewolf-muscle-growth-part-1/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3691-packmates-part-3/ Part 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4032-packmates-part-4/ Part 5: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4526-packmates-part-5/ "Morning" I said chirpily as Ragnar and I entered the kitchen an hour later. Everyone in there was either naked, wearing a towel or a tank-top and shorts - as it was forecast to be very hot today. They all looked at each other and then to the mess they had created, then back to me. "Morning..." said Danny in a tone as nervous as that of someone diffusing a bomb. "Don't worry about the mess, you can clean up later" I replied, smiling sweetly. They all let out their held breaths, glad that I hadn't gone loopy. 'Like I would let them get away with trashing our kitchen'. "You're certainly in a good mood this morning, I'm guessing this big lug had something to do with it?" teased Craig as he came up behind me and put his hands on my waist. Still a little pissed off with the way he had treated me I grabbed his wrists and forced his hands away "Yes, he knows how to treat me right" I replied snidely. "Hey, I'm sorry okay? I didn't mean it" he grovelled, nuzzling me a little. I squeezed his hands and thought about his apology. I placed his hands back on me and leant back against him a little "Do it again and I swear to God I'll rip your balls off" I threatened, making him grin nervously. "There's the Layton I know" said Danny as he chuckled at Craig's discomfort and gulped down his coffee. "That goes for you too, lover boy" I warned before going to make myself some breakfast. I sat down between Ragnar and our Omega - Ollie. He had arrived this morning as he lived in London and could easily get the train to us. He was rather small, with very little muscle or fat and he had dyed-blue hair. He was wearing a purple tank top and tight black shorts; his feet were bare. "Layton!" he said happily as he threw his arms around me and hugged me tightly "I missed you" I hugged him back and echoed his words. As Omega, Ollie was in charge of keeping everyone in our Pack happy and content, as he was the most submissive. He was always able to cheer people up, as it was impossible not to want to be happy around him - the only person he couldn't help was Ragnar, which is where I came in. DING-DONG. The doorbell announced a new Packmate entering the house. Asad - the only werelion in Ragnar's main pack and the old Alpha of the werelions - glided out of the kitchen with a feline slink to his step. He was a very tall man, with powerful legs and arms but a long and flexible chest. His skin was jet black and his hair was tied back in dreads with real animal teeth interwoven into them. He, like Ollie, lived in London with his brother Ike and the rest of his Pack. But his fierce loyalty to Ragnar and their close friendship meant that he would help us out whenever and wherever. "It's the Scotts" his low and heavily African accented voice was clear and positive as it reverberated through the house. We heard him open the door (which I had fixed whilst I waited for Ragnar to return after my run in with the sword wielding maniac) and greet the 'Scotts' before they strolled into the kitchen. First came Angus, the largest of their group. He stooped under doorways sideways in order to fit his bulk through them. He was a purebred bull of a man and one of the strongest members of our Pack. He enjoyed challenging Ragnar to any form of contest, or so I'm told as I had never met the man before today. The last time Ragnar had gone to visit him (the first chance I had to meet him) my mum had fallen ill and I'd spent the week with her instead. "Ahhh, you must be the famous Human-Alpha I've heard about. Layton is it?" said Angus as he put his hands on my shoulders and grinned down at me. I touched his hand and smiled back before zapping him with electricity "You must be Angus, I hear you're a secondary Alpha" I replied, as he jolted away. "Heh, you certainly know how to pick 'em Ragnar. Small, feisty and cute. Just my type" he growled almost flirtatiously. Ragnar grabbed him in a headlock and grinned "Why thank you, but if you talk him down again I may have to find a new secondary Alpha" he threatened half heartedly as Angus began to wrestle with him a little. "Gotcha. Now where's the feast I was promised?" he said happily as Ragnar let go. "It'll be ready soon, I just need to go get the food. Fancy coming with me Ollie?" I asked, pulling him away from the rest of the Scotts who had surrounded him. "Yeah, of course" he replied as one grabbed his ass. Angus then did the same to him, making him turn to him and grin playfully. "I'll go get dressed then" I replied happily as I got up and then left the now rather crowded kitchen. I had to brush past Angus on my way out and I could tell that he was trying to impress me a little by flexing and grinning with a set of perfect teeth. I threw on a new pair of boxers and then searched for some shorts I didn't mind being seen in public in. Rag bounded up the stairs and came into my room as I buttoned up a white linen shirt. "Hey boy, they arguing again?" He just smiled and nuzzled against me. He only ventured upstairs when people were being aggressive so I sighed and kissed his forehead before going downstairs. As I walked into the kitchen the sudden tension I created could've been cut with a knife. Everyone's eyes went to mine; apart from Ragnar's - his were closed. "Have I interrupted something?" I asked innocently, holding myself a little awkwardly now. "Nah, we were just chatting. C'mon lets go" said Ollie with a visage of cheeriness. I let myself be pulled away, suddenly feeling slightly upset. I heard Ragnar punch one of the kitchen walls as Ollie closed the door behind me. He lead me over to his car and opened the door for me. He started speaking as soon as we were out of earshot "Some of the Pack members weren't happy to find out that they were being 'ruled' by a human Mage, they said it was too much like the old days. Ragnar silenced them but he can't cover for you too much else the Alphas won't respect him... Neither will Hircine" explained Ollie, his knuckles had gone white from his grip on the steering wheel. "I knew I wasn't going to be popular, I guess I just didn't expect it to happen this quickly..." I muttered, looking up at the road. "It's Bane. One of the old Lycans, he used his friendship with Hircine to convince Ragnar that you need to be bitten." he said before trying to act cheerily again. "Being a werewolf isn't too bad you know, you just have to put up with the shaving." "Yeah... The only problem is, I've already been bitten. I'm immune" I replied slightly shamefully "I'd have to have half my chest bitten off and a wolf spirit forced into my body and sealed there by Hircine himself." "That sounds... Painful" said Ollie quietly as we drove past an empty park, one that was usually full of kids at every hour of the day. "Yeah... I'm not really that eager to go through with it" I replied, sighing a little as we pulled into the supermarket parking lot. "I'm sure thing'll sort themselves out. Don't worry" Ollie encouraged once more, not really knowing how to respond. I smiled back at him and put on a brave face for the rest of our trip. When we got back to the house things seemed a little calmer and there was a new powerful presence in the front room. As Ollie and I entered we heard booming footsteps and watched the ceiling shake slightly as a hulking 8ft 5" behemoth of a man came to greet us. We could see every fibre of his dense, bulging muscles. His legs were as thicks as pillars and his thighs rubbed against one another as he walked, the three bulbous heads pushing his workout shorts to the max. His waist was thick and just as muscular, still managing to give his torso a V shape due to his wide, mountainous back. His abs jutted out of his frame by at least an inch, each one of them as large as a steel bar and just as strong. Above them his enormous pecs cast a shadow as they hung away from his body enough to shelter both myself and Ollie like an umbrella. He was shirtless so we could see his huge nipples staring down at the floor as his rolling pecs bounced about as he walked towards us. His bull-like neck tensed as he grinned happily at us, his thickly bearded face and reddish cheeks warming my heart. "Bear" I said happily as I moved towards him and felt his powerful embrace as he lifted me into the air and cradled me slightly. "Hey there, little cub. I've missed you" he said joyously as I was forced into his cleavage; which I could easily fit my arm into. "I've missed you too, where the hell have you been?" I asked as his chest hair tickled my face. "Travelling, visiting my pups, hibernating. I've been a very busy man. But don't worry I'm here now" he replied reassuringly as he tussled Ollie's hair and lead us into the living room. Two of his Pack members, Tank and Buck were sitting on the couch. Asad was sat in one of the armchairs by our fireplace and Bane was in the one opposite, facing away from us. "Who's the new guy?" asked Tank, referring to me as we hadn't met - but of course Ragnar spoke of his Pack a lot so I had picked up everyone's names. "Ragnar's little Alpha, Layton" replied Bear as Buck gave up his seat for him. At the sound of my name Bane snorted and laughed. "Oh please, he's not an Alpha" he cackled, glaring at me "he's human" "Well I can't really deny that he's human. But if Ragnar's chosen him to be Alpha then he's an Alpha. I don't mind it one bit" defended Bear, holding Bane's glare and daring him to challenge it. The room became tense afterwards as Bear looked for anyone else who seemed to have a problem with me. Bane stifled a whimper and looked away - no-one opposed Bear. He was Alpha of werebears and therefore just as powerful as Ragnar, as his kind had grown since the ancient times; unlike Asad's who now needed the help of the werewolves and werebears in order to survive. Hating the tension and conflict I created I tried to get up, however Bear's arm was locked around me and there was no way in a million years I'd be able to move it. "I'd better start cooking, everyone looks famished" I urged, smiling up at Bear. He kissed me on the cheek and then let go of me. I rushed into the kitchen, the usual Pack members and the Scott's were all there. The topic of discussion was Rugby and food - as per usual. They all got up and greeted me, mainly because they knew I was going to start cooking. I told them that I needed space and then ordered then to leave, though it was really only because I didn't want them to see me cry. Tears rolled down my cheeks like waterfalls as I unpacked the shopping onto the counter but I made no noise as I knew it would give Bane satisfaction to know he had upset me. Just as I began to cook the bacon we had bought I felt two massive arms hug me tightly "Please don't Cub" said Ragnar quietly as he buried his head in my shoulder. "It's all gonna turn out OK" "I-I don't k-know if I'm r-r-ready for this, Ragnar" I choked, trying my hardest not to sob and breakdown. Ragnar just cradled me in his arms and stroked my hair smiling down at me "I won't make you do anything you don't want to do Cub. I promise." I nodded and asked to be put down. "Thank you, Big guy" An hour later the food was ready and I was curled up in bed with Ollie and Rag. We had taken our own food upstairs as I didn't fancy being downstairs and Ollie wouldn't get any food if he stayed so we had shared a plate. I assumed the shouting we heard was about food or Rugby or Football or who had the nicest ass: Ollie or Ragnar. Until I heard a banging at the door "Layton! I challen-" "Don't you dare..." snarled Ragnar as I heard him get closer to the door. "I challenge you to the Alpha's trial" Bane called, I could hear his malevolent grin spread across his face. "W-what's that?" I whispered, looking over at Ollie but before he could answer Bane shouted. "A fight to the death-" "STOP!" bellowed Ragnar, causing everyone to flee from him and shut up. His voice was terrifying and harsh like a typhoon. He glared at Bane, he let the silence linger a little before breaking it. "Our Pack is in danger, that's why I've gathered us together. Our way of life is at risk of being exposed. Everyone is in danger. I don't need your petty little arguments right now. If I say Layton is an Alpha he's an Alpha. If I tell you to stop, you stop" Ragnar stalked towards Bane and lifted him into the air by his throat "and if you dare disobey me again, I will kill you" Ragnar then threw Bane along the corridor "Go down to the Den. Now." Needless to say Bane did as he was told. "All of you, get back downstairs and wait for me to return." The rest of the Pack scurried away, apart from Bear who stood next to Ragnar. "Go and get Bane prepared, he is to suffer" Bear nodded and strode down the corridor, his heavy footfalls hiding Ragnar's, who suddenly appeared next to me. "Ollie, could you leave us please" said Ragnar softly, though Ollie still sprinted out of the room. I knelt on the bed and stroked Ragnar's face "That was amazing" I complimented. "It was nothing. That wasn't even me fully pissed off" he replied as he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. I knew he needed to calm down and relax so I began to massage him, glad of the distraction and the intimacy. At around 1:30 Ragnar and I descended the stairs. The house was a lot more packed now as our welsh chapter had arrived, along with our contacts within the police and forensics. "Ragnar!" boomed a heavily accented welsh-man as he charged over to us and grabbed Ragnar by the shoulders. "Good to see you, what's occurring then?" "Someone's after our Pack, Gareth" Ragnar replied before the two of them embraced in a back breaking bear hug. "Anyone we know?" asked Gareth as Ragnar put his arm over him and lead him into the living room to where Asad, Bear, Angus and our police contact 'Copper' were waiting. "I think that the Fallen are striking back against us" said Ragnar gravely as he took his seat in the comfortable high-backed throne-like armchair by the fire. "If this is the case, we need to move to Wolf House. Else we may risk losing some of our members" "The fallen?" I questioned, hovering nervously by the door. Bear indicated for me to sit on his lap so I obeyed and Ragnar began to explain. "Centuries ago when I was starting the Pack my friends Miranda and Fenrir conceived a child together. They named him Lupus. The boy was remarkable, he was walking after a few weeks and his first words were when he was six months old. As he grew we all knew the boy was something special so we gave him the Bite prematurely; assuming it would help him to develop. Instead of helping him the Bite took over his body turning him into a wolf permanently... Or so we thought" Ragnar paused and lay back in the chair "The boy mutated, his body unable to handle the Bite but his brain forcing it to work and obey him. Fenrir tried to help him and Miranda used every remedy and spell she knew to try and help him but it was to no avail. The boy had become a freak of nature. A beast. We decided to put him down - knowing that he was in pain, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the cravings started. However, the boy anticipated our move and ran away, fleeing without a trace; leaving no scent to follow." "Over the years we heard stories about our son. Rumours that he was creating his own Pack - his mind shattered and twisted into thinking that he was a new breed. An evolution, the Apex of our kind" All heads turned to the doorway as it was blocked out by the largest man I had ever seen and a dazzlingly beautiful woman by his side. "And now he wants revenge" the man finished gruffly as he broke through the doorway and stood up fully. He was at least ten ft tall and as broad as a truck, his body was covered in scars and tattoos. His neck was thick and corded with muscle, bulging out as wide as my back on either side. His lats lead down to shoulders as large as beer kegs and pecs that jutted out from his frame like enormous bumpers, you could see every fibre of muscle underneath them as he flexed them slightly, causing them to roll and crash back down like a tsunami. Needless to say his humongous arms were pushed away from his body by them. His biceps, even un-flexed were larger than Ragnar's head and his forearms were no joke either. Each one of his eight abs were swollen and pushed to the maximum, each of them coming a foot away from his body and leading down to a sizeable bulge which hung away from his body. If you could force your eyes away you could see his enormous thighs, which were as thick as wheely bins and grinded together as he walked, forcing his manhood forwards. Ragnar stood up, dwarfed by the giant - which I hadn't thought was possible. "Thank you for coming, Fenrir. I've missed you" Ragnar said humbly. Fenrir looked like he was going to punch Ragnar - which'd probably break even Ragnar's indestructible bones - but then his rugged face cracked into a wolfish grin "Hmmph, I've missed you too. Little guy" he teased before the two of them hugged. Fenrir's incredible frame completely enveloping Ragnar's. "Fenrir, you're suffocating him" scalded the woman as he let go of Ragnar. "Pfft. I'm fine Miranda, it'll take more than an overgrown pup to put me down" said Ragnar as he then grabbed Miranda in a hug. Fenrir raised and eyebrow at him before looking around at all of us. "Human, Werebear, Werelion... Welshman. All we need now is a vampire and a God and it'll be just like old times" said Fenrir before letting out a hearty laugh which shook the ceiling and floor - which groaned under the behemoth's weight. "Oi what's that supposed to mean?" asked Gareth bravely as he stood up. Fenrir just laughed even more and patted him on the back, and ass (He had very big paws). Gareth fell forwards into Ragnar and Fenrir grinned "I was only teasing, I love your accent by the way" he almost flirted. "Alright Fen, stop antagonising your brothers. Why don't we go down to the den and get you caught up on who's who? You can meet the little shit who's been pissing me off recently, I think you remember him?" "Bane? Can't wait to see him again, still owes me a fight" Fenrir said happily as he followed Ragnar out of the room, taking a lot of the doorway with him "ohh, oops, sorry about that" As soon as he left the room seemed to breathe and take in the strong smell of alpha musk that had been left. "By the gods, I thought Bear was big. But that guy? He's fucking huge!" exclaimed Gareth. "That's 'cause he walks around without his Chain. If I weren't wearing mine I'd beat him" defended Bear as he pulled out a chain necklace from under his shirt. Every member of our Pack who was too big to function in everyday life was required to wear one as it made you smaller. Bear didn't shrink too much because he could afford to live as a giant. I smiled up at Bear, finding it cute that he felt inadequate around Fenrir "I hate to break it to you but... He was wearing a Chain" I muttered. I knew because I was the one who helped Ragnar to make everyone's chains, I could spot them from a mile away. "He's also older than Ragnar, with Miranda being much, much older than that so I think you can be excused for not being the biggest guy around" I stroked his bulbous biceps and nuzzled against his pecs "You're still big in my books" "Thanks Pup, you doing okay by the way?" he asked kindly as he began to wrap his arms around me. "Yeah I'm fine. Ragnar's got everything sorted" I replied truthfully. I had gotten over everything that had happened because Ragnar had a new plan for me. Bear's stomach churned and grumbled and so did Angus' "You got anymore food Pup? There's a lot of big guys here to feed now, no-one's very full even after your amazing meal" "Our local diner does large orders for us, I'll give you the number" I said helpfully as I felt his istomach vibrate once more. "You know what I'll just do it myself." I stood up and pulled out my phone before going to my speed dial... Yes we did have take-out that often. "But you're paying" "Fine with me, just make sure it gets here soon" grumbled Bear as he scratched his stomach. "Just leave it to me" I replied as I left the room. Tank and Buck walked past me, grinning. "Hey, Layton... Fancy hanging out with us later?" offered Buck as he turned around. A little shocked by their proposal I took a few seconds to reply "Um, sure. Why not, it should be fun" I said positively. I wanted to make a good impression on all the new Pack members. "Think you can bring along that big guy too? He looks like a lot of fun" said Buck as Tank put his arm over him and began to kiss his ear. "He's married, they've had a kid together... He'd probably rip you in half" I replied, a little surprised with their request. They looked at each other then down to me "So?" Flabbergasted I turned and went into the kitchen to find the menu. A few hours later I was sat in the garden with Ollie and Danny. "Have you two ever been to this, 'Wolf house'?" I asked as we began to swing on our garden chair. Our garden was quite big, as it had to accommodate Rag when we were out. "I stayed there for a weekend with some of the rugby lads. It's certainly well equipped for anything you had planned: Parties, sports, orgies, S&M, hunting" "What?" "Hunting. Got a lot of space too and a pool" said Danny happily. "That was a great weekend" "It sounds like a holiday, though I doubt it'll be as fun if we're at war with the Fallen" I replied, looking up at the sky now. Rag was sleeping under us, with his head in the flower beds. Suddenly I jolted forwards "Shit... My Uni course, I totally forgot" I groaned. "I'd better go finish up the work" Before Danny could convince me otherwise I had darted off and upstairs into my room. Buck Tank and I were prowling the house now, looking for fresh meat. We were used to having lots of potential partners available but here everyone liked to act like a 'total top' - apart from Ollie and Layton - so it was hard to find someone suitable. I was a pretty big guy so I didn't think it'd be too hard to find someone who would submit. It'd be even easier for Tank as he was only half a foot under Bear's height and about as broad. Eventually we found someone, a cute guy called Craig. He swaggered up to me and began flirting but I'd soon turned the tables and started kissing him as he was forced to back up into Tank, who began grinding on him. "Woah, you guys are certainly eager" he groaned as I dragged him into the downstairs bathroom. As I felt his dick grow against my own I began to pull off his shirt as Tank started to kiss his neck and bite his ear - tasting his prey. "Do you want the front or the back?" he asked me, grinning before he grabbed Craig's sweet plump ass. "I fancy the back" "Go right ahead Tank, I ain't stopping ya" I replied as Craig began to grin nervously. "I guess I'll take your ass then, Buck" he said, trying to sound confident. I just laughed and pulled down my shorts "You crack me up, Pup. Now lets get those pants off ya before Tank rips them off" I replied, stroking his face as he chuckled nervously again. We locked eyes and I challenged him to try and take control again, he back down pretty quickly and I smiled triumphantly "That's a good boy, you deserve a treat after that. Tank lets double up" "What?" asked Craig worried now. I kissed him on the lips as I began to pull off my boxers, grinding against him as I did so. "Don't worry I'm sure you can handle it." I assured as Tank began to rub his throbbing member between Craig's plump bubble butt "Just relax and it won't hurt a bit" Tank was grinning like a madman at this point, his dick was at least fifthteen inches and about as thick as a wine bottle. "You look pretty tight, Pup" noted Tank as he pulled a bottle of lube out of one of the bathroom cupboards and began to drench his dick with it before applying it to Craig's clenched hole with his thick fingers before one of them slipped inside. "Hmmph, not as tight as I thought. Ragnar's been in here, ain't he?" "Yeah, maybe you're not as big as you thought" growled Craig, pissing Tank off. "Ooooh wrong move, boy" I laughed as Tank rammed into Craig an entire foot of his meaty, muscular, throbbing cock. Craig grunted in pain and pleasure before he felt another hand on his ass, mine. "C'mon Tank make room, I ain't that small" I grumbled as I lubed up my own dick. It was about half a foot smaller than Tank but I certainly knew how to use my dick better than him. Tank growled at me then threw an arm around me and pulled me into his armpit. His arm then went lower as I forced my dick into Craig; who cried out in painful ecstasy as his hole was stretched beyond it's limits. Tanks fingers then crawled into my ass, making me convulse and impale Craig further "Right now lets get the real fun started" grunted Tank as he forced in the last three inches of his dick - the thickest part. "Please, oh god. Too much, just..." Craig panted and I was afraid he'd force us to stop "go slow" I grinned down at Craig before slapping his cute little ass "Aye aye captain" Tank began to thrust into Craig in unison with me, slow at first but then as his hole forced itself to accommodate our powerful erections we moved faster and faster. Craig was cumming all over the floor within the first minute but Tank and I were only just getting started "That better not be all of it" Tank grumbled as he grabbed Craig's dick and began to rub it. "We've barely started. Pup" After half an hour of thrusting Craig was reaching his limit so we released our first orgasm into him "That's the problem with werewolves, no stamina" grumbled Tank as he pulled out and stroked the back of my head "fancy cleaning me off?" "Oh god... I feel so full" groaned Craig as he looked back at me "you both?" I nodded happily and Tank chuckled and helped Craig stand up "We gave you a full tank don't worry" he joked as I cleaned off his dick; I couldn't get enough of his cum. "I hope you use our little boost wisely" I said looking him up and down "I mean you still look like a normal guy" "What do you mean, boost?" asked Craig confused. I rolled my eyes and lead him out of the bathroom, explaining to him that werewolves could absorb protein from any source - including cum - and turn it straight into muscle and that werebear cum was extra potent. "C'mon we'll take you to Bear, he's a pro. He can teach you how to do it" Tank said happily. As we dragged Craig over to Bear I saw Ollie and Danny sitting close together outside, Ollie was tucked against him. But their position wasn't what caught my attention, it was the bird on top of the swing seat that I was really looking at. It was a raven, a rare sight; especially since it's eyes were a toxic green colour. It also had a message wrapped around it's foot... I left Tank to carry Craig and told him I would be back. He gave me a serious glance, knowing I never gave up an opportunity to watch our prey grow. He didn't try to stop me but I felt his eyes on me as I moved towards the patio doors. As I approached them Danny and Ollie looked up, probably wondering why I was naked. When they pulled their 'oh yeah' faces and remembered that I had just come out of a house full of horny werewolves with nowhere to go, I was removing the message from the bird - which studied me with it's piercing green eye and attempted to pec- "Ow!" I snarled as the bird drew blood. Ollie and Danny rushed up when they saw me unravel the letter. "Give it to Ragnar" urged Ollie, but I had already started reading. Dear Father, I hear you've joined forces with the Fake Alpha and his gullible friends. I hope you know what you're in for then, I'm wiping out their pitiful Pack. This world isn't big enough for the both of us, my new breed will tear you all apart. If you don't believe that I can do it then try contacting your French Pack members. Lupus.

So I've been writing a story for a while based off of Skyrim and a fan fiction me and my friend used to write It does have muscle, muscle growth and gay stuff in it but I don't really know how good it is as no-one's really read it. If you like werewolves then I hope you like this. I'll readily answer any questions about the story as some thing may need explaining. Enjoy Also 'Hi' I haven't introduced myself yet really I'm into writing stuff and I suppose RPing to some extent as I write in first person Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3689-packmates-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3691-packmates-part-3/ Part 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4032-packmates-part-4/ Part 5: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4526-packmates-part-5/ (It's a little slow to start) "Ragnar?" I called from the top of the stairs down to his den. After a minute or so there was no response so I knew he'd be asleep. Sighing, I walked down the reinforced steps to his lair. The room held little light; the glow from the open stair doorway was far stronger than the bulbs and the blackout blinds were shut. The floor was plush carpet, worn thin by the sleeping behemoth in places. A large ripped up sofa sat in the corner, it would groan and grumble whenever someone sat on it - though it was incredibly comfortable. The behemoth was currently curled up in a hairy ball of warmth with another large dog "Rag". Neither snored but they both growled in their sleep occasionally. Despite it being the home of two beasts the smell wasn't unpleasant. It was musky and masculine, it smelt natural and woody. There was a small ventilation system nearer the ceiling but it was closed on any day that wasn't in summer. "Cub... Why're you here so early?" groaned the behemoth. "It's 11 o' clock Ragnar, you missed breakfast" I replied sitting on the couch. "You'd better have saved me some" he warned, standing up. The high ceiling actually continued to take up what would usually be the first floor. The main house started halfway up to any normal houses second floor. "Of course I did, it's warming in the oven... I thought you'd have smelled it by now" I replied as he dragged himself over to the couch and dropped down next to me, throwing his arm around me. "Thanks, I was getting hungry" he muttered, stroking his muscular furry chest. "Even after five burgers and a midnight raid of all the cupboards, again?" I scorned, punching his plump pec. He grinned and pulled me against him "I'll eat you in a minute if ya keep hitting me" "Hmmph, you wouldn't dare". I laughed, patted him and went to stand - but he grabbed my hand "I need to get to Uni" "Already?" he whined, giving me his puppy dog look. My heart would usually melt at the sight but I was worried about being late as I had an earlier class today. "Yeah, but if you let go now then maybe I'll pick you up something nice from the Butchers" I reasoned, knowing his weakness was meat. He smiled at me and then got up, hugging me tightly and kissing me. "Any normal man couldn't resist me Layton... I think that's why you're one of the good ones" I smiled at the compliment and I pulled my arms away "Oh believe me, if I didn't have Uni or my job I'd never leave this place" "Well you'd have to get food, I run on meat... That you eat... Not the other kind" he rambled, making himself laugh and scratch the back of his head. Embarrassed. "Sure, big guy. I'll see you later then, stay out if trouble!" I called as I ran upstairs. I grabbed a shirt from my bedroom and pulled on a pair of comfortable black trousers, then I went to the door and took my blazer off of the nearby peg. My only way to get to University today was my bike and then the train. It was a black mountain bike with claw marks on it, both real and painted on. Which made me look rather strange, given my smart attire. It took me forty minutes to get there. I attended Oxford university, I was studying early anthropology, but I had been allowed to work alongside the creative writing course in my spare time. I met up with my friend Craig and we rushed to our first anthropology lecture of the term. The speaker seemed to be very enthusiastic, even though the class had only fifteen students. Four if which were sports students who needed to kill some time. I enjoyed the class, as the speaker. "Mr. Oswald". Was talking about ancient Mayan Jaguar cults. The only downside was that I now had to research one, analyse the effects of it on their culture and diet. Basically the same thing we did every time. Luckily, I was dating a man who had been around through every civilisation, including the Mayan's. After the lecture me and Craig visited the library to study. On the way there some of the rowing team shoved us over because we were "In their way" It took all of my willpower not to blast them with some magic Ragnar had taught me. Craig rushed me away and we soon entered the library. Back at home Ragnar had finally emerged from his den. He followed his nose into the Kitchen and devoured the rest of the breakfast. He then went to the bathroom, shaved and dressed himself in his exercise clothes - which were almost as large as bed sheets. He went to the local gym for a few hours and attracted all the new members to come over or gawk at him. As Ragnar had a track record at the gym his friend who worked there told then all to leave, though he knew Ragnar liked to have his body noticed. Some of the more persistent gawkers followed Ragnar into the changing rooms in the hope that he would shower. They got what they wanted, but it was short lived as he quickly snarled at them and sent them packing. He then laughed to himself and continued showering alone. When I got home he was lying on the couch asleep, Rag was lying on his face smiling at me. He then leapt off and tackled me to the floor "Ooof, hey boy" I spluttered, as he had knocked the wind out of me. I then felt Rag's soft fur get pulled off of me and I was embraced by Ragnar's chest "Hey cub, you have a good day?" he asked as I nuzzled between his pecs. "It was alright, but I heard something curious... Apparently someone's gone missing in the local woods" I said, not wanting to ask Ragnar if he knew about it. I doubt he would be involved though. I felt myself get squeezed a little harder than usual then his gruff voice said, "I had nothing to do with it, cub" "I know, I just wondered if you could sense any new werewolves or vampires or anything connected to the disappearances" I said innocently. I felt the pressure on me lessen slightly and Ragnar looked down at me. His fierce eyes pierced through my Black fringe and then they turned soft and excited "A hunt?" I smiled, taking his hands and leaning backwards "I guess that means you don't need me to make dinner?" "Hmmmm... I guess not" he replied smiling now as he pulled me over to his luxurious fur bedding. It was thick and warm, it looked dirty but the fur was always clean and Ragnar made sure it was well kept. "What're you thinking... Big guy?" I asked flirtatiously, knowing the nick-name made him happy. "Well... You ran away this morning... How about we pick things up from there?" he suggested, flirtatiously as we lay down. At around five we both emerged from the basement and got re-dressed, re-washed and then Ragnar kissed me goodbye. He was starting his hunt early so he could collect information and inform any nearby Pack members. I decided to use my time continuing the work we had been set for Uni. Though with my attention span, I could only manage an hour of work. I paced around the house - not worrying, just procrastinating - occasionally throwing a grape into my mouth from the handful I got in the kitchen. DING DING! My phone rang out, alerting me and pulling me out of my day-dreaming. I ran over to it and then realised it was only a text. Panting a little, I sat down and read the text. "Open the tunnels" Now the text could either mean two things: One. Ragnar was bringing back some Pack members. Which means that things were about to get really crowded and... Messy Two. He was being chased by hunters or the police and things had gotten 'out of hand'. To be honest, neither was good news. I sighed and walked down into Ragnar's den, closed my eyes, held out my palms and stored by power. I had found out how to use magic from Ragnar's old books, luckily I had a knack for it. "Open!" I bellowed, my voice taking a physical form and searing a pattern onto the wall. It was a Nordic cross with a rose in the middle. It sent it's own power through the wall, much like using a password to unlock your computer. A door soon opened and a battered looking Ragnar stepped through. "Hey cub, I brought some friends" he wheezed as he slumped over to his couch and sat down. From the tunnel a pack of dogs came rushing out, tackling me to the floor and licking my face. Ragnar growled at them and they quickly got off me and began to transform back into their human forms. "Hey, cub. Long time no see eh?" said the largest one. Danny. I smiled awkwardly as we used to have a 'thing' for each other and then said, "Yeah, it's good to see you" He seemed to take this as "C'mere and grope me with an inappropriate hug" though. I squirmed a little but otherwise enjoyed it. "Heh, sorry cub. It's just been awhile". I laughed and patted his chest then walked over to Ragnar; who was currently sprawled across the plush couch. "So how was it?" I asked cautiously, knowing Ragnar could still be annoyed. "We didn't find the killer, he's not a mutt and he's smarter than we thought" he said gruffly as another werewolf sat down next to us. He was tall and wide, but he had a bodybuilders body and therefore no hair on it - which meant he had to shave every hour or so. "We got a faint scent though, we can catch him" said the body-builder look-a-like. "You're so naive, Danté" said a smaller werewolf, if I went to high school he would be one of the Jocks who beat me up and then secretly kissed me in the bathroom. "And you're turning into a pessimist, Craig" I teased, he grinned at me and then walked over. He squeezed between me and Danté, throwing his arm over me and holding me closer. He had picked his 'meal'. Of course, Danny wasn't happy about this as he considered me as his partner. "Oi! Gerrof 'im" he growled, moving over to Craig and towering above him. Craig immediately stood up and pushed Danny away. "Here we go again..." I sighed as the two of them began figthing. Ragnar only stopped it once Danny had Craig pinned, he threw both of them into the corner of the room and then lead me over to his bed. "Oi! He's mine!" cried Craig, I flipped him off as I lay down. "I'm not a piece of meat. Craig". With that Ragnar put his arm over me and pulled me under him, blocking me from view. "I think I need cheering up, cub" he grumbled flirtatiously, I turned to him and nuzzled between his meaty pecs, each of which were larger than my chest. "Why don't you get one of these to do it? That's what they're here for, right?" I asked. "They're for later" he whispered, winking at me and then ripping my shirt in two. I don't know what really happened last night. I'm surrounded by naked men and now I'm trapped. Luckily, I could use a short ranged teleportation spell to escape without waking them. I then moved over to my secret stash of clothing in the west wall - which was fake. I then quickly got dressed, not wanting to wake the pile of starving, voracious werewolves. I then scampered upstairs and looked for food that I could cook. Unfortunately most of it was Ragnar and my own's comfort food. None of it was suitable for breakfast, not that I wanted to share it anyway. This meant I would have to ring the local diner and get our usual after-hunt order. It also meant I'd be biking for twenty minutes to pick it up. Half an hour later I arrived at the house. As soon as I stepped inside I could hear footsteps. Sighing I held out the many bags of food I had and waited for the oncoming horde of men. The first to arrive was Ragnar's aggressive Beta (not THE Beta, simply our little Pack's Beta). A mountain of a man, he was an ex-convict, but Ragnar had reformed him. He was covered in shaggy hair and he enjoyed making people uncomfortable. Luckily, for him, he was smart enough not to mess with me on days like this. He collected enough food for himself, the passive Beta (who again was only Beta of our smaller Pack) and Ragnar. He then said thanks and walked off. Next came the bigger wolves, the defenders of the Pack. Danny was amongst them, so he of course expected a larger portion from me. I thought about purposely giving it to Craig instead, but I knew it would upset him so I gave it to the 'huskier' Defender and just smiled at Danny. After I'd finished handing it out to everyone I sat in the kitchen and ate my own breakfast. Tea and a sausage muffin. I wolfed it down and then heard the regular arguments start over food. I sighed and went to find my headphones, knowing if I listened for too long I'd go down there and get involved. "Cub? Where are you?" called Ragnar as he finally came upstairs. I couldn't hear him so I continued to work out in the gym, it was too early for weights so I was just sitting on the rowing machine, pulling it half-heartedly. Suddenly I was lifted off of it and into the air. I pulled out my headphones and heard Ragnar growl, "Ignoring me, eh?" I laughed and he put me down "I was just ignoring all your subordinates, moaning and groaning about food" "Heh, well blame your boyfriend" he teased, poking me in the shoulder. I punched him back playfully "That's not funny" Ragnar grinned deviously at me and lifted me back into the air "You know what happens to pups who hit me..." "Hmmph, bring it on" I threatened, he raised an eyebrow and then turned to human form. He pulled me into a bear hug, which clicked my back back into place - it had been hurting after last night. He then smiled warmly and began to kiss me, his tongue battling my own as it entered my mouth. I was worried about leaving the Pack alone in my house whilst I went to University. They may have been loyal, but they certainly weren't tidy or mature. I tried not to worry, I get enough stress from my courses and I really don't want my hair to fall out or something. There was a large crowd of people outside my college, which was surprising as it was pouring down with rain. As I saw what they were all looking at I stifled a moan. Hanging, suspended against the iron bars was the body of a wolf. However, I knew in my gut that this was a threat to our Pack. The wolf was really a man, trapped forever in a primal prison. "Stand back! Stand back!" called a rather large policeman, whom was being followed by a small group of official looking men. I suspected one was a detective, another perhaps a journalist (As he was wearing a camera around his neck), the rest were most likely Oxford staff. "This college will be off limits to everyone bar the two students studying here and their professors! Now all of you need to leave!" shouted one of the Oxford staff, I knew his face but his name and job escaped me. "Layton! What's going on?" whispered a girl hastily on my right. "Don't worry, it's just a prank" I assured her - knowing that this was far from a prank. It was a threat and it worked... "Ragnar!" I yelled as soon as I got home. Silence. "Oh no..." I began frantically searching the house. No-one was here. Whoever made that threat knew it would make me come straight back here... "Layton... You're the puny little human Alpha that everyone's been talking about" I froze, scared half to death by the noise. I slowly turned around and saw a large man dressed in black close the door. He was at least Ragnar's height, not as strong; though he made up for that with the large sword that he held. He took a step towards me, the blade dragging across the floor, I took three back; hoping to stay out of his range. "W-who are you?" I stammered. He smiled broadly and it made me shiver "Weaklings like you don't deserve to know that" he sneered, taking another step forward and forcing me to retreat "especially those who think they deserve to be an Alpha..." "I d-don't... I'm not a werewolf" I replied, trying to stop my hands from shaking. I balled my fist and then began to charge up some magic "and I'm not weak!" I released the magic, sending it at him as a bolt of electricity. He flew through the air and smashed through the doorway. I moved towards him and this time he scrambled away a little, the right side of his chest was singed burnt. "So you're a Mage? Well next time I'll be ready for your cheap tricks" he spat, transforming into a wolf and grabbing the sword using his mouth before running off. "Coward!" I shouted angrily as our neighbours started to appear. I waved awkwardly and then rushed inside. "Where the hell is everyone?!" I thought to myself "Surely they wouldn't leave the house empty without a good reason..." An hour later the Pack returned, most looked like they had been pulled through a hedge backwards, others had slightly singed clothing. When Ragnar saw what had happened he immediately tensed up, but as I stepped out to greet them he immediately tackled me in a hug and squeezed me tightly. "Where the hell have you all been?" I asked, still a little annoyed. He squeezed me harder and mumbled, "I'm so sorry, we were tricked. We thought we had found the murderer, but we were all lead astray" I hugged him back, glad of the protection he provided "Don't worry... I'm okay, I got to see the guy's face too" I replied, trying to calm down and remain positive. "Brilliant. Should we get the police involved?" he asked helpfully. He still hadn't let go of me and the others had already gone down to Ragnar's den. "No, he had a weapon. A large sword. I don't want anyone getting hurt" I replied firmly as I squeezed him tighter. "Were you hurt?" he asked, instantly more concerned as he looked me over, I could sense his gradually rising emotions reaching for the surface. I immediately shook my head and smiled saying, "I'm not some defenseless little cub, I can handle myself". He seemed to calm down after hearing that but for the rest of the night he didn't let anyone near me and I heard him phone up some of our other Packmates, asking for them to 'visit' to help look after the place. In the morning I woke up with Ragnar curled around me. My phone was next to me, I checked it and saw a text from my University - my lectures that week had been cancelled and all the work had been e-mailed to me. "Sounds like this week's gonna be fun" grumbled Ragnar as he engulfed me in his humongous frame. He may have been worried about me but to him that just meant we needed to be closer. Besides, I didn't exactly mind staying in bed with him in the mornings, he was always happier during the day with mornings like this. "What do you have planned then?" I asked innocently as he began to kiss my neck, his signal that he wanted to begin. "Oh" I felt his manhood press against me "I see."

(First time posting here, I know there's mistakes and i'm looking for feedback as well. Let me know and enjoy.) Lord Asher, Part 1: Moving in. I sit in the back of our pick up truck driving down an empty country road. My little brother and father are trying to isolate me again, after all the trouble I caused in the city. Both of them are hoping that a small town life will help me calm down. I've been known to cause trouble where I go, this place won't be any different. Dad knocks on the glass of the truck, drawing my attention, he's still scared of me, I can sense it. “You doing alright back there Asher?” He shouts. I hunch my shoulders and pretend not to hear him. He keeps knocking until I decide to answer him. “I'm fine dammit.” I shout back. I can feel my little brothers eyes drilling into the back of my hoodie. I slam my elbow into the glass by his face, making him yelp as he turns back around. I smirk at this, I can't feed off my brothers fear of me, not without making him submit first, and my rotten father has never given me the chance to, being home schooled has left little options for me. I should explain, I'm a demon, born and bred from my mother, who's off Satan knows where. Left to my shitty human father, he's the only one who can see what I am and question it. My horns almost hidden by my shaggy hair and my tail, anyone else I just hypnotize, like my whiny little brother. He's fully human, can't stand him either. The truck finally starts slowing, rural area; light fog all the way up in Maine, a fishing town they said it was, I didn't care too much. The place looked shitty though, all the houses looked like shit, all the same beige color. We even passed three churches on our way, I flipped off each one until we finally stopped outside our new house, same color as every other, fucking beige. My brother pounds on the side of the truck, “Yo freak, you gonna come pick out your room or what?” My father comes around, opening the back of the truck, his eyes lock with my as I walk down, jumping off the end. “Asher, think you can behave around here?” he asks, I roll my eyes and shove him to the side. I'm only 18 and I stand half a foot taller then him at 6'7 in height. You couldn't tell from the hoodie hiding my body, but I'm pretty strong as well, having loaded the furniture into the truck mostly by myself. I'll be the one getting most of it out as well. “Please Asher, just try to behave?” He asks, practically begging me as I lift the arm chair out of the back. I laugh at him with a deep chuckle. “You're so pathetic.” I say, carrying the chair into the house. After a few more trips carrying things out of the truck, Father gets a phone call, “Asher, the truck carrying everything else broke down about an hour back, I gotta go get it, come on.” he says. I fold my arms over my chest, holding back a smirk. “Why don't you go get it yourself? I'll finish unpacking here. No sense in me stopping right?” He hesitates, “you'll leave your brother alone?” he asks, already slowly heading for the door. “Yeah, I promise, you asked me to behave right?” I smile at him. “Alright, Fine.” he says, not wanting to wait any longer. “Just go pick out your room and go back to work, before your brother claims all the rooms.” he says. He shuts the front door and with that he's gone. I stand there, waiting until I hear the truck start and drive away. Once it's gone I burst into a devilish smile, my pointed teeth just itching for some primal human lust. “Hey bro where are you?” I shout out, dropping my voice as I head upstairs. “Time for me to have some fun.” I laugh. Part 2: Growing to Like my Brother I thud up the creaky stairs in our new house, letting my tail scrape against the wall as I smirk. This should be good, Father finally screwed up and trusted me so now I'll take full advantage of it. “Where are you Jake?” I shout, looking for my brother. “Over here dipshit!” he shouts back. I duck into the room, leaning on the door frame as it creaks, the room has 3 windows, tall ceilings, and is already filled with boxers of his stuff. He's laying on his bed, blasting music from his headphones as he stares at me. “Hey Jake,” I smile down at him. “Nice room you picked. I was just wondering, how tall are you again?” I walk across the room, kicking his boxes to the side with my size 17 shoes. “I dunno, like 6'2. Why you asking, did you wanna rub it in my face that my little brother is taller then me?” he scoffs. “No no, not at all.” I smirk. “I just wanted to take this room as my own from my 22 year old college drop out of a brother. It's mine now bro.” I chuckle, looming over you. I place my huge boot in the middle of your chest. You struggle against my foot as I press down harder, your mattress springs creaking from the force I'm applying to your chest. “Fuck you, Asher!” He screams, I can hear what I think is a rib cracking under my boot. “The room is yours, just get off me. Please!” he whimpers. I scoff, god he's pathetic I lift my boot, watching him lay there grabbing his chest in pain. I smile, kneeling down on his mattress as I grab his arms, pinning him down “Say you submit to me, Jake.” His eyes dart to my hands keeping him pinned, the veins covering my hands make his eyes go wide as he manages to stutter a response. “D-dad told me to never say that to you...” he whines. At this I burst out into a roaring laughter. “Dad isn't here right now, you'll say you submit to me or I'll make you regret it.” I Grin, I drag my tongue along his neck, teasing him as I chuckle, I think he's about to pee himself. “Alright... I submit to you...” he said. The moment he said that I sat up, smirking down at him as I tilted my head back in a low moan, I could feel it.. his free will belonged to me now.. and I was going to take him for everything. I moved back off him, tossing my hoodie to the side. “Strip.” I commanded him, and like that he leaned up, stripping his shirt off. The giant imprint of my boot left on his chest. He peeled off his jeans and laid there on his bed, his face started turning red as he started to blush. Even when hypnotized he was still a pathetic little fuck. I flexed my arm over him, “you like this don't you, Jake?” I smiled as his head nodded. “well I fucking love it, and want more. Do you want to give me more you pathetic excuse for a brother?” He nodded again, and that was all I needed, I pulled down my pants and boxers, showing off a massive 10 inch cock and thick. “Worship me then runt.” I practically growled at him. I watched as he hurried across the bed, grabbing my cock with both his hands as he started rubbing it vigorously. “oh Asher... you're so huge! I can't wait for you to grow even bigger. Just look at how huge you are alre-” he said as I shoved his face onto my stiffening cock. As he licked and sucked my swelling rod I could feel my body finally inching bigger as well. My feet stretched bigger, pushing my toes against my boots as my legs grew next, I flexed my legs under me as I lifted up a couple inches. My body growing more cut against my jeans, my muscled ass swelling thicker and harder. My shirt didn't even fit anymore, it stretched out over my torso, no longer covering my abs as I was a good few inches taller now. My chest pulled the fabric tight as I flexed my pecs. Throughout all this my Demonic features improved as well, my tail grew thicker around the base and slightly longer, and I could feel my horns inching longer as well. I flashed a wicked smile down at you stared up like a puppy sucking my cock. “Good worship, Jake. What do you think of my body now?” I asked, stretching my arms towards the ceiling, snickering. I brought my arms down with a flex, tearing the shirt down my chest. “You're amazing Asher, you should have made me do this forever ago! Just imagine if you could get bigger!” he said, his unabashed praise made my body throb slightly in size. I grabbed his shoulders, squeezing him as he winched. “Jake, I'm going to take everything from you.” I said, slightly intoxicated off the growth. I shoved his face back on my massive rod, having him suck. As he did I started to expand again, and Jake started to shrink as I stole his size. My cock swelling in his mouth as he grew smaller and smaller until he was only 4 feet tall, my massive rod was literately choking him as he started pounding on my muscled thighs in a desperate attempt to save his life. The results of my growth were far more impressive; The seams of my jeans finally started splitting, allowing the monster thighs to show. My massive boots did no better as my feet pushed out the tops of the shoes. I kicked them off, watching the shredded boots land next to Jake. I pushed him off my cock. kneeling on his now deformed bed. Snickering as I realized he now has to reach up for my cock! Guessing based on his size I had to be close to 9 feet tall now. “Oooh Jake,” I moaned as I rubbed my newly muscled body. “Imagine if I had more people to worship me! I'd be a God!” I roared, my tail flicking out, lashing him across his face, leaving a gash. I laughed at this, smirking with my new sharper teeth. “Or Demon...” I pondered. Outside I heard a truck pull up, the horn honk as Jake flushed white on the bed before me. “D-dads home! What are we going to do!” I stood with a smirk, my new form naked on top with a pair of shredded jeans for my bottom. My larger horns poked against the ceiling, still growing slightly from Jake's continued worship. “Come slave, I think it's time we show you're shitty excuse for a father who's really in charge here.” I smirk, breaking the door frame apart as I headed downstairs to greet father. Part 3: Owning my Brother I bend over slightly, trying to fit down the stairs. My massive feet too big to fit on the steps. I can't help but chuckle as my feet crack the old wood under them, I notice my toenails have grown to a point, even my fingernails have grown sharper. So this is what power feels like. I laugh, shoving my feet through several steps at once to get down to the first floor. I hear my slave of a brother whimpering at the top of the steps. “Be quite slave, and get down here, now.” I command him, my tail lashing wildly as I wait for our father to walk in. The second he does his face is one of absolute terror. “Asher... What the hell! You promised to behave. What have you done to Jake? Jake?!” he called out, his jaw dropping as he saw Jake climbing down the side of the broken stairs behind me. I thud across the floor towards him, pulling him forward and slamming the door, making sure it won't open until I want it to. “You we're stupid to think I wouldn't take advantage of this.” I sneered, picking him up by the throat. “I think you'll find Jake more behaved from before. Jake, come here!” I ordered him. Watching him stumble over to me. “Kiss my feet, slave.” Within seconds he was on all fours, lapping his tongue across my feet. I laugh, kicking him onto his back. As I shove my foot on his body. I can feel his worship feeding me, my foot surging bigger on his chest. My sharpened nails scrape his chest, drawing blood. My demonic features grow the most, all with my father struggling helplessly in my hand, wrapping tighter around his neck. I tilt my head back with a roar, my tail growing almost double in length, growing twice as thick, landing on the floor with a thud behind me. I let out an egotistical laugh, the intense pleasure of the growth making my cock grow hard again. My horns thicken as well, growing longer and pressing back into the ceiling. I hit 11 feet tall before I stop growing, my slave whimpering again as I lift my foot off him. My father almost knocked out in my grip. I wrap my now thicker tail around his torso, releasing my grip as I hold him. “I should thank you dad, I wouldn't have grown if you weren’t so stupid. Shame I can't absorb you, you're still useless in the end.” I laughed at him. “Asher, you need to stop, this power of yours is building off worship, the more people that worship you the bigger you'll become!” he squirmed, trying to pull my tail off him as I held tighter. I stomped over to the basement door, opening it and tossing him down the stairs. “You'll stay down here, in case I need you again.” I smirked. With my giant foot I gave the crappy stairs a shove, watching them crumble as I shut the door on my screaming father. I turned my attention back to Jake, “Go get dressed slave, you're going to get me some new clothes and food.” I commanded as he tried to climb back up the stairs to his room. I walked over to the chair I had carried in when we first got here, now comically small compared to me, just like most of the house. I sat down, breaking the legs instantly as my ass filled the chair. I used my tail to slice off what remained of my pants, my throbbing cock breaking free as I stroked myself off. I licked my lips as I sat there stroking my massive 16 inch long cock. I could feel the worship of my brother. The fear from my father feeding me. I let out a primal roar as my cock exploded. I felt the fear spike down my back from the neighboring houses... I knew from that moment, I was going to outgrow the world. Part 4: Power Spike I let out loud roar, smirking in satisfaction of how deep my voice was becoming. I had sent Jake out to the mall for everything I needed a few hours ago. To keep myself occupied I started roaring every now and then, each one deeper then the last, and each time I could feel the fear of more and more people in the surrounding neighborhood; the flimsy walls of this place felt like they would come down at any moment. I had pretty much ruined everything in reach with my tail, slashing it all to bits out of boredom. All the power I’d been absorbing from the neighborhood I hadn't used yet.. I've been storing it, the pressure I feel building inside my body is powerful.. I just need a little bit more. The damaged front door swings open slowly, scraping across the floor. It's only Jake, I stare down at him, watching him carry everything in, slowly dropping it next to my huge feet. “I got everything you asked for, Asher.” he huffed out of breath. “Good slave, kiss my feet and go make my food now.” I commanded, he dropped to his knees, kissed my feet and scurried into the kitchen. I picked through the bags of clothes my good little brother brought me, fitting on a shirt that stretched, and a massive pair of black leather jeans. It all seemed too boring, with a flick of my tail I cut some rips in the shirt and jeans. Standing with a satisfied smirk I walked toward the kitchen, my horns making a loud scraping noise as I strolled through the house, forgoing my new size 22 boots for now. I walked up behind Jake, watching him cook the meat on the stove top. Reaching into the pile of uncooked meat, dropping a piece pieces into my mouth. A moan escaped me, “Flesh never tasted so good.” I chuckled, eating down a few more raw pieces of meat. There's a knock on the front door. “Go get that slave.” I say, folding my arms against my chest as he scurries to the door. A police officer stands behind it. “Evening son, We've gotten complaints of some loud animal roars coming from this place. Is your parents home?” I take over Jake's voice. “No they're not officer, but you're more then welcome to take a look around, we just moved in.” He strolls in, hands on his belt as he looks around, the second he enters the kitchen door frame my tail shoots out, wrapping around his neck as I pull him closer to me. I toss his gun to the side, smirking down as I loom over him. “I think you'll find yourself more obedient now officer.” I smile, squeezing my tail tighter around his neck. I start taking size from him... only half a foot before I drop him to the floor. “You belong to me now. Understand?” He nods. The size I had taken from him was enough to push me over the edge. The dam of power I'd consumed from the neighborhood burst. My back exploded, two wings unfurled from the confines of my shirt, the tips of my new wings hitting the ceiling.. I spread my wings with a chuckle, the faces of my two slaves full of awe and lust for my new form. I flex my arm, hearing the threads snap, thankfully the shirt holds. “Like what you see slaves? I'm not finished.. no where close..” I smirk, my teeth like fangs now, long, sharp and powerful. “find your gun and leave slave, make sure no one bothers me here again.” I shove him out of the kitchen with my foot, watching him scramble for the gun as he runs out wearing clothes too small for him. I walk back to my chair, it looks, darker.. more fitting for me then before. “Finish my food slave." I blink at myself. My voice.. so much deeper.. powerful, stronger. My own voice turning me on.. I could get used to this. “make sure you're dressed for tomorrow as well.” I smile laughing with a deep throat chuckle. “We're going to school.” Part 5: Attendance We arrive in the school courtyard, having been signed up before I arrived in town to the only all boys school in this shithole. Instantly all the boys freeze, staring at me in fear and awe. Some of them try to resist me, but all fail. None of them realize what I am. Already poking around in their heads and making them accept my huge size and demonic features. I smile and saunter across the lawn, tempting each boy with my huge bouncing muscled ass. My slave of a brother following me as he whimpers, nobody even takes notice of him as I duck inside the school, constantly crouching to avoid breaking the ceiling, for now. With some difficulty I make it to my homeroom, the doorframe groaning as the metal bends against my body. The teacher looks stunned, and sexy as well, I give my lips a quick lick, looking over his body. Buffed, tall, and scared of me already, my idea of a good meal. I shut the door behind me, giving the lock a flick, outside the classroom the hall has flooded with people lusting for a chance to see my body, my bros face pressed against the glass as sit in the front of the class, obviously too big to even try sitting anywhere else. My wide muscled back blocking the view for most of the class. I sit there hunched over, never once taking my eyes off the teacher. Above even my brother’s worship, I can feel this guy’s lust for me, my wings unfurl slightly, and I make my biceps jump as he starts talking. I watch in amusement as he constantly gets side tracked, jumping to strange topics I planted in his head, like exactly how much I can lift and describing each of my power muscles to the class. After some time of this I can feel a haze filling the room, it’s my own musk, but the scent combined with the teachers description of my amazing body has caused some students in the back to start rubbing themselves. Each student in worship of my power as I hold back my growth, just a few moments longer. I cut the teacher off, my chuckle a deep rumble as I approach the front of the room, I give him a push down under my boot, ignoring the moan of pleasure escaping from him as I face the rest of my intoxicated class. “I think we get the image our teacher was explaining,” I grin lustfully, “But just in case here’s an example!” I grunt, flexing my arms as they knock the ceiling tiles loose. I watch with renewed lust in my eyes as the class shudders in front of me. “Just to be clear, I own you all now.” I smirk, sitting on the floor with a thud, pulling the teacher out from under me. “Yo, teach, Worship these pits.” I order, watching him scamper to bury his face in my muscled pit. “The rest of you jack off to me, you can join him when you’re done.” I order. Two students join him almost immediately, pulling off my massive boots with two heavy thuds as the start licking my feet without pause. I hold back a groan, the worship already so strong as I grow slightly. Outside the classroom I can hear my brother chanting with half the school crowded into the hall behind him. “Asher… Asher… Asher…” Each time my chest pulses and I swell larger, even sitting my horns are reaching the ceiling. After a short while everyone in the classroom is on my body somewhere, lost in worship of my massive size and power. I decide to have some fun. With almost no effort at all I start draining every worshiper on me, taking their size and adding it to me. Inch by inch they grow smaller on me as I bend to keep my head in the room, I stop draining once my wings hit the ceiling, leaving them all at about 3 feet tall on average. The sight of all these people so small on my huge body intoxicates me. I grab the shrunken teacher from under my arm, squeezing ever so lightly before I hear several of his ribs snap. That alone made me go hard, I decided there that I never want to stop... The power alone is just too damn good. I break open the classroom door, watching the worshipers scramble in as I get on my knees, body slamming the wall, not caring about the runts around me. “Follow me to the gym Slaves.” I command, moving so I’ll have more room as my massive shoulder length almost reaches from side to side to side of the hall, placing me at about 17 feet tall already. “This school won’t hold me long.” I boom my clothes ready to tear off as I plan my next growing phase.

For continuity purposes, you may want to reread The Separations of An Unfortunate Man first: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2378-the-separations-of-an-unfortunate-man-dales-perspective/ ‘Hold on for a minute…..I have to get dressed. *whispers under his breath* Who in the hell would come to the door at six am? I sweat to gawd if it is Arlo I will…..’ Glenn Kapers slides his shorts on quickly after completing one of his cardio sessions. He wonders if he should put a shirt on or not since he isn’t sure who it could be so early at his front door. He takes his time getting to there and notices an older man with his back to him sort of standing in a fairly cocky stance. The man has a decent sized back tucked away inside a grey t-shirt. His legs are also nicely built hugging a tight pair of blue jeans. When he opens the door, the man turns around and smiles at him. The man’s greyish beard shines in the sun as his pearly whites look nearly perfect. It turns out to be his ex’s father Keith Holton. He looks down at Glenn’s sweaty chest as droplets cascade down his hairy pecs and abs. ‘Hello there Glenn just thought I would stop by and have a nice chat with you if you don’t mind.’ Glenn seems surprised by this and makes a strange face at him. ‘Uhhh okay…..I suppose you are needing to talk to me about Dale then? We are not dating anymore if that is what this is about.’ ‘No no…..well…..I know you two are still pretty close though so I thought I would come by and find out what he has been saying to you about our relationship.’ Once again Glenn looks at the older man and seems a bit confused as to what he means. ‘Mr. Holton, me and Dale do have a strong friendship, but I’m not sure what he has been telling me has anything to do with your relationship with him.’ Keith continues to smile at him occasionally making glances at the younger man’s bare chest and arms. Glenn sighs a little before putting one of his hands on the door frame. His sweaty arm glistens with sweat making Keith stare at it intently as the veins jump. ‘Can I come in for a little bit Glenn? You know me well enough that I’m not going to attack you right?’ The shirtless young man thinks for a few seconds before moving out of Keith’s way to allow him to come inside. The older man enters and walks into Glenn’s tv area before turning around to see if he is following. He sees him put a tank top on and makes a few unfavorable noises. Glenn hears him do this and stares him down. Keith cocks his mouth to the side of his face and shakes his head no. ‘Why are you really here Mr. Holton? You have been staring me down since you got here. I think your intentions are not exactly what you implied. Ohh and Dale has actually mentioned a few times lately how much you have been harassing him for no apparent reason.’ The older man starts walking towards him which prompts Glenn to start moving backwards himself towards the nearby wall. ‘I guess you are right Glenn, maybe my intentions are not exactly what they seem, at least on the surface.’ The mature man stops walking and stands about three feet from where Glenn is. He lets out a few moans and starts sweating from his head and neck. The young hairy stud turns to find a path away from Keith so that he doesn’t get cornered. The sweating increases on the older man as it dribbles down his chest and begins to soak the front and sides of his shirt. Glenn tries to find his cell phone on the nearby table to call Dale, but ends up dropping it on the ground. Keith hears it fall and looks at it. He chuckles a little as he turns his attention back up to Glenn again. He makes a few stretching motions as it appears that he is getting some kind of pump. The young stud goes into a defensive stance now in case he has to do something drastic. ‘Mr. Holton…..I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you but it appears that you are in some kind of distress. I think maybe you should go to the hospital or something before you get any worse.’ A few stretching sounds are starting to come from Keith’s body. Glenn hears them and can’t figure out why this is happening. He notices that Keith’s jeans look a lot tighter than they did before. Both legs sound like they are in vises as the denim is compressed to its limits. Keith looks down at them and grunts feeling the pressure building waiting for them to make their entrance. ‘Uhh…..maybe I should help you to your car…..’ Keith stops him mid-sentence and growls. ‘MMMMMM…..no Glenn…..*a few seams rip in both legs*…….ahhh…..I just want to show you…..*more seams rip as his emerging hairy quads start to reveal themselves* who I can become. The feeling is so fucking intoxicating. *the rest of the seam rips as his quads and hams break free still growing*’ Glenn is dumbfounded as to why this is even happening to Keith. He can feel his cock jumping though in his shorts which surprises him. The mature man can sense it too as he smiles and sees a little glimmer in Glenn’s eyes. ‘It is just starting sexy boy. *feels it moving down into his calves and feet* AHHH shit…..*his calves start growing and pressing against the rest of his pant legs* mmmmm fuck Glenn…..it shouldn’t feel this good…..*feels his feet growing and stretching the leather in his shoes until they start splitting*’ Glenn’s cock begins tenting in his pants which he quickly adjusts to make it sit off to the left side. It throbs incessantly as his balls begin to swell up with cum. He realizes that he has always had this thing for older men and muscles. He wishes though that it didn’t pertain to his ex’s dad, but he can’t hide it. Keith’s feet finally bust out of their confines and continue to thicken. His calves rip through the remaining seams along the sides of his jeans as his huge hairy lower half glistens. The young admirer cannot help but to see the huge bulge starting to swell in Keith’s crotch. The growing man moans loudly feeling the rush moving into his ass and balls. ‘OH FUCK! It never ceases to amaze me how fucking hung I get. *feels the seams in his ass and crotch starting to give way* MMMMMM BABY! You want to see what a real man’s cock looks like sexy, wait till you see mine.’ Keith’s crotch rips open revealing his soaked jock which is struggling to stay on his thickening frame. The seams in his ass rip open making him look behind to watch his glutes swelling and destroying the denim. The growth makes his waist thicken as the rest of his jeans rip completely off exposing his entire lower half except for his jock which is barely containing the enormous rod swelling from within the pouch. He sighs for a few moments as he turns his head back around and looks into Glenn’s eyes again. The young stud is mesmerized now as he stares down at Keith’s massive tree trunks. He can’t speak either as he scans the big man’s entire lower body. Keith gets a little bit of his composure back long enough to motion for Glenn to come to him. ‘Come here sexy boy. You don’t have to stand over there. You are getting to see the real me Glenn, well…..sort of. *tries to hold it back for a few more seconds* MMMMMM…..I can control it…..*feels it moving into his chest* to a point……ahhhh…..*feels his cock aching as it fills his jock with pre* gawd…..i love it when it gets to my chest…..*his abs start to widen and stretch*…..fuck yeah!’ Glenn grimaces feeling his cock welling up like it is about to burst. He doesn’t touch it but yet it feels like it is being stroked over and over again. He can see Keith’s stomach reshaping itself as his abs thicken up and stretch wider turning into huge tiles. The fur on them is now turning from salt and peppery to brown and black. The big man’s back is starting to pop now too as Glenn can see him gradually getting taller. His grey shirt begins rising up from his waist and stops once it gets to the top of his immense eight-pack. The young man is having trouble keeping his composure now as well as he spills a pile of precum on to the floor beneath his shorts. Keith is beginning to feel his mind wander now as he labors his breathing. ‘Uhhhh fuck yeah Glenn! I can’t hold back much longer…..*pecs begin expanding as his upper back and lats begin ripping his shirt* AHHH! *looks down and sees the puddle forming below Glenn’s shorts* Yeah sexy, get off on me. Dale can’t please you like daddy Keith…..*pinches his nipples as they start to emerge from his shirt* or…..*shirt shreds as his massive hairy pecs bust out* rather…..my younger half.’ He grunts feeling his shirt rip open in the front and back as his pecs and delts keep growing. He clenches his fists and feels them swelling as he watches the veins pumping bigger and wider. Glenn moans as he dumps several jets of cum into the floor. Seeing Keith’s forearms growing sets him off. The older man is now in sheer ecstasy straining as his arms grow thicker tearing their way through his shirt sleeves. He gasps feeling the muscles in his biceps and triceps stretching as well as the bloated veins. Glenn can’t take his eyes off of them watching the bulbs triple in size. ‘AHHH FUCKING YEAH! MMMMMM……*his shoulders and traps blow up in size destroying the remainder of his shirt* Glenn…..*feels his neck stretching as the veins and muscles grow wider* it is time for you to meet Kliff…..*his eyes go back into his head as his greyish facial hair changes to brownish black and the hair on his head does the same*’ Glenn continues to shoot cum on the ground and can’t seem to move. He doesn’t know what Keith meant when he said what he said and gets nervous. The huge muscleman in front of him continues to grunt as he opens his eyes. The young stud seems to remember that Keith’s eyes were brown, but now they are a deep green. He looks into them and feels like he is being put into a trance. He tries to resist the temptation to go over to him, but it is getting harder to fight. The man grins and reaches up to run his huge hands down his furry chest. Glenn moans and feels a bit lightheaded. The man sees this and rushes over to catch him before he falls. ‘I got you baby. *wraps his 23” cannons around Glenn’s back* Look at me hot stuff! *Glenn immediately looks up at him* I know you like your men hairy and huge, why don’t you go ahead and service this one. Dale won’t ever have to know. *winks before two loud snapping noises come from his huge hamstrings* Whoops! It looks like he will have to be given some attention too.’ The snapping that Glenn heard were the straps barely clinging to the big man’s hamstrings from his jock. As they give way, his huge cock falls out of his jock and dumps a huge stream of precum into the floor. He reaches down and gives it a few strokes getting it all wet and shiny. Glenn’s eyes grow wide staring at the huge hairy rod as it pulses. The huge man directs his attention back to his face again. ‘Hehe, unlike Keith I am a little more nurturing. I’m not just going to plow you and leave like he would. I have wanted to get to know you for a while baby. Keith just wanted to fuck with you because of Dale, but I wouldn’t let him. Now that I have control, I will do what I want.’ He leans down to slowly kiss Glenn on the lips. This immediately leads to the young stud leaning against his huge chest and massaging it with his hands. The man flexes his abs and bounces his pecs for him as he runs his fingers up and down the hairy forest. This lasts for several minutes before Glenn stops to ask him a question. ‘Who are you? I mean…..*seems confused* how is this happening?’ The huge man smiles at him and hugs him burying Glenn’s face into his hairy pecs. The young stud quickly finds his nipples and nurses them. They both moan deeply before the hairy behemoth pulls Glenn’s shorts off and rubs his cock up against his hole. The young admirer licks the hair between the man’s abs and kisses each one individually before running his tongue between both pecs and kissing his shelf which prompts the huge behemoth to squeeze him before speaking again. ‘I’m Kliff Templeton. Keith tries to keep me hidden because he thinks he can somehow keep me under control. Of course the problem with that is, once he lets me take over his body, the desire for growth overrides him so I just come at him full force and he can’t stop me. I still haven’t figured out how to hold him back though so he generally wins after just a few hours.’ Glenn looks up at Kliff’s face with lust in his eyes. The big man sees this and starts pushing his cock inside the eager bottom. He starts fucking Glenn with a lot of intensity as he pushes the young stud’s head into his heaving chest again. This goes on for several minutes before Kliff stops to kiss him again. Glenn is unable to resist any kind of advance the big man makes. The big hairy goliath pumps his arms making them bulge so that the young man will worship them. He grunts each time Glenn runs his tongue along the massive bulbs. He starts fucking him again and stops before his balls unload into his cock. He looks at Glenn again. ‘I know that Dale never told you about me and that was probably the right thing to do. The thing is though he also has a secret of his own. You see…..he has the same gift baby. Keith just has me, but Dale was imbued with two other souls. I know this because I can sense them when he is with his dad.’ Glenn is shocked by this and wonders how Dale was able to keep them from ever coming out. ‘Good question Glenn. Dale has more restraint I think. I’m sure though there have been times that he wanted to let them out with you. I know being with you right now that you deep down crave feeling muscle in and out of you. *bounces his pecs and flexes his biceps* Ohh and of course something else too.’ Kliff thrusts inside Glenn several more times before finally pumping the young stud full of cum. The sheer force makes him grip the massive man’s back. He laughs a little before leaning down to kiss Glenn deeply. This lasts for a few minutes. When Kliff finally finishes cumming, he pulls out and tells the young man to move up so he can slap his cock on his pecs. ‘I know you love these mountains Glenn, why don’t you dump some snow on them.’ *smiles* The young man moans and knows exactly what he means. He starts to stroke quickly but Kliff stops him after a few seconds. He redirects Glenn’s hands to his own biceps and tells him to feel them flexing and straining as he works his cock. The big man slowly works the young stud’s cock with both hands making Glenn agonize over the incredible sensation. After a few strokes in, Kliff runs his tongue over the piss slit lapping up the precum and moaning before going back to stroke it again. ‘You taste incredible baby, now feed my body. My pecs are hungry and want you to coat them.’ The big man works his lover’s cock with more authority as he feels it getting ready to burst. Glenn yells in delight as he sprays Kliff’s face and chest with several jets of cum. The hairy behemoth licks the cum off his beard with his tongue as he bounces his pecs which are now drenched in jizz. He stops stroking Glenn and pulls him in to kiss him and shove his tongue down the young stud’s throat. They embrace and lay on the floor together. After a few minutes of Kliff massaging Glenn’s body, the young man drifts off to sleep in his arms. The big stud gets up with Glenn in his pythons and places him in a chair in the tv area. Once he can see that the young man is in place, he kisses him again and turns to go out the front door. The exhausted young stud awakens minutes later and sees that Kliff is gone. He wonders if it was all just a dream or maybe just maybe it really happened. The next time he sees Dale, he will have to question him just to see if it is indeed true. When he gets up from the chair, his eyes immediately go straight to the tattered clothes and puddles of pre on the floor. Could it be? For additional perspectives, don't forget to read about Jeremiah: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2394-the-secrets-of-an-unfortunate-stud-jeremiahs-perspective/

Chapter 4 Lee Prentice was a pretty lucky guy, or so he thought. He had loving, accepting parents, a reasonably happy childhood, and he was working towards a Bachelor of Arts degree in Literature. He’d come out to his parents when he was sixteen, and while they were somewhat unsure about the situation (as was Lee), they remained supportive of their middle child. Lee had an older brother and a younger sister and they were both straight, and for a while, he wondered to himself if that didn’t make for his parents being more accepting of his sexuality. One day he asked his mother if that wasn’t the case, and she smiled, gave him a hug and said, “well, it doesn’t hurt.” Lee was popular in high school, and this largely defused any bully problems. He went out for track and proved himself an explosive sprinter. Coach had him work on strength training to improve his one-hundred-meter time, and it really helped. This also led him to stumble upon an incredibly effective anti-bullying technique– ask all the biggest guys for training tips. That’s how Lee became a gym rat. He wanted to get bigger, and he sought out advice from guys that could help him. Once the big guys saw that his dedication was real, they were surprisingly helpful, despite his obvious “gayness.” Not all of them were so accepting, but some of the biggest ones were, and that was all it took. He knew better than to show it at school, but Lee was a first-class muscle whore. He loved being surrounded by the big, studly guys in the weight room, and those were the images he took home each night to whack off. Lee’s problem was that he was a hard gainer. He’d eat like a horse and work out like a fiend, and just not put on any size. That’s not to say he didn’t look damned good– he was well proportioned and ripped to shreds, but he couldn’t get any bigger. He drew the line at steroids and told himself he’d just have to be satisfied with what he had. It was just after he graduated high school that he discovered the muscle growth chat room, and it was like a major part of his life fell into place. Boyfriends would come and go, but the chat room remained. Lee’s most recent relationship hadn’t survived long distance. The hundreds of miles between them when he went back to school became insurmountable. Earlier in the year, Lee had begun to suspect that one of the more prolific posters from the chat room was located on campus. Little by little, Lee wheedled information out of musclup32. One day at last, he spotted his quarry. Ham was sitting in a quiet corner of the library. Lee watched him for a couple of days, deciding that while Ham was a little on the scrawny side, he was still cute. It might be fun to fuck somebody smaller, for a change. Most important, however, was their mutual interest in all things muscle. Lee felt that if they could communicate in person the way they did in the chat room, that would be plenty hot for him. At the moment, Lee probably had more hotness than he could handle. It was good just a couple of minutes ago when Ham started bursting out of his clothes, fulfilling Lee’s deepest sexual fantasy. His erection was so instantaneous and so hard it was almost painful. Almost. Lee was about to run his tongue over every square inch of the magnificent muscle beast before him, when a massive hand clamped around his throat and lifted him high into the air. As his feet flailed, Lee tried to grab the gigantic forearm, but his hands didn’t even encircle it half way. Lust was rapidly giving way to sheer terror as the huge arm started to bend at the elbow. An enormous bicep, bigger than Lee’s head, leaped into prominence as his face was drawn slowly toward the creature, until Lee could feel it’s hot breath, and his body was sprawled across the incredible pec shelf like a child trying to reach across a kitchen counter. Darkness started to close around Lee, and he knew that the creature’s piercing green eyes would be the last thing he’d ever see. “A pretty boy,” the creature uttered, just before Lee lost consciousness. Ham woke with a start. He was curled into a ball, with his arms wrapped around his legs, and he was shivering. Once again, Ham awoke naked as a jaybird. This time, however, the situation was far worse, because he was outside. He seemed to be among some kind of shrubbery. Teeth chattering, he pulled aside some of the branches and tried to determine where he was. It was with some relief he realized he was still on campus, but far from his dorm. He looked around, but his clothing was nowhere to be seen. He was going insane; he was sure of it now. The last thing he remembered, he was in Lee’s room, having his head wound tended. He put his hand to his scalp. He couldn’t feel any wound! Did it even happen? The clock atop the library building indicated it was shortly after 3am. That meant he had a chance to get back to the dorm without being seen. How would he get in? He didn’t have his key card. He didn’t even have his phone. It didn’t matter. His roommate and ex-friend would probably just beat the shit out of him. Wait– did that kiss even happen? Ham put his hands over his privates and began dart from one little island of landscaping to another. He needed to get inside before he died of exposure. It was mid-October and that time of the night, the temperature was down in the forties. His leapfrogging from planter to planter took him close to the Athletic Center. The weight room and other facilities were available twenty-four hours, but like all the other buildings on campus, the gym required a key card to get in after hours. Ham spotted a door that was propped open with a chair, and a man smoking nearby. He had to get the man away from the door. From his cover in the bushes, Lee cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled as loud as he could. “Help! Help!” The man looked up with a furrowed brow. He took one last drag, ground the cigarette under his shoe and took a few tentative steps away from the doorway. Ham turned away from the man and shouted once again. “Over here!” This time, the man started peering intently out into the darkness. He paused, as if waiting for another cry, but Ham remained silent. That is, except for his chattering teeth. When the man walked down to the end of the building to look around the corner, Ham made a break for the door and made it inside just before the man could turn back. The warm air greeted Ham like a long lost friend as he ran into the building. At the same time, he prayed he wouldn’t encounter anyone in the hallway as he headed for the locker room. As he entered, he thought he could hear the outside door closing as the man returned to the building. Ham breathed a sigh of relief once he was inside the locker room. At least here he had an excuse for being naked. He snatched a towel from the stack on the counter and wrapped it around his waist. How to make sense of it all? Ham found a bench at the farthest end of the locker room and sat down. He put his face in his hands and started to weep. Be strong. Ham pulled himself together. He wiped his face with the corner of his towel and blew his nose. “Hey buddy, are you okay?” The man from the door was standing in front of him. He looked young enough to be a student– in fact he was wearing a letterman’s jacket. “I’m... I’m fine,” Ham said with a sniff. “I didn’t see you come in,” the man said. “I was just leaving,” Ham said. “You are a student here, aren’t you?” Ham noticed the little gold name tag– ‘Fred Wilson’ in red letters. Fred must be the night attendant. “Yeah. I live in Armitage Hall.” “Do you have your student ID?” “I lost it.” “How did you get in?” “The door was open.” Ham sniffed again and Fred sat down next to him. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Fred asked again. “What’s your name?” “I was just leaving.” “I can sign you in, but I’ll need your name.” “Ham... Hamish Conner.” Fred stood up and turned back to Ham. “Make sure you sign out at the counter before you leave,” he said. As Fred started to walk away, Ham spoke again. “What did you mean just then?” “Huh? I don’t follow..” “You said ‘be strong.’” Fred stuck out his lower lip and shook his head slightly. “I didn’t say that,” he said, and walked away. Once Fred had left the locker room, Ham sat alone in the numbing silence. Be strong. Ham drew in a sharp breath as he leaped to his feet. “No, no, no!” he said as he clamped his hands over his ears. Be calm. And strangely, he was. Ham walked over to the full length mirror and studied his image. You can be who you want to be. Ham started breathing deeply. As he did, his image started to change. Slowly at first, his once pasty-white complexion changed to the healthy glow of one who spent all of his free time worshiping the sun. At the same time, the vascularity of his entire body became far more prominent as every last ounce of subcutaneous fat seemed to boil away. The now familiar tingling in his spine was next, only now, he knew it would be different. Ham’s frame started to completely redesign itself. His shoulders got broader, his hips got narrower, and his limbs got longer. Most noticeable at this stage was the restructuring of the bones of his face. Ham’s cheek bones got more prominent, his jaw line got stronger, his brow got heavier and his nose got finer. Lastly came the muscles. Not the insanely overdeveloped muscles of previous transformations, but the powerful, well proportioned ones of a truly gifted athlete. A light dusting of hair spread across his perfect pecs. Ham’s towel fell to the floor, revealing an eight-inch cock of such beauty and power that it was breathtaking. Staring back at him from the mirror was the image of Ham’s roommate, Paul. Ham put his hand to his chest, and so did Paul. He touched his other hand to his face, and once again, so did Paul. “Hamish, I just need you to sign...” Ham glanced over his reflection’s shoulder and saw Fred standing just inside the door holding a clipboard and a look of confusion on his face. “Oh... um... hi, Paul,” he said, “how long have you been here?” Ham turned and started walking toward Fred, his magnificent member bobbing with every step. “Not long,” he said. As Ham approached Fred, he realized that he was now a couple of inches taller than the other man. He stopped at arm’s length and looked down into the eyes of the smaller man. “Did you see...” “You want me,” Ham interrupted. “Um... yeah, whatever. There was this other guy...” “Go on. It’s alright.” Fred’s eyes got glassy and he stopped speaking in mid-sentence. He relaxed his grip on his clipboard and it clattered to the floor. Ham reached out and gently put his hand on Fred’s neck and pulled him toward him. The two kissed deeply. Ham broke away and tilted his head back blissfully as Fred tipped his head forward and started nuzzling Ham’s rock-hard chest with his cheek. Ham felt bolts of pleasure shoot through him as Fred’s stubble rubbed against his nipples. Fred dropped to his knees and put his hand around Ham’s steely rod and began licking the engorged head. Soon he had it in his mouth, and Ham’s face became an ecstatic grimace As Fred took more and more of the turgid shaft. Ham reached out and started face-fucking the smaller man. Slowly at first, then with greater and greater enthusiasm, Fred took more and more of Ham’s member. Remarkably, Fred took the entire length without gagging, and Ham felt the explosive orgasm building up in his groin. Fred grunted as Ham threw back his head and screamed, pumping his massive load into the other man. Fred held on as long as he could until he fell back and Ham drenched him with his man-seed. Ham finally stopped shooting and surveyed the scene. Fred was leaning against the nearby wall, hot jism covering his face, his shoulders, the wall behind him, the floor beside him– even the clipboard. He took a couple of deep breathes, leaned back and fell into a peaceful slumber. Well done. Be proud. Ham walked into the showers and turned on the water. As the warmth flowed over him, he couldn’t help thinking about the power he now possessed. Where did it come from? Could he control it? It must have something to do with the lab explosion. As he pondered these questions, he felt the old Ham trying to reassert itself. This isn’t right! You’re a freak! A monster! But then, that blissful calmness washed back over him. This is the real you. This is who you are. You deserve this. Ham dried off and wrapped a fresh towel around his waist. He took a few more towels and tenderly wiped off the sleeping Fred’s face and did what he could to clean up, then headed back out into the pre-dawn darkness. The cold no longer seemed to be an issue to Ham’s new body, and he strode across the campus clad in just a towel as if it were something he did every day of the week. As he approached Armitage Hall, he realized he was still faced with the problem of access to the building. As he drew close to the building, he caught sight of his reflection in one of the darkened windows. From the neck down, he still looked like his buff roommate, but now Ham’s face was an improved version of his own. “I like it,” he said to himself as he admired the handsome visage. Ham stepped up to the intercom alongside the entrance and pondered who he’d have to wake to let him in. “Just what the hell are you doing?” Ham turned around and came face to face with a campus cop. He was typical of the breed– middle-aged and overweight. “I kinda locked myself out,” Ham said. “Kinda?” the cop replied sarcastically. “Do you have any ID?” Ham held his arms out, looked down at his semi-nude body and looked back at the cop. “Figures,” he said. “I’ll hafta’ call this in.” The cop reached for his radio, but before he could, Ham placed his hand gently on the cop’s shoulder. “Now officer,” he said soothingly, “wouldn’t it be easier just to let me in?” As the cop looked up into Ham’s eye’s, all thoughts of resistance drained away. “Well, I... I guess so,” he said haltingly. Ham smiled kindly as the cop waved his key card past the reader and pulled open the door. “One other thing, officer,” Ham said, “would that card also get me into my room?” “Why yes,” the cop said, almost trance-like, “yes, it would.” “Tell you what,” Ham continued, “you’re a busy man. Why don’t you just let me borrow your card? I’ll return it in the morning.” “I... I don’t see why not.” Ham gently took the card from the dazed man’s hand. “Thank you, officer,” Ham said. He bent down and gave him a peck on the cheek. turned, and left the cop standing in the doorway, blushing like a school girl. Paul had tossed and turned for hours trying to come to terms with what had happened earlier that night. It was a good thing Ham had run off, otherwise, it might have gotten ugly. The longer he stayed away the better. As he lay staring at the ceiling of the darkened room, he went over it in his mind once again. Ham didn’t just kiss him,, they kissed each other. It wasn’t possible– Paul was as straight as they come– secure in his manhood. So secure, in fact, it didn’t bother him one whit to have a gay roommate. Until tonight. The pull had been unmistakable and irresistible. And yet, after Ham was gone, he felt nothing. It had to be a bad dream. Paul was barely awake when he heard the door. Maybe he could roll over and pretend to be asleep– he’d deal with this in the morning. As the hallway light splashed across the room, he ventured a peak out of the corner of his eye. False alarm. “Wrong room, buddy,” he said as he squinted up at the towel-clad figure that was so obviously not Ham. It didn’t occurred to him to question how a stranger could open his door. “Oh, I think not,” the strangely familiar voice said. Something wasn’t right. After a split second, Paul’s brain recognized the threat– there was an intruder in his room. He threw off the bedclothes, sprang to his feet and grabbed his lacrosse stick. “Who the fuck are you?” Paul asked angrily. He was still wearing the sweat pants from earlier that evening, but not the shirt. “Come on Pauly, it’s just me,” Ham said. “Don’t fuck with me,” Paul said. “You won’t like it.” “Hey, I live here, remember?” As Ham started to close the door, Paul raised his stick. “I’m warning you!” Ham reached over and flicked on the light switch. “See, it’s just me, your buddy Ham.” True, the face looked like Ham, or rather a super-sexy, idealized version of it. But the body– that was all wrong. The real Ham was a scrawny shrimp. This guy was as big as him. And, quite frankly, just as good looking. No, strike that– he was better looking. Way better. It seemed to Paul it had suddenly gotten ten degrees hotter in that little room. Ham took a step forward and gently took the lacrosse stick from his roommate’s hands. “There, that’s better,” Ham said as he set the stick aside. “It’s warm in here, isn’t it?” Ham dropped his towel to the floor, and Paul instantly felt waves of sexual power radiate through the room. He felt the hardest erection of his life suddenly tenting in his sweats. A dark spot was forming at the tip. Ham put his hands on both sides of Paul’s neck and pulled him in for deep kiss. When he was finished, he looked at Paul with sparkling eyes. “I knew you’d be happy to see me.” Paul’s eyes were large as saucers and his mouth agape and he tried to speak. “Puh... puh...” Ham cocked his head slightly to one side and smiled slightly. “How’s that?” “Puh...” “Yes?” “Puh... please... fuck me.” Hamish Conner was pleased.

Chapters 7, 8 Precis so far: 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 need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. Chapter 7: Training Night 1: Good for Morale October 20th, 2021 1900 Hours The gym floor was buzzing with activity. Each man had a 5-gallon aluminum jug of water from which he regularly took enormous gulps, occasionally pausing to drench both himself and his training partners as needed to stave off the effects of the heat. All wore specially designed army green jockstraps. Regulation jocks were hardly adequate for their needs, and all 19 men (and especially Sergeant Moster) required XXX-large custom-fit pouches. Pendulously bulging, sweat, cum, and piss-stained, even these firm-gripping supersized mesh pouches could barely contain the musclemen’s super-sized genitalia. Gently curving cock shafts plunged from heavily veined, thin-skinned pelvic girdles on each man, leading to jaw-breaking cockheads. The jocks hugged the men’s cocks tightly, providing only barely adequate covering. Moster’s policy was that shorts and sweatpants were unnecessarily encumbering. All around the room, as the men moved from weight to weight, their mountainous packages swayed freely back and forth. On most of the men, the top 5 to 6 inches of their veiny cocks were visible, plunging into their over-burdened pouches. The men’s powerful, deeply striated glutes were fully exposed in back. Colorful do-rags, thick cable socks and black army boots completed their attire. On the floor, workout buddies Private Dan Gunst and Private Steve Waring were spotting each other through a sixth set of murderous curls. 24, 6'-10", 375 pounds, blond, huge, sporting a severe crew cut, and with a big nose and oversized hands, Gunst was a decidedly homely muscle giant, packed with imposing hardcore brawn. His bullish traps sloped massively from his 24” neck. The man’s 27-3/4 inch biceps were second only in girth and mass to Sgt. Moster’s, though he hadn’t yet attained the shapely cannonball peaks of Corporals Schumacher, Obatu, Blankenship and Alvarez. At 3.8% bodyfat he tended towards a thin coat of luminous bloat in his 375-pound physique; he was all the same, super-humanly powerful, and during his training sessions the bloat seemed to melt into a latticework of shrink-wrapped vascularity. His partner, the 26-year old Steve Waring, was uncommonly good-looking, if, at a mere 276 pounds of raw muscle, not nearly as big as Gunst. He was, however the far more ripped bodybuilder, having been in the program 2 years longer. His vascularity was astonishing, a complex map of thick, dizzying, zig-zag veins that criss-crossed his magnificent physique. Square-jawed, dimpled and brown-eyed, he always had a neatly groomed 2-day beard. As expected for a leaner man, Waring’s particular beauty lay in his batwing lat spread and chiseled abs, which tapered radically into a mere 29” waist. Cobbled, veiny abs lead down to his fearsome bulge. Now Waring was up. He tied on a pair of dirty wristbands and cinched them tightly, licked his lips, approached the 160-pound weight, and looked up at Gunst with a half smile. “What’re you waitin’ for? C’mon, get moving,” said Gunst impatiently. “It’s my third set.” “I know. C’mon, man, you’re stalling.” “You know what I want.” Waring winked and grinned, and his dimples broadened deeply. Gunst rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Jesus. You and your third set mantras.” He leaned into Waring, cupped his palm, and roughly took the jock pouch bearing his partner’s heavy balls into his calloused hand. He flicked Waring’s leathery testicles with his thick thumb and with strong fingers stroked the curling cock shaft tucked into the jock. Waring closed his eyes and exploded breath. Gunst fondled the cock, feeling where the 11” flaccid shaft coiled into a sagging downward-pointing firehose U-shape. His own cock began to stiffen as the pouch bearing Waring’s junk began to expand under his touch. He gave a last thumb flick and stepped back. “Yeah!” shouted Waring, and he squatted, grabbed the weight, stood, and reeled off 15 perfectly executed curls. The veins in his biceps expanded and contracted powerfully, eddying currents of blood in a river of muscle. 40 feet away at the incline bench press, Privates Aja Jin, Reed Bogarde and Derek Washington were taking turns doing dumbbell flyes with 125 pound weights. Ginger-haired Bogarde was up, while black muscle giant Private Washington spotted him, and the Asian Private Jin muttered hyper-masculine, mono-syllabic bon mots of encouragement. "C'mon. Get big. Get huge. C'mon man. Push. We're right here." The three heavyweights were generally together. If they weren’t closely supervised, they’d spend more time than absolutely necessary on pec workouts. A year before they had petitioned Moster to be allowed to wear their prized brass chained nipple clamps during their training. Moster had refused at first, but after they appealed to Dr. Zaftig, he finally relented. “The pain inspires them,” Zaftig told him. Moster had to agree that this one time, he had been wrong to withhold his approval. And once again, it was good for morale. The chain to Bogarde’s clamps was draped over the t-shirt and lay across his mammoth, boyishly freckled pecs. He’d completed 11 reps seamlessly, but was now pausing, his arms open wide, the dumbbells held aloft. “Do, it, man,” he growled, and as Moster watched, Private Jin reached over and with gentle, adroit firmness, tugged slightly on the chain. Bogarde’s face contorted with pain. "Push, asswipe!" screamed Jin. Bogarde completed the set. “Thanks, buddy,” he breathed, as he slammed the weights to the floor and sat up. “Privates!” Moster called out. “Remember I want to see you remove those clamps every 10 minutes for an exact period of 20 more minutes!” “Yes, sir,” said Washington, about to take his seat on the bench for his set. “By my watch, it has been more than 11 minutes. Those clamps come off. Now.” “Shit,” muttered Washington, but he duly turned to Private Jin. “Take care of this for me, and I’ll do for you.” “Okay,” said Jin. He lifted Washington’s t-shirt, and gently unscrewed the clamp on the left nipple. Instantly Washington’s face contorted with pain. Jin leaned in and tenderly licked the swelling brown nipple with his tongue for a few moments. Washington nodded, and Jin repeated it for the right nipple. “I’m good,” he said. Jin lifted his shirt and Washington returned the favor, caressing Jin’s nipples with his tongue as he removed each biting clamp. “Hey, what about me?” Bogarde grinned, slipping off his t-shirt. His large nipples pointed heavily downward, with lusciously round, perfect aureoles. He pumped his 58” ripped chest fully, fists at his side, and stood smiling expectantly as his two muscle buddies moved into his side, their heads to Bogarde’s chest, each manning a clamped nipple. For Private Bogarde, the only good thing about the unclamping was the minute of stimulation he received from his buddies to keep the excruciating pain he so adored from making him instantly cum into his overstuffed jockstrap. Once he came, his partners knew the chest workout would be effectively derailed for a good 15 minutes, and so to prevent such time wasting, both men were inclined to be extra attentive. Over time, they developed a routine. Together the two bodybuilders carefully unscrewed the clamps, and swiftly leaned in to kiss, lick, bite, stroke, and caress Bogarde’s freed, erect nipples. Bogarde moaned, his eyes rolling to the ceiling, his cock now swelling threateningly in his jockstrap. “Shit,” he moaned, and his buddies glanced down at the straining pouch. His mushroom-round penis head poked heavily over the top and began to climb up his abs. Jin and Washington knew that he might shoot his load at any moment. The two double-timed their nipple licks. After a minute, their tender administrations allowed him to regain control. He nodded – he was okay – and they backed away. Satisfied, Bogarde pumped his pecs to their fullest size and inspected them both closely, nodding with serious, unsmiling self-approval. Wet with spit, his stiffened nipples bloomed. “Freaky,” he breathed. His buddies nodded. “Awesome pecs,” said Jin. “Awesome.” Bogarde stuffed his receding cock back into his jock, and winked at Moster. Moster watched. When it was clear Private Bogarde was past danger, he called out again. “Back to your work. You have twenty more minutes before you can put those damn clamps on again.” The men nodded dutifully. Washington sat, grabbed a dumbbell in each hand, hoisted them to his knees, leaned back, and effortlessly pushed them both to the ceiling. His chest expanded mightily. Bogarde shouted the count. “1! 2! 3!” Jin spotted, his powerful hands lightly meeting Washington’s elbows with each rep. For a moment, Bogarde fondled his smarting nipples tenderly. He caught Moster’s stern eye and, still counting Washington’s reps, nodded sheepishly and slipped back into his sopping t-shirt. Corporals Rene LeFevre, Tony Chad and Private Chris Hension were supersetting between bent-over single-arm rows and military presses. The massively muscled corporals, both in their mid-30’s, were the compound practical jokers. Their perfect foil was the slightly dopey 22-year old, 260-pound superheavyweight Private Hension, a square-jawed, curly-haired, dreamily handsome inductee who had only been admitted into the ranks of The Nineteen from the cadet squad six months before. Hension's face was so unusually beautiful that he was catnip for all who gazed upon him. With his deep blue eyes, perfectly square jaw, high cheekbones, imposing Roman nose, thick eyebrows, short curly black hair, powerful young physique and endearing, gap-toothed smile, he looked like a hyper muscular refugee from some crazy TigerBeat boy band. Teen muscles personified, and unusually huge, though he was 3 years past his teens already. His hazing was not quite over. Tonight he was burning from the red-hot chili powder LeFevre and Chad had worked into the folds of his jockstrap. Early in the workout he had waddled with his bodybuilder’s muscle-laden stride over to the 50-gallon water cooler, pulled down his jock, and poured a quart of refreshingly cold water onto his stinging red shaft. Every ten minutes he had to return to the cooler as his P-21 enhanced, ever-growing penis began burning anew. He couldn’t figure it out and was embarrassed. The fabric of his jock was now transparent with wetness, and the crimson outlines of his snake-coiled penis could be seen glowing painfully. LeFevre and Chad hid their grins innocently as a baffled Hension trudged back towards them, his fingers gently probing and rearranging his drooping big package for maximum comfort. “Something the matter, Private?” asked LeFevre. Hension nodded. “My junk hurts,” he said. He still wasn’t entirely used to the newly achieved girth of his organ. “And it itches.” “You keepin’ it clean?” “Sure.” He stuck his hand in his jock. “It’s getting too big. It don’t fit in these jocks.” “How big?” LeFevre winked at Chad. “I ain’t measured.” “Really?” “You lie.” “Okay, it’s past 10 inches now.” “About the medium point, then.” “You’re probably jerkin’ off too much.” “All that new size. Kinda hot, right?” “Gotta wipe all that jism off after you shoot, son.” “I keep it clean,” Hension protested. “Okay,” said Chad. “We can take of that later for you.” “Thanks,” said Hension, and then he noted the wicked gleam in Chad’s eyes. “Oh, you assholes,” he whined. “What did you do?” His buddies began to roar. Furious, Hension grabbed a 200-pound dumbbell and flew through a set of punishing one arm bent-over rows. His wide back roiled with shifting mountains of muscle, and as he jerked and lifted, his damp wife-beater gradually crept up to reveal his hardened, vulnerable butt, pumping up and down, undulating with each rep. A red handprint from a private discipline session with Sergeant Moster the night before still glowed on the right buttcheek. And the men laughed even harder. “You got it coming and going!” said LeFevre. Hension slammed the weight into the mat, turned abruptly and placed his big hands protectively against his ass. Then he grinned. “Yeah, yeah, it’s funny, so go laugh!” Inside his jock, his stinging member twitched. Private Hension liked humiliation. In fact, there was nothing he liked better, and both Chad and LeFevre were onto it. As far as they were concerned, the handsome Private’s hazing would continue indefinitely. Just two weeks before, Corporal Chad had hacked into Hension’s private PC and found links to dominatrix S&M websites on Hension’s private PC, with cum-stained downloaded jpegs and pngs of leather-clad, spike-heeled mistresses, face-slapping hapless, undersized men. Mixed in with the images were pictures of a huge muscleman tied up with ropes and chains, a rubber ball in his mouth and an enormous butt plug shoved up his anus. Hension’s private fantasy – and he was a little embarrassed about it, which was only good manners – was to get his face slapped, viciously and unrelentingly, by beautiful, affronted, enraged women. He dreamed of being caught sucking Alvarez’s massive cock, and being interrupted, and hauled to his feet by a beautiful blonde mistress of discipline, who would slap his handsome face repeatedly, leaving welting, bright red, stinging handprints on his clean-shaven cheeks. His head would whip from left to right, from right to left, under her powerful bitch slaps. Happy tears would roll down his face onto his stinging cheeks. “Aw, baby…” he’d cry, pretending to be in pain. “Don’t slap me!” And his mighty cock would also whip from side to side. “You deserve to get your face slapped, you filthy muscle slut!” SLAP. And meanwhile, Alvarez would drop to his knees and lovingly administer skillful oral to his massive cock. This dream of slapping punishment from angry mistresses filled his nightly jerk off fantasies. Chad printed up a few and privately slipped them to LeFevre, who laughed devilishly. “Someone’s been in my room playing with my computer,” Hension complained that night at dinner. The two feigned innocence. “Why, how can you tell?” asked Chad innocently. “Because the asswipe left it on.” “That might have been you.” “Nope. The asswipe left it on at a website I like. I would never do that.” The men roared. Hension pouted. “Don’t worry, baby face. Maybe some day soon on a field trip, we can set up a surprise for you, now that we know what you like.” Hension brightened. “Really?” he asked hopefully. “We’ll see if you’re a good boy. Why don’t you come by for some posing practice tonight?” “O—okay,” he said, shooting a furtive look at Corporal Alvarez and Private Lang, quietly sharing a table on the other side of the dining room. Chad caught it and for an instant was jealous. He knew Hension longed to be a part of Alvarez and Lang’s notorious “Pose and Approve” nightly sessions. Private Robert Lang was a younger version face and body look-alike for his buddy, Corporal Julio Alvarez. The same exact height, the two bodybuilders kept their bodies shaved, and might easily have been mistaken for one another at a distance, if it weren’t for Alvarez’s neatly trimmed mustache. Alvarez also boasted the same brutal muscles, the same sweep to his triceps, the same broad back, and the same peerless baseball biceps. Older, wiser, and a touch serene about his muscles, he and Lang were like brothers. Brothers, however, they weren’t, and they exhibited no instinctive physical filial reticence with one another. Lang, standing 5’ – 10” and weighing in at 285 pounds, was dark, serious, extraordinarily handsome, and brutally built. Secretly unsure of himself, he sought approval whenever he could, a little mortified by the beauty of his face. He had pronounced horseshoe triceps of uncommonly full sweep, an impressively broad back, and, as Alvarez noted, a beautifully rounded muscle bubblebutt graced with an almost horizontal butt shelf. To help bolster Lang’s flagging self-confidence, Alvarez – without question the alpha dog of this pairing, even as he was the slightly bigger muscleman - developed a ritual he called “Pose and Approve.” At first, it developed quite naturally. Over time, it had evolved into mutual muscle worship. Alvarez’s judgment and approval of Lang’s muscles were his drug of choice, next to P21, that is, and his own brutally punishing workouts. They started out privately in Alvarez’s room. From the first night, he was ready. An 8’-0” x 10’-0” lit posing dais dominated the back bedroom in his quarters. “Built it myself,” he said quietly as Lang stared at the polished wood surface. When did he find the time, Lang wondered. Alvarez carefully adjusted the cool LED lights. Lang watched eagerly, stripping down to tight posers straining under the weight of his throbbing, veiny penis. Alvarez took his sweet time setting lights and atmosphere. Lang watched, shoving his hand into his sagging pouch and absently manipulating his big tool to half erection. When he judged all was ready, he’d step back. “Okay. Get to work,” he said. Eagerly Lang jumped onstage and hit a front double biceps. Alvarez nodded his approval of his buddy’s muscles. “Nice. Big old cannonballs. Show me more.” Another pose. This time a side chest. Lang’s pecs pounded and seemed to reach the ceiling. His heavy nipples were already taut. “How do I look?” Lang asked nervously. “Looking all right,” Alvarez said casually. “Lights need adjusting.” He half turned away as if to check the wiring. This prompted Lang into frenzy, and he began whipping out pose after pose. “The lights are fucking fine! I’m smokin’!” he cried. “Look at me, Alvarez! Check out my muscles! I’m fucking huge!!!!” Alvarez smiled. “Okay, big man,” he said. “I see. I see what you need.” And casually bending in, he took Lang’s by-now rock hard penis into his mouth and lolled it about gently. Inside, his tongue stroked the long, thick shaft, working its way up and down the veins. “It’s your reward for your perfectly developed muscles.” Lang was in heaven. Then they switched. Alvarez stepped up and surpassed his buddy’s posing performance. As he flexed, Lang sank gratefully to his knees to admire his musclegod buddy. Alvarez hit a pose - wham! - and Lang would greedily slurp on his gigantic rod. "Boom," purred Alvarez. "Big biceps, baby." "Twenty fiiiii---vvve inches...." "Bullshit." "Twenty-five baby. Feel 'em. Suck my cock." "You got it. Sucking now, man." They went back and forth for hours. Flexing biceps, smacking roiling quads, pec dancing, sucking each other's cocks. After a few sessions, Lang developed a surprisingly insatiable taste for Alvarez's stunningly perfect glutes, and sometimes lost himself rimming the man's rosebud butthole while Alvarez posed, legs spread wide, gazing at himself thoughtfully in the wall-length mirror across the room from the dais. Whenever Lang's face was buried deeply in the bigger man's butt, Alvarez found his creative posing juices to be inspired, and he was able to flex for hours without getting tired. Over time, they worked out new routines this way. Of course, Alvarez and Lang had long since taken “Pose and Approve” into more stratospheric, not to mention more public, levels of performance during the last year. The men liked to watch, and occasionally were invited to join in. For more than a year now, the men all knew that Lang slipped whenever he could into Alvarez’s room late at night for an hour of nearly silent shared posing routines and powerful rounds of cocksucking. At the end of their private sessions, each man could be heard roaring in the compound’s corridors as he spurted a mighty ejaculation inside his buddy’s mouth, onto his abs, or inside his yielding bubble butt. Just a week before, when a confidence-challenged Lang was standing in front of the corner mirrors after general workout, trying vainly to figure out a new routine, coach Alvarez decided to take it public. After all, all the men knew. And were curious. And were watching. Eagerly. Even Karim bothered to look up from his own fascination with his flexing biceps. Alvarez directed Lang from pose to pose, nodding. He ran his fingers smoothly over his body. Then he dropped quickly to his knees, stripped off his jockstrap, took his cock into his mouth, and continued to direct him from there. “Bring your right arm up a little. Now tilt your head. Look up. Pretend you see something,” garbled Alvarez, his mouth full of Lang’s cock. “What am I looking at?” asked Lang, a little anxious. “Clouds. You see clouds. Good. More clouds. Right. Here’s your reward.” Alvarez licked his cock hard for a minute. “It’s like he’s licking an ice cream cone,” said Hension. “An ice cream cone with veins,” said Blankenship. Washington stared, grinning. Lang colored slightly. In his jock, his heavy penis head began to expand and push against the thick fabric. “Yo, bodybuilders deserve to get their cocks sucked while they’re posing,” Lang said dreamily, flexing. “I’m down with it,” said Washington. “You can suck mine next.” And Lang did. Alvarez sucked Lang’s dick approvingly, licking the thick shaft lovingly. Then he pulled back to allow Lang to pivot to the next pose. Lang crunched into a most muscular, Alvarez nodded again with serious respect, and sucked him as his reward, as his buddy held a crab shot for 60 full seconds. They moved as one: pivot, flex, a nod of approval, a minute of cocksucking, withdrawal, pivot, flex, another nod, another minute of cocksucking. Absorbed by their mutual passion of posing together, the two silently went into matching, impromptu routines, flexing their powerful guns in unison as if choreographed, slapping their quads, turning to flair their lats, all the while staring appreciatively, each transfixed by the other. And the men stared, too. Soon all they all joined in. The workout was effectively over. Cocks filled mouths for the next hour. Rough, calloused hands appreciatively patted and stroked flexed biceps. Pecs danced. Tongues licked sand dollar sized, downward pointing nipples. Moster was not pleased. Nevertheless, he waited until the last groans had finished, and the last drops of the quarts of ejaculated bodybuilder cum had burst from throbbing cocks down eager throats. "Are we finished?" he asked quietly. The men lined up, sheepish, all with dripping cocks and cum flecks on their lips. Hension's face, inevitably, was covered. "It got into my eyes," he complained. Smack! "Owwwww!" he yelled. Moster waited, and then spoke quietly. “There’s a time and a place for everything,” he barked, all sheepish and spent, wiping the cum from their lips and bodies. After that, Moster determined to keep Lang and Alvarez separated on the floor as much as possible, for the two men were so – was ‘inspired’ the word? – attuned to one another’s powerful physiques that the Sergeant had determined it would be more efficient for all if they trained apart. It always led to “Pose and Approve,” behavior that Moster determined was more efficiently left to the locker room and showers. “Pose and Approve” was all very well for private time, but on the gym floor the men had been known in the past to become hypnotized by one another’s muscles. On rest days, of course, Moster kept them completely separated. That was an order. These days, the two grudgingly but unquestioningly yielded to their CO’s command. Once, Moster had caught them together outside on a bike path on a prescribed rest day, both naked, erect, and posing feverishly. He watched silently for a few moments, waiting for the inevitable moment when Lang sank to his knees and greedily gathered Alvarez’s cock in his mouth. “Gentlemen!” he boomed, striding forward onto the path. “Today is a rest day!” He swung mightily, he clipped the surprised Alvarez right on the jaw. The punch felled the muscleman immediately. Even the usually arrogant Alvarez was a mere beta puppy before the 7’-0” Moster. “In my quarters! Now!” Ten minutes later a cowed Alvarez was stretched over Moster’s powerful knee, receiving a serious butt paddling. Lang stood by nervously, knowing he was next. “You’re like two bad boys,” he said gruffly as he spanked Alvarez’s perfectly rounded buttocks. Neither man protested, each watching the other meekly as he received punishment from the implacable giant Moster. The loud spanks were heard echoing down the hall for 40 minutes. The men sat in the mess and listened to the spanks and howls. “No one crosses Moster,” Schumacher said airily, to no one in particular. The distant sound of spanks bounced off the walls. Perfect musclebutts were receiving perfect punishment. “Gee, what did they do?” asked a fearful Hension. “Someday you’ll find out,” said LeFevre darkly. He winked at Chad. Later, they emerged sheepishly from Moster’s quarters, red-faced and gingerly rubbing their painfully reddened glutes. The two were barred from contact of any kind for three weeks. Moreover, the enforced temporary change in the training schedule upset all of the men, who privately handled the transgression in their own manner. There was a strict code of punishments the men had privately devised and agreed upon over the years, and when training violations occurred, the offender was subject to the discipline of the group, most often provided by a steely-eyed Corporate Karim Abdul. The night after their ordeal with Moster, Abdul and Gunst visited the men in their quarters. The men each stood meekly, as Karim punched their faces with cool precision. Then he spanked them both, followed by Gunst’s stern force-feeding of his cock. Then, for good measure, both men thoroughly fucked their butts. The next morning at chow, each man sported two black eyes. Their flanks ached, and closer inspection revealed that sitting was painful for more reasons than were immediately apparent. “Dudes, what happened to you?” shouted Chad across the mess hall. “Shut the fuck up,” grumbled Alvarez. “Report to the infirmary,” said Moster. “Sergeant, begging your pardon, we’re fine.” “As you prefer, Privates.” “Abdul stretched the shit out of my asshole last night,” Lang complained quietly to Alvarez. “Me too,” Alvarez asked. Silence. Then they both laughed quietly. “Was it worth it?” asked Alavrez. “Fuck yeah,” said Lang. Nevertheless, the men grudgingly acknowledged privately it was their due desserts. After that, Lang and Alvarez obeyed orders, and it didn’t happen again. Their eyes healed quickly and though they remained separated at night, soon they were back on the gym floor the same day Moster suspended their sentence. “No sense in losing perfectly good training time for those two. They’ve learned their lesson,” Moster said to Zaftig, who was always puzzled by the developing social rules within his own lab rats. Three weeks passed, and the night they were finally reunited, Moster smiled privately to himself in his quarters as the excited groans of the two reunited men echoed down the corridors long after hours. The next morning, far from being tired, they appeared at 0700 hours breakfast as if entirely rejuvenated. The other men looked a little weary, having been kept awake all night, but all were in grudging good humor now that the two muscle buddies were together again. Backs were slapped and good-natured jibes taken with grinning good grace. “Have fun last night, Lang?” teased Obatu. “Yep,” said Lang, his mouth full of eggs. “Alvarez get any bigger in the last three weeks?” “He sure did,” Lang nodded seriously, chewing and swallowing. The men guffawed, and Alvarez smacked Lang playfully on the back of the head with a giant paw. “What’d I say?” asked Lang, perplexed, and the men laughed harder. Across the table, Karim never looked up. Faggots, he thought. Still, his cock twitched in his jock. He had liked punching the handsome faces of both Alvarez and Lang, though he didn’t want to admit it, and the crisply delivered black eyes he had administered had made it all even more exciting. And the fucking was fun, too. Moster was satisfied. All in all, it was good for the team. Good for morale. Chapter 8: Tiffany’s Talent Karim was in the corner, working out on the punching bag. His buddies, if the taciturn Lebanese from Michigan could have said to have “buddies”, Privates Duncan and McIntyre, were alternating between bench wrist curls and neck-strengthening dumbbell lifts. The rhythmic volley of Karim’s rapid punches filled the air. Abdul Karim was, at his most social, on the taciturn side. At 6’-3”, 275 pounds, and less than 2% bodyfat, Karim had a beard and mustache that he kept meticulously groomed at all times. He had the Arab’s big nose, dark skin, and, except for his back and shoulders, a full body armor of tight, black curly hair. His muscular chest was black with fur, with two deep red-brown nipples poking through. His quads were oak trees. His bullish biceps, covered with bright tattoos, were stacked and wired for maximum damage. His fists were huge and calloused. Karim was an extreme fighter of the first order; calm, methodical, practiced, powerful, relentless and merciless. Zaftig had plucked him from the State Penitentiary of Washington about four years earlier. He was in for manslaughter, having beaten to death a suspected serial rapist in Seattle; the trial transcripts stated that he had simply held the dude aloft by his collar and repeatedly punched the guy in the face until he grew bored. Inside, it was said, he had beaten to bloody pulps 5 inmates who had jumped him one night in the shower with sharpened shivs and the intent to kill. How Zaftig got him out was still a mystery to Moster, but, as his CO was bigger and possibly even a hair stronger, Karim silently respected him without grudge or attitude, and there was no real breach of discipline. Still, it was tough to pair him off in extreme fighting matches in the compound, although Corporal Schumacher was a close match. Annoyingly, if understandably, both Chad and LeFevre were careful to keep the beautiful young Private Hension away from Karim. Secretly protective of their young initiate, they didn’t take any chance that the longingly masochistic Hension might approach Karim, and get a lot more than he bargained for. Karim, for his part, wasn’t particularly interested in Hension. For him, a hole was a hole was a hole, and as for getting his cock sucked, he preferred women to do the job, as long as they shut up about it. Oddly, he didn’t seem to mind if effeminate boys took care of his meat, if no pussy was available. A bitch was a bitch was a bitch, though he took care to show basic respect for being serviced (even if, of course, it was his due). He did, however, like piss. Karim liked to be pissed upon, and he liked to piss on others. He marked his territory. He especially liked it when big boy Gunst pissed on him. After all, he respected the man. He didn’t consider it a sexual fantasy. To Karim, piss was just the right expression of muscle and power. Late at night, he sometimes came to the workout room alone and worked on the heavy bag. On those nights, he made sure that the kitchen boy, Pedro, was standing by. A slender 16-year old kid, barely 130 pounds, and a sweet-natured homey if ever there was one, Pedro would wait patiently in a darkened corner until Karim summoned him to approach, get on his knees, and suck his unusually hairy cock while he worked the light bag. The boy loved hair and muscles, and Karim’s big veiny tool got an appreciative coating between his lips. Karim would grunt, shoot, coat the boy’s face with globs of semen, pat him affectionately on the butt, and head off to bed without washing off. The boy scampered into the kitchen to start breakfast for the men, happy to have been of service. Good-natured Privates Bill McIntyre and David Duncan were often buffer zones for the brooding Corporal Karim. Calm and circumspect, like Karim they too were hairy big boys who preferred the ladies, albeit always in groups with the Lebanese. Moster occasionally arranged for private liaisons for the three bodybuilders with three high-priced, Amazonian professional girls flown in from Las Vegas. The men fucked their women vigorously, always with their eyes on one another. After they finished up and the ladies had departed, Karim often polished off the night fucking his buddies’ shapely muscle butts, alternating between them. It took a lot to satisfy Karim, who could fuck all night, and sometimes Moster was hastily summoned to make sure the session ended. He often brought Gunst with him to break up the party, for Karim liked nothing better than to finally cum while Gunst pissed in his face. “Feels good,” he would grunt as Gunst’s firehose cock shot streams of piss on his muscles, while McIntyre and Duncan stood by smiling, gently fingering their reddened, aching buttholes. Karim would work his cock fiercely with his powerful fist, quickly spurting buckets of semen onto his hairy abs, and, as always, trudge off silently to bed without washing or saying good night. Gunst would then get the privilege of sucking Moster’s giant cock while McIntyre and Duncan watched respectfully, stroking their own cocks. Sessions would end with each bodybuilder shooting his cum into Gunst’s mouth. Gunst could swallow volumes of cum. “Makes me bigger,” he’d say. The big boy preferred monster penis, and liked it best with other musclemen standing by watching. So it worked for everyone. Beyond them, Corporals Schumacher, Obatu, and Blankenship were besting each other in sets of deep squat deadlifts. A 42-year old muscle veteran with tattoos, steel-wool skin, acne scars, an explosively powerful physique dense with vascularity, and all honed by nearly 30 years of raw, intense training, Herman Schumacher was the current king of this group, with his wide-oval, pronouncedly roiling, round hamstrings of pure power protruding far behind him. His broad, solid, rounded manbutt rolled above his hams, meeting into a firm, deep butt crack. His calves were split into two deep and distinct diamond-like heads. Schumacher had no-nonsense iron-grey hair and was generally scowling. He knew all who saw him wanted to fuck his mighty butt. Secretly, he was happiest when either fucking – or being fucked. His formidable, muscular, hairy glutes demanded attention. He was loath, however, to acknowledge his fantasy top. Rarely fucked by the other men, and always only after extreme begging and some act of subservience, Herman Schumacher had some private fantasies of his own, involving heavy rope and buttplugs, that one day he hoped he’d have the courage to investigate. For now, the opinions of the other men were still too gravely important to him. He wasn’t ready to betray himself. Not yet. In the mean time, it was generally understood that Schumacher’s powerful tool was always at the ready to plow a tasty ass. Just out of his hearing, the other men all agreed - and even Karim - they craved his particular kind of butt fucking. It seemed he could always find the g-spot, and he quietly provided hours of late night pleasure for those men who had just finished a grueling squat workout, and whose eager buttholes needed relief. Obatu chose to shave his head bald, had shiny black skin, and like Schumacher and Karim, nearly always had a fearsome scowl on his face. His glory were his bull-like traps and his mammoth pecs, which at 66”circumference approached Moster’s own in size, shredded cuts, and separations. His fearsomely large genitalia had a habit of rolling out of his jockstrap during training, and he’d absent-mindedly scoop his balls and cock back into place, often pausing unconsciously for a quick couple of strokes on the extra-long, heavy shaft and a quick flick of his thick thumb on the bell-shaped cockhead. Then he’d lift and adjust the heavy pouch and resume his powerful lifts. On white cap nights, however, he often didn’t bother to repouch. Blankenship, younger than both and only recently having attained the rank of Corporal, didn’t have the ripped density of Schumacher nor the sheer mass of Obatu, boasting instead superb genetics and beautifully honed symmetry. Good-humored and outgoing, the roman-nosed young Blankenship favored classical Greek poses in his routines, and he often showed off his alluring lines with his muscular arms held overhead. He was a statue come to life – and he knew it. Shouting encouragement and taunts at one another, Schumacher completed another grueling set of 25 reps with 400 pounds. On the last rep, he strained to replace the weight on the floor with disciplined quiet, in control of the weight to the very last. Then he blew out a mouthful of spit, shook his head violently so that his sweat flew everywhere, and straightened up. Blankenship planted a solid smack on his naked butt. “Nice!” he yelled. Schumacher smiled wearily and nodded. Then he turned and glanced across the room to see if Private Joe Tiffany had been watching his set. Tiffany was working triceps and delts with Private Robert Lang. Alvarez was at the squat rack, training legs with Private Eli Meyer. The good-looking All-American Jewish Meyer was the shortest man in the squad, standing only 5’- 3”, and sadly, a mute. He was a highly developed, talented gymnast, double-jointed nearly everywhere and was astonishingly supple for a little muscleman. He easily contorted his 210-pound body into positions the other men could only dream of. He favored the relatively simple – for him – pose of planting his rippling arms on the floor and swinging his legs sky-high behind them, tilting his pelvis forward past his elbows and holding steady for long periods of time. The pose was catnip for the squad, who, after hours in the compound rec room, loved to more closely inspect Meyer’s proudly displayed hairless, supple pink butthole, which he playfully puckered in and out for them at will. Meyer would smile hugely and nod encouragement, his eyes sparkling with mischief, as the excited men scrambled to their knees and took turns playfully licking and probing his asshole. Alvarez enjoyed a lick as much as the other men, but he always noted Lang’s slightly hurt gaze and promptly retreat with his buddy for some private posing. For his part, however, Alvarez had no issue when Lang, occasionally overcome himself, dipped his handsome face into Meyer’s butt for a taste of honey. Afterwards, Alvarez noted, he would pose harder than ever. For Tiffany was trouble. Alvarez noted that Tiffany was studiously ignoring Corporal Schumacher’s impressive set of deadlifts. Lang, almost as dim as Hension, hadn’t seemed to notice. But then, Lang hadn’t learned yet that he shouldn’t trust Joe Tiffany. Joe Tiffany was 19. He was gap-toothed, dark-haired, freckled, had slightly big ears, and looked a little goofy. He was bow-legged, weighed 235 pounds, and had almost no bodyfat at all – and what little there was lay sweetly atop what Herman Schumacher imagined was probably the most beautiful butt on the planet. On the day of his arrival into the Project facility just a little less than a year ago, Obatu had nicknamed him ‘Huck Finn’. The name stuck, and over time morphed into ‘Fuck Him.’ No one had, though, as of yet. Not privately, anyway. Tiffany was smart. He looked dumb and played the innocent, but he was canny, shrewd, and manipulative. He also had an unusual talent, which he had privately shared with the curious Sergeant Moster not long after his arrival. It was not unlike perfect pitch: Tiffany could take astonishingly accurate size measurements – orally. Moreover, he had no gag reflex. It appeared that he could take anything. Any cock. To its full length. Even Moster’s. Moster had found out quite by accident – or so he thought. In the showers alone one night, the black muscle giant was lathering up his armpits when he turned and discovered the Private staring at him from the doorway into the locker room. “You’re here late, Private.” “I forgot my jockstrap.” “Better get it and head to bed. Training tomorrow at 0700 hours.” Tiffany held his jock up silently. He waited. Moster stopped lathering and returned his look. “Is there something I can do for you, Private?” he demanded. Tiffany said nothing but gazed straight at Moster’s gargantuan, swaying dick. “Private?” Moster stepped forward. Tiffany didn’t move. “Sir?” He gazed unblinkingly at the cock. Moster glared. “Well?” Tiffany looked up and came to attention. “Sir, I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “But that is the biggest dick I have ever seen in my life, sir.” “It is unlikely you have seen a bigger one.” “I’m guessing no one has, sir.” “No, probably not. Just how big do you think it is?” “Sir, if you will forgive the indulgence, sir, but I believe I could tell you, sir, and quite accurately, too.” Moster had already heard about Tiffany’s after-hours mess hall boasts. Now was the chance to see if the boy had the stuff. “On your knees, then, Private.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany stepped forward in the shower, got to his knees and opened his mouth. He held still. Water poured from the spigot and in an instant, Tiffany’s t-shirt was wringing wet and bulging with his tight teen muscles. He looked up expectantly at Moster. He was calm. “Doesn’t look like anything I can’t handle, sir.” Annoyed at the Tiffany’s arrogance for a flashing moment, Moster slapped his swaying, dripping cock fiercely three or four times. It blew into an engorged 20-inch-plus vein-pulsing snake inside of 5 seconds. Water from the shower splashed onto it and ricocheted off the walls. “All right then. You’ll have to open up much wider than that.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany opened his mouth as wide as he could. Moster strode forward, grabbed the back of the young Private’s head, and forced his face onto his cock. Amazingly, Tiffany’s lips easily enveloped the enormous head, then the shaft, and slid down until Tiffany’s nose was pressed against Moster’s body. Somewhere inside, Moster’s giant shaft had disappeared deeply down Tiffany’s throat and into his upper body. Yet the muscleboy didn’t gag. Instead, he looked up and smiled, his mouth full of black bodybuilder cock. He held still a full minute, as Moster’s cock throbbed inside him. Then he slowly pulled his head back. “18 and 5/8s inches, sir. 8 pounds, three ounces. You weigh 396 pounds tonight, sir, your body temperature is 97 degrees, and your blood pressure is 120/85.” He smiled serenely. Damn, thought Moster. He’s right on target. There was just no telling where P21 protocols could lead, and what talents it might unearth. He nodded, satisfied, and then plunged his cock deeply back in and out of Tiffany’s mouth. In spite of its huge girth, Tiffany bowed and obediently went to work. As Moster pumped his hips rhythmically and Tiffany sucked mammoth cock, the sergeant’s mind drifted towards the men. Hmmmm, he thought. He was deeply in thought, automatically flexing his muscles and yet barely paying any attention to the efficient, powerful, machine-like sucks of Private Tiffany. Finally he began to shoot rivers of cum into the teen’s mouth. After a minute or two of shooting, he withdrew his cock and coated Tiffany’s face evenly with the last blasts of semen. Tiffany licked and took in as much as his tongue could reach, and then he stood, at attention once again. His cute face was covered with clouds of thick cum, which dripped down in thick globs onto his body under the spray of the shower. He saluted again, and wiped his mouth so he could speak clearly. “I hope that was satisfactory, sir?” “It was.” He didn’t appear to be injured in any way, at which Moster privately marveled. He turned away and began soaping the blobs of cum off his cock shaft. “You’re aware that sucking your CO’s cock is a privilege awarded rarely to men of your rank.” “Yes, sir. I know, sir.” “You will report to my private exam room tomorrow about an hour into the evening session. I’ll let you know when.” “Thank you, sir. It was a pleasure, sir.” He started out of the shower room, and turned, adding, “By the way, sir, your cum tastes a little like banana. I love banana.” He saluted again, and was gone. “Fresh punk,” thought Moster, but he was pleased. Starting the next evening, Moster began to require that the priapic dimensions of each muscleman be included in his records, the information to be obtained in privately conducted sessions he personally oversaw with Private Tiffany on hand to take the strictest of measurements. As always, the sergeant immediately designed a standard ritual of procedure. Ordered one by one into the examination room off the gym floor, each bodybuilder entered singly, wearing a tight posing strap, and walked silently into the center of the room. Private Gunst was first. “Stand under the light,” Moster ordered quietly. The bodybuilder stepped onto a posing dais, and poised himself under a single focused spotlight shining from the ceiling. He awaited orders, hands at his sides. He wondered why Tiffany was present. Moster stood in half-light, fully covered in clean white sweats, as always. The silent Dr. Irving sat in a pin light in the distant corner, armed with a video camera and scribbling in a small pad. Tiffany, wearing the white regulation tight t-shirt and khakis, stepped forward from the shadows. “Let’s see what you got, man,” murmured Moster, and Gunst swung into a posing routine. The first pose was a side biceps pose with the muscleman leaving forward and rotating his back towards the sergeant, so that he might better appreciate the three distinct cannonball deltoids, the broad lat sweep, the baseball separations of the biceps head, the powerful shape of his obliques, the shapely, hard glutes, and the roiling hamstrings. It was a landscape of muscle, and the men all knew it was Moster’s preferred pose. Then Gunst straightened, reached toward the single spotlight, and slowly brought his arms down into his most powerful, sustained front double biceps pose. “26 inches, sir!” he shouted. He held it for about 30 seconds. “Looking good,” said Moster, slightly bored. A three-minute posing routine followed. There was no sound in the room apart from the rapid tapping of Dr. Irving’s pen, the hum from the spotlight, and the waves of air being sucked in and out of Gunst’s mouth as he glided smoothly from pose to pose. Front lats, pivot, side left chest, side left triceps, pivot, rear lat spread, rear double biceps, pivot, side right chest, side right triceps, pivot, left quad, shake, slap, flex, right quad, shake, slap, flex, overhead ab crunch, and finally a most muscular, crunching viciously into a vein-exploding crab shot. Then the bodybuilder stood still, waiting. Thick rivulets of sweat poured down his physique. “Okay. Front double biceps again, please.” Gunst flexed his mountainous peaks. “And hold it.” Gunst smiled and strained, eager to please his C.O. “All right, Tiffany,” Moster said quietly, “get to it.” “Yes, sir,” said Tiffany. He strode forward, and as Gunst stood steadily flexing the classic front double biceps, the shorter Tiffany gracefully reached forward, took hold of the elastic side straps of his thin mesh poser, pulled the pouch forward and down, and unveiled the muscleman’s flaccid, long, thick, imperial penis. Moster cracked a quick smile, noting that Gunst first looked startled….then curious…. and then aroused. The giant gazed down as the business-like Tiffany got to his knees, gently fixed his pretty lips on the man’s junk, closed his eyes a moment, plunged deeply, holding the instantaneously stiffening penis deeply in his throat for about 60 seconds. “Wow”….breathed Gunst. He continued to flex his biceps, but tears appeared in his suddenly glistening eyes, and his cheeks flushed deep crimson. Below, Tiffany held firm and steady, his moist lips gently enfolding the thickening penis, widening his jaw to allow the throbbing member to enlarge to its true, pounding, blood-filled girth, standing gradually as the man’s cock began to climb towards the ceiling. He appeared to be making some internal calculations. He allowed 30 seconds more to pass; then he lolled his tongue around the muscleman’s cockshaft, pulled back, dipped again to twice lick the bulbous cockhead, paused again, and then gently parted his lips and pulled back, smacking his lips happily. He wiped his mouth. Gunst stared at him. "Huge cock, man. Nice." Tiffany turned to Moster. That was all it took. Gunst promptly began to spurt ropes of milky cum into the air, which Tiffany deftly dodged. He announced his findings. “12 and three-quarters inches, sir, tip to base,” Tiffany announced with obvious pride. “As you see, he is uncircumcised. Foreskin is clean and about six inches around. Penis weight, five and one half pounds. Shaft circumference, eight inches. Head size, three and three quarters, sir. Two pronounced lateral veins.” Tiffany paused. “He weighs 325 pounds, sir, and at the moment, his blood pressure is 140/80.” He grinned. “It’s quite a penis. You should be proud, sir.” “Yeah, thanks.” Gunst was still shooting. Ropes of cum hit the walls. “Sorry, sir.” “That’s all, Private,” said Moster. “Dismissed.” Gunst, his dick still shooting volleys of cum, stepped off the platform, glanced with confusion at Tiffany, and walked slowly out of the room, his posers barely covering his throbbing cock, leaving a trail of cum as he went. “Tell Corporal Abdul to come in next,” Moster called after him. Gunst turned. “May I watch, sir?” Moster considered. “All right.” At the outset of the tests, Moster was immediately on hand with a tape measure and a blood pressure cuff to verify what he could. After awhile, he didn’t bother. Tiffany was always right. By the next morning, Moster had realized that Tiffany had deftly strategized the whole routine. He’d been punked, and by a newbie. It was as if Tiffany had foreseen Moster’s every move, and now, in record time, every man in Project Herculaneum was aware that Private Tiffany’s blowjobs were a vehicle to provide new particularized personal information being added to their charts. Moster was secretly amused at the teen’s cojones, but knew that he’d have to regain the upper hand again, and soon. Still, it wasn’t for him to break Tiffany personally. That would have made his displeasure too apparent. He began to look for opportunities for the cocky Tiffany to be bested by one of the men. A face punching by Karim would be too brutal. He considered other ways. Maybe in the wrestling ring. Yes. ******* Links to other 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

"This is so fuckin' hot, little man!" He shouted with his head tilted back. His massive arms worked his big cock up and down. "Fuck my abs dude! And lick my fuckin pecs or I'll crush you in there!" He was jerking faster and faster, "Awww, yea, little man. Fuck my abs, lick these pecs! Ahh!" His muscles tensed and my head felt like it was going to pop. "Little man, I'm--Ahh-I'm--I'M GUNNA GROW!" I could hear his huge pecs growing on both sides of my head. The heat coming from them was making me sweat. They were growing around my skull and any second I knew they would crush me. My cock was still submerged in his abs as my hands beat the underside of his pecs. There was nothing my scrawny body could do to escape and my muffled screams were going unheard. I could feel his abs elongating and grinding my dick between them. I was on the verge of passing out when suddenly a heave of Alex's giant pecs made me go flying off of him. I flew so far off the bed that I hit the wall straight across from him and slid down to the ground. I laid on the ground panting and falling in and out of consciousness. The room slowed from a whirlwind to a slow spin as I caught my breath staring up at the high ceiling. From across the room I could hear the bed creaking and then something must have snapped because it made a loud bang that made the room shake. I was so out of it that I just laid there staring up. Out of no where the deepest voice addressed me: "Little man....you okay?" It made my spine shiver because of how loud it was. I still didn't register what it could have been until I heard whatever it was start to sit up. Suddenly there floor shook with a BOOM. Then the entire house shook with another BOOM. The light was beginning to dim as the booms came closer. I could see the knick knacks on the low table above my head move towards the edge with each shake. BOOOM. BOOOOM. I could feel the heat. BOOOOOM. My entire body lifted off the floor a little with the last shake. I finally put the energy together to lift my head a few inches. BOOOOM. "Little man... you ok down there?" I've never seen anything so magnificent in my life. From laying flat on the floor there was a god above me. It was a given I could not see his face but his pecs must have jut out at least two feet. They were covered in veins and sat high like two big beachballs on his sternum. He must have understood what my silence meant from below because he once again parted his huge ballooning pecs and stared down at me through the deep cleft between and smiled then asked, "How's the view from down there?" "God-like," I whispered to myself. He must have not heard me with his newfound height. "What was that, little guy?" And with that, the two giant orbs starting falling fast towards me in an attempt to hear what I had mummbled out of pure awe. The second it took for the behemoth to get onto one knee felt like minutes as his huge chest was thrust into my vision above me. There was almost no light from the room in my view from beneath him. "I couldn't hear what you said. Do you like how I look now?" "I said you looked God-like from up there!" He was dying to please me. "Hahaha!" He laughed whole-heartedly, "I knew you'd like seeing me G-R-O-W!" As he said the last word he expanded his back and flexed his chest high and mighty. His face completely disappeared from view and I felt my eyes grow wide as the shadow extended over my body. I was sitting up against the wall across from the bed and his chest kept flexing until his pecs met the wall and flattened against it. I know if he wanted he could have smashed through the wall with a simple pop of of chest. I couldn't handle it anymore. "You're SO BIG!" I lusted and reached up to touch the underside of his massive man mountains. But just as I almost reached them he released his flex and rose up to his feet. "Yea, little man! And It's all yours!" He flexed his massive arms and bounced his bowling ball biceps around then spun around giving me a view of his rock hard ass cheeks as he stomped towards the door. "Get yourself together and meet me in the kitchen. Your big guy is hungry!" His foot steps shook the room with each step. I spent the next fifteen minutes laying in the same slumped spot in the corner of Alex's huge bedroom jerking my cock to everything I had just witnessed. I got myself together and grabbed my tight briefs and my white tank top that I wore under my shirt. I threw them on and walked over to the large mirror wall that covered his closet and peered into it. I put my arms up in a flex position and looked myself up and down. I was so small compared to this guy! I was only 125lbs and under 5'4 while this guy was over twice my height and God only knows how much he weighed. I put my arms down as the smell of food filled the room. It smelled like...a lot of things. I left the bedroom and walked down the hall. There were rooms everywhere and the ceilings were extremely high. I made my way passed a living room with a huge couch that looked like it could have fit 10 of me. I kept walking until the smell of food was almost smacking me in the face. I walked around the corner and saw Alex sitting at a huge oak table in one of the biggest kitchens I've ever seen. There was an industrial stove and three industrial refridgerators. On the large oak table was an array of different foods.. Was he having a feast? I approached the table as he waved over with a large chicken breast in one hand and a hard boiled egg that looked like a pea clutched between his big finger tips. I walked over to the bench that was across from his bench that he used as chairs. As I jumped up I noticed this kitchen was made for someone much bigger than me because the table came up to the top of my chest. However, Alex seemed to fit very well with the setup; In fact, he looked a bit too big for it. "Dig in, little man!" He said with his mouth stuffed. I noticed he had already gone through three full roasted chickens, tons of rice, and so much other food that I couldn't identify because there was only scraps left. I reached over and grabbed a spoonful of corn, a sliver of chicken, and a dollup of mashed potatoes. The big guy laughed loudly as I started to dig in to my scarcely filled plate. "That's all you're going to have? You're making me feel fat!" He laughed. "You're anything but fat, big guy," I laughed "Trust me on that one!" He continued to chuckle along and brought one arm up, looked at it, and curled his hand towards his bulbous shoulders making his bicep rise up. Once again my eyes grew wide and my laughter turned to coughs as I choked on a biteful of corn. He quickly looked from his huge mountain to me and then back to his arm and then back at me. He put the connection together playfully. "You like this?" He smiled. "What happened to you being a PEC guy?" He popped his chest up as he said it causing me to cough again. "I am, but your entire body... All of your--" "MUSCLES?" He interrupted as he bounced his huge bicep and then raised his other arm to match. "All of your huge muscles are absolutely incredible. I still don't know why you're doing all of this for me." I stared in awe. "Little man, I told you..I'm not only doing this for you. I love how little you are; You make me feel like a giant and I love it! And I've never met anyone who wants me to get bigger like you do!" "Well, I've never seen anyone as big as you, and I don't think I ever will!" "Hell no you won't! Check this out." He let one arm down and reach across to the center of the table where a bunch of fruit was sitting. He grabbed and apple out of the bowl and brought it back towards him. He looked over to his bicep and straightened out his arm making the bicep unflex. He carefully placed the apple on the joint between his elbow and the bowling ball that sat on his upper arm. He bent his arm a few inches and the apple became completely wedged between all of the muscles on his arm. He looked right at my face and winked and then brought his hand towards his head to flex his gigantic arm. Veins rose up like ropes and the bowling ball turned into a globe right before my eyes. The apple was completely gone and only apple sauce and juice were left dripping down the side of his arms. Chunks of apple were all over his huge cannon as he looked back to me and said "Dessert is served!" I stood on my oversized chair and started crawling across the oversized table. I got to my feet and had to skip and jump over all the bowls of food and scraps left all over the table. I reached the giant man on the other side and I noticed even standing on this table with him seated I was only a few inches above his head. I rubbed my hands through his hair sensually and then slowly knelt down in front of his massive bicep. I looked up and over at his face and we both smiled before he raised his arm right up in front of my face and grunted. The massive arm was flexing even bigger inches from my face and it was filling my entire view. It was so massive it surpassed the size of a baby car seat. I put my hands on the smooth hot surface and began rubbing in a circular pattern around the spherical muscle orb. Veins ran under my finers as large as jump rope and there was a distinct crevice that seperated the bicep from the tricep that could easily fit a television remote. "Clean it off with your tongue, little man." Alex said as he peered over his huge arm down at me. I smiled again and pressed my tongue to the warm flesh in front of me. He tilted his head back and flexed his arm even bigger. The taste of apple and sweat filled my mouth. "That's right, little man, lick it all off!" I furiously began licking every inch and crevice of the massive orb in front of me. The big man groaned again and moved his free hand to behind my hand and gently pressed me face into his bicep. He relaxed the stone wall a bit and bounced my face into the huge mass. He then moved my head into the trench between his bicep and elbow where the apple had once been. "These guns could crush you right now if I wanted." I cringed as he began putting pressure on my little head with the bicep that was about four times the size. "But they're only here to protect you." I popped my head out from the muscle and smiled up at him. I rose to my feet and hugged his huge arm with both of my arms hardly being able to reach around it. My rock hard nine inch cock was grinding in the crevice where his bicep met his arm. I stopped because it felt so good that I thought I would blow my load right then and there. The big guy noticed this and reached over to my skin tight briefs and pulled them to the ground. "Go ahead, my little guy, fuck my giant muscles." I moved my legs closer to his huge bicep as I stood on the big oak table. I used one of my arms to grab onto the back of the man mountain and grabbed my cock with the other. I began flicking my nine inch cock onto the huge stone orb that was his bicep as he bounced it around for me. I then rubbed my dick all over his muscle veins. He leaned his head over to my cock and spit on my dick. I rubbed it around and then moved my dick to the deep trench where the apple and my head had once been. The big guy and I smiled at each other and then I began to thrust my dick in the cleft he made as he flexed his bicep. "You're...soo....fucking....huge!" I panted as I continued to fuck his gargantuan muscle. "That's right! Fuck my huge muscles! Tell me how big I am!" "You're....a giant. You're...a giant....muscle god!" I thrust one last time before errupting in the deep muscle trench. I pulled my dick out and slumped over his huge flexed bicep. He bounced his huge bicep one last time with a groan and it sent me flying to the place on the oak table directly in front of his massive chest. I laid face down sprawled out on my stomach. I was so tired I couldn't lift my face off the table to look at him. I could see on the side of me was still a bunch of metal and glass utensils, bowls, and plates with the scraps of food from the feast that had fed his muscles a few minutes ago and I assumed the other side of me was the same. "Wow, little man! I can see you enjoy bicep worship a lot! Hahaha, I just hope you haven't forgotten about these big ones!" I could hear him grunt and I could almost hear the sound of muscles expanding less than a foot over my head. A shadow came over me and I could feel heat from above. With the rest of the energy I had left I picked my head up and noticed he had moved closer to the big oak table because his rock hard upper abs were pressed against the table. I slowly moved my glance up higher and saw his huge mountainous pecs were being thrusted foward over my head. They formed a massive shelf that trapped me in a crawl space between the table and the pecs above me. "You better run, little man! Because here comes the real mountains!" My eyes grew wide as they expanded over me.

He grabs Bloodstone’s scrubs and tears them off including his underwear. He then turns the doctor around and starts slapping his leaky pole on his ass. The doctor tries to get away but Davis holds him down with his free hand. ‘I just want to see if this protein can be transferred to another man. Remember you told me that if I came, I would shrink so…..if I pump it into you…..would you fucking grow from it? My mind absolutely loves the thought of that doctor because I have this craving that won’t go away.’ ‘DAVE! NO! Don’t do this! Your curiosity got the best of you. Why should I have to bear the brunt of your decision?’ The big man secures Bloodstone and picks him up to carry him over to a table. He puts him down and tells him to get on his knees. The doctor tries to resist him, but is not strong enough to really make any kind of move. ‘You wanna play doctor? HUH? *slaps Bloodstone’s chest and back* Get on your knees…..you and I both know that you can’t stop me from pumping you full of this stuff.’ He lifts the doctor up off the table and arranges his legs so that he is on all fours as Bloodstone’s hairy ass glistens with sweat. Davis moans as he looks at it and moves down to run his tongue along the doctor’s hole. He slaps his ass a few times which makes Bloodstone submit a little. Davis’s strong hands travel up and down the doctor’s back making him relax. Bloodstone’s hairy cock starts to harden making Davis laugh as he slowly parts the doctor’s ass lips with his tongue. He stops after a few minutes to reach his free hand between the nervous man’s legs to massage his hairy ballsac and pet the 9x6” rod that the doctor is sporting. He is very impressed with how equipped Bloodstone is. ‘See…..this isn’t so bad is it Ross. In fact, I am hungry for some of that beautiful meat to go along with the peanut butter you made me. You told me to relax before remember? I think you should relax now.’ Davis pulls the doctor’s cock and balls underneath his legs so he can get a taste of them. The big man licks his big ballsac and lightly sucks on it tasting some of the fear emanating from Bloodstone’s body. He moans as he runs his tongue up and down the thick cock and plays with the head on it flicking his tongue a few times. The doctor trembles feeling sensations rushing up and down his body. At this point, Davis knows that he has Bloodstone willing to give in to his advances. He swallows the huge pole and gulps each time it hits his throat. The doctor moans long and hard feeling it rub the big man’s insides. Davis gets a rhythm going that makes Bloodstone hump his mouth. The big man lets out several ‘mmmmm’’s knowing that he is winning the doctor over. He takes his other hand that was holding the doctor in place and slowly pushes a few fingers inside Bloodstone’s hole. ‘STOP IT PLEASE DAVE! Uhhhh……*winces*. I can’t do this…..why subject me to such torture?’ *Davis stops sucking for a few moments* ‘You are not fighting me anymore doctor otherwise I wouldn’t be working your cock over so easily. I am really hungry for some of your spunk by the way. Is this part of your secret formula?’ *laughs* The big man goes back to working the doctor’s cock again with his mouth as he continues to rub the inside of Bloodstone’s hole. He can sense an urgency developing now and picks up his speed. He moans with each round tasting the doctor’s thick juicy precum as it coats his throat. He pulls on his own cock to get himself ready for the true test. He pulls the doctor’s cock out of his mouth to watch it spill its honey on his tongue. He smiles and kisses it a few times. ‘Okay doctor, it’s time for you to show me how much of a stud you are. Feed me Ross, I want it in my body.’ Davis starts stroking it rapidly making Bloodstone yell in ecstasy. He can’t hold back much longer and the big man knows it. He gives the doctor’s cock a few much rounds of sucking and feels his balls twitching wildly. He stops sucking right when the flood goes barreling down his throat. He slaps the doctor’s leg with his free hand and moans deeply gulping down each jet. Just when the unfortunate scientist thinks he is satisfied, the big man starts sucking again. The doctor agonizes and wants him to stop, but Davis will have none of it. ‘Ross…..you taste incredible. I want more…..I know there is more in you your balls are big and beautiful. *moves down to suck on them individually for a few minutes before going back to the doctor’s cock again* MMMMMM, makes those balls work for me Ross.’ He sucks in a steady rhythm making the doctor gasp as he feels another load starting to flow into his cock. Davis drains another load out of him swallowing every drop and letting it relax in his throat. He sighs and pulls his fingers out of the doctor’s ass and away from him. After a minute or so, he pulls Bloodstone’s cock out of his mouth and steps back. The doctor collapses on the table and moans from exhaustion. ‘It’s okay doctor, I will do all of the hard work now.’ Davis’s big cock drools in anticipation of entering Bloodstone. The big man rubs it on the doctor’s hole which seems primed for entry. His cock slowly pushes its way inside as the eager top picks the scientist up against him and holds him in place. He thrusts methodically in and out while Bloodstone just mumbles jibberish. ‘I won’t torture you very long I promise. Besides my balls are so bloated I couldn’t hold back much longer anyway.’ Davis’s voice cracks as he feels his ballsac contracting and pushing the cum directly into his cock. With a few hard thrusts, he sprays the inside of the doctor’s intestines with his thick spunk. Bloodstone groans feeling it rush inside him. There isn’t anything he can do at this point. Davis pulls out of him and lays him back on the table. A stream of cum flows on the floor from the doctor’s anus as the big man falls to the floor and rubs his cock and balls. He looks at his arms and flexes them a few times to just admire their beauty. He looks up at the scientist and wonders if anything will happen to him now. ‘Well, looks like the waiting game now Ross. Maybe I need to try and coax it to wake up inside you.’ The doctor scoots his way to the edge of the table and falls off landing on his side. He yells in pain as he continues to move away from Davis. The big man seems uninterested in following him since he isn’t moving very fast. Bloodstone leaves the supply room and heads for the chemical shower located on the other side of the panic room. He doesn’t hear the big man following him so he tries to crawl a little faster. He gets to the shower and pulls himself up slowly to pull the lever to turn the shower on. Davis now decides to get up and enters the room. ‘HA, what are you doing doctor? I don’t think washing yourself off is going to matter all that much.’ Davis goes and picks up the jar of peanut butter and makes a motion like he is going to stick his hand inside it. He hears the doctor groaning and sees him fall to the ground grasping his stomach. A huge smile appears on the bodybuilder’s face as he realizes that this may very well work. He walks over to Bloodstone and gets down on his knees to look at him. The doctor is now hurting so badly that he can’t even look up. ‘Hurts doesn’t it Ross…..when it first started in me I thought I was dying, but once it reached my balls, I was in heaven.’ The doctor’s lean frame begins to make a few popping sounds as his abs jut out a bit. The big man watches them intently as he rubs each eight individual tiles. Bloodstone looks terrified as he feels it moving through him. His lower body’s muscles stretch and pull outward forming into small vascular tree trunks stretching all the way down to his ankles and feet. Davis massages them slowly as they finish growing. ‘You are not going to be quite as large as me it seems, but I have to say I still like what I am seeing.’ Bloodstone’s flat pecs fill out next as he strains to breathe. His arms are growing entirely new veins inside them as they branch all the way up and down his hands and shoulders. His back and ass pop several times growing slightly larger and wider than before. High-pitched stretching noises radiate from the sides of his back as lats seem to come out from nowhere. Once it finally gets to his balls and cock, the doctor looks like he is completely spent and passes out. Strange stretching sounds are now coming from his crotch as the big man notices the doctor’s ballsac growing larger as his testicles blow up in size. His cock grows even thicker than before which immediately gets the attention of Davis. ‘MMMMM doctor, I think you are going to need this taken care of again.’ He leans down and licks the swollen cockhead with his tongue and figures out that he can shove it inside the piss slit. The doctor lies motionless not reacting to any of this stimulation. The big man slurps the river of honey that is now flowing freely from inside and moans deeply. Within a few seconds though, he starts to feel a bit weird and stops drinking the fluid. He falls backwards onto the floor and starts to rub his face and head. Bloodstone wakes up and looks over to stare straight at him. He quickly crawls over to Davis and throws the big man’s legs over his shoulders. He gets up on his knees to return the favor on the big man. He shoves his massive cock inside the bodybuilder and starts fucking him relentlessly. Davis agonizes feeling the doctor filling him up with that fluid. His muscles begin to shrink slightly as his cock immediately erupts. Bloodstone grabs his legs and moves both of them over to the jar before angling Davis’s huge cock inside it as it cums steadily. The big man looks absolutely horrified seeing the cum starting to mesh with the peanut butter inside. He continues to shrink and starts crying uncontrollably as he nearly returns back to his original size. The doctor slows his fucking down and squeezes Davis’s balls trying to get every last drop out of the shrinking man. Davis can no longer speak because he is so exhausted. The doctor pulls his huge cock out and gets up off the ground with the jar in tow. He takes it over to one of the media stations and returns to the supply room to retrieve his potions and scrubs before coming back. He pours one of them inside with the peanut butter where it merges with the cum and starts glowing. The doctor smiles and documents it on his tablet that was sitting in his pants. He flexes his new muscles and turns back around to look at the shocked man lying on the ground. ‘I just wanted to tell you Dave that the experiment was a rousing success. In fact, I would really like to thank you for imbuing me with muscles I haven’t had in ages. I actually needed someone like you to consume this protein just to see if it was the right combination and fortunately it was. Your brain chemistry improved as a result and you became very articulate which was a surprise. Although I wasn’t expecting you to rape me, I was not going to resist you.’ Davis looks at him in confusion and doesn’t really know where he is going with this. ‘You see Dave, I am part of something bigger, something…..very important. There are others like me that are trying to find ways to turn regular humans into muscle monsters. I think I might be the first one though to successfully keep the human mind from disappearing after transformation. Now, if you will excuse me I need to find a new set of clothes for this great new body of mine. I will send someone in to help clean you up so you can be sent into the recovery ward.’ The doctor grabs the jar, his tablet, and the remaining potions and leaves the area. Davis lays his head back down on the ground and starts sobbing again. With the experiment over, the doctor sets out for his next agenda.

"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. 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 Chapter 6: Casey Is Discovered The day that Casey Rockland first set foot inside a gym, he was a shy, tongue-tied, lonely, oversized 12-year old. He stood, frightened and abashed, at the front desk of Raw Weight. He had walked around the block for an hour before he found the courage to walk through the dark-glass swinging doors. Miles stood behind the desk. “Yes, son?” he asked after a moment. God, this kid has potential, he thought. Gosh, he’s handsome, Casey thought. He gawked at the huge, veiny arms that poured from the short sleeves of Miles’ sports shirt. The hugely rolling biceps made his dick twitch a little. From the moment Casey first laid eyes on Miles Donovan, he thought he was the handsomest, smartest, most masculine, most muscular man he had ever met in his life. Just the sight of Miles’ hardcore physique, casually displayed in loose-fitting slacks and a navy blue sports shirt boasting the Raw Weight logo, made Casey’s well-hidden, oversized teenage member leap to attention. It was love at first sight. Which was not lost on Miles. “C-can I join?” Casey finally stammered out. “You want to train here?” “Yes, sir.” “How old are you, son?” “Twelve,” answered Casey honestly. Miles paused, and then asked kindly, “Where do you live?” “San Jose Boys’ Home.” Aha, thought Miles. His heart went out to the beautiful, over-sized, sad-faced kid. “Of course you can join. Ever trained before?” Casey’s heart leapt. “No, sir!” “How much can you pay?” “I can work for you, sir! I can clean the locker rooms, and the toilets, and take out the garbage, and paint the walls, and – “ If Miles had allowed it, a tear would have come into his eye. Besides, this kid had overwhelming genetic promise. He held up a hand. “No need for all that. Of course you can train here. We’ll discuss money some other time. Let’s get you started. Do you have workout clothes?” “N-no, sir.” “Well, let’s get you fitted out. Come on along with me. Sid, take the desk,” Miles shot to the flirting young muscleboy trainer who was chatting up one of the wide-eyed fitness babes who trolled the workout floor, looking for available young muscle studs. “And try to keep your mind on your work.” Back to Casey. “What’s your name, son?” “Casey Rockland.” “Well, Casey Rockland, I think you might have found your new home. Let’s see what you got.” He moved out from behind the desk and approached Casey. Casey’s heart was still leaping. Miles Donovan was an astonishing man. Casey had never dreamed that such a huge, handsome, masculine, muscular man would ever take notice of him. Like an eager puppy, he fell into step behind Miles, who was leading him out onto the workout floor. There, dozens of men and women of various sizes, states, dress, and degrees of sweat were toiling away at nameless, complicated activities involving weights, machines, benches, bars, cables, racks, mats, balls, rings, and rope. One or two looked up curiously at Miles and the gawky big kid trotting behind him. William Obatu was one of those who looked up. Already in enrolled in Project Herculaneum, the handsome black African muscle monster Obatu was allowed to steal away from the compound to his home front of Raw Weight (with occasional forays to the 3rd floor, where he regularly held personal worship sessions). Obatu takes a selfie.... “Who’s that big kid?” he asked Miles one evening a few weeks later on the 3rd floor. He was working arms, doing slow concentration curls, generally ignoring the rich twinky boy on his knees before him, begging to worship the bulging cannonball biceps. “What kid?” asked Miles innocently, walking by. Obatu continued doing curls and feigned the same indifference that Miles was displaying. “You know. The big kid. Downstairs. He ever come up here to 3?” “Naw. Too young.” “Pleeeeeaazzze…..” begged the handsome kneeling twink on his knees, reaching up in hopes to get a quick fingertip brush of iron muscles. Obatu glanced down, a little impatiently, and reracked the weight. “Whtchu want?” he demanded, and slapped the kid’s face. Some ‘a’ this?” He flexed his biceps. The kid moaned gratefully. “Shut up, worm,” he commanded. Flexxxxxx… “Boom,” he said. “25 inches. Feel ‘em.” Back to Miles. “Saving him for yourself?” “Nope. Saving him for your boss. And your commanding officer. Is Tyrone any good?” Obatu was perplexed. “Who’s Tyrone?” He continued flexing, gazing admiringly at his peaks. Miles pointed down at the kid who now was both reaching in vain to touch the iron biceps while feverishly licking the heavy downward-pointing bulge in Obatu’s regulation tiny posers. Obatu shuddered with pleasure but covered. “These posers are too damn small.” “You must be used to it by now.” “You never get used to it.” “I repeat, is Tyrone any good?” “What do you care, I’m paying $5,000 a month to be up here,” mumbled Tyrone, his mouth now scooping up the thick black muscle cock that tumbled from Obatu’s straining posers. Obatu glanced up. “Trust fund kid,” Miles explained. “Oh.” He looked back down again and flexed his biceps again, a little more respectfully. “Hope you’re enjoying yourself.” Tyrone moaned passionately and sucked vigorously. After a moment, Miles spoke. “Looks like fun. Mind if I join you?” “Oh, if you’re gonna make a party of it, be my guest,” said Obatu, stepping aside. Miles, still dressed, stepped in and unzipped his pants. His big cock poured out. In an instant Tyrone had both bodybuilders’ cocks in his mouth. “Flex for him. He likes it,” said Obatu. Miles flexed his powerful silver daddy 23-inch biceps. A slight tearing sound was heard. “Damn. Another shirt.” He decided to take it out on Tyrone. He plucked the cock from his mouth and slapped his handsome smooth young cheeks vigorously with the now hard-as-steel shaft. “Nice move,” said Obatu. “Let me try that. Hey, asswipe. Over here.” And he smacked Tyrone’s face with his black cock. Soon Tyrone’s head was whipping from side to side, his face buffeted by heavy cock blows. "Take us both, boy. One after the other," ordered Miles. Tyrone went into a frenzy, sucking Obatu's cock, then twisting his head and sucking Miles' cock, back and forth. "Yeah, good boy," said Miles. A few minutes later the musclemen both shot, coating Tyrone's face with heavy layers of thick, creamy cum. Tyrone moaned as thick spurt after thick spurt emerged from each man's pisshole, painting his face, covering him with cum. “That was fun,” said Obatu. “Yeah, let’s do it again some time,” said Miles, walking away. "Clean that up, boy," he ordered as he strode away, squatting slightly as a zipped up, putting his heavy cock away. Obatu resumed his workout, Miles went back to his office. Tyrone lay on a bench, ecstatically spent. Casey took to lifting weights immediately. He had a genius for developing his own start-up training program, and he poured over the muscle magazines he could find. During computer hours he browed the net for muscle information, training routines, and reading all about the muscle stars. He was going to be one, one day, himself. He was determined. Then they’d see. But, gosh, it was hard work. Lifting hurt. It was painful. It was slow. It took time. He was stunned at the beginning at just how much work it was. One afternoon after he'd been lifting only a few weeks, he was sitting dejected in the locker room. Alone. Miles, coming through with towels, saw him. He understood. He put the towels away, and came over and sat with him on the bench awhile. They were silent together a few minutes. "It hurts." Casey finally said. "Yes, it does." "And it's hard." "Yes, it is. Not everyone can do it." "I didn't know it would be this hard." Miles smiled, and put a paternal arm around Casey's shoulders, patting him with a giant paw. "If it were easy, everyone would be big. It is not magic. You can't take a pill and get bigger. People who think so are crazy and wrong. There's no growth serum. I repeat Casey, there's no magic. It doesn't exist. You can't eat a magic cookie, and just get huge. And people who think so are fools. And dreamers." "But I'm a dreamer....." Casey said sadly. "Yes, you are a dreamer, too, but you're not foolish. You know what work is. Hard work. It's growth with effort. Growth without effort doesn't exist. It's an empty dream, a useless fantasy. There are no super heroes, Casey. There's only hard work. Years and years and years of it. But I'll tell you a secret......" he leaned in. Casey looked up. "If you keep doing it? every day, you'll get a little closer to your dream." A light began to shine in Casey's eyes. A tear formed. He looked up at Donovan, now standing over him. "You mean that?" "I do. And Casey? You'll achieve your dream. If you keep working." He paused and stepped back, hitching his thumbs in his belt. "You had a good workout today. You're pushing the limits. But now you need to rest. G'wan back to the home and eat some chicken. Rest tomorrow. No, rest two days. Don't want to see you back here until Saturday." He smiled. "But on Saturday? I'll train with you. And we're gonna fucking murder those weights." Casey's face shone like the sun. He nodded, eagerly, unable to speak a moment. "Sure, Miles! I'll go back and eat chicken and sleep and see you Saturday!!" He got up and began packing his bag. "Work on those abs. You can do crunches tomorrow as long as you don't use weight," he said as he left the locker room. ****** As Casey trained at Raw Weight it was soon apparent that as he gained strength and grew, he needed more than three times as much food. Sister Anne in the kitchen, sympathetic to the big, sweet, dumb, exceptionally handsome kid, supplied him with the extra portions of meat whenever she could get away with it, unaware that the Home’s director, Sister Marietta, had deliberately turned a blind eye. She was even guilty of making sure there were plenty of steaks and chicken breasts on hand. Four years passed. Casey trained like a maniac. He would have been there every day, all day, but Miles forbad it, making him aware of the need for rest days. "Your body won't grow muscles unless you rest. You want to get big?" "Yes, sir! I want to be huge!" "Then you stay away 3 days a week. Eat a lot of protein. Do your ab exercises every night. But no weights. You wanna grow and get big you gotta give your body a rest." Casey, deeply in love, filled with awe, was all the same a little frightened of Miles, and shied away from him for a long time. Miles, understanding the nature of hero worship, gave the handsome kid a wide berth, encouraging him in a business-like way as he made muscle gains. Sensing even more talent, after Casey had been at Raw Weights about 2 years, he introduced him one afternoon to Ramon Ramon, a stern, grizzled, totally ripped, if slightly punch drunk old Puerto Rican extreme cage fighter who always seemed to be at Miles’ gym, as if he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Soon Casey was taking boxing and kickboxing lessons from Ramon Ramon. He began running, jumping rope, lifting the huge truck tires in the corner of the 1st floor, and working out with a punching bag. Ramon was also into wrestling. He bought Casey his first singlet. For hours after Casey's workouts they grappled on Raw Weight’s stained old wrestling mats, bathed in sweat. Ramon was old and grey but had solidly ripped, strong muscles, and Casey loved the feel of the old iron warrior’s abs against his abs as rolled around together on the floor. When Ramon locked his legs around young Casey’s neck and squeezed, Casey always got what the boys in the home called ‘a boner.’ Big and hard, it poled up in the singlet and would have embarrassed him had Ramon not been so cool about it. “Big tool. Get you a bigger singlet next time. You need a scoche more room in the crotch.” Ramon’s legs were clamped onto 16-year old Casey’s 22-inch neck. He howled. He had never been happier. His erection pointed high to the ceiling. “Go ahead and take care of it,” said Ramon. “Be good for ya. Young guys gotta cum.” He let go of Casey’s left arm. Casey shouted and stroked with his freed hand and his cum shot to the ceiling and plopped onto his abs and the wrestling mat. He was never embarrassed around Ramon. “Think you got the biggest cock I ever did see,” said the old wrestler, his iron vice grip holding Casey in a headlock now. The cum continued to shoot. “It’s healthy. Like to see it.” And Casey groaned happily with pain as Ramon squeezed harder. They wrestled in a pool of cum, soon made even greater as Ramon shot all over his steely abs. “Thought I’d join you,” he said. "Be sure to clean that up before you hit the showers." "Yes, sir!" said Casey, happily spent. For two more years Casey followed a strict regimen of quiet hard-core muscle building. He grew and grew. Miles was taking notice. By the time he was 17, it was clear that he had extraordinary bodybuilding gifts. His dedication to lifting was unquestioned, his genetics nothing less than astonishing. One afternoon at the gym during one of his workouts, Miles Donovan glanced out of office window at the big, muscular young teen in the middle of the workout floor. Casey stood alone on the workout floor, his red t-shirt dripping with sweat. He was insanely propelling himself through a 5th set of unduly punishing biceps curls, curling 125 pounds. His face was crimson, his eyes bulged, his teeth were gritted like a madman, thick cords of veins pounded in his neck. His meaty young biceps were being punished into new growth levels. Miles watched the 16-year old boy through the window closely. “Guess it’s time,” he said to himself. He speed-dialed Dr. Anton Zaftig at Valhalla Labs on his mobile. It was time. He hardly knew nor cared what who Zaftig was, or what this “research” was about. All Donovan knew is that he was supposed to be on the lookout for ‘special’ muscle - from the young men who showed unusual potential, to the older, more weather-beaten gym rats who were so far past feeling any pain that all they could do was pack on more and more beef – as long as they were able to keep a balance with their abs, that is. And – as long as they had other talents as well, including square jaws, clean skin, clear eyes, and redoubtable priapic gifts. Zaftig had been quietly paying Donovan for years to spot potential talent. And the size and regularity of Zaftig’s checks were profoundly motivating. “Zaftig?” A mumbled affirmative. “There’s a kid who’s been training here a few years who I think you might want to check out….. No, he’s only 17, but he’s huge. Yes. Really huge. Yes, he’s good, very good, and I think he could be great. I’ve been watching him quite awhile now. Hmmm? Two years. No, three. Regularly. Yeah.” Donovan paced a little and glanced out his window to the gym floor. Casey was putting himself through his 6th set of curls. 15 reps per set. Now at 160 lbs. “Weight? He’s 220. At age 17. Yes, really. 220. Height? Get this: he’s 6’4”. And I don’t think he’s done growing. Yes, superb symmetry. What?" He sighed at Zaftig's question. "Yeah, he's hung, too. Biggest goddam tool I ever saw." Another mumbled question. "What? Okay. I’ll call you back. Ten minutes.” He hung up. He got up from his chair and walked out onto the floor up to the muscleboy. “Awesome. Awesome young muscle. Congratulations,” he said breezily. Casey was in heaven. “Gee thanks, Mr. Donovan!” he said. Casey was always excited when the handsome muscleman praised him. “Let’s see those guns,” said Miles. Casey was only too happy to comply, eagerly flexing his powerful young biceps. Miles stroked them appreciatively, and then casually flexed his own right arm. Casey stared. “Wow,” he breathed. He reached forward to touch it. “Go ahead,” said Miles. “Stroke it.” As Casey approached respectfully and softly ran his fingers over Miles’ thick biceps, the older man glanced down. And was startled. The bulge in Casey’s gym shorts was poled out about a foot from his hips. He didn’t seem to notice, transfixed as he was stroking Miles’ biceps. Miles flexed a few more times for him, and with great self-control, walked away. He called Zaftig back. “Yeah, he gets hard when he touches muscles. Okay. No, I don’t think he does drink. Or smoke. One thing, though. I don’t think he’s the brightest light in the billboard. Does it matter? No? Okay. Yes. I will. I’ll keep you posted.” It was that afternoon that Donovan smilingly informed Casey that his membership to Raw Weight would be free of charge for the foreseeable future. He clapped him breezily on his powerful young shoulders, and was slightly astonished at the hardness of the muscle beneath his palm. For his part, Casey was overjoyed. He didn’t stop to examine why such good fortune might have his way, and what might be expected of him in exchange in the future. He continued to pump enthusiastically, and pack on the muscle. The kid’s not bad, thought Donovan, watching Casey joyfully burn through a grueling set of 20 reps of 400-pound deadlifts. ******* Just a few days later that Casey Rockland finally decided to do something about the gang who had been pummeling him in the dorm shower room for years. Already it was taking more and more of the boys in the gang to hold him down during his beatings, which were growing far less frequent as he got bigger and bigger. One day they stopped completely, but the boy’s hostility still festered in the air. Casey was getting ready for payback. Ramon had showed him how, too. “You got a fearsome punch, kid,” he said one afternoon, flat on his back in the ring where Casey had just knocked him, his eye blackened. “Lead with the left. You got it.” One night after lights out, a few of the boys circled his bed. He looked up at them, bleary-eyed and half asleep. “What?” he asked. “Pull his shorts down!“ “You do it! It’s gay!” “I wanna see!” came a pipsqueak voice. Casey felt a dozen hands pin him down in the half-light, and his shorts were yanked to his knees. His adolescent penis, tumescent in the steamy night, was exposed. He was humiliated. And mad. “Goddamn!” one boy yelled. “It’s huge!” “It’s like a monster!” “Hey, Banana Man!” “See, I told ya!” “He’s a freak!” “Casey the Freak!” the boys chanted, and began to pummel him. Casey curled into a ball on his mattress, gritted his teeth, and took it tearfully. “Next time,” he said himself as the boys rained his body with their weak punches. "Next time, they get it." On what turned out to be his last day in the San Jose Boys’ Home, a gang of 18 biggest boys circled him during morning showers, laughing and pointing at his monster penis for the last time. "Okay," he said. "You turds have laughed at me for the last time. He swung a fist, very deliberately, and caught the ringleader square on the jaw. A tooth flew out and the boy hit the wall of the shower. Methodically Casey began to punch his way through the crowd of now-terrified boys. He was surprised at how easy it was. When the steam cleared, all 18 lay on the ground with an array of blackened eyes, broken noses, fractured jaws, and missing teeth. Casey sported a huge shiner himself. It was worth it. That afternoon 5 ambulances pulled up to the front gates and took the boys away for bandaging in the San Juan ER. Four boys were required to stay overnight for observation. Sister Marietta called him into her office to reprimand him. As she always did with the bad boys, she bent him over her lap and spanked his firm young butt with a ruler. She broke three of them before she finally gave up, perplexed at how hard the young man’s behind had become. Afterwards, rubbing his stinging bottom, Casey ran back to his room and cried. No one loves me, he cried. That night he ran away forever from the San Jose Boy’s Home. He went to the gym, and still sniffling, emptied out his locker. Donovan watched him from the window in his office as Casey, in tears tucked his favorite do-rag in his back jeans pocket and slumped out into the night. Casey figured he had to leave town, although he had no idea where exactly he was going to go. Miles picked up his mobile phone. He figured the time had come. A hour later, Dr. Zaftig found Casey sitting alone and dejectedly in the San Jose bus station. Dr. Zoloft was in transit from the city to the lab facility in the countryside outside town when Donovan had called him hurriedly. He did a fast detour in his minivan, walked swiftly into the bus station, and took a good look at the huge kid bursting out of his t-shirt, sitting alone on a bench in the corner. He knew right away he had another promising specimen for Project Herculaneum. Miles Donovan was never wrong. Zaftig walked unhesitatingly up to Casey and introduced himself. He talked about a bright, golden future for the young bodybuilder. Innocent Casey stared at him uncomprehendingly for a few minutes. Then he smiled through his tears. In the end, he went with the doctor with the funny name. He never questioned anything. He was just grateful. Casey moved into the cadet facility at the base of the mountain leading up to the main compound that night. The next morning, Dr. Irving appeared in Sister Marietta’s office and signed for his release. He flashed some government identification for her, muttered some Federal mumbo jumbo, announced that Valhalla Labs had invested in Casey’s training for four years, and petitioned the court for the right to take Casey into custody. Sister Marietta held up her hand to cut him off, offering no objections. “Take him. He’s too big for us now. We can’t afford to feed him anymore, and the other boys are now terrified of him. Besides, four of his classmates are still in the hospital. It would be best for all if he left.” As she signed the papers offered by Dr. Irving, she added, “But please take good care of him. Casey is a sweet and simple young man. He needs love.” No other paperwork seemed necessary, and though it was far from being anything like a formal adoption, it was enough for the Good Sister. She was relieved to see the boy go – he now always seemed to be hungry, and she had been forced to replace Sister Anne in the kitchen because the boy’s appetite was breaking the food budget. She was glad he could go somewhere where, hopefully, he would get his required 6 square meals a day. Beyond that, she wouldn’t worry. Casey had always been a good boy – well, until the day before. She knew he’d make the right decisions for himself. Or not. Once in the program, Zaftig fast-tracked Casey’s growth. Under Zaftig’s watchful eye and the encouragement of the cadet trainers, he worked harder than anyone he had yet encountered. And the food? He couldn’t believe it – six full meals a day! Two days a week he was required to remain near his quarters and relax. The other five days of the week were taken up with schooling, enhanced nutrition, supervised meditation, running drills, bicycling, swimming, gymnastics practice, small arms training, and nightly injections of Protein 21b, Zaftig’s laboratory serum developed under the most rigorous of testing. Within two months, he was a full cadet in the program, and in less than 2 years he was approaching the threshold of muscular perfection. Most of the time for those years, he was alone with Zaftig, Dr. Irving, his trainers, and some of the Project cadets. He had been restrained from meeting the other 19 men, who trained and socialized on their own in the main building of the facility. He didn’t notice it just at first, but during the next two years he couldn’t help but wonder at the increasing volume of his emissions. He had no inkling that Protein 21b might be causing his sperm production to gradually increase exponentially. Still, during the two years he came to understand that there might be some link between the clear liquid in the daily injections and the increasingly generous volume of semen that spurted out of his cock nightly. He was also amazed that his cock itself appeared to be getting even bigger. He had always been hugely hung, but – this was crazy. At first it required little more than a washrag to clean up after himself, but in time, larger and larger bath towels were required to mop up the flow after cumming. His sheets were badly always badly stained in the morning, and – strangely – every night he found they had been replaced by crisp, new sheets. He never knew who might be doing this for him, and over time his initial embarrassment about his sticky sheets faded away into the generally dark, accumulating volume of unanswered questions. After he passed his high school graduation equivalency exams, Zaftig decided he was ready to take it to the next level. It was time to formally present the boy to the 19. Casey was 18 years old and in the best condition of his young life to date. Still, he was lonely. At night he lay alone in his little room, gazed out the window at the moon and the stars, and beat his humongous meat off fiercely. He dreamed of being the biggest, strongest man in the world. Everyone would love him. And he would protect everyone. It was the sweetest dream in the world, and it was always enough to charge him to a satisfying climax. Then he’d roll over and fall into a deep sleep, hopeful for better days.

"The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "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 Chapter 3: White Cap Training At the beginning, Zaftig had believed that the perfect man was Rod Moster. Now, 18 other enhanced candidates approached the successful muscular development levels Moster had already achieved. Moster’s edge was waning. On training days, the men could eat whatever they wished, as long as their diets included 5,000 daily grams of pure animal protein. After a “light” morning workout, a day of classes and small arms training, and between regularly scheduled sessions of long distance swimming, bicycling, sparring, wrestling, karate, tae kwon do, yoga, kickboxing, and extreme fighting technique skills, the men were set loose in the gym at 1730 hours. By then, of course, they were wild to lift heavy and lift hard. On muscle recovery days, the men were commanded to remain in or near their private quarters and barred from stressful activities. Maintaining proper diet in all six daily meals remained in effect, socializing was strictly limited, and long hours of meditation were advised. It was understood that their finely honed mechanisms required fresh air, a little light running, a mile-long swim or two, and long, stress-free, leisurely walks along the many compound park trails. Lights out on muscle recovery days was 2000 hours. The rest day protocols were strictly enforced. These rest days were always the dullest days imaginable for the energized squad of musclemen. Early morning the day after rest, they were filled once again with blinding zeal and unfettered ambition for the hours of brutal, strictly regimented workouts. Lately Sergeant Moster was even more vigilant than usual, making sure that the men stayed on point throughout the session. Once every few weeks, the men eagerly anticipated a ‘White Cap’ training session. White Cap Nights meant one thing - no holds barred. They were scheduled generally as an incentive following of long periods of recorded ‘good team behavior.’ The men ached for them. White Caps contained traces of concentrated undiluted P21 granules, blended carefully with powerfully lab-enhanced homeopathic supplements and pure, powdered oxygen. It was like muscle heroin, mainstreamed. Zaftig’s researchers had found that this compound powder form of P21, when taken orally, produced short-term jolts of strength stamina, and unrestrained energy that were, unlike the injectable form, only temporarily enjoyed. The workouts performed after a white cap had been consumed boasted over-the-top performance levels, which always resulted in new personal bests. The gains the men made on these nights, whether lifting, swimming, running, or fighting, provided benchmarks for future optimal training. There was a drawback. The few remaining social restraints the men still had from their former lives had all but faded to nothingness. Just as the men were moved to achieve new highs on the workout floor, the few remaining inhibitors they did still maintain all but vanished. While scheduling White Cap nights was becoming an increasing necessity in order to keep the men focused on pure muscle growth, Dr. Zaftig had become highly concerned that as the team continued to surpass previously-considered “impossible” training goals, the squad’s standards of good behavior, or even basic societal standards of decency, were becoming increasingly rare. And while Zaftig continued to allow Moster control the group, he was aware of his probable own long-term foolishness in this decision. For under Moster’s direction, the squad was separating itself little by little from standards of common social boundaries. To say nothing of military discipline. How could Zaftig hope to impress the brass if his muscle monsters, for all of their nearly inhuman development, were out of control? And how could Project Herculaneum continue if the military removed its nearly decade-long support? Moreover, a Joint Chiefs review was scheduled for November. Zaftig was worried. In effect, his chief inmate was now running the asylum. It made for fantastic achievements in muscle size, strength, and accomplishment. It did little or nothing to contain the burgeoning sexual psyches of musclemen who craved to exhibit, show-off, pose, tease, and flex with abandon. Three years before, when the Nineteen were still the Twelve, a White Cap night had been introduced as a lab experiment. The men ended up in such a muscles-entangled in a spectacularly muscle-flexing, cum-spurting locker room orgy after the workout that the program was almost abandoned. Sheepish and humiliated the next day, the Twelve went back to the gym to set new benchmarks in strength, endurance, and lifting. With some persuasion, Moster argued to Zaftig that occasional white cap nights, strongly regulated and following firm procedures might inspire the men further to new heights. Distributed in the wrong hands, White Caps could be dangerous, and perhaps lethal. They were highly stimulating drugs, and the enlarged pupils, deep breathing, increased body heat and volumes of sweat they produced required careful monitoring. For the Project Herculaneum men, white caps were like crack. Zaftig had been against them from the start, until over time it became apparent that no organic harm had ever resulted, nor certifiable addiction issues. Moreover, the men remained inspired by White Cap workouts in the months to come. And they understood that for them to be most effective, these nights could come only 4 or 5 times a year. Zaftig reluctantly agreed, on the condition that the nights were videotaped by no less than six cameras. The tapes would be closely reviewed for infractions and sexually aggressive behavior. In exchange, Moster bargained that during shower time, they men could indulge as they wished. Zaftig, sincerely hoping no long-term hospitalizations would result, gave the go-ahead for periodic white cap nights. And so they began. On these nights, for two hours, it was only Moster’s grim domination of the men that prevent them from brutally fucking each other right there on the workout floor. That would wait, as he faithfully promised them all, for the shower room afterwards, when, fuck each other, they did, and with relish. Of late, however, not a little of the sexual acting out had made its way to the gym floor. One by one, the video cameras were shut down and put away, leaving no record. And the men grew more unrestrained. October 19th had been a required rest and muscle recovery day, for October 20th‘s workout was scheduled as a White Cap Night. After all, later that night in the mess, the men were scheduled to meet the so-called young ‘muscle genius’ Casey Rockland for the first time. Another recruit from Miles Donovan’s San Jose hardcore gym Raw Weight. Just a kid, really. Only 18. But with real promise, or so it seemed. Moster determined to think about Casey Rockland a little later. He couldn’t afford to have split attention when the men were on the floor and under the influence of the pure, undiluted stuff. And it was too late to turn back now. As long as P21 continued to produce almost miraculous results, and the men grew exponentially large and become stronger beyond all projected imagining, and Project Herculaneum approached its 10-year anniversary, Zaftig had finally been forced to turn a blind eye to both the benefits of White Cap Nights, and the now-nightly after-hours sexual behavior. Moster distributed the capsules personally to the men as they filed onto the floor. The bodybuilders gobbled them down immediately, already chuckling and winking at one another. Then Moster stood back and allowed their raging hormones their full force. Watchful and ever ready to impose his strict discipline as needed, he nevertheless understood the basic benefits of weight-room bonding. He let them go. He did not take one himself. He stood watchfully to one side. He was dressed, as he generally was, in his spotless oversized white sweats. He had completed his own workout privately an hour before while his squad was going through their abs training in the enclosed hot room just next to the workout floor. It was generally unnecessary for him to display his physical superiority to his squad of muscle freaks, except privately, and only when warranted. And tonight in particular, he chose to remain fully covered as if to encourage the men to pay attention to their own bodies. Upon occasion, however, he would strip down to his jock and join the men in their training to maintain bonding, and supply ongoing inspiration, however he determined it might be needed. Those nights had become increasingly rare, however, as the complicated, competitive reactions of the men to Moster’s detailed muscularity had begun to inhibit the workflow. From the sidelines, watching his squad’s training with laser focus, he made sure his men strictly maintained dead-on correct form with each grueling lift. Moster made careful notes in the margins of the evening training session report filled out in advance for him daily by meek, balding little Dr. Irving, Zaftig’s nearly silent civilian lab assistant. Never disappointed at either their stamina or their passion during normal workouts, the results achieved on white cap nights amazed even him. The effects always began gradually. Divided into their usual smaller training teams of 2 and 3 men each, the soldier-bodybuilders of Project Herculaneum took turns spotting one another and blasting alternate muscle groups. Tonight, teams one and two were working back and lats, teams three and four delts, traps and triceps, teams five and six legs, team seven chest and biceps. An hour of punishing abdominal work preceded the heavy lifting. The men grimaced, grunted, spat, cursed, shouted and groaned with ecstatic agony as, all around the room, each man pumped his super-sized, vein-exploding muscles to their greatest potential. Their dirty army regulation wife-beater t-shirts were grimy with dirt and drenched with water and sweat. Beneath the t-shirts, each man displayed blinding, awesomely ripped physiques, packed with dense, intricate, vascular cables of tendons, ligaments, river-thick veins and mountainously large, round, popping muscle bellies. Abs rippled with cobblestone washboard 8-packs on waistlines that grew no larger than 32 inches. Lats flared. Pecs pumped. Biceps bulged ferociously as the men aggressively lifted and posed for one another in between sets, each man confident that he was bigger than his training partner. Some of the men kept their bodies shaved. Others let their body hair grow. Moster demanded shaved physiques only once a month for company inspection, and over time he had come to respect the fact that some of the furrier musclemen were proud of their sprouting masses of thick, healthy chest, asshole, and pubic hair. Short, regulation haircuts were required, though some of the older men were allowed beards and mustaches. After all, personal vanity, as long as it didn’t supplant regulations, was to be encouraged. It also kept the men unique from one another. While they were all extraordinarily developed bodybuilders, Moster knew the value of each man maintaining his own identity and special tastes. It was all part of his plan. Moster's vision, if you will. After all, later on, new cadet Casey would be presented to the group. For it appeared that Casey Rockland might possess the rare organic gifts that were even more sympathetic. Moster wanted the men to be aching with rage and pain from their blazingly cruel workout when they first encountered Muscle Cadet Casey Rockland at precisely 2200 hours. He wished he could also prevent the men from the usual hardcore White Cap Night after-workout showers free-for-all, but he knew that was impossible. Then again, P21 worked in mysterious ways. Maybe the men would be feeling replenished and reloaded? White Cap Night workouts were tougher, true, but the floor activity and the post-show group release in the showers meant the men would be drained. So maybe not quite as spot-on impassioned (envious? turned on?) at their first meeting of the impressively swole 18-year muscle monster. In any event, Moster would enforce no-touch rules on Casey for the first few weeks. At least. Zaftig had recently confided in Moster that Rockland might indeed be that long-sought P21 perfect recipient. The men already sensed that Rockland was different. For almost two years, they’d all glimpsed the fully-covered teenage cadet Rockland periodically training with the program’s other young cadets in their own, smaller gym in an auxiliary building in the compound. He was unaccountably huge, and the cadets were increasingly intimidated by his size and strength. It was way past time to move him up into the ranks. Most of the cadets still lived off-campus in discreetly rented apartments in nearby San Jose. Vans picked them up early each morning and returned them to their front doors each early evening. There was no socializing with The Nineteen. A few of the more promising cadets were assigned cadet housing in the facility’s dormitory. And Rockland had been moved into the dorm at the outset. And from what the men could tell from a distance, he was mammoth beyond imaging for a teenager. Rockland was said to be a genetic marvel, even amongst these men, though none of them had yet had the occasion to closely inspect the young man’s physique. Zaftig had made sure of that. Even Sergeant Moster had not yet interviewed the young man. He was amused (if just a little irritated) that Zaftig had purposefully held back on presenting Rockland to him, instead encouraging Rockland to bond with the other cadets in their own comparatively unsupervised weight training. The point was to see what the teen cadets would do on their own recognizance. Junior to Moster, but reporting only to Zaftig, Casey’s handlers were required to keep their notes confidential – that is to say, away from Moster. So far, Rockland had little inkling of the plans that were in place for his future. In time, Moster had come to accept the set up. In the 10 years since he first began to assemble the men of Project Herculaneum, Zaftig had always been successful in presenting a finely honed candidate worthy of the grueling responsibilities of membership. He had an eye for talent, Moster had to acknowledge, finding gold in a man he himself might have passed on. Moster assumed, correctly as it happened, that at this very moment in another part of the compound, Zaftig was preparing young Casey Rockland for his first presentation to The Nineteen. For it was only after long-term study of the effects on a so-called control “perfect specimen” that the kinks of the formula could finally be identified, and eliminated. After that, it would be ready for general release to the public – and ready to earn billions for Zaftig. For even in the true believer Zaftig, at the end of the day, it was still all about the money. What Moster didn’t know was that Zaftig, sure of Rockland’s gifts and unparalleled fast-track progress, had been injecting him from day one as a cadet with P21. It was possible that young Casey Rockland was the man that Zaftig had long been searching for. He’d been on the protocol for two years now, ever since that night Zaftig found him, lonely and alone, and prompted by a hurried call from Miles Donovan, in the San Jose Greyhound bus station. Chapter 4: A Brief History of Casey Rockland 2002-2021 Even as a baby, he was unusually large and healthy. He had appeared one night in Fall, 2002, delivered anonymously just inside chilly porticoes of City Hall. He was carefully tucked in a battered little crib, which had been wheeled and abandoned in the shadows of the Rockland Avenue entrance. Snugly covered with a warm blanket, the baby had a bottle that he sucked on pensively. A note pinned to the cradle read: Take care of our boy. He is a good boy even if he is big. We just cant feed him no more. PS His birthday is April 23. He is six months old today. We call him Casey. Goodbye and thank u and God bless u. No one knew who his parents were. And now he was no more than just another foundling in the city system. City social services responded quickly. Baby Casey’s birth certificate being untraceable, his social worker hurriedly gave him the surname ‘Rockland’, and the smiling, big-eyed, big-bodied baby went directly into foster care. Passed from home to home, prospective parents seemed to give up very quickly. At first charmed by his beauty, sweetness, clear eyes and blond hair, all gave up rather promptly after discovering just how much baby Casey ate. In time he was transferred into the San Jose Catholic Boys’ Home. There he was looked after by a small platoon of the devoted nuns of the Benedictine Order. Something about him touched the normally cold-hearted sisters, and in short order, they began to feed him as much as he required. Which was a lot. Baby Casey was growing before their eyes. Casey didn’t start to talk until he was nearly 3 years old. His vocabulary consisted of “Yes”, “No”, “Okay”, “Please”, “I’m hungry”, and “I’m still hungry.” By the time he was 4, the sisters sadly noted that Casey was slower than the other boys his age, if much bigger, and generally in need of twice as much food. By age 5, he was already as big and strong as a 10-year old, which required some special clothing and a certain amount of care that he didn’t accidently break things. Even so, Casey was shy and sweet natured, if withdrawn. He always tried to do the right thing and not worry the nuns. The boy had an uncommonly beautiful face, with long, thick lustrous blond hair, and deep set violet eyes with heavy black eyebrows and eyelashes. The kind-hearted Sisters told him quietly about what a handsome man he was going to be when he grew up. “Just be patient,” said Sister Mary Christopher. “Your day will come.” His day hadn’t come yet. The other boys didn’t like him. By the time Casey was 11, his blend of dopey sweetness and a rapidly maturing pre-adolescent body forced unwanted attention onto him. Still the favorite of the sisters, he got the biggest dinners and seemed to receive the most privileges. Even his relative slowness in class didn’t daunt the Sisters’ devotion. He never asked for any special treatment. It just came to him. His size added to his troubles. He knew he could hurt the other boys without meaning to, unless he was very careful, and soon enough, the older, meaner gangs in the home learned that in spite of his size and superior strength, he wouldn’t fight back. The sisters, after all, told him not to. It was more blessed to turn the other cheek. In fact, as Casey grew, it became apparent that he had four cheeks that he could turn. Four of the bigger boys loved to pin him down and administer bare-bottom spankings. And Casey’s supple little butt was nice and ripe for such punishment. In fact, he could take any punishment, feeling somehow that it was his due. And he never told tales. In spite of his increasing size and strength, he was open season for bullies. Over the years, he became a punching bag, a repository for the other boys’ fears and anger. The years passed. Casey went into puberty early. He grew exponentially fast, and the other boys became more wary of him. His strength was already an issue, and often the nuns would catch him testing his strength by lifting tables and bending the iron bars that lined the dank little playground. A bigger problem, however, developed out of the group showers in gym class. Casey’s penis was growing fast, even faster than his strong body. His pants never seemed to fit any more, and it grew harder to hide the developing bulge. To make matters worse, when he was 9 he had started having erections and wet dreams, and sometimes would get excited in class or on the playground or at mess hall. The other boys stared at the growing bulge in his pants, whispered, and pointed, secretly unsure and intimidated. Casey was always baffled by their snickering, half-heard, never-understood jokes. One day one of the older boys had an inspiration on the playground. Staring at Casey’s looming young fly, he called out. “Hey. Banana Man! You getting’ another hard-on?” The other boys roared nastily. “Seems you’re always gittin’ hard-ons, Banana Man! You queer or somethin’?” The name stuck. That was the worst. Casey was now ashamed of his penis. Ashamed and embarrassed. He was always getting hard at the wrong times. He was always being called out by the other boys. It was too big. He couldn’t hide it. And he certainly couldn’t discuss this with the nuns. “Banana Man, Banana Man!” Casey knew they were mocking him, mocking his embarrassingly oversized manhood. He was ashamed and tried to hide himself. And that made the boys laugh even more. When Casey was 12, he had had enough. He was too big, too pretty, ungainly, awkward, lonely, slow-witted and alone. Although he never let the other boys see it, he cried a lot, usually under his bed sheets late at night, stifling his sobs so that the other boys in the dorm room wouldn’t hear him. One night he thumbed through a community free handout magazine he picked up at the corner market to see if he could find – well, anything. The sisters never let the boys use the office computers for mere webs surfing, but he was desperate, and he knew there had to be a place – somewhere – where he could go to vent his frustrations, anxiety, and deep loneliness. He knew he was a freak, but he suspected there might be a place where there were other freaks, like him, where he could find some comfort. There it was. The ad that changed everything. The ad that changed his life. MILES DONOVAN’S RAW WEIGHT GYM HARDCORE BODYBUILDING REASONABLE RATES COME TRAIN WITH THE CHAMPIONS And there was a picture, too, an old one of bodybuilder Lee Labrada. It was enough for Casey. This is what he wanted to look like. This was what he wanted to be. The next morning he begged Sister Mary Alice for extra yard work duty so that he could earn the money to join Raw Weight Gym. He worked all fall late into the evening washing dishes, sweeping floors, emptying the teeming garbage pails in the kitchen. The sisters saw to it that he was paid $125 weekly for his work. “He’s learning responsibility,” said Sister Mary Alice. “He’s preparing to jump the wall,” said Sister Agatha. “Freak….teacher’s pet…..queer,” said the boys. And on day in the spring of 2016, after classes were over for the day at precisely 2:30 PM, he took a bus downtown to join Raw Weight Gym, the hardcore gym owned by the 50-year old retired pro bodybuilder legend Miles Donovan. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going. The nuns knew he was venturing out, however. They trusted that wherever Casey was bound to go, as long as he was quiet, stuck to his chores, was well behaved and responsible, and was back at the rectory in time for dinner, they were not about to get involved. He would be on his own in a few years anyway, the sisters reasoned. Better he began to learn the world now. And secretly, he remained the favorite of all in the order. Chapter 5: Raw Weight Gym Once upon a time, retired pro bodybuilder Miles Donovan might have qualified as one of The Nineteen. But at 55 years of age, with almost 40 years spent in the ranks of competitive bodybuilding, Miles had seen too much the world of competitive muscle up close and personal for way too long. He was done with the competitive end of the iron game. Handsome, cleft-chinned, grey-haired and grizzled with an ever-present two-day growth of beard, and sporting the powerfully thick musculature of a superheavyweight competitor, Miles was still a national phenomenon. His big, hard body was graced with a half dozen fading 1970s-era tattoos, and at 255 pounds, the man proudly boasted the rocky 34-inch waist of a 20-year old. His veined, iron super-abs still served as impressive midsection body armor, his hard pecs still loomed with impressive cuts, and his oversized nipples still sported the brass nipple rings he’d first put on when he hung up his posing trunks for the last time, 15 years before. Better still, Miles had long since stopped shaving his body, and his hardcore daddy physique was lined with a matting of soft black body hair. Miles was stronger than all of the men at his gym, effortlessly curling 225 pounds, squatting 600 and benching 500. His bodyfat index never got much higher than 3%. No, he’d never stop lifting, never stop training as if the contest of his life was just next week. But Miles knew all about the favoritism of the judges and alpha-male insecurities of most other pro bodybuilders. He had been through the health problems, the staggering personal toll taken on most competitive bodybuilders with their litanies of failed relationships, bad business decisions, drugs and violence. A survivor of three scorched-earth divorces, Miles had long since turned his back on blissful domesticity. Now, it was all about his gym – and the private sex games his muscles could still inspire. Always a hustler, Miles had a different magic formula for his survival in the world of muscle. Why not let the muscle fans work for him, he reasoned to himself. Miles was all too familiar with the viciousness of the confidence-challenged muscle worshippers, whose mean-spirited online backstabbing masked profound, unfixable fears, physical inferiority, and personal emotional agonies. He’d seen too many talented, hapless, dog-dumb young musclemen, eager for fame and recognition in the world of competitive muscle, get their hopes and dreams dashed on the rocks of life, their fine physiques spiraling into decay as the years of being used and abused caught up with them and the despair of association with the seedier elements of bodybuilding began to take its inexorable toll. Not for him this downward spiral. And he had no inclination of spending his retirement years in a lab complex headed up by his crazy old friend, Dr. Ira Zaftig, inspiring muscle project or not. After all, he could still get the better any man on the workout floor or take him down in the free-for-all boxing ring; he was known to have a mighty punch. And below the belt he was nicely endowed with a 9-inch penis that liked to come out to play often, for he was well known to particularly enjoy the discreet worship of his teen members. There wasn’t much Miles liked better than when a handsome 18-year old muscletwink pulled down the man’s outward poling sweatpants and enveloped his always-tumescent, thick member between pouty teenage lips. Miles’ Gym, Raw Weight, was cavernous. It sprawled over three floors in a large former warehouse located at the end of an alley in downtown San Jose. Plate glass windows on floors one and two showed lines of cardio machines and stacks of weights. Raw Weight was his baby. He’d carved it out of the world and made it all his own. He had bought the building for a song 20 years before, in 1997, where it had stood, a nearly forgotten emblem to bodybuilding history for nearly 40 years. In it, some of the greats of bodybuilding had once trained at the beginning of their careers. Most had long since retired or moved on to the slick strip mall gym chains that had cropped up across the country since the early 1980s, which now catered to the legends and the weekend bodybuilding hopefuls alike. The steroided goons that had dominated the competition stages for more than three decades may have created their own little scattered fiefdoms, but all the same most who had survived returned (quietly) once or twice a year to the rarefied muscle environment that was Raw Weight Gym. For the first few years he was in business, Miles was always barely one step away from creditors, foreclosure, IRS audits. Then one afternoon, while grimly watching an annoying old gym rat hitting on an unresponsive 22-year old Mexican muscleboy, he hit on a marketing strategy that was, for inner sanctum muscle lovers, just about flawless. All were welcome at Miles’ gym – at least on the first two floors. There, at all hours of the day and night were the teens, the rock-solid gay guys, the strapping young executives, the boxers and the runners and the middle-aged and the muscle wannabes and the flabby former high school athletes and even the merely curious. The vast gym floor clanged with the sound of weights and the whirring of the treadmills, and the house music echoed resoundingly throughout its depths. The showers were always hot, the equipment was dust-free, the machines were new and shiny and well tended, and the floor mats were scrubbed and clean. From a clerestory row at the height of the 16-foot walls large, lines of faded color posters of the bodybuilding legends of the 20th and 21st centuries promised the results of years of muscle-building dedication and discipline. Few lifters on these two floors could ever hope to achieve anything like the muscle density and mass of the gods that beamed down upon them with smug superiority, but spirits were undaunted, and the air was charged with the serious endeavors of those who trained beneath the glare of the merciless fluorescent lights. And then there was the 3rd floor. It was an exclusive and private membership-only club, and it was Miles’ own world of muscle, where he was the unchallenged director and Chairman of the Board. Miles Donovan A passkey, only issued by Miles personally, was available to a very few elite members. The 3rd floor was resolutely men-only. It too was clean and scrubbed, but it was quiet, music-less, and unadorned by the posters of proudly flexing past contest winners. No more than five men trained there at any given time. There was a private entrance through an unmarked door on the street level with an elevator that went directly to 3, so the passkey members didn’t have to be bothered by the stares and curiosity of the comparative plebes found on floors 1 and 2. The rules were clear. The Men of 3, as Miles called them, were required to train, at least during business hours, in tight posing trunks. After hours, they could train naked if they chose. They were even allowed to bring in occasional training partners and visitors of their own choosing, as long as they either a) kept up with the grueling training, or, their non-training guests remained silent, respectful, discreet, observed the rules, remained dressed in a suitable sweatsuit and gym shoes, and paid appropriately. But that wasn’t all. Miles also admitted floor access to a few privately selected well-heeled subscribers. They paid dearly for the privilege. For a few thousand dollars a shot, the subscribing visitors were allowed to indulge in discreet muscle worship while the bodybuilders trained. The rules were clear here, as well. The full-time muscle members who were worshipped were required to train past their pain thresholds on a regular basis. Their progress was reported in weekly time sheets that listed current dimensions, gains, possible injuries, and reported income earned while on the floor. The money was 90% theirs to keep: Miles took the rest of his cut from the paying guests. As keys and membership could be revoked at any time, both musclemen and muscle worshippers were all conscientiously engaged in maintaining their good standing. The specs of the muscle members were clearly understood. All had to have superior muscular development for their weight – Miles did not discriminate in favor of age or the super-huge, and several of the men were either older or bantams. A few men were silver daddies well into their sixties, who looked as if they might have another decade of solid growth ahead of them. The only area where Miles had to lay down a firm law of size requirement was relative to penis length, girth, and weight. Only the well hung were admitted, and although it wasn’t spelled out per se in any charter, the Men of 3 all knew that any new member was unquestionably packing – and talented. Butt fucking was generally discouraged on the workout floor on 3, although there were no active rules against it. Butt fucking tended to be louder and distracting to the men at work, and besides, few had the inclination to offer their well-honed glutes for the pleasure of the visitors – at least, during training hours. What the men did after hours was, of course, their own business, but Miles suspected few wanted to be known as available butt buddies, and that alone kept actual fucking to a minimum. Butt worship, however, wasn’t uncommon, and once or twice a week some lucky guest might be spotted on his knees near the squat rack, his face pressed into the hardened musclebutt of a seasoned member, who might appear to a casual observer to be completely ignoring him. Once Miles was amused to see two muscle members deeply engaged in a serious conversation about quad training while, beneath them and on either side, two eager visitors had their faces deeply buried in their well-rounded glutes. The men were ignoring them. After all, they expected no less. Overall, the system worked surprisingly well. The ranks of the Men of 3 were few, but well chosen. It was also an urban legend to the scores of gay guys on 1 and 2 who might hope and dream, but did not yet have the money or tact to be considered for the occasional foray upstairs. Only the longtime muscle members themselves were allowed in the 3rd floor locker room and showers. The locker room, of course, was a different story, for there the naked musclemen were free to take their pleasure of one another as often as they liked, sucking cock, fucking butt, worshipping the muscles of their training partners, and even engaging in water sports, as long as they mopped up after themselves. Muscle members were not allowed to exchange favors with one another on the floor at any time during the gym’s open hours, but late at night after all visitors had departed for the day, muscle members could train naked if they liked, or in leather, or thongs, or wearing masks – or whatever they preferred. Generally the newer members, once initiated, made use of the free-for-all spirit of after hours, finding other like-minded newbies overwhelmed with personal pride over the honor of having been accepted. However, all the men of 3 made frequent use of the locker room. It was strictly observed that at no time were water sports acceptable on the gym floor, but it wasn’t uncommon to see a smiling, exhausted, fulfilled muscle member pissing a powerful jet stream onto the face and pecs of another satisfied muscle member kneeling before him while they showered. Miles auditioned the men of the 3rd floor himself. He rarely sucked cock – he’d had enough of all that years before, although for a particularly gifted candidate he’d loosen up his own rules, if he happened to be in the mood. His test was far more cut and dried, and, in effect, far more exclusive, even to the point of cruelty. Applicants were subjected to a simple test: Miles would put a bodybuilder through an after-hours grueling workout, and stopping it short without warning just as the man appeared about to drop from pain and exhaustion, demand he immediately drop his shorts. Miles would then measure the flaccid penis, and if it passed the dimension test, take it in his tough, calloused palm and, with a stopwatch in hand, determine the time it took the man to get fully hard. Then, he would measure again to see the full erection length, and demand an ejaculation on the spot. Only one in ten men might make it, although the candidates who displayed promising size and ability, if not able to make the full distance on the first audition, were free to come back and try again whenever they felt up to it. If the men were big enough and hung enough, Miles didn’t mind testing and retesting. If not, no further audition was available, although Miles saw to it that the flunkees were treated with respect and discretion. After all, upon occasion, a hopeful 4F might gain access as a visitor, although he would not be allowed into the ranks of the talented muscle beneficiaries. Of course, he’d also have to pay for access privileges. And the muscle hopefuls, wannabes, worshippers, trainers, pros and future pros came from all over the world just to get a shot at membership at that 3rd floor exclusive aerie of muscle and muscle lovers. And years later, it would have the added notoriety of being the gym where the legendary muscle giant Casey Rockland got his start. -- To be continued --

Davis rushes his way into the lab’s bathroom and locks the door behind him. He feels very strange and wonders if he might have done something earlier in the day to cause such discomfort. After about a minute of walking around the toilet and urinal, he turns to look at himself in the mirror above the sink. His green eyes stare back at him as he makes a few goofy gestures. He rubs his black hair making the brown highlights shine in the lights. He then proceeds to rub his smooth lightly tanned face and takes a few breaths. There are a few knocks on the bathroom door. ‘Dave? What did you do? The tests we have been running seem to be going well, is there something you need to tell me?’ The doctor in charge of Davis’s tests is Ross Bloodstone, a researcher trying to come up with a way to create a stronger protein without any horrible side effects in the food supply. He suspects that Davis may have eaten something he wasn’t supposed to and is possibly about to go through some kind of drastic change. He wants to document what will happen next, but he hopes that Davis can keep himself in check as he goes through with it. ‘Okay Dave. Listen to me carefully. Did you eat some of the honey peanut butter on my desk?’ Davis’s eyes dilate a bit as he listens to the doctor’s questions. He tries not to panic, but it is getting harder to not think about what he has done. ‘Oh shit, oh shit! Damnit Dr. Bloodstone, I could smell it and it sort of summoned me towards it. I grabbed some of the wheat bread on the lunch counter and took it over to the peanut butter. The taste was incredible, I had two sandwiches. Oh fuck, I am going to get really sick now?’ The doctor smiles a bit and pulls up a chair close to where he is standing and sits in it in front of the door. He pulls his tablet out from his lab coat and boots it up to start documenting the whole scenario. ‘Just listen to me okay. You may be experiencing some pain coming from within your body in a little bit, I want you to relax your body for me and keep calm. The peanut butter contains an experimental protein that hasn’t been tested fully on humans yet. We discussed this before remember? I just never told you that it was injected into the peanut butter.’ Davis remembers the conversation and goes to sit over in a corner away from everything. Dr. Bloodstone leans down and peeks under the door to see where the man is sitting and gets back up to sit in his chair. He can hear Davis muttering to himself in a mean tone. ‘Do you feel anything unusual happening to you Dave?’ ‘No doctor, should I come out so you can take a look at me?’ ‘NO DAVE! You stay put this has to be contained in a secure area. Where you are at is perfectly fine.’ Davis starts sweating from his head as it starts to trickle down his face and neck. His grey dress shirt is beginning to look damp from the perspiration forming under his pits. He loosens his blue necktie so he can breathe a little better. He looks down to see if he is sweating from his legs since he is wearing a really nice pair of black trousers and notices a couple of wet spots coming from his quads. He jumps up and starts pacing again. He lets out a few sounds that makes Dr. Bloodstone wonder if he is starting to have trouble keeping it together. ‘Dave? Tell me the truth. Are you feeling a bit strange now? I need to know so I can document the effects.’ Davis stops in his tracks and immediately feels his stomach tighten up on the inside. He wonders if he will start to go through some kind of physical change. He had heard about this through a mutual friend who stated that Bloodstone Labs was into some kind of new biological research. He had volunteered because he needed the cash since his job was only part-time. The odd feeling is starting to move up into his lungs now making him breathe a little deeper and slower. ‘Uhh doctor…..*breathes heavy*…..it is getting harder…..for me to…..breathe. I am…..so fucking scared right now.’ ‘It will be alright Dave, just relax, breathe slowly and let it make its way through you. It will be a slow and methodical process, but it can’t be stopped. You will probably have a sense of panic come over you shortly because it will get to your brain. Just tell me what is happening.’ Davis winces as he feels his abdominal area pop a few times. He thinks that the muscles around his midsection are trying to grow or something and reaches down to rub them from the outside of his shirt. A few small ridges form against his fingers which makes him jump back a bit. His shirt starts to stick to them as they glue themselves to the wet fabric. Several more pops radiate from his pecs as he rushes over to look at his chest in the bathroom mirrors. ‘Ahh……uhhhh damnit…..doctor my chest is popping and I…..think it is trying to swell or something.’ He can see them trying to jump a few times before they start to slowly grow. The space between his pecs and his dress shirt is shrinking as they touch the fabric on his shirt. His nipples protrude and are entirely visible as he stares at them intensely. The sensation of them brushing against his shirt sends tremors down to his crotch as he feels his balls trying to swell. ‘Ohh gawd doctor…..I am feeling so much…..uhhhh sensation……*his legs start swelling*…..oh shit oh shit…..*feels his cock jumping in his boxers*……yep I am panicking doctor…..please make it stop.’ ‘I can’t make it stop Dave, you have to just relax and let it flow through you. Your body is just fulfilling its needs. Don’t worry I am still documenting all of this.’ Davis feels his quads and hamstrings stretching and pulling the fabric in his trousers tighter than before as his cock starts to lengthen and push itself down his right leg. He turns to the side to look at the back of his shirt as he feels his delts and shoulders popping before they start to push his dress shirt up towards his head. His feet have now completely filled his shoes as he hears them starting to rip through the front of the leather. His breathing is now greatly compromised as his entire body is being crushed inside his clothes. His ass is now close to bursting through the back of his trousers as his glutes flex. *heavy breathing* ‘Uhhhh……I can’t speak…..fuck…..i just want out of these clothes…..’ The last parts of Davis to start growing are his arms which sound like air mattresses filling up. The stretching makes the man yell out as the muscles in his forearms swell to the point that his shirt just rips down the seams of his sleeves. Several thick veins are visible over top of the huge baseball-sized muscles that he is staring at in the mirror. He watches intently at his growing biceps and triceps which make quick work of his sleeves. His arms pulse with incredible power as he studies their vascularity. He raises his arms up which makes his lats bust through the sides of his shirt. The huge wings flare out and rip the armpits completely open. The massive hairy pits reek of testosterone which immediately reaches Davis’s nose. He can feel his mind starting to change as his quads and ass destroy his boxers and trousers. The dense leg muscles spill out of the open seams as his calves continue to grow. His shoes disintegrate under the pressure of his growing feet. ‘RRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAWWWWRRRRR!’ The man flexes his chest as every shirt button goes flying in the air. His immense pecs destroy the front of his shirt as he watches himself expand in the mirror. He tears the rest of the shirt off to admire his upper body. The veins in his neck have doubled in size as his face and head thicken. His cock drools precum on the ground as it dangles off to the side. His calves break free from their confines which cause his trousers to just blow in the wind. He grunts and yanks the rest of the fabric off his lower body and stares at himself in the mirror. *still grunting* ‘FUCK YEAH! GAWD I HAVE NEVER FELT SO FUCKING FREE! *flexes his 20” pythons* MMMMM I AM SO FUCKING HORNY! *does a most muscular* FUUUCCCKKKK! RAWR! Doctor, you have given me the greatest gift ever. I want more! Will I get even bigger than this?’ Dr. Bloodstone keeps silent to try and step away from the door. He then rushes into a nearby room that is insulated to prevent anything from getting in. He shuts the door behind him and moves over to a station full of monitors. He turns on the one that overlooks the bathroom and activates a speaker. He can see the 275 pound hulk standing in front of the bathroom mirrors completely soaked from head to toe stroking his 11” tool and grunting. ‘Dave, listen to me. You are letting your inhibitions get the best of you, I want you to try and not get carried away with this. The protein is probably building up in your testicles now so do me a favor and cum for me so we can finish this.’ Davis looks up at the camera and laughs in his new deep voice. He walks over to it and makes his cock swing back and forth slapping his quads. He growls and does a double bicep pose. ‘Come on doctor, why don’t you come in here and play with me. I won’t hurt you too badly I promise. So you are telling me that if I cum, then this will cause me to shrink back to where I was?’ Bloodstone pauses for a few moments and speaks. ‘Well Davis, I really have no idea. All I know is, you consumed enough of the protein to cause a 100 pound growth cycle to occur and it released your mind from its restraints. You’re cognizant which is good, but I don’t trust you.’ Davis makes motions with his huge hands like he is summoning the doctor down. ‘Doctor?…..Ross?…..come play with me…..I will just get upset if you don’t come back and destroy that puny door that is supposed to keep me in here. You know I will just try and find the rest of that peanut butter because I want to fucking grow out of this building. FUCK! That makes me so damn horny just thinking about it.’ Bloodstone realizes that he has left the key components of his formula out on the lab floor and opens the door to run after them. At the same time, he hears Davis bashing in the bathroom door. After three punches, the huge bodybuilder’s veiny forearm goes through the wood and reaches down to rip the door handle completely out. The frantic doctor quickly shuffles through his vials and grabs potions and liquids before racing back into the panic room. Davis breaks down the door and races down the hall towards the doctor. He is not fast enough to get there as Bloodstone manages to lock it down. Davis pounds relentlessly on it and yells in disgust. After a few seconds he stops pounding and just stands there. He laughs and wonders if Bloodstone can see him in the hallway. ‘So……can you see me doctor? What are you trying to keep from me? I just want to play. I won’t hurt you because I know you can fucking grow me into a gawd. *can smell the peanut butter* *starts laughing* You didn’t take it? Are you kidding me?’ Davis walks over to it on the lunch table and picks it up. He finds a camera above his head and waves the jar at it. He opens the lid up and scoops some of it out. He smiles and rubs it on his huge sweaty cock. He strokes it a few times and moans before laughing again. ‘Does it absorb doctor? I fucking love the fact that you left this out. What are you up to? You want me to fucking hulkout don’t you? *looks down at his cock and sees it spilling precum all over the floor* Oh fucking yeah, my body is so hungry for this. Say goodbye to your lab doctor because I am getting ready to tear this place apart.’ Before he licks his fingers he stops and looks up at the camera again in the lunch area. He gets one of the chairs from a nearby table and pushes it up to the wall where the camera is. He stands up on it and looks directly into the camera. His deep green eyes sparkle as he cocks his head to the side and smirks. He flexes one of his huge guns and leans over to kiss it before running his tongue all around it. He moans each time he does this. Then he turns back around and looks into the camera again. ‘Why would you let me do this doctor? I think you are getting your rocks off on this myself…..or……you are wanting me to rampage out in the middle of the city and fucking hurt people. Yeah…..I think that is it. I’m on to you, Doctor Bloodstone.’ He grabs the camera and rips it completely off the mount on the wall. Bloodstone tries to flip a few buttons to find another nearby camera but Davis is nowhere to be seen. The doctor goes on to the loudspeaker to reach the entire complex to get Davis’s attention. ‘Dave, listen to me. Just calm down and I will be out in a little bit. We can figure something out on how to resolve your issue I promise.’ Before he can get another word in, he hears a huge crash come from the other side of the room and realizes that Davis has found another way in. The bodybuilder is heard moving his way through one of the vents in the ceiling which makes the doctor try to go out the front entrance. The door doesn’t budge though which makes him really nervous. After a few seconds, the doctor grabs his potions and runs into the supply closet located nearby. Davis falls through the ceiling and lands on his feet. He roars in delight as debris sticks to his body. He tosses the jar of peanut butter over to the side to where he can get to it again. ‘I know for a fact doctor that you are in here because I bent the door frame to this room so that you couldn’t get out. Now come out from where you are so we can have a discussion.’ There is no response from the doctor which aggravates Davis. He rips up one of the monitor stations and growls flexing his huge muscles. ‘FUCK! I think I may have to eat some more of that peanut butter. My body really wants to fucking destroy this room. You are forcing me to make a dangerous decision Bloodstone. Get the fuck out here right now!’ The supply room door opens and Bloodstone walks out. Davis gets an evil grin on his face and starts to walk over to him. The doctor sweats profusely before walking backwards into the supply room again. ‘DOCTOR BLOODSTONE, stop moving right now. You are going to feel me up whether you want to or not.’ The doctor is face to face with the huge man and reaches out to feel the huge pulsing veins in his arms. Davis flexes them making the muscles swell. Bloodstone calmly runs his hands up and down them which makes Davis moan deeply. The big man takes the doctor’s hands and puts them on his heaving pecs which are continuously dripping sweat. He bounces them making the doctor grin a little. ‘You look amazing Dave and I think you can be happy looking like this. I just don’t understand why you didn’t already consume the peanut butter. What changed in you to make you have to think about it?’ Davis picks him up and looks him directly in the eyes. ‘Ohh I am definitely going to eat it doctor, I just want to try out an experiment of my own too.’ To be continued…..

The first two chapters of my muscle novel-in-progress, The Twenty. Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "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 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 the twentieth muscle god, young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 19-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 need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decades-long Project, itself only now beginning to suggest its full potential. Introduction The 3-story steel, glass, and concrete compound was snugly nestled in the misty rural hills that rolled gently inland from the ocean, where the Santa Ana winds met the hot air rising from the distant desert to the east. Poised at the edge of the highest peak of the Santa Cruz Mountains, the 4,000-acre gated complex was just barely visible from the discreet entrance on Pacific Coast Highway below. A single sign stood at the locked automatic entrance gate, reading - Private No Outlet The private drive wound up the mountain, snaking through dark woods of redwood and pine, finally arriving at the labyrinth of vine-covered high concrete walls, topped with barbed wire, which surrounded the entire complex. Closed circuit cameras marked every turn of the road. Manicured lawns and open fields could be occasionally glimpsed through thick veils of leaves, branches and red rock. 350 miles south was Los Angeles. San Jose was the closest city, 30 miles away. Local residents drove past the gate on Pacific Coast Highway, wondering about the mysterious multi-million dollar complex. The place had seemed to spring up overnight, seemingly from nothing, more than 10 years before. The traffic in and out was largely limited to food delivery and supply vans. Unseen generators hummed through the night. The people who worked there appeared to be in residence. Was it an athletic training facility? Low planes flying overhead clearly identified a likely indoor Olympic-sized swimming pool, bicycle trails, playing fields, and more. There were also a few outer buildings that appeared to be well-appointed dormitories, with small lawns and private drives. A building attached to the central core might possibly be a central hall, with sizable private, enclosed terraces open to the sky. Convoys of SUVs, all bearing the logo VALHALLA LABS were parked in a half-empty parking lot in front of the main building. Occasionally local delivery men, bringing whole sides of raw beef, fresh vegetables, lab equipment, chemicals, electrical supplies, and – this was the most perplexing part – hundreds of tons of expensive exercise equipment would spot one or two dozen young men on bicycles, pedaling furiously through the high hills, always followed at a discreet distance by an unmarked black car and by the one of the SUVs. From a distance the men on the bicycles appeared to be unusually large. In any event, the local deliverymen weren’t talking. Most would just shrug and say they didn’t know. Besides, they’d signed a confidentiality agreement barring their conversation about what they might happen to observe within. And since no one appeared unduly nervous about the place, over the years the matter dropped. Still, the rural locals who hung out at the motorcycle bars and music clubs nestled deep in the hills continued to buzz. Most assumed that it was some kind of military base and laboratory. Others noted the apparent residence buildings from the air, and thought it was either a private Olympic training compound, or some kind of crazy health nut cult commune. Certainly it was neither a prison nor a university. But no one really knew what it was. And over the years, little by little, the mysteriously well-tended commune was enveloped in the mists of revered local mystery, a legend the hill people of the coast, who were mostly Northern California biker clubs, surfers, horsemen, and artichoke farmers, relished and loved, without knowing anything about it. Remote, mysterious, un-Google-able, not listed on any map, no one really knew what the place was, and even less was understood. However, since it was apparent that no nuclear waste was being discharged, no one worried. No one appeared on either San Jose or San Francisco streets with appeals to join some far-out religion. No shots were fired in the night. And because, in fact, the whole compound was refreshingly green, paid its local bills on time, and was mysteriously quiet at night, for years no one really worried about the place. If only they had known it was the wellspring of the Fountain of Eternal Youth. Or, as it came to be called years later, after all the fuss and scandal and stories had finally faded into the misty aura of legend – the Lourdes of Bodybuilding. ********* This is the story about the day that it all changed forever. THE TWENTY A Government Issue Adult Cartoon -XXX- Muscle Fantasy By Joey Silverado This book is dedicated to Tiny Yokum – and to all his fans, past, present, and future. From Dr. Warren Irving’s Notes List sorted according to date of entry into program. Click tables to see details. Chapter 1: Project Herculaneum October 20th, 2021 1855 Hours In Valhalla Labs’ 15,000 square foot soundproofed gym, 18 of the longtime test subjects of Project Herculaneum were approaching the second hour of their balls-to-the-wall workout. On the west wall, one-way visibility windows framed the magnificent mountaintop panoramas in the growing twilight. As the sun disappeared, the glass increasingly glowed with the golden reflections of a roomful of massive male musculature. The workout floor crackled with the sounds of iron clangs, grunts, groans, and ecstatic roars of pain, shouts and taunts. The air was thick with hot sweat, crotch and armpit smell. Low ranking solders in the US Army, and ranging in age from 20 to 45, the 18 were, to use the argot of the world of male bodybuilding, freaks. Huge muscle freaks. Animals. Swole. Jacked to the balls. ‘Roided to the tits. Except that they weren’t ‘roided at all. Every man on the squad was clean and clear of the usual bodybuilding drugs required to build massively muscled specimens of uncommon size and strength. And they weren’t just conventionally “huge” either. All of the soldiers of Project Herculaneum were fired by one supplement only. P21. And Project Herculaneum, now approaching the end of its first decade, was finally yielding the astonishing results promised from the beginning back in 2007. The Project Director and Genius Factotum, Dr. Ira Zaftig, had long dubbed his lab creation enzyme P21, “The Fountain of Youth.” The wellspring of eternal energy, strength, youth, beauty, and sexual power. Perhaps the secret of life itself. The Men of Project Herculaneum thought of P21 differently, though. “It’s the straightest line between two mostly unreachable points: freaky muscle, and ba-boom!” Or so said Private 1st Class Dan Gunst, a 6’-10”, 375-pound mountain of ripped muscle whose growth on the enzyme had surprised even project founder Zaftig. Off to one side, the 19th man on the squad squatted on a bench and closely surveyed the men's training with half-lidded eyes. By far the largest man in the room, CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster’s muscular perfection was unparalled, even in this room of freakishly huge men. Squared-jawed and blindingly handsome, 44-year old Rod Moster was 7’- 0” tall, weighing in at 395 ripped and shredded pounds, a black mountain of solidly ridged muscle: deeply separated, profoundly striated sheer muscle mass, boasting a body fat index of 1.2%. Dr. Zaftig was the heart and genius creator of Project Herculaneum. The squad and their CO were the ongoing subjects of his personally supervised “Top Secret” project. For years, the men had been receiving regular lab-controlled injections of Zaftig’s carefully developed muscle growth enzyme, P21. Sergeant Moster, on the enzyme for more than a decade, was the project’s powerful senior officer and unopposed trainer. Yet in spite of Moster's formidable size and strength, he was soon to be equaled by two of the soldiers in his direct command, Corporal Karim Abdul and Private Gunst. He knew it, too. The workout room met Moster’s strict standards. Room temperature was always set exactly at 90o. Moster would not allow air-conditioning on the workout floor. After all, sweat lubricates muscles and encourages growth. No one disputed Moster's rules. On a sprung workout floor measuring 10,000 square feet, there were two dozen squat racks, 42 benches, 8 rows with hundreds of dumbbells ranging from 5 to 300 pounds, and hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of gleaming machines, standing bicycles, elliptical tracks, cable racks, ropes, belts, grips, and stacks of weights. Hundreds and hundreds of tons of weights. In the distant corners of the gym, a few normal-sized Valhalla lab assistants scurried silently in the shadows with video equipment, towels, heavy water jugs, and cleaning equipment. The men on the floor never paid any attention to the pipsqueak lab rats, as they called them. Occasionally, one of the pipsqueaks meekly approached Sgt. Moster with questions or a need for direction. Moster was always gracious, brief and business-like with lab underlings. They were Zaftig’s people, after all, and he appreciated that it just might be difficult to recruit them. More importantly, the lab rats were not, after all, muscle worshippers. Geeky science majors somehow matriculated from Berkeley and Stanford, their applications for their employment were most thoroughly scanned to determine both their dedication to science, and their lack of sexual interest in the project subjects. Past circumstances had indicated that the men of Project Herculaneum were unusually vulnerable when it came to the possibilities implied by muscle worshippers. The less of that from outsiders, the better. For now, anyway. Besides, there was real money to be made with the advent of worship. That would come later. Above all, Moster didn’t want to water down the future possibilities. Some day, when all this was over, there was a lot of money to be made. Moster was counting on it. Under his leadership, the goals of his 18 musclemen were never ending, their focus never dulled by the daily routine of their sequestered lives inside the Valhalla Compound. And for Moster, it was all about building muscle. Solid, rock-hard, healthy, powerful muscle. Muscle supported by bones and internal organ strength. Whereas Dr. Zaftig was compelled to his daily grind of endless lab research and observation of the men by his quest for eternal youth, Moster was not distracted by such vague, high-minded creationist illusions. All Moster cared about was that his men develop huge, serious, ripped, dominant, clean, overpowering muscle, muscle like the world had never seen before. Moster relished the fact that his extraordinary development was still a constant inspiration to his men. He generally preferred to remain completely covered, rarely choosing to display his magnificent physique. His custom-built oversized sweatsuits were carefully tailored to camouflage his physique while not hindering movement. They were heavily reinforced at the seams to avoid tears and bursting, and were neutral in construction and color. The sweat pants were gathered into tight stretch bands at Moster’s ankles. He generally wore combat boots and a white do-rag. But even the careful design of more than 25 yards of a blend of durable synthetics and heavy cotton couldn’t disguise Moster’s 60-inch wide shoulder girth, 7'-6" reach, 70-inch chest, 36-inch quadriceps and 25-inch calves. An observer might only be able to guess at the Sergeants’ biceps, triceps, and brachialis size. Moster chose to wear his sweatshirt loose, masking a slender, powerfully shaped 32-inch waistline. He never tucked it in, always making certain he was successfully covering his crotch. He had his reasons for this, which were well known by his men. Whenever Moster appeared in uniform, or civilian clothing, his appearance was all but terrifying – and, at the same time, insanely alluring. Rod Moster's boxing, wrestling, and extreme fighting skills were superior to all but Corporal Karim. Moreover, by now in this stage of team development, Moster found he had to work harder than his men in order to maintain the very slight edge he still held. Zaftig knew this, much to Moster’s subtle discomfort. He knew could be unseated by the right man at any time. Project Herculaneum was that far along. He remained proud of his team, knowing as he did that some day soon they might surpass him. When it became apparent to all that his long-held edge over the others was narrowing, a few of the men privately anticipated the day that he might finally be bested by one of the 18. The bets were on Karim Abdul, though Abdul had no particular vendetta against Moster; all the same, it would be a day of reckoning for the alpha CO, to atone for some of the more painful and humiliating extra-curricular disciplines he had long enforced. Hey, as long as that day doesn’t come too soon, he would joke in the mess hall. And all would laugh, even as they exchanged meaningful glances. Moster’s dedication to Project Herculaneum was total, even if it did lead him to occasionally lock horns with the dreamy, physically underdeveloped senior genius Dr. Zaftig. The 67-year old Zaftig was both crafty and kind-hearted. Though he held a basic unshakable respect for all, he was not above manipulating the men’s fragile psyches to get what he wanted out of them, and he made it a priority to know and understand all of them for their personal strengths and weaknesses. Over the years, it had been hard work finding and inducting these particularly gifted men into the program, and, once introduced, each man represented years of painstaking research, investment, time and testing. It was only right that he would pay close attention to what made each man tick. On the other hand, Moster preferred to accent his authority with an occasional dash of cruelty. He felt it was good for the team. After all, life was cruel, wasn’t it? And so together, Zaftig and Moster had forged a decade-long alliance of good cop/bad cop, each man sharing in his own personal way a common goal. Both cared only for the success of Project Herculaneum. At base, however, they held profoundly different motives. Zaftig hoped to find the perfect candidate for P21. As magnificent as the 19 men were, the final, perfect genetic recipient of the miraculous compound had yet to be discovered. Sergeant Moster, meanwhile, had other plans. All those worship sessions loomed ahead on a promising horizon of money, power, travel, and new opportunities. After all, Moster wasn’t a fool. Zaftig might be, but he certainly wasn’t. Chapter 2: P21 1987-2021 Ira Zaftig’s 2007 successful lab synthesis of Protein P21 promised nothing less than a physical revolution for all mankind. For more than 30 years, the eccentric, obsessed, and touched with genius, Harvard Med educated Dr. Ira Zaftig had parlayed a vast inherited private fortune and the proceeds of his own lucrative San Francisco medical practice into ongoing lab research and experiments. At first, he sought to develop nothing less than an injectable synthetic that would, of course, cure cancer. The usual dream of every young medical researcher, the youthful and wealthy Zaftig, heir to a lumber empire long sold to a larger conglomerate for a lifetime profit that elevated him into the 1%-ers, had the means to set up a private lab to do it. Over the years, that cure for cancer evolved into something else. As he aged, Zaftig grew more interested in creating a formula permanently extending youth, while enhancing physical strength and systemic health. The years passed with no result. Zaftig grew more obsessed, and eventually discarded his practice. He never married and avoided personal relationships, building an impressive private lab in the Santa Rosa Mountains outside San Jose. And he became a hermit whose life routine was only about continual research, testing, developing, synthesizing, note-taking, and video review. He amassed a team, whose job it was to test protocol after protocol on lab rats, guinea pigs, and rhesus monkeys. None of the animals, he was satisfied to note, were ever harmed by his injections, but none ever exhibited any permanent signs of renewed vigor, either. It was as if they were injected by harmless placebos. Over time, lab teams noted some temporary strength and health benefits in some, not all, of the lab animals. The effects were temporary, at best, and it was difficult to determine which animal might feel the effects, and which ones would not. Zaftig assumed sympathetic systems were required for any effects at all to take place. By 1998, Zaftig had engaged as his permanent first assistant the all but silent, studious, equally hermetic Dr. Warren Irving, whose natural reticence disguised fervor equal to Zaftig’s. By then, Zaftig’s ever-growing lab employed small army of coming-and-going lab workers, security personnel and personal administrators, whose silence and trust was purchased with time-stamped temporary employment terms, astonishing starting salaries and carefully drafted legal confidentiality contracts, were on hand in the continually refurbished lab facility, now enlarged into a complex of some size. Since Zaftig was seeking the creation of a God, he appropriately named his ever-growing facility Valhalla Labs. At first, in the specialized world of pure research outside the lab, ‘Zaftig’s Folly’, as came to be referred to, was an unending in-joke on the perils of vanity research. However, it was equally observed that any man or woman who had served in Zaftig’s lab emerged silent, circumspect, and deeply respectful about what went on within. Over the years, the jokes stopped, and by the late 1990s, ambitious young researchers hoped to spend a few seasons at the secluded lab, if for only to slake curiosity – and to make a lot of money. Still, the lab had produced nothing. No patents had been applied for. On it went, year after year. Then, after 30 years of steady non-production, in 2003 the 53-year old Zaftig had a breakthrough. A crop of lab male lab animals appeared dramatically invigorated by a trial run of newly developed formula. Careful notations of animal behavior indicated that the rejuvenation of the lab animals was deeply organic in nature. Most importantly, after protocols were ceased, the effects remained. And the animals grew surprisingly. They did not become monsters, but measured, in some cases, a quarter larger in size and weight than they were at the outset. They were somewhat more aggressive, too, but, as all were relieved to note, did not become, maddened, dangerous or even slightly mean. In fact, personal handlers reported that the animals appeared “cheerful” and “playful.” They also, when allowed, copulated with the other males, and sometimes the females, almost continuously. This was noted by Zaftig, who duly recorded it. Dr. Irving felt Zaftig somewhat ignored the sinister implications. After a year of continually successful lab animal results in select males, it was finally time for the first human trial. Zaftig, ever the Henry Jekyll tried P21on himself. The results were disastrous: violent vomiting, nosebleeds and headaches forced Zaftig into a week of bed rest. “Wrong genetics,” he had to admit to himself. He assumed the formula was a failure for humans, and lived in despair for weeks. Once recovered, he volunteered for trial his chief lab assistant, the meek, complicit, and nearly silent Dr. Irving. The injection nearly killed him. In sympathetic systems, it was as if evolution was sped up 10,000 years. P21 was capable of creating nothing less than jaw-dropping gigantism, coupled with glowing organic health, visually stunning physical perfection, astonishing strength, grace, speed, coordination, and renewed sexual energy. It only worked on X-Y heterogametic chromosome pairings – that is to say, on human males. Moreover, at this point in its development, it was successfully observed in very few subjects. Because of the necessary secrecy of the project, Zaftig lacked proper comparative controls, but by his estimation, he calculated P21 to be beneficial for only 1 out of every 1,000 men. However, for that one recipient, the sky was the limit. Zaftig finally saw the light on a subject for whom the formula might work when he met Rod Moster. That was in 2006. Moster was facing prison then, charged with manslaughter. Zaftig had heard all about the man’s prodigious muscularity, and got him the best defense money could buy. Moster served 1 year, and was released. Zaftig awaited him at the prison gates, ready to whisk him away to the Santa Rosa Mountains, to another kind of a prison, and yet one that Moster would soon relish. And so, in 2007, Rod Moster (soon to be Sergeant, USAC, hurriedly and secretly enlisted) became Project Herculaneum’s first official entrant. The already competition-trained superheavyweight bodybuilder Moster took to P21 like a duck to water – or, rather, like gasoline to fire. And Moster beat even Zaftig’s greatest expectations. Muscles bloomed on muscle. Strength quadrupled. Now that he had a perfectly responsive candidate, Zaftig was eager to find another. Later in 2007, another superheavyweight bodybuilder, the near-silent Turkish giant Abdul Karim, was discovered at Raw Weight, the hardcore San Jose gym owned by 50-year old retired pro bodybuilder legend Miles Donovan. Immediately whisked into the program, Moster and Karim trained like madmen in the Valhalla Labs compound, where a new gym was put into construction just for the two of them. They didn’t much like one another, but that led to heightened competition, tension, anger, and, inevitably, greater muscle growth. And now Zaftig could make some truly accurate notes on the success of P21 in sympathetic systems. Zaftig observed in his lab notes that it was as if the full assimilation of P21 triggered alterations in deep genetic timestamp coding. It was exactly as if the body suddenly redefined its male development to date as late ‘childhood’, and began to take itself into something like a new ‘adolescence’, blooming into a new definition of ‘adulthood’. Consequently, accompanied by proper training and consistent regulation of nutrition and rest cycles, muscular growth was not just enhanced; it was prompted into a supersonic explosion unlike anything Zaftig had anticipated. As intended in trial development, P21 was, in effect, nothing less than a miracle formula, successful beyond Zaftig’s wildest imaginings. He was still tinkering with it in the lab, however, in hopes that somehow he might find the key to more universal acceptance, including female development. The injected enzyme boosted performance, it seemed, only in those recipients whose natural dopamine and endorphin levels had already reached a certain high capacity, following either years of regular workouts, or a monitored high-intensity training in very young, genetically predisposed teens. Moreover, once on the enzyme and going forward, steroids, regular insulin injections, pain blockers, and growth hormone proved not only unnecessary, but also potentially dangerous. A protocol of P21 worked best on a naïve system, or, at the very least, a metabolism cleaned over time from the longtime effects of other injectables. Mental acuity was not diminished, but then again, it wasn’t improved, either. At first, Zaftig had been disappointed P21 didn’t produce intellectual giants as well, but in time he accepted it. After all, as long as subjects weren’t rendered newly stupid by the protocol, and followed orders, he accepted that it wasn’t really an issue. It was about muscles and strength, not smarts. More subjects were introduced into the program. By 2011, the men in the program included competitive bodybuilders Rene Lefevre, Herman Schumacher, Anthony Chad, Derek Washington, and William Obatu. Muscle monsters all at the outset, and mostly discovered by Miles Donovan, as each man moved into the compound and began the training and the protocols, their size and strength increased with rapid gains measureable almost daily. Most astonishingly, perhaps, was the measurable growth in each man’s height. Over time, all recipients grew anywhere from 2 to 5 inches taller. The skeletal structure itself was affected by regular injections of P21, and bones lengthened and thickened throughout each man’s body. The principal area of bone growth appeared to be in the legs, but even the arm bones slightly lengthened. A 6’-0” man with a finger-to-finger reach of 6’-3” before injections was gradually able to reach a length of 5 inches in addition to his newly gained height. The lengthened arms, of course, gave the men a slightly ape-like appearance, with the tips of their fingers now brushing the patella of each kneecap. However, the men did not become ungainly as a result, seemed to grow at the same time in natural grace and motor coordination. Muscular density almost doubled, strength nearly quadrupled, subcutaneous fat tissue was nearly eliminated. Muscular separations, ripples, cuts, and deep tissue striations appeared where before, even on a beautifully developed physique, there had been nothing but smoothness. Muscles roiled and bloomed with magnificent grace. Even symmetry improved; it was as if the muscular system had developed an over-all critical eye as to the proper balance and sweep necessary for each man to remain at optimum performance levels. Even so, with the loss of subcutaneous fat, waist size was stunningly diminished. Within six months of starting injections, a formerly 200 pound muscular man with a standard 34” waistline would find himself sporting a mere 30” at his midsection, with his rectus abdominus muscles and lower obliques newly reknit into interlocking, striated layers of shapely support musculature, easily able to carry the newly burgeoning upper body mass. His bodyweight would shoot up at least 20 pounds, all of it lean muscle mass. Fast-twitch and slow-twitch muscles were affected alike: a man on P21 was not only able to lift almost impossibly heavy weights, but run like the wind. Motor-nerve coordination profoundly improved. Endurance was beyond imagining. Although the subjects’ diets were kept clean, this appeared to have little effect one way or the other. As long as the men were regularly fed full meals six times a day, and drank a quotidian 3 gallons of water, then diet itself was moot. However, to maintain the psychological fiction that diet was still “important”, food selections were limited to lean meats, arrays of vegetables and proper complex carbs. The men held the “no veggies” diets of standard, “middle earth” bodybuilders in profound contempt. “If it’s green, it’s good,” was the mantra. With the six meals a day and the explosion of muscle growth, human waste products predictably doubled. The men seemed to require 30 minutes daily for proper excretion. Each man found himself pissing rivers of bright, clean urine. Happily, their digestion systems were as efficient as could be hoped for, and pleasure-filled howls filled the residence halls periodically as the men eagerly shat their meals. “A good shit is like great sex,” Obatu observed. Pissing was as pleasurable, for as powerful as their kidneys were, each man produced ropes of healthy white piss, like clockwork, 5 times a day. Their glowing prostate health allowed them to empty their bladders thoroughly with each resoundingly copious piss. A man on P21 would also exhibit astonishing skin health. Blemishes and scars faded to nothingness. The men’s complexions glowed as if powered by an inner laser. Hair health flourished, and though some of the men on the protocol preferred to shave their heads, it was not for a lack of healthy follicles. Even the bald Sergeant Schumacher, hairless as a wombat when he entered the program, was delighted to see his full head of hair restored within six months. Later, however, in response to other psychological effects, he chose to shave it off daily. Normal pain thresholds decreased proportionately. Sleep cycles were not affected. Over time, any already-accomplished athlete’s natural talents were likely to be exponentially sharpened. Newly recorded performance benchmarks surpassed any previous personal best. In short, the benefits were astounding - provided the recipient was initially genetically gifted to begin with, and had already achieved a certain performance level. Once P21 had been introduced into the system, after 3 years of weekly injections, Zaftig had discovered the protocol must be carefully monitored, and in some cases, stopped for periods of time. Not everyone developed at the same rate. Once the protocol was stopped, the successful manifesting effects enjoyed by the recipient to date would not be lost, but any continuing development would slow and finally stall. However, to avoid trauma, the project’s subjects weren’t informed of this, and several of the older men had been receiving intermittent placebos for years, in order to avoid a state of psychological withdrawal. More seriously, and although Zaftig was not yet certain of the veracity of his latest finding, he was keen to observe with a continued injection schedule, that the men’s aging processes seemed to stop entirely. This is the most sensitive of all the information he gathered, and the top-secret introduction of placebos disguised the anti-aging effects for the older men in the project. It was critical that this be kept a closely guarded secret. Was part of P21’s astonishing potential the end of natural aging? Zaftig was at war with himself on this point. As a scientist, he was elated. As a sympathetic human being, he was appalled. No one but he and the deeply trusted Dr. Irving were aware of indications that P21 was The Fountain of Youth. And just as P21 seemed to promise unending anti-aging, not all of the other developmental effects could be anticipated. Nor were they, in fact, terribly convenient. Its extraordinary properties included some rather startling, not to say unexpected, priapic side effects, which had first manifested themselves in the first guinea pig lab rat Sergeant Moster, nearly 15 years before. Since then, as new men successfully entered the project, different results were recorded for different recipients. All the same, universally P21 provided something like miraculous growth and enhancement for all who responded to it. Even now, in 2021, Zaftig could only guess how it might manifest itself in different subjects. Zaftig didn’t really want to deal with the complexity of the multiple sexual side effects. For there were surprising sexual benefits as well. After all, a physically evolving male always experiences a coinciding change in sexual stats and activity. What he had not anticipated was the dramatic extent of these changes. Zaftig discovered it not long after he first tried it out on Moster in 2007. The most observable immediate change was the startling increase in genital size. At the outset of his induction into the program, Rod Moster’s penis was already unusually large, looming forth when erect at a majestic 8 inches. While impressive on most men, all the same for a muscleman of Moster’s size and development, in appearance, it came off as merely average. All that changed once Moster entered the program. Six months after beginning the P21 protocol, even when flaccid, Moster’s penis measured just over 10 inches. When erect, it approached 16 inches. Midnight black, cobra-thick, and lightly laced with a cross section of interlocking capillaries shooting off from two pulsing central shaft veins, it had become a dangerous, dazzlingly beautiful machine. In fact, Moster’s penis had become a weapon. While he was delighted with his newly gargantuan cock, it presented him no end of trouble. For one thing, there was simply no hiding it in his clothing. His dress slacks uniform trousers had been custom-fitted to accommodate his massive quads, glutes, hamstrings and calves. Now, unless he wore specially designed rubber mesh briefs under his slacks that firmly restrained him, his slack member lay lazily on his quads, with muffled slapping against his thighs as he walked. The flies of all his clothing had to be forged from blue steel, and even so, were doubly reinforced to prevent bursting from the strain. Standard bodybuilding posing trunks were all but impossible if he wanted to remain covered; his cock and balls simply didn’t fit in any pouch. Most of the time, Moster chose to wear ultra-baggy sweats, with the sweatshirt hanging down to his thighs to cover the always-looming member. Otherwise, it was all just too distracting. Over time, Dr. Zaftig discovered that for all enrollees into the program, the size of the subject’s genitalia similarly grew to outlandishly large proportions. A man with average endowment was soon delighted to note that his organ, when flaccid, enlarged half again in length, girth, and stamina. A man considered ‘well hung’ at the outset would enjoy even greater growth. But that wasn’t all. Moster quickly realized a greater sexual appetite to match his newly achieved girth. Soon after injections began, normal societal behavioral blockers that prevent many men from acting on their fantasies all but vanished. Deeply buried sexual fantasies began to seem not merely attainable, but regularly actionable. Over time, the sexual activity of the subject became an all-pervasive cycle of, at first, increasing need, accompanied by a single-minded determination to fulfill the fantasy. Moreover, it was apparent that the recipients of P21 responded with particularly heightened sexual energy and passion to other recipients of the enzyme. So-called heterosexuality was no longer an issue: choice was abandoned. The men needed close supervision to keep their sexual activity confined to the proper hours, settings, and duration. And it took some doing to keep the men in line. Of course, any partner was possible for the men. As long as their muscles were the source of longing, they were eager to spread their copious seed in any number of ways, among any number of partners. Fortunately, a psychological fail-safe was built into the men’s newly ripening sexual psyches. The men were at their most vulnerable when presenting their muscularity to outsiders. Always able to leap into swift action, whether fighting, flexing, posing, Zaftig discovered after some carefully administered lab control tests that if the men were confronted with levels of apparent sexual unresponsiveness from observers, their sexual impulses were notably dampened. While their overall athletic, training, and bodybuilding prowess was never diminished, the translation of muscle energy into unfettered sexual energy did not occur unless observers explicitly expressed longing. In other words, the men needed to be sexually worshipped, gawked at, touched, stroked, admired and longed for in order to become aroused. They needed to flex their powerful biceps and rotate their mountainous quads for the stunned and appreciative. It was slightly ironic, therefore, that these astonishing physical specimens of undeniable Alpha males were, actually, subservient to the atmosphere of admiration. Indifference seemed to cow the men into silence and confusion – all except Sergeant Moster, of course, whose internal sexual battery was always on full charge levels. Fortunately, for the orderly continuation of Project Herculaneum, Sergeant Moster was aware of what he called “the Kryptonite effect” on his men. He could douse their sexual energy easily with a disparaging glance or an offhand comment. The small army of resident support staff, facilities associates, cafeteria and maintenance personnel, and office and lab workers were duly advised not to show any sexual interest in the men on any level. Zaftig himself was never troubled by the issue. Proud of his men, he nevertheless seemed to regard them as his “boys”, growing adolescent sons, in whom he had nothing but the purest parental love, devoid of any sexuality. Moster was more than well qualified to handle that job. Zaftig took a step back, promising himself that “some day” he’d approve a comprehensive study on P21 and sex. Over time, the psychological benefits had proved addictive. In other words, P21 was crack cocaine for bodybuilders. Any man receiving regular injections of P21 had to be handled with extreme care and caution, which necessitated a largely cloistered lifestyle. They were simply not ready for general public release. Nor was the public ready for them. To be continued.....

Not my first story, but the first I've posted here. I write a lot more on my tumblr. Many thanks to MonsterMash for editing this for me and for encouraging me to write some stuff. I don't think it mentions Havenville in the story, but it's the default town I write most of my longer stories in, I'm gonna start posting the others if you guys like this one. October 25th 2014 In the Omega Beta Alpha Frat house a party was raging. All of the frat brothers had their new pledges and each of the older boys had adopted one pledge as a brother. Tonight, the first test for the pledges had started: seeing if they could handle their liquor. “Hey there, lil bro!” Drake staggered into the hall of their frat house, a little tipsy already. “Come join the party!” he said to the smaller red head that he’d been paired with. Nate, Drake’s pledge brother, was a freshmen, and a real freshman at that. He was very boyish, being a lot shorter then the other pledges. He reminded Drake a lot of himself. He’d been shy like Nate. He hadn’t wanted to get involved with the parties or even the Frat. But, like Nate, Drake was a legacy and his family had pushed him into the frat. Drake had been scared that being gay would be difficult for the frat to deal with, but surprisingly, it hadn’t been. His frat brothers had been so easy going about it that Drake had come out of his shell, quickly losing his shyness around them. He still hadn’t made his mind up about Nate yet, probably just the usual nerves. Omega Beta Alpha was a bit of a jock frat, which could be intimidating to a little guy like Nate. Hell, even Drake had been a track star in high school. Nate was definitely not an athlete. He looked like he was the token nerd for the frat that year. A hot little nerd, Drake thought, with his red hair and green eyes. If Drake had those features on his slim runner’s body, he’d rule the world. But Drake had plain dull brown hair and boring grey eyes. Nate shook his curly red head at Drake. “I’ll stay out for a bit.Just looking at all of the pictures.” One of the walls of the frat house had been decorated with pictures of frat brothers from previous decades. But Nate seemed interested in one particular photo. “You know that guy is a murderer,” Nate said, pointing to a tall dark haired boy in the center of a photo. The text “James Hawke, President, 1962” was inscribed in gold underneath the photo. “Yea, I heard it was some Alfred Hitchcock shit, how they found the dead guy. ” Drake shrugged “We’re not really meant to talk about him. I mean, he wasn’t convicted or anything, but its not a part of history the university wants remembered, you know?” “Do you know if they ever found him? I heard he took off after the murder.” Nate said, looking at Drake with wide eyes. “Not that I know of,” Drake told him. Nate suddenly looked sad. “The guy he killed isn’t on here.” “That’s cause he was gay!” Jimmy said, coming up behind them. Drake and Nate jumped a little. “The frat wasn’t nearly as accepting as we are now, back then.” He hiccuped, standing between them. He wrapped his arms around Drake and Nate’s shoulders, staring at the picture with them. He held a half full glass of beer in the hand hanging over Drake’s shoulder, a few big drops of beer sloshing out onto the floor. Jimmy was Italian and it showed in his tanned skin and pitch black hair. He wasn’t hairy and worked hard to keep his body trim and tight. Something he had to do, given how much beer he drank. He was a swimmer and Drake thought his legs and his ass were his best features. Not that he told Jimmy that. “Wasn’t James Hawke gay too?” Nate said. “Yeah, but his daddy was rich. That makes all the difference around here,” Drake said, matter-of-factly. “You're so tiny!” Jimmy said, feeling Nate’s shoulders. “Look, can you fags come back in and join the party already?” Nate’s face went red. Drake shook his head, rolling his eyes at Jimmy. “What?” Jimmy’s drunken face suddenly looked angelic and innocent. He spoke in a higher pitched voice than usual as he said, “it’s ok to call someone a fag if they’re your friend.” “It’s not ok, douche-nozzle,” Drake said, but couldn’t help but smile. He liked how his frat brothers could joke around with him about being gay. “Whatever.” Jimmy nodded at Nate. “Let’s get this boy drunk!” he said, leading them back into the party room. ——————————————————————————————————————————— October 26th 2014 It was early morning when the party ended. Nate managed to loosen up a bit and had even impressed a few of the guys with how much he drank. But it had cost the little ginger. He could barely walk and Drake had to drag his little bro back to his dorm room. Nate was practically asleep, his arms wrapped around Drake’s slim torso and gripping at his shirt. His face pressed into Drake’s shoulder and he was drooling onto his big bro’s collar. “We’re back, lil bro,” Drake announced, dumping Nate against the wall next to his door. Nate woke up abruptly as he was suddenly forced to keep himself upright. He smirked dumbly at Drake and tossed the room key at him. Drake rolled his eyes and tried to open the door. But Drake was drunk too and it took several tried for the door to open. Once the door was open, Nate fell into his room and somehow managed to land on his bed.His roommate wasn’t home so luckily there was no one to complain about the noise. Drake started to help Nate get his shoes off, but the little guy pulled Drake up by the collar and kissed him full on the lips. It only lasted a second, but Nate pushed him away, his face bright red. Guess that answers if he’s gay or not, Drake thought. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Nate slurred, burping. “I’m really drunk.” Drake shrugged and flashed a cheeky grin. “That’s…” he stopped when Nate dropped down onto his pillow, already snoring softly. Drake sighed. He was on his knees next to Nate’s bed. The door and the roommate’s bed looked miles away. He just laid back, resting his head on a pile of folded towels and tried to get some sleep. Maybe Nate wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. Or maybe he would. Drake wasn’t sure which one would be better. During his sleep,for the first time in years Drake had a wet dream. It was intense and vivid. He felt hands caressing his body, teeth biting at his nipples, and tongues working his average cock and balls. It felt as if his clothes moved as he slept, like real hands were sculpting his body into something new. He twisted and turned, fighting against strong grasps that held down his wrists and ankles. It was extremely hot, and he eventually came, roaring when he did. Something he’d never done before. The noise was so loud, it almost shook Nate from his sleep. The smaller guys groans though were silenced by Drake’s moans. Drake woke hours later, well into the day, and he thanked god it was a Sunday. He was hungover and still very tired, but his underwear was cold and damp from the multiple loads coaxed out of his sleeping form. He sat up noticing that Nate’s bed was empty, then he thought he heard something tear and felt cold air on his back. “Sleeping beauty’s awake,” a voice chuckled from the other bed Drake turned to take in Nate’s roommate, a beefy looking boy.The corn fed Kansas type. “Nate said to say sorry for last night, he went off to the library… I think to avoid you” the roomie explained. “I’m Greg by the way” “Hey, I’m Drake, Nate’s big brother at Omega,” Drake greeted, rubbing sleep from his eyes He was just wondered whether he was coming down with a sore throat, he sounded horse, when there was another tearing sound. A rip spread up Drake’s sleeve, the fabric stretched thin by a thickly muscled arm that wasn’t his own. “What the fuck,” Drake gasped, jumping up and looking at his arms, both huge and heavy with muscle. “Yea, your bursting out of that shirt.” Greg grinned. “Big guy problems, I know the feeling. You can borrow one of mine if you like.” Drake nodded, a little shook up by his veiny arms. He looked over to Greg who appeared to be the same height as him. Greg fished out a vest from his wardrobe and Drake noticed that Greg’s arms looked a little thicker than his own bigger arms. Greg tossed the vest over and Drake pulled his shirt off. It fell apart in his hands. Drake stopped dead as he looked down at his torso. He always had some nice slender abs, but now he couldn’t see them past a pair of big, tight pecs. “Nice fucking abs man!” Greg said, lifting his own shirt to show abs that looked a lot like Drake’s had, before he woke up. “Been working on mine for months and can’t get any more cut…… What’s your secret?” “I don’t know,” Drake answered, one hand shrugging on the vest, the other tracing deeper then normal ridges on his stomach. He moved to the door, the vest tight against his torso, his massive arms painfully on display. As he opened the door he saw Greg’s nostrils flare, a little flash of light sprang up in the back of his eyes. “Hey, if you want to work out or sometime…… you know where I am.” Greg smiled, his broad shoulders folding inwards like he was suddenly shy. Drake just nodded and fled the dorms. When he got back to the frat house he sped up to his room, ignoring his brothers who’d starting to clean up from the party. He jumped out of his clothes and threw his cum sodden briefs into a pile of dirty clothes on the other side of the room. He stood at the mirror on the back of his door. His mouth open and his eyes flushed with shock. Drake was ripped, a deep solid six pac flexed on his stomach. He bounced his pecs for the first time ever and smirked arrogantly at the feel of them falling under their muscle-heavy weight. He flexed his arm and caressed the swollen bicep. He’d always had big legs, but now the rest of his body had caught up with them. The biggest surprise was his cock. When hard before, it was about 6 inches, on a good day. Now it looked to be that big soft. Also his balls felt heavy and full, even though he’d shot more into his pants then he did in a normal week of jerking off. Drake shook off the shock and with eyes still heavy with sleep, he fell into his bed. ——————————————————————————————————————————— October 27th 2014 Drake slept the whole day and night, and he had another wet dream. This time even more hands and tongues were involved. Again they milked Drake while he slept. Invisible mouths taking turns sucking down his swollen cock, hands massaging his bloated muscles. Then the tongues started. They worked over his body, washing every muscle. They cleared his skin and excited the hair follicles. He woke in a sweat the next morning, but it wasn’t cold, it was warm like bathwater. Still full of sleep, he rose out of bed and moved towards the mirror. He half wondered whether he’d dreamt the growth from the day before. Maybe he’d drank some bad vodka. But he felt heavy, and parts of his body bounced and swung when they hadn’t before. His eyes widened at the sight in the mirror. He was the same size as yesterday. Built like he’d been hitting the gym for years. His abs still cut unreasonably deep, his arm muscles still big and covered in veins. But now he was hairier. A thin forest of dark hair had sprouted over his pecs during the night. Some more spread over his thighs and a slim trail ran up his abs stopping one cobble stone muscle below his pecs. Cum was splattered over his pecs and stomach again. Drake sighed and wiped it off with a nearby shirt. It was the shirt Greg gave him. He’d have to wash that later. Drake felt a chill and what could’ve been a tongue run along his soft cock, causing it to shoot up into a instant erection. “Fuck.” Drake grinned. He should be shocked or scared, but what kind of man would react without delight to suddenly having an 8 inch cock? There a loud knocking at the door. “One second!” Drake shouted,this voice a little deeper then the day before He pulled on some boxers quickly, not realizing that they fit perfectly over his longer fatter cock. Like they’d spent their entire existence being stretched out by it. He didn’t bother with a shirt, none of the other guys did in the frat, and Drake had a much better body then most of them now. He opened the door and found his frat brother Jimmy staring back at him from the room across the hall. “Why’d you knock on my door?” Jimmy said.He looked like he’d just woken up, his eyes bleary and bloodshot. 
Like Drake, he wore only boxers. Drake did his best to keep his eyes above the neck, not looking down at Jimmy’s flat stomach or long legs. “I didn’t…. you knocked on mine,” Drake retorted. Without even being aware he was doing it, he flexed his chest and rolled his shoulders towards Jimmy menacingly. Jimmy shook his head, and backed away a step from the larger male. “No, I didn’t,” he said. They both stood quiet for a moment. Drake went back to relaxing his muscles, but noticed that it made him seem a couple inches shorter. He watched as Jimmy took one long inhale and rolled back on his feet a little. “Do you have classes today?” Jimmy said,suddenly shy Drake shrugged and scratched the back of his head, feeling, a little nervous for some reason. His bicep flexed and Jimmy’s eyes widened. “I got a few hours,” Drake answered. A wide smile appeared on Jimmy’s face “Great…. do you want to fuck?” Drake stepped back this time. “What are you….” Jimmy leaned against his door-frame and took another deep breath. Drake did the same and got a sharp smack of musk in his nose. Drake shuddered. He smelt really good. “I just really want to fuck, and you look like you know what you’re doing,” Jimmy stated. “You know you’re pretty hung and you’re gay, so I assume you can fuck guys pretty well…” Drake just nodded, even though his experience with men was surprisingly small. Jimmy took the nod as a yes to everything and pulled Drake into his room. The door swung closed under its own power and a gust of wind pushed the two frat brothers onto Jimmy’s bed. Drake clumsily tore off Jimmy’s boxers and then his own. He was unused to his larger hands and his new found strength. Drake went to roll onto his back, to let Jimmy on top, but he felt a gentle pressure on the front of his body, preventing him from turning. Like hands were holding him in place. While he tried to move forward, Jimmy laid down on his back in front of Drake, and wrapped his legs around Drake’s waist. Drake felt more pressure, this time pushing him into place and lining up his swollen cock with Jimmy’s tight looking ass. He would’ve been alarmed, but he didn’t have time. The next thing he knew, he was baring down on top of Jimmy, his cock pluning into Jimmy’s hole. The sensations were so hot, it made it hard for Drake to think. The formerly straight boy cried out once, but then buried his face into Drake’s thickly muscled chest. Drake felt himself bottom out, filling Jimmy to the hilt. Loving every second of it. For a long time, Drake fucked Jimmy, hard. He’d never fucked a guy this hard before, but it felt natural. As though something were guiding his thrusts. Pushing him in a certain way to hit Jimmy’s prostate just right. To make Jimmy’s cock bounce at just the right time. Jimmy nibbled at Drake’s traps as they both felt phantom mouths licking their nipples and cupping their balls. They got lost, joined in the sheer heat of their bodies coming together. Drake felt himself get close, over and over again, but each time, something stopped him from coming. It felt like a tongue would run between his balls as they slapped against Jimmy’s tight ass at just the right second, pulling him away from the edge. Jimmy also found himself unable to come, the feeling of a hand pinching his piss slit slightly whenever he began to feel his balls tighten up, ready for release. After an eternity, Drake felt himself ready to come. Jimmy pulled his head away from Drake’s neck and lay back on the bed. Drake felt a pressure on the back of his neck, guiding him towards Jimmy’s face. His face moved forward and he gladly kissed Jimmy, feeling as though Jimmy’s mouth had multiple tongues in it kissing him back. And that’s when he finally came, shooting thick shots of come into Jimmy’s tight ass.Jimmy came at the same time, his ass clamping down on Drake’s dick as he fired numerous shots of jizz onto his chest. Drake broke their kiss, hovering over Jimmy, his arms flexed like marble pillars on either side of Jimmy’s head. His fingers were dug in the headboard, almost denting the wood. “That was better then fucking girls,” Jimmy exclaimed, sweat glistening off his face and cum covered chest. 
“Well, you’re the one who got fucked…” Drake smirked as Jimmy breathed in the combined musk of Drake and sex. “You want to go again?” Jimmy asked, grinding his ass further down Drake’s softening cock. Drake felt tired, and started to shake his head no. But then a tongue ran up the under side of his cock and Drake went immediately solid, deep inside Jimmy’s freshly broken in ass. A light breeze blew against Drake’s balls and they bloated with more of his potent spunk. “Lets do it” Drake growled, pushing upwards and forcing Jimmy to curve against Drake’s larger body. They continued till Drake had to leave for class, hours later. He left Jimmy exhausted and covered in cum. But Drake felt powerful and full of energy. He got dressed and was already in class by the time he noticed that his clothes fit his bigger body perfectly and that no one had noticed he’d nearly doubled in size in one night. ———————————————————————————————————————————

WARNING: This story could make one part of your body very uncomfortable so reader discretion is definitely advised. Campbell is waking up from a deep sleep and can feel a heavy breeze brushing up against his legs. As he lies there, he looks over at his floor mirror and notices a black swirl forming in the middle of it. He jumps to his feet and quickly slides some shorts over top of his bare ass and cock. The cloud starts to cover the entire area of the mirror until it finally reveals what appears to be some walkway that leads to a bench. The surprised young man walks up to the mirror but tries to keep his distance. It isn’t long though before the wind starts to kick up louder and heavier than before. This time though, Campbell can feel himself being drawn in towards the mirror. He quickly grabs on to the end of his bed and holds on for dear life. He yells in fright as things from around his bedroom go flying inside. He turns to see a huge dark figure walking towards him from inside the mirror and sticks its massively muscled arm through to grab him by his legs. He screams, ‘NOOOOO!’ as the bed gets dragged along with him through the mirror. He loses consciousness as he is pulled in and lands directly in front of the bench he saw from within his room. The mirror disappears behind him as he lies there motionless. The figure picks him up and lays him on the bench. As he comes to, the figure starts to form a humanoid shape before Campbell is fully aware of his surroundings. Once the groggy young man sits up, the figure is done forming. It goes to sit beside him and puts its newly made left arm around his left shoulder. Campbell turns to look at him and nearly jumps off the bench once he sees who he thinks is a ghost. ‘WHAT?! Noooo, it can’t be! *tears well up in his eyes* Nooo noooo! I remember when you died. This can’t be…..why Josiah? Why?’ Campbell falls into the man’s arms and continues to cry. Josiah rubs his back and pulls him up against him. He rubs his scruffy beard against the sad man’s face and lets out a small groan. Campbell stops crying to push himself back a little bit to look into the man’s brown eyes. He is in awe of who he is looking at. ‘How is this possible? I am looking into your eyes and it is as if you never left.’ Josiah grabs both of the man’s hands and grasps them before putting them around the back of his neck. Campbell runs his hands along the man’s shoulders before placing them on the man’s exposed forearms. The man is wearing the jumpsuit from when he was murdered nearly four years before. The green and white stripes run up and down the jacket and sweatpants. His olive colored skin is covered with a forest of brown hair on his arms and legs. He is also wearing the tennis shoes from then too. The man smiles at Campbell and pulls him in close before leaning down to kiss him on the lips. The surprised young man moans feeling the man plunge his tongue down his throat. The kiss is long and very satisfying as Campbell lets out a few moans. Josiah holds him tightly in his arms as his partner rubs his dark buzzed hair. They stop kissing as the man looks him in the eyes again and appears to be trying to speak. ‘Can you talk Josiah? Please say something to me I want to remember what you sound like.’ The Lebanese-American man makes a few sounds, but seems unable to push out any kind of word or sentence. Campbell hugs him tightly as he maneuvers to sit on top of the sexy man’s lap and feels Josiah’s cock pressing up against him. He reaches down inside the man’s pants to feel its warm uncut sheath against his fingers. He sighs a bit before leaning up to kiss Josiah again. ‘I will never forget how incredibly sexy your cock is Josiah.’ The smiling arab man reaches down to feel Campbell’s rod in his shorts and pulls it out to slap it against his jacket. A little bit of precum gets slung and stains the man’s jacket. After a few minutes of making out, the smaller man moves down off his lap and pulls Josiah’s cock out to gently kiss it and lick the edges. The arab lets out a few moans as Campbell works him over slowly and methodically. The taste of Josiah’s honey makes the eager sucker work harder as it starts to flow freely. After a few more gulps, Campbell looks up at his lover and sees him get a strange look on his face. ‘OH NO? What is it Josey? You look like you are in some kind of discomfort.’ The concerned lover can feel the bigger man’s cock vibrating against his face as it starts to swell. The veins thicken as the growth progresses down to his ballsac which is swelling itself. Campbell hears a few noises coming from the arab’s mouth as his legs begin filling up every square inch of his pants. The seams tear slowly as his quads and hamstrings spill out the openings. Campbell moans as he licks his lover’s engorged pole as it leaks more of its thick honey. The growth moves up into Josiah’s chest as his stomach reacts violently. The arab shakes as his stomach balloons until it stretches his jacket to its limits. His mouth gapes open before he feels the growth get sucked back in and rush into his pecs which quickly blow up. Their massive size forces his jacket to split along the sides as his thick furry pecs peek out the edges. Campbell stops licking Josiah’s cock to reach up and feel both huge mounds. The arab continues to breath heavy as he stretches his arms out to his sides. An immense amount of pressure starts building up in both of them as each muscle fiber in his forearms and biceps begin stretching and thickening wider than before. Josiah has a crazy look on his face again as he stares intently at them both. The sleeves strain as the growing bulbs of muscle continue to expand along what appears to be giant hose-sized veins. The big man starts to moan as his eyes go back into his head. His back splits his jacket in half as his gargantuan delts appear. His hairy traps and shoulders rip through his jacket as it starts to fall down his thick sweaty waist. The briefs Josiah is wearing buckle under the weight of his huge hairy ballsac and cock. Campbell holds them in his hands as he moves his mouth and tongue up to lick and kiss his arab lover’s massively muscled torso. Once he gets to the big man’s huge pecs, Josiah grabs hold of Campbell’s shorts and rips them off. He then lifts the surprised man up flexing his 22” guns and shredding the fabric and disintegrating it at the same time. He swallows Campbell’s cock and sucks it vigorously making the smaller man moan deeply and humps his lover’s mouth. Josiah looks up at his face and smiles before pulling Campbell’s cock out to massage the head a few times with his long tongue. ‘Mmmm Josey, I always dreamt about you looking like this baby. You are so huge and furry and……*rubs the big man’s thick furry beard* beautiful.’ The heavily muscled arab slowly parts Campbell’s cock head and slides his tongue down inside while gripping his lover tightly around his waist. His own cock bounces furiously against his thick hairy slabs. Campbell moans in ecstasy not realizing that Josiah is pushing his tongue further down inside. It reshapes itself to slide all the way down to the base of his cock before searching for his prostate. The small man is unable to move as he yells in delight rather than pain as the big arab’s cock rises and arches itself towards Campbell’s pulsing hole. He gasps as he grips Josiah’s shoulders feeling some kind of river starting to rush into him from the muscled stud’s mouth and tongue. After a few seconds, the arab slowly slides his tongue out as a thick river of honey flows from inside Campbell’s cock and on to Josiah’s chest. ‘Ahh Ahh AHH! OH GAWD Josey, I have never felt such a rush like this before.’ The arab leans down to give Campbell’s bulging cock a few nice long sucks to swallow some of the precum it is drooling. His own cock rages trying desperately to find its way into Campbell’s other passion canal. The small man feels himself being lowered now onto Josiah’s immense 13” cock slowly and methodically. He grips his hairy lover’s mammoth biceps squeezing them making the big man growl as he stretches Campbell. ‘YES BABY, OH GAWD. Fuck me please. I’m all yours.’ The small man gives Josiah complete control of him as his anus conforms to the giant horse cock now entering it. Campbell feels his legs and ass shake as it pushes further inside searching for that magical place. He is surprised at how easy it is for the arab stud to fuck him but lets it all occur since the feeling is too much to prevent. After nearly sliding all the way in, Josiah’s cock finds his prostate and starts to massage it. ‘YES! YES! YES! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me Josey!’ *shakes violently* Josiah rubs his legs and back to make him calm down and straightens up to kiss Campbell’s chest while holding him in place. He slowly starts to thrust inside the horny bottom working a nice steady rhythm as he lovingly licks the smaller man’s neck and face. He grunts deeply as he manages to mate with Campbell’s prostate as the two organs merge. Within seconds, the big arab starts unloading huge jets of cum directly into it thrusting over and over again. Campbell yells in delight feeling his insides filling up with thick white jizz. Before he can look into Josiah’s eyes again though, he starts to drift away. After a few seconds, he jumps up in his bed and yells. He looks around and wonders if this was perhaps just a dream. He turns and looks at his alarm clock and realizes that he is late for a meeting with one of his close friends. He starts to put his pants on when he feels something really strange going on in his crotch. He tries to stand up but can’t seem to get up from the bed. Campbell can feel strange sensations coming from his prostate which worries him. He notices his cock starting to wake up as it gets harder. He pulls his pants back off around the time he shoots a clear stream of precum into his boxer shorts. He takes them off and sees his cock arching up in the air. The pressure from within his prostate starts to build up as if he is about to shoot a massive load, but nothing happens. He stares intently at his cock as the piss slit begins to stretch. He yells in fright feeling his prostate growing as it starts to bulge outward from inside his body. His cock begins to grow bigger too as his balls thicken and swell. The feeling scares him so much but he is unable to move as his cock and balls triple in size. His legs move out to the sides to accommodate the large appendage that is now growing. It is stretching the lower part of his stomach as well. It finally stops growing after about five minutes. He stares in awe at the giant balloon now sitting where his pelvis was and wonders if this might have been a result of that dream that he just had a little while before. His cock continues to grow even after his prostate and stomach stop expanding. It finally forces him to move to the floor. The gargantuan pole eventually stops pooling precum. He can feel whatever it is inside him starting to move forward now as his cock grows even larger. The thing is pushing itself through his massive cock as the piss slit stretches even wider. Campbell can no longer feel anything in that part of his body including his legs and feet. The intruder stops moving halfway down the canal before its shocked host feels his prostate starting to react. The blood in his body all rushes into his immense cock’s veins and arteries to finally launch the intruder out of the cockhead. Campbell passes out from the carnage as the thing from inside him is birthed as it is followed by an ocean of cum. The sheer power behind the release launches the new lifeform into the wall in front of him cracking it and landing the creature down onto the ground. Still passed out and cumming, Campbell is unaware that he has given birth to someone he knows from his past. The lifeform stretches out from its fetal position and begins to come to. Millions of cracks and pops radiate from the floorboards and walls as it starts to grow bigger and wider. Literally hundreds of muscles swell and balloon all over the new human’s body. Within just minutes, it triples in size from a small skeletal man into a huge hulking beast. It tries to stand up several times but falls over causing quite a few loud noises in the room. This awakens Campbell from his coma and he sits up really quickly. He immediately looks down and sees that his cock has returned back to normal. The huge river of cum he is lying in makes him jump to his feet. He notices the giant crack in the wall across the room and seems terrified as to what could cause that. He hears heavy breathing coming from the same area and gets really nervous. He goes back over to his bed to turn a light on and can see a huge hairy man shaking violently as he leans against the wall. The man’s huge hairy muscular torso glistens with sweat and is dripping cum everywhere. ‘WHO ARE YOU!? DID YOU…..COME OUT OF ME!?’ The man turns to look at him and looks extremely stressed. His brown eyes and thick beard immediately resemble someone. Campbell is holding the lamp he had turned on to throw it at the man but instead slowly puts it back down. He can hear the man muttering to himself. ‘I…..I don’t know what is going on with me. I just remember…..*man starts to think* disappearing from here. *Looks into Campbell’s eyes* OMG CAM! I thought I would never see you again.’ The shocked smaller man wades his way over to the hairy stud and holds him tightly. The man picks him up and kisses him on the lips. They both sob a little as Campbell rubs the big arab’s huge muscles and moans. The man looks down and realizes that he doesn’t have the same physique as before and starts bouncing his pecs and biceps. The smaller man rubs and squeezes them each time they bounce and then kisses them. This goes on for a few minutes before they move into the nearby hallway and into the kitchen. Josiah sits Campbell down on the counter and opens the refrigerator. ‘I have to eat Cam…..for some reason I am hungrier than I have ever been in my life. *Looks down at his body again and then turns to look at Campbell* Did you always want me to look like this Cam? If I would have known that, I would have spent way more time in the gym.’ Campbell smiles at him and shrugs his shoulders. ‘Uhhhh well…..I did fantasize quite a bit about you hulking out and growing into a beastly Lebanese gawd.’ Josiah laughs in his deep voice and turns back around to grab all of the meat he sees sitting in the refrigerator. He closes it and takes it over beside Campbell. There are chicken breasts and a few cooked beef patties. He takes them all out of their packages and just wolfs them down. Campbell seems alarmed by this, but figures that this will be a new requirement. ‘Cam, I think I am going to need more than this. I’m sorry if any of that was your dinner.’ *winks* ‘Josey, I don’t care if you eat all of the food in the fridge. I am so happy you are back, I just want to hold you forever.’ Campbell reaches over and rubs Josiah’s thickly muscled chest. The forest of brown fur soothes the small man as he leans up against the huge arab. Josiah picks him back up and squeezes him tightly before burying Campbell into his enormous pec shelf and veiny neck. ‘I love you more than you will ever know Cam and I won’t leave you again. Your big Lebanese beast is here with you now and forever.’ They start to kiss again as Josiah props his lover up on the wall and wraps Campbell’s legs around his back before he slowly slides his huge Arabian cock inside his lover and starts to fuck him. Every mammoth muscle in his back and legs flex and strain as he makes love to Campbell. Meanwhile…..the mirror in Campbell’s room is beginning to cloud up again just like it did in the beginning.

Standard forewarning: violent sex scenes, birthing etc...enjoy! ______ Backstage dozen of spectators had gathered, having heard to the news, to see the lifeless corpse of the biggest, most muscular man that ever existed (for now). It was a mountain of hard flesh that elicited sighs of awe from the onlookers. There was muscle on every toe, on his elbows, even the brow of his face had developed a thick muscular cover. The display of shock and reverence was shortlived, and within moments worshippers had begun climbing onto the body and fucking every hole and crevice they could find. Giant bodybuilders, including Wyman, thrusted their dicks in between the massive pecs, under his armpits, between his fingers. It was an orgy unlike anything ever witnessed before. I made the most of this, and headed back onto the stage, that was now empty. I decided to gather as much of that muscle baby's semen as I could find before it became useless. It was easy to identify, as he had become so large after a certain point that the individual sperm cells were around two or three inches long and swam around, lost in the auditorium. High on testosterone and my own future enormity, I caught as many of these spunky, hormonal fish as I could and devoured them, as I began to feel my body undergo a big change. I woke up in my hotel room three days later. As my eyes opened, the rest of my body coursed with blood, and I attempted to control my new muscles. It wasn't easy, but I figured that my own body could only evade my control for a short time. I rolled over out of the bed and rose to my feet. The ceiling that I had called extremely high and daunting when I arrived at the President Hotel, now barely covered my head. The testosterone production process in my body had sped up dramatically, and the sheets of my bed were soaked with my jizz, and thick hair, much like that of the muscle baby I had to thank for tis new body, covered my entire being. My first task was to shave. As I entered the bathroom I saw the scales on the floor next to the doorway. They were scales without an upper limit, which was necessary as this hotel hosted the largest men on earth whenever the Mr Planet competition was in town. I remember standing on them when I first arrived, they read 415 pounds, a measurement which at the time turned me on beyond words. I now stood at 13"5, almost twice my previous height, and with great excitement I placed my huge, strong, hairy feet onto the scales. 1337 pounds. I instantly ejaculated, all over the scales, all over the bathroom floor. The flow was too great and it flooded into the bedroom, over the balcony and I would later discover a pool of my ejaculate that had poured over the edge and into the ornamental pond of the hotel's grounds. Like the muscle baby whose semen I had devoured a week before, in spite of being 8 feet in length, my cock was so heavy that it hung to the floor even when totally erect. I began to run the shaver all over the acres of furry muscle and an hour later I was cleanly shaven and ready to be worshipped. The thick, matted, sweaty hair I had just removed from all over my body now filled the bathtub, and I left it for the maid to fix, not knowing really what to do myself. 3 in the afternoon, and I received a knock at the door. I was thrilled, I had arranged a worship session that only I was in on. It was with Martin- I had anonymously invited him to my room, with the intention of him falling over at the sight of my magnificent new body. I bent down to open the door, but when I did all I could see was a gigantic foot and the start of a leg. I was speechless, clearly I had been mistaken in assuming that I was the only one to drink the muscle baby’s potent semen. "Hey Franco!" Martin's voice boomed as he greeted me. So he knew it was me, I thought, I guess he saw me in the audience, or Jean Marie told him about me, "I don't think this is going to work, we should head down to the auditorium." "Agreed!" I replied, attempting to gently burst through the wall, but instead ripping the entire fourth floor of the hotel apart. We marched side by side, two giant men looking forward to our reunion in the underground vault. We arrived down to the auditorium where one week prior we had witnessed the Mr Planet competition. The drama of the event and the damage done to the arena by the muscle baby had remained, it had actually been decided to abandon this venue and seek another one for future expositions. The spunk on the floor had evaporated and there was a crumbly crust of dead sperm all over the ground. Martin told me that in the statistics compiled after the contest, it stated that 140,000 litres of spunk had been expelled onto the stage that day. We turned on all the lights and then finally got to see each other eye to eye. He stood opposite me, truly magnificent. I don't need to describe every detail, you know what a bodybuilder looks like. I gazed in adoration at those calf muscles, that even in the competition had been magnificent, but now were totally absurd. The lower portion of his leg was twice as wide as it was long, and the muscle jutted out in several directions like a gemstone. His quads at their thickest point were three times the circumference of his slim waist, and he, like me, stood with a giant cock facing the ground. His ballsack was so heavy with balls the size of children that it touched the ground, and dragged as he walked. I was lucky as my scrotum was not loose but instead hung tight, just under my cock. Our huge, virile bodies produced testosterone at such a rate that we, just like the muscle baby responsible for our growth, were in a constant state of arousal, and whereas the muscle baby was constantly masturbated by a team of assistants, we managed just whacking it very three or four minutes. Needless to say, behind us was a river of no less than one hundred thousand litres of spunk from our half hour walk down to the auditorium. "I arranged for a friend to meet us here," Martin told me, as we walked nearer to one another and embraced, "Wyman thinks he’s coming down for a rematch. Silly little man."

TALES OF A LUST MAGE #3 by roboprobo SUB TAGS; Magic, Subtle Growth, Hyper (some), Height, Characters (Bradley, Xaekus, Hunter, Maker, Bahketh), Genies (Efreeti), Demons, Archers The following work of fiction portrays fictional characters in sexual situations. Please do not read if you interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format/medium. Author Note: I apologize sincerely for the length if it is a bother. I really wanted to set up the universe and then move onto more sexual themes. I still plan to keep expanding, growing, if you know what I mean, but for now I really wanted to get some muscle to grow in the actual text. Part I – Bronc, Imps, and Fire “All right, I officially end your punishment, Xaekus.” Bradley said, tearing a small strip of paper in two. Its arcane symbols seemed to burn the paper into ash. “YES!” Xaekus exclaimed, forming a human guise he accustomed to. He didn’t have enough energy to create a tall guise to match his beautiful master. Right now he couldn’t care less about how annoyed he was at Him, he just wanted to feel His skin’s energy. “No, no stop. Please, you’re going to choke me with your foulness.” Bradley muttered, looking through his files as Xaekus flew up and embraced his master’s arm. “What are you doing, master?” asked Xaekus, floating as his lower body fizzled into smoke. He hadn’t gathered enough energy to maintain full guise. Looking at his master’s full, striated pecs, He decided to size himself down to land right in the cleavage. Bradley looked down at the small, muscular, doll-sized man between his pectorals. He wished he had more than his white tank on. “Do you remember Barry Yates?” Bradley mumbled, walking into a storage room. “Barry Owen Yates?! They call him ‘Bronc’ nowadays! Yes, you helped him get as big as he is now, didn’t you?” Asked Xaekus, excited. He looked over and saw some file cabinets opened and fluffed into a mess. His urge to clean won over. The imp flew off to clean as Bradley responded. “I helped him before. He didn’t want to take steroids because he wanted to stay lean and clean. I can respect that. At the time I had just set up the business. He called me recently, said he’d saved up enough money to get himself massive with my help, to inhuman proportion. I’d told him I could give him a consultation, but no sex. I have to use magic to keep his cock from breaking me in two.” Bradley said. “Oh, I can transform him, sir! And I can do the other part too…” Xaekus trailed off as he finished cleaning the files. “No, I’d rather you didn’t. You still prove unruly and his general libido would easily let you possess him. I’m not stupid,” responded Bradley, finally finding the big bronze chest he’d tied up in blue chains. Xaekus managed to bite, “Sir, you never let me have any fun anymore!” before seeing the chest. He became silent. His glamour faded and turned him into a simple puff of blue smoke. “You don’t mean to use him, do you?” Xaekus muttered. “I do. I can control him easier because he’s been locked away from this world for centuries. I plan on syphoning a pact if the consultation with Bronc leads there. Now let’s see, what artifacts do I have that belong to him?” Xaekus peeked from behind his master and fiddled with his glasses as he tried to make some guise. He was nervous. Bradley unfolded a handkerchief and pulled out a small idol from the brass chest. The crude clay statuette was of a four armed figure with horns. Its red paint had chipped away long ago, leaving only a few marks that Bradley had tried keeping intact. Maybe he’d use a spell or two to fix the thing, but he didn’t want the subject to anchor any more into the normal world. “How old is that thing…?” Xaekus managed to ask before looking over to the beginning of the storage room’s dark side. Xaekus himself was no hero, but he certainly didn’t do the things a lot of the artifacts Bradley had there did. The familiar grumbled and decided maybe he’d go to his bottle or clean the house. Bradley’s left hand drew an arcane symbol that acted as a small flashlight. The darkness seemed to try eating the simple light as Bradley’s eyes examined the ancient idol. “Hmm. How old indeed.” Part II – Four Branches Lit Aflame The winter was terrible, at least by what Papa had said. Pa was a great man. He took me in when my mother had died. He said we were once a great tribe. The war with the Yellow clan had ruined us, even if we had won. Both clans had died out when the winter came after. We’d traveled a long time afterward going South- the lands where people did not move through the land. Fairly close to our territories in the south people had come and built a small village down in the valley. We didn’t travel anymore but chose to live farther up in the mountainous region, away from the village. Papa had taught me to do many things. He taught me how to forage, hunt, and fish. He told me all the great legends of our tribe. The saddest was the last one, that our Great Spirit guardian had sacrificed itself in the war. I asked him if that was why we had become so alone; he never answered. The winters were never cruel to us as they had been in the years before my birth. We hunted a large amount of game and ate as much as needed. Eventually we settled fairly low on the mountain, away from the village. Even both of us could not always eat all the food we caught. I was proud of my Pa. I was now eighteen years of age. I was very worried about my papa. He’s changed so much since that cold night. It was a few nights after I’d just hit my seventeenth year. I was afraid. I was not very good at hunting or fishing. I had become very adept at planting and creating things with wood. The Wise Woman of the village taught me to plant things like squash and carrots, so we started to plant things at our home. Her husband had taught me to build things after we traded many furs with them, so our small house is very sturdy. Papa was not very good at these things because he was stuck in the old ways of our people. That is what the Wise Woman had said. “We’ll follow the tracks in a bit, boy. We should rest up a bit. These muddy trails make it easy to spot them, but aye, my boots look terrible.” Papa laughed, putting his bow down. I saw the prints in the snow leading uphill too. Pa smiled. I was worried because he was ill. His lungs heaved with phlegm as he sneezed. We sat down and began snacking. “Should we really be hunting, still? I think you need rest, Pa.” I told him. “Nonsense. I’m fine. You just keep scouting for me until you can hunt as well as I. Then you can worry about me getting rest, boy.” Pa said, chewing on dry meat. “Yes, sir. I wish you’d let the Wise Woman give you medicine. You’ve been sick since the last frost.” I said, drawing in the mud with a stick. I was going to plant seeds whenever we got home from hunt. The dirt was starting to dry the perfect consistency for new seed. Pa began coughing hard and looked up at me as he spit up foulness. He asked me to look away. People died often because of illness, so I began to worry more. I think he could see it. “Calm down, lad. I will be fine,” He huffed, “And you need to be less like your mother and other father.” I didn’t think about it much, so I asked, “Pa, what were my parents like?” I chewed on some salted meat. We would dry all our meat this way to carry around. It’d make me very thirsty, but the stream was on our trip after this deer hunt. Maybe I could convince Papa to get medicine then. “Your mother was a wonderful, smart woman. She was very pretty and your father went through some trouble before the war to marry her. And your father, well, he was smaller than me, like you are. That’s certain.” He said, poking my arm. I laughed a bit. “He was a much smarter man than I ever was. I really wish he’d been around to see you grow up. He’d do a much better job than me. Both he and your mother.” He added, seeming sad. I didn’t ask these kinds of things much. “He was smart enough to name you for what you’d be really good at. Maker.” He said, packing up his ration of food and preparing to seek the deer. His name was always Papa to me, but in the village they called him simply Hunter. We went up the trail, seeing the prints go off. This was no problem, as the mud of the beginning spring left the prints terribly obvious. We’d never gone into this part of the forest for as long as we’d lived in the area, from what I could scout. The woods were extremely thick and many of the plants had gone green with moss- there seemed to have been a fire in the area. Pa had mentioned that the ‘Hidden Woods’ were cursed but as long as two people went in together and wore amulets, they’d be fine. So we cut through the woods quickly and reached the entrance to the mountain’s side. I’d never seen a cave like this. It looked like the mouth of a beast; jagged stone coming from the ceiling and ground of the cave. Mossy logs and brush lay all over the ground outside, like Pa’s feet moved quietly, pointing into the cave. It’d be too dark to see if we went in too deep, so we had to decide what to do. “Maybe I could go in and scare him out? I doubt there’s a bear in there or anything. If there is, it’ll get the deer before it gets me.” Pa said. “No, I’ll go.” I told him. “I’m not as strong or have great aim, Pa, but I can probably move faster than you.” “Ah, fine. I’ll admit you that.” Pa said, looking for a place to hide from the deer. I looked back and saw his pale skin under his clothes and cap. I’d hurry so we could get to the valley. My feet were very quiet and I tipped through, finding the best footing to sneak. My eyes adjusted to the darkness as I went deeper into the cave. Then I saw it. I wish I hadn’t. An altar sat alone in the spokes of the cave’s cold floor. I didn’t know what it was back then, but now I do. Atop the broken altar sat a small figurine. It was beautiful, looked like a real person, but smaller. I didn’t have time to see everything as the deer stood in front of it. I hadn’t made any great kills before and by instinct I shot the young buck quickly. The arrow pierced the buck’s neck all the way through. I was amazed and set another arrow in case it wasn’t enough. The deer lay its head atop the stone surface. It then fell to the ground. Without much thought I went to the deer and pulled out my knife. I was a fool for being in such a hurry. Maybe the evil one whispered to me without me knowing. I was just trying to get ahold of the buck’s neck to drain it. And that’s what I did. I pulled the buck’s head to the altar’s surface and slit its throat. I was stupid as I whispered out loud how great it was I’d found it. Then I heard the whispers, almost immediately. He whispered behind me as the blood dripped over the altar slowly. It pooled. I quickly turned and held my knife ready to attack whatever was in the cave. Nothing there. My other hand went looking for my amulet, failing to find it. It had fallen off, or maybe I had never put it on. I was doomed from the start. “Light… Fire… The room…” I thought I heard. Although I certainly didn’t want to follow the command, whatever it was saying, but I could definitely see better if I had. I quickly pulled out a small torchlight I carried for these situations (not that they happened often) and struck it against my belt many times. I tried to stay calm, but I shivered in fear of whatever was in the cave with me. “The room… Light… the room…” My small torchlight burst into a flame! I threw it at the altar, no longer worried about the buck. I grabbed the knife with both hands to defend myself and finally saw it. The flame landed right in the altar’s small brazier. The figurine finally showed its detail in full as the fire glowed. “Ah… It’s so good… to be back.” It muttered. His voice was somewhat like a puff of smoke, always blowing up from the flame. I fell backward in cowardice. The flame danced about chaotically at first, somewhat shaping itself. Eventually it did shape itself above the brazier, like a lantern, midair. I held my breath. “What a helpful young… Man. I’ve been gone for so long… What an offering!” the lantern blurted out before laughing hysterically. I clenched my teeth, trying to think of when to run away. “Oh, this is not the proper way for me to look like,” He said, sounding much clearer than before. He flickered around and stopped in different places of the area, observing the objects of the altar. “My, I remember this gift. What an artisan, he was. He was one of my favorites…” He said, covering the figurine in its flame body. The figurine didn’t burn. The flame seemed to disappear into the statuette, making it glow a strong red. “I’m glad someone called me back. I wonder where everyone’s been! I’ve got a bone to pick with them if they come back. They’re probably dead… fools, all of them.” The figurine said. I could feel his sight upon me. It felt burning hot, but inside, skipping my skin. I trembled and closed my eyes, not knowing what to do. I was so afraid of this thing. I didn’t know why. “Do you plan on sitting there or coming to meet your new friend?” He said, cackling a laugh at the end. I opened my eyes and saw the figurine sitting at the southern end of the altar. Pieces of cracked stone had blown off and the buck lay at the edge, its blood smeared. I tried getting up, feeling incredibly sweaty. “Well, aren’t you a handsome lad…” He said, vibrating the figurine. I could see it clearly; a great man like an ox. It had great big arms for its size and horns like the animal. I stood away from the altar for a bit before it boomed, “Come closer, weakling! I only wish to give thanks!” I couldn’t help but inch closer in fear as the brazier blew a bigger flame. “Who are you?” He asked. “I am called Maker. I make things from wood and can make plants grow strong.” I whispered, coughing from the heat my lungs felt. I can’t explain why, but my body felt as if I was soaking in sweat quickly. “What an interesting name. Maker. You’re an interesting boy, too. Heheh… Do you know who I am?” He said, seeming to whisper to me again. “No. Who are you?” “I am Bahketh, Prince of Fire and Strength…” He whispered. I felt his voice in my right ear, as if his mouth was there, whispering to me closely. I was so nervous and sweaty. “O-oh…” I stuttered. “And I would like to thank you for helping me. I will grant you…” He trailed off. As he did, I saw the blood on the altar disappear, leaving the stone clean. “I will grant you one wish.” He said. I stepped back. I looked around to see if my eyes would find him. “What do you mean? Where did you come from? I don’t want anything, you can have the deer, just please leave me alone.” “My dear lad, it’s only fair for me to repay you. Your tongue is too crude, but some have called me a djinn. We’re masters at granting wishes, you know. We’re even better at it when we’re given a gift… All I wanted was the blood. Now take my humble thanks or I will get angry.” He said, fire changing scarlet red. “W-well, I’ve never wanted anything. I don’t need anything. It is the way of my people. We only take what we need.” I stuttered. “Foolish boy, all men have wants. I have many powers… I can grant almost anything… Is there nothing you want? Do you want to be strong? I can make you the strongest man alive…” He said. I could feel my arms tighten as his magic fire filled my chest. “Or is there something else? Do you want the power over fire? I can make you bring down great storms of flame upon your enemies! I can make you wake the salamanders that slumber under the mountains, boy!” He said, his brazier lighting up bright yellow. It released sparkles that shaped into snakes of smoke. “No? Do you… covet someone? I’m especially good at that, boy… Is there a girl you desperately desire? A boy? You can tell me…” He said, making me feel awfully warm all over… “No, I don’t need anything. I have plenty of food, and a good home, and my health,” I said before stopping my breath. “What about my health? Could you do something for that?” “And so much more, my boy. You look awfully healthy to me!” Bahketh laughed. The bastard knew I was a fool. “No, I mean… Could you help the health of my papa?” I asked him. “Oh yes, boy. I can make him very healthy…” __________________________________________________________________________________________ Bahketh taught me to draw his name. I didn’t know how to write, but I certainly knew that words weren’t made that way. Even so, he made me repeat it again and again, in the mud of the cave on the walls. He told me to take a small cup left behind by his ‘stupid caretakers’ from before. It had a small lid and he stuffed it with ashes from his brazier. He told me to light them after my father went to bed. The flame bastard told me that although it’d sound painful to my papa, but it was him burning away the illness. I believed him. I hurried out as I recalled that I’d been in the cave for a while. I carried the buck on my back, feeling stronger than ever. Pa came running out of the bushes as he saw the buck in my arms. “Amazing, boy! I am sorry for not having so much faith in you, bucks are hard enough to catch in the dark on their own. You are definitely a man now!” Pa laughed, examining the buck closely. I felt proud as he patted my back. He coughed and we decided to head down into the Valley after cleaning the deer. Papa refused medicine again and went to sleep early that night. I light the fireplace so the house would be warm. I wasn’t as skilled with stone as much as wood, but the Stone Worker had taken a large fur as payment a while before. Father slept on the upper level of the house. He slept like a corpse. I began drawing Bahketh’s name with some of the coal he’d given me. It was soft and left stain all over the parchment I had at home. My hands trembled as I lit the small container’s ashes with some of the fireplace’s flame. I whispered again and again for Bahketh to come. And he did. Like smoke in the night, his shadow crept through the cracks of our home. The shadow quickly found home in the fireplace. He seemed more shaped this time, almost a man out of fire, flickering out of the shapes the large flame held. The dying winter felt like nothing with his presence around. I didn’t understand the whispers Bahketh made in the shadows of the house. Before I knew it, I found myself covered in sweat again. I saw Papa get up and walk towards the fire. At first I was afraid he didn’t know what was going on, but he seemed asleep. His feet moved clumsily as he reached the fire. Bahketh’s name began to burn into the parchment- red embers popped out in bits as I made a small slit in my finger with a knife. I let the blood drip onto the parchment only a bit to see it wrinkle up in flame. Bahketh laughed and covered my father in a blue fire. My eyes switched around, trying to see everything that was happening as Bahketh ‘cleansed’ my papa. The fire of the hearth blew out and ate at the walls. I tried to scream but found no breath in my lungs, just smoldering ash. I couldn’t breathe and fell to my side. I sought the strength to pull myself up as Papa screamed out words I knew he never learned from our people. I wanted to move, but I was a coward then too. Papa moaned and then began to scream as the flame ate through his sleeping garb. He fell to his knees and twitched as the flame diminished. He seemed to move back and forth, screaming in agony. Bahketh’s tongue was no longer my own. It said a great many words I did not understand. I got up and decided this wasn’t the course of action I wanted to take- Papa was certainly in pain. I ran over to him but only remember Bahketh’s burning arms slam me away. I landed across the house, hitting my head on the door. I blacked out._____________________________________________________________________ That was that. I woke up lying on the ground. I saw nothing out of the ordinary in the house. No fire had taken our home, no parchment or old container. Everything seemed fine. I raised my hand up to see a simple scar on the left arm. I looked burnt there, but it didn’t hurt. I then noticed my arms looked extremely striated, as if I’d not eaten the fats of animals ever. I’d say it looked sickly, but the arms looked fairly healthy and my skin looked fine (aside from the black scar). “Papa? Are you here?” I asked, nervously. From where I was standing, the stairs blocked the view of our home’s second level. I heard a grumble and then some shifting of our beds’ fabric. “What? Oh. Lad, how long have I slept??” asked Papa, from where I could not see. I held my head. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would; I’d felt worse on mornings after drinking with Pa. “I don’t really know, Pa. I fell asleep down here.” I said, sheepishly. I heard his footsteps as he walked down. They sounded different. Finally Pa came down and I saw him, naked. “Pa! Your clothes!” I yelped. “Oh! I’m sorry, boy. I didn’t… I don’t remember taking them off!” He said, embarrassed. I noticed how much better he looked today. His skin wasn’t pale and he looked to have eaten much better. His thick facial hair had grown in quickly in sleep. The shadow it cast on his face had become a tuft of mess. His hands looked thicker and less callused than before as they quickly grabbed things to hide himself with. That’s when I saw Bahketh’s name on his back. Sometimes people scarred themselves with fire. These are tattoos. It seemed to be Bahketh’s name, tattooed on my father’s lower back, above his buttocks. I swallowed my tongue as I saw that it seemed perfected and even more complex than what Bahketh had shown me. In all honesty, it looked beautiful, but I couldn’t help but be afraid once more of Bahketh’s presence in our home. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary though, and things went on much the same. “Well, I will tell you what, I feel amazing! I told you I didn’t need some Wise Woman’s medicine!” Pa said, lifting his arms in a stretch. They looked full of energy- powerful. “Just fine on my own.” We got dressed and did our duties for the day. It turned out little sun was left and we didn’t get much done, but we still had deer to eat for a while anyway. I made broth as Papa finished up around the house. He seemed unable to sit down, even when we’d worked hard all afternoon. “Pa, are you going to eat?” I said, tasting the deer broth. It tasted wonderful. My eyes watched the fire carefully, ready to put it out if necessary. “Aye, but gimme a bit! I’m just trying to,” He huffed, lifting and rearranging things in the house, “move some things around!” I looked over and saw Pa sweating a river. He had moved almost everything in the house so quickly- alone. He looked over and showed me his usual big, funny grin. “Now that you mention it, though, I’m really hungry. And thirsty! I suppose you already caught on though, as you made both food and drink!” He said, running over to the fireplace as I began to make our servings. Pa quickly ate his helping and went for three more. I got two helpings in (what I usually eat, anyway) before we ran out. He laughed and said he could’ve eaten more; I was astounded. Even he could usually only eat about three servings of broth, especially when I stuffed it with things from the forest. He held his distended belly and complimented my cooking. “Maybe we should learn to make bread, it sure fills you up better than broth.” Pa said. I liked the idea, considering I always wanted to learn to make things to eat aside from soups and cooked meats. “Well, if you keep eating like this. I think so, Pa.” I said, smiling back._________________________________________________________________________ Things changed. I didn’t know what to do and even ignored what seemed subtly suspicious. I became afraid. At first, everything seemed great. I never went back into the forest and even told Pa we shouldn’t. He obliged. He told me he had a great idea about how we could train to hunt better, one he’d gotten in a dream. I gave little mind to it and made the tools he asked for. We cut up tree logs in a way that we could hold stumps with our hands easily; handles. They weighed different amounts. I couldn’t lift as much as my Pa, but I still tried to do it with him. Then we began to eat much more. At first we were fine, hunting the usual amount. We seemed to keep up with our need for food by hunting almost twice, if not three times as more food as before. We didn’t need all the furs so we traded for even more tools and different resources. Pa ate a lot more but he pushed me to eat as much as possible. Sometimes he’d even get angry when I didn’t eat ‘enough’. I always wanted to make Pa proud, so I usually ate as much as he made me. My eighteenth year came. He said it was exactly on the full moon. Almost a year had passed by since the incident with Bahketh. I ignored most of the signs that his influence lingered. As long as Pa was healthy, I didn’t really care. One day, however, I asked Pa something he didn’t like at all. “Pa, doesn’t everyone from our clan marry young? I’m eighteen, and you have never told me to seek a woman.” I said. Pa looked over and quickly became serious as he responded flatly, “You don’t need anyone.” I was confused. I looked at him. He’d changed so much in the past year. His arms looked thicker than ever, the rivers of his veins popping out of his skin all over. I’d traded some clothing for Pa to wear but he seemed to only like the fur vests we would mend out of animals in the woods. They always seemed small around his barrel chest. Although he ate well, the only thing I could see on his body was lean. His abdomen seemed pulled in, tight like river stones collected neatly. I looked down at my own body. I’d changed too, but not nearly as much as he. My face scrunched up in confusion as to what Pa said. “Pa, are you sure? There’s no real way to keep our clan alive if I don’t marry, or if you don’t marry. You’re still young, I think you could. I wouldn’t get jealous of siblings, I’m a grown man anyway.” I said, trying to be positive. “You don’t need me, is that it?” Pa asked. “What? That’s now what I’m saying, Pa. Don’t you want to have more children?” I asked him. Pa lifted the handled stumps and huffed. He was drenched in sweat as usual. His hair had gotten very thick this spring, shiny with sweat. Often his skin would look red as he breathed in heavily to lift. “Pa?” I insisted. “What, Maker?! You don’t want me around, right?!” He yelled, throwing the stumps far. “Just do what you want! You’re obviously not my boy, you don’t need me anymore, that’s what you’re saying, yes?!” I was almost afraid. Not because I couldn’t defend myself, but because Pa had never been this angry. His great chest bounced up and down as he huffed. He seemed angry, but not just that. He seemed anguished. “Pa, you know I can’t do anything as good as you. You’re a better hunter. I’ll never find someone I can count on like you.” I said, almost shaking and not thinking about what I was saying. It was true, though. That was how I felt about my Pa. I remembered trying to figure out how old Pa was when the winter took our clan. He’d have been about sixteen when I went under his wing. My father was much older, I’d say. Pa always looked up to my real father- at least by the way he spoke of him. I figured it was an age difference. I tried to understand how lonely Pa must have been. “I’m sorry, Pa.” I said, wondering what he would do. I couldn’t see his face anymore as he’d went to pick up the weights. I almost trembled thinking he would become violent. He came back. I couldn’t see if it was sweat or tears covering his face, especially as he kept his head down. We didn’t talk much that night. Then I started to hear the noises at night. I’d made a few additions to the house now, so Pa and I could have some privacy. I started hearing noises coming from Pa’s room. I couldn’t tell what it was he was doing. I became afraid because I heard grunts and strange moans. Was Pa sick again?Pa started becoming really big. He made sure I ate as well, but his hunger for food was astonishing, if not amazing. He ate and ate until he practically fainted one night. I tried to help him up, but he just held me. There was a sadness in him that I did not know how to help. He also pushed me. I would feel very sore in the mornings after a night of freedom where we could lift for as long as we wanted. Not everything made sense of what he said about ‘lifting’, but he knew so much. Pa and I started a tradition of seeing our progress ‘growing’. I didn’t understand it, but it looked to be enjoyable to Pa. I thought it was fun too especially when I could show off my strength. Pa would show me how big he’d gotten in the week and then I’d do the same for him. We seemed to make great progress. I did something one night. I didn’t understand my body and felt pain in my groin. I thought of asking my Pa what to do even though it was very late in the night. The pain was keeping me awake. I went to his room and found nobody there. Quickly, I dressed myself and grabbed my bow. I’d become very fast since we’d started training ourselves for hunting. Even though I weight quite a bit more, I was sure I could find Pa quickly. I went by the river, close to the mouth. I became worried as the full moon shed its bright light upon the trees and mountain stone. My feet stepped quickly, noticing a smell that I somehow recognized as Pa’s. I’d learned to make soft –but durable- boots from fur and cloth and slipped into a shadow as I heard the rushing waters of the river grow. There Pa was. He kept complaining about the heat. It was now summer but the heat of the night was still nice and calm, so I didn’t understand. Pa splashed himself in the water and drank. He coughed as he drank. He was probably drinking so fast. He washed himself and relaxed, naked on the water’s edge. I’d never tried to pay attention to the body. Pa said it was a private affair for only a wife to see, once. I couldn’t help it as something in my chest pounded. Pa’s body seemed perfect. It seemed sculpted, massive, like stone. It seemed powerful, like the fires Bahketh had fed him. I felt the pain in my groin again. Pa stepped out and looked at small pool of water at the river’s side. I assume he was staring at his reflection. He lifted his arms and forced his muscle to push out, like a large rock pressed to escape his thin skin. He laughed and posed again, showing off his pectorals more than anything else. I guess by instinct I dropped my bow. My hands rubbed my own groin, as if I needed some release from there too. “So big.” Pa said. “I’m so fucking big.” I knew not what that word meant. I’d never heard it myself. Pa posed again and again. I saw something happen to his appendage. The leg appendage you call a phallus. It seemed to swell as he posed. I felt my heart race. “Look at how big you are. No normal man is this strong.” He moaned, rubbing his body. Every movement forced certain muscles awake. I know now what they are called. He grabbed the nubs men can’t use on his chest. I swallowed my breath, feeling aroused. Pa moaned loudly, his phallus bouncing. It looked like a large, red rod. His hands eventually moved around and grabbed onto his phallus. They wrapped around it like a large knife handle. His member was much larger than mine. I pulled mine out. I wanted to feel what Pa was feeling. His hands went up and down. I saw his big balls swinging around. I looked at mine and felt them. They felt tender, swollen. “I want more. I want to grow more!” Pa yelled, groaning as his hands moved up and down his rod. I copied, feeling a sensation I’d never felt before. I would say I had felt it before, but I’d never done such things to myself in those situations. I then could see something strange as my Pa turned sideways. He must’ve wanted to see his side but couldn’t see his wide back. Bahketh’s name shimmered in a way I assume was enough for someone to see from afar, but not without direct line of sight. Pa moaned as my chest’s beat pounded. I couldn’t take it anymore and spurt out seed. Almost right after, Pa moaned and pounded his rod. He exclaimed once more, “I want to be huge!” Pa didn’t take much longer and spurted seed too. He fell backward as his white liquid gushed out like a small torrent. It splattered everywhere. On the ground, his chest, his face even. I looked down and saw a large sum of seed on the ground as well. I didn’t have nearly enough to match Pa, but I thought there was so much, considering it was like a small puddle two feet away from me. I couldn’t stop from moaning as I felt pleasure in my body. My phallus didn’t feel painfully hard anymore and set down to rest. As I did this, Pa grabbed his bow. “Who goes there?” He said. I quickly recovered myself and went on my way. Pa was skilled, but he’d never track me. That night I got to the house and cleaned myself as best as I could. I was too tired to worry if I had done right, watching my own father do such things. Part III: BAHKETH Another year passed and the fall season came. Pa had gotten massive. He couldn’t walk normal as his legs seemed to get in each other’s way. I’d heard someone in the village say he was an ogre. Pa looked very rugged but maintained clean. I obtained a blade to shave with regularly and I did it for both of us. Pa asked me to shave his body too, even though it was very difficult. I followed suit because he once said muscles looked bigger that way. At least this way people wouldn’t say mean things like that. And Pa wouldn’t fight them… I didn’t seek a wife. I met a nice girl in the village once, but Pa quickly scared her away. I wasn’t very interested, but I was determined to keep our clan’s bloodline alive. One night Pa’s bed broke. It was one of the first pieces of furniture I made. He only laughed and said we should just share a bed. I disagreed as we both were far too big for a single bed. If one of us didn’t fall off, it’d surely meet the same doom his bed had met. I’d gotten very skilled using tools and made a better bed for Pa. I found mine broken (with obvious assumption as to how when Pa told me he might have taken a nap on it) but made no argument. It was just proof that I was a skilled craftsman if the bed didn’t break, right? I didn’t get much bigger since the year before, but Pa said I did great. I smiled often when he measured my growth. I was starting to wish to be as big as him. He would sometimes show off in the village. He picked up men in each arm and would curl them like he did our weights (Which, by the way, I had to replace with bigger ones…) and would pull great animal-sized carts with ease. Things took a turn for the worst at night. I started planting more things and did very well. I grew lots of cucumbers and started harvesting. I found one missing and eventually learned what Pa had done with it. On his usual ‘cooling’ nights when he’d get his terrible fevers, he played with the cucumber. He would push it inside of himself, moaning and making many noises that bothered me. I found myself spilling my seed as my needs asked for something I shouldn’t have wanted. I started wondering if that was what Pa wanted, and started experimenting myself. I went down to the village one day and made friends. They seemed to make fun of me for not understanding sex as well as them, but I think they feared me. I was very strong and known as Hunter Son. Maker Hunterson. They didn’t laugh at me in front of me. One of them brought a harlot along and had her spend time with me. I learned that I didn’t like what she had to offer. Pa became more verbal that fall. “Do you like my size, boy?” He said, very seriously once. “Yes, Pa. You know I do.” I said, laughing. We sat on the ground, cleaning beans. “I don’t think I can get any bigger. I want to be bigger. I want to always take care of you, lad.” He said, tossing my hair in his hand, as if I was a boy still. I felt like a boy, always smaller than him. “I doubt I will, though. I can only get older from here on.” I pondered a while on what he said. I found myself later walking through the cursed woods, holding my bow ready. I was stronger now, and I knew I didn’t have to be afraid. The Wise Woman taught me how to make holy items. I wasn’t good at it, unusually, but she said that the items would drive away evil spirits no matter what. I never told her what I was doing anything for, but I’m sure she knew something was going on long before I had. I stepped through the thick brush- thicker than I remembered. Pa would go hunting by himself. Said he wanted to find himself a bear. I felt sorry for the bear. I pushed back the thick green and saw the cave again. It’d been two years, maybe more. I stood in front of the cave. It had changed since I was there last. It looked cleaner, as if it were more of a temple. I slowly walked in and looked around. There was much lighter than before. The heat was heavier too, I could feel my chest breathe in humid air. The altar was much more well-kept now than ever in my memory. The statuette sat there, waiting for me. “Well, well, well…” huffed the spirit. “Hello, Bahketh. I greet you with respect.” I said. I wasn’t nervous. “I hope you do, but I really hope you greet me with more…” He whispered, rubbing my body with his unseen warmth. “I seek nothing, Bahketh. At least nothing for myself.” I said, pulling out a small bag. “What is that, young man? My, you’ve gotten so much bigger on your own, without my help. Well, direct help. Do you like that power?” He fizzled. I opened the bag and let out the contents. I had obtained a box of incense. It was very rare, I’d received it as a gift for helping the counsel of the village stop a pack of bandits with my father, from a prominent family’s daughter. Jewels dropped out, all from different mountains from afar. “There is something I want,” I managed to say before Bahketh interrupted. “I know what you want. Your father is a very strong man. But he wants more, yes?” Bahketh asked. “Yes, oh great one.” “Maker? Boy?” I heard from outside the cave. I turned around. Pa was there. He looked over at the altar and back at me. “What’s going on here?” He asked. “Where are we? I followed you because I was worried. Should I be worried?” “Pa! How did you follow me?” I asked, nervously. “I followed your smell –I mean- tracks.” He said. “Come, my acolyte.” Bahketh whispered. Pa walked slowly, without hesitation. “Your boy wants to make you bigger. Stronger. You want that, yes?” Bahketh asked. Pa stared at the statue before processing all the information. “Yes! That’s what I want! Wait- is this- is this how I’ve gotten so strong?! I’ve never felt this way in my entire life! It’s amazing! I feel so powerful!” Pa said. Bahketh laughed. “Your boy is no normal man. He is a Maker, just as his name states. He has the power to focus magic. You should thank him as much as you should thank me.” Pa looked over at me. I noticed the erection he was growing. He was practically glowing. “Your boy and I are also alike in other forms. He is benevolent, like me. He wants to make you even stronger.” Bahketh whispered. “Is that true, son? You can make me stronger? I want to be stronger, boy! I want to be the strongest!” Pa said, grabbing my arm. He then pulled me in and embraced me. I’d never felt the way he made me feel when he embraced me. “Well- Bahketh granted the wish. What do you want, oh Great Spirit?” I said, nervously. “I want your Pa to give me his name. But he can’t do it by himself, you need to give it to me.” Bahketh said. “I don’t understand.” I said. “Why don’t you ask your father?” Bahketh said with a grimace. I could see his smile in the fire of the altar. Pa looked nervous. I looked over to him and asked, “What does he mean?” It took him some time before responding. He seemed to think about it a bit before Bahketh complained loudly. He made the room burning hot. Pa finally answered. “Our clan gives up our names to the person we love the most. It’s a tradition we hold in the spring. I did it a few years ago for you. It’s usually something for marriage… But I have nobody, lad. I always have only had you.” He said. “And that means that he doesn’t own his own name. You do. The binds of your clan’s tradition make it so he can’t do anything. I will grant you this wish, if you want me to, but you have to give me his name.” “I-I don’t think I should be doing that!” I yelled. I still understood very little. I looked back and forth at both of them, skin red hot with embarrassment. “Boy, please! I want to be the strongest!” Pa said. He held me close, almost crushing me. He posed his arms and smiled before embracing me again. I desperately remember his embrace. “But Pa, I don’t want to make this decision for you! Why don’t you just take back your name?” I said, trying to pull out of his grasp. I didn’t want to, really. “I can’t do that, boy…” Pa said. He looked sad at me. I knew what he meant. He didn’t have to say it. “And that’s all, right? You’ll make him the strongest as long as you have his name?” I asked the flame spirit. “He’ll be as big and strong as he wants. All I need is his name.” Bahketh said. “Just say ‘I give thy true name away, Hunter, to the great spirit BAHKETH.” I breathed in heavily and held it in. “I give thy true name away, Hunter, to the great spirit BAHKETH.” I smiled at Pa and held his hand. I’d never held his hand, at least not to my memory as boy or man. I laid mine inside his one last time. Pa smiled back at me, with his big smile. “YES! FINALLY!” Bahketh screamed. The statuette fell to the side and cracked. Out came the flame and grabbed onto my papa’s face. A shockwave sent me flying. Bahketh’s cackle filled echoed on and on. The flamed disappeared as it went into my pa’s mouth. “Pa?” I grumbled, rubbing my neck. “I don’t feel much different,” Pa said, looking back at me. He then screamed and held his stomach. “Oh… Oh! It burns! Gah! It burns!” Pa screamed. He trembled as his skin went red hot. He fell to his knees as he screamed again. His hands grabbed his head as he howled. Pa’s forehead quickly pushed out two small horns, little points that poked under his long hair. The mark on his back began to spread its ink, like a black flower. It covered his chest and upper legs, like vines around to his neck. Pa then began to moan. He seemed to stay alive and well even if the flames came alive on him. At first I saw his arms shake. His shoulders widened and found more space close to Pa’s neck. He growled as his arms weighed heavy with swelling muscle- it looked like a pumpkin was stuffed under his skin on both sides. His hands, however big they were, seemed very small as his arms trembled. I tried to come closer and even shot an arrow at the altar in hopes of distracting (and maybe stopping) Bahketh. The arrow evaporated in flame quickly before reaching the altar and I felt the singe of the fires myself a few steps in. I could not get close as my pa’s arms moved up from the pushing of his enlarging back. He looked like an hourglass as the sides of his midsection popped out like small wings. “Bigger! I want to be bigger! It feels so good!” I pulled out my crude amulets in hopes to use them against the foul spirit. Bahketh cackled the moment I pulled them out. They crumbled in my hands. My eyes let out tears as I saw father’s stance widen. His legs had become thicker than many young trees of the forest. They looked denser too. His abdomen cracked as the bricks on his abdomen pushed outward. I started feeling the warmth in my groin again, in shame. Pa’s close tore as his chest exploded outward along with his legs. “So good! So fucking strong!” Pa said, flexing his body as he grew. His rod pushed out from the burning clothes, swelling up in a size I could never imagine fitting a normal human. It looked thicker than my forearm. Somehow it lifted upward even with the massive weights that were under it, both sized like many fruits from the garden. It simply bobbed up and down and trickled seed onto the ground. Pa thoroughly enjoyed what was happening, even though his head seemed to be being swallowed by his massive body. Bahketh laughed and let the fires die down as my father started fondling himself. Pa’s chest had stretched out his nipples like coins, yet grown them outward to large nubs that he moaned when played with. I breathed heavily as I tried to remain capable of clear thought. Bahketh whispered terrible things in my ears, caressing my body in a softer heat. He tempted me. Pa stroked himself as his height increased to accommodate his growth. I’d say he was about eight feet tall at the end of the ordeal, but I couldn’t keep track of such things. He moaned and yelled out in a thick, deep voice. It was deeper than before, like the growl of a beast in the woods. My pa could no longer contain himself and spewed outward, shooting far into the air and away from where he stood. It came like a river of white, splashing and somehow not evaporating from the embers that had dwindled with the ending growth. I felt myself wet inside my gear, but not from fear and piss, but longing. I longed for my pa’s massive body to touch me. “Foolish boy! Do you know who I am?!” Bahketh finally exclaimed. His voice seemed to cover my pa’s. Pa’s eyes themselves had gone white. “I am BAHKETH! Efreeti of Lust, Fire, and Strength! Genie of Smolder and Ecstasy! The pinnacle of all flames! None are stronger than I! I fell from grace, but now I will return to the material world I was once barred from, so full of delicious pleasures! All thanks to you, my boy! Or should I say, my son?” I felt my heart sink deeper than I will ever remember. I understood what Bahketh had done. The statuette lifted into the air and cracked, letting out a small tear in time-and-space open. Now I know what had happened. I saw Bahketh’s truest form. It barely peered into our world as he commanded Pa to walk over to me. I stood there, afraid and aroused. Pa walked up to me. He was not Pa anymore, but not Bahketh. He grabbed me and squeezed me in his palms. I thought he would kill me but he simply tore off my clothes. The possessed man pushed me onto his skin, letting me feel the mass. I felt Pa’s massive chest, rock solid and burning hot. He forced my mouth open to taste Pa’s stone-like abdomen. I felt a shameful delight as my phallus hardened in its own rock-like density. The possessed Pa licked my own body, tasting different parts and biting where he saw fit. My neck, my buttocks, my sides. He bit hard enough to hurt, but not enough to pierce through. I closed my eyes in hopes of living, in hopes of forgiveness should my pa come to his senses. “Tell me you like my mass, boy.” Pa said, deep and slow. “N-no, Pa… Please… Stop this… We can get away…” “Feel these arms. Feel how strong and powerful they are.” I couldn’t hold on and finally whispered, “…It’s amazing, Pa.” "Do you want to be crushed between these great legs?" He said, forcing my hands onto them. I felt their density on my fingers. My chest couldn't contain the energy I received from the arousal. "You're gigantic, Pa..." I said, moving my hands around on the striations. Pa’s mouth landed on mine. I couldn’t stop myself and tasted the inside. It was somehow sweet, like fresh fruit cooked in a warm fire, yet different. His tongue played around with mine, long enough to touch the insides of my throat. I thought I’d choke but I only moaned. Pa held me in the air with ease as he did this, finally letting me feel his massive rod touch me. His tongue licked mine. I whimpered at the amazing sensation. He fit mine in his mouth and suckled as he lifted my legs over his shoulders. I moaned and felt the ecstasy wisp me away. Pa pulled me out of his mouth and then licked elsewhere. I feel great shame for he licked me in an awful place. It felt so pleasurable, it bothers me today. His tongue pierced through and played around inside me. I finally understood why Pa liked to do this to himself. Pa finally pulled me down to his own throbbing member and pushed my mouth on it. It was literally too big to fit inside, but he was gentle. He simply growled, “Lick it, boy. Satisfy your papa.” And I followed suit. He moaned quickly and played with my body as well as his own. He pushed his hands over mine so I could feel his massive legs while I licked. I was lost. I had no congruent thought. “I curse you, Maker Hunterson. I curse you to lust as badly as your father did, every night thinking of giving your own name to me…” Bahketh whispered under my pa’s voice. I looked up and saw the black tear that dripped from Pa’s eye. He smiled still as the tear dripped away and evaporated on the burning ground. Pa came again. He drenched me in seed, cooked like milk in the winter morning. I opened my mouth and swallowed what I could. It tasted like honey. I moaned and came as well, whimpering as the sensation squeezed my groin tighter than ever. It hurt as it tightened out every last drop inside me. I heard the voice in the window cackle. A colossal arm -both muscular and bigger than even Pa’s- smashed through. The voice growled loudly in its own beastly form as another arm stretched the doorway out. I could see Bahketh’s smoldering orange eyes. His name burned on my arm, unfinished but obviously his. I screamed in pain as it burned to the bone. Bahketh laughed and petted my papa. “My acolyte. You shall walk the earth, spreading my name in the shadows. When the time has come I shall become a glorious god as I so deserve.” Bahketh said, voice booming. It was certainly not a whisper anymore. Pa turned as the seed forced me to change slowly. I fell to the ground as my body became led. Pa walked towards the door and bowed. “Yes, master.” He said. “But now, you shall enjoy true paradise. Come to me, my acolyte. Enter the plane of Lust, where my flaming abode hides. Our enemies have been winning for so long, and we must plan… We must rejoice your coming home. I shall soon take even the planes of the Abyss and Heaven as my own.” The portal stretched even more so. Bahketh’s face smiled with teeth like a monster’s. His red skin burned with embers and eldritch-orange symbols. He caressed my pa as he walked into the burning doorway. I could only whisper my Pa’s name before I began sensing the loss of it in my existence. I felt my bones push and break as my body grew when Pa looked back at me once more. I still think the pain was worse in my heart than it was in my body. I would have screamed as the door closed, leaving the cave steaming and alone. I lay, growing slowly and painfully. I could feel everything; the bones cracking, the muscle tearing. All of it, before the growth rebuilt me. It felt pleasurable underneath the pain. To this day I want more, in secret shame. I felt my arms swell and my neck become thick. My legs felt like pillars in a temple, heavy as well. My eyes opened as I saw the thunder rolled in the night sky. I got up very slowly, trying to move with the new size. I looked at my body, remembering what my Pa’s looked like. I would certainly be a weaker scout now, but that was fine. I needed to become a warrior. I needed to find a way to defeat the foul genie, Bahketh. I stumbled around, learning how to use the self-obtrusive legs I had just obtained. My groin felt heavy already with seed as I looked down at a massive member that swung from side to side. I didn’t get far before having to release. I met the Wise Woman in the dark. She said my voice had become even deeper. The rain helped conceal me. I begged her for advice. The Wise Woman told me this was certainly beyond her power. I cried in agony. She gave me a pendant that had been passed down to her. It carried the symbol of an ancient people. She said that the mountains hid a strange prison whose lock was now broken beyond repair. I asked for her forgiveness. The Wise Woman said nothing. I learned later I had been fated to release the burning djinn long before. Her people had dwindled (ironically like mine) and hid amongst the village. They were prepared to end their bloodline. I prepared to end mine. The pendant was to help me find someone who could battle the bastard, but that was the only help the Wise Woman gave me. I returned to the house and packed what I could. I packed extra to head to the village and trade. Nobody recognized me in the darkness of the rain and night. I quickly obtained a sword and things a traveler could use. I gave up my tools. I was no longer a maker. I was no longer anyone. I write in this journal, hoping that if I should fail, someone finds it. I can feel Bahketh’s whispers at night. I can feel his hands toying with me. I know the knowledge to give him my being is hidden in the dark depths of my mind. Every day is a struggle. I want that power and strength. I beg the spirits of the land –the only few benevolent left- that they guide me to death before my mind finds destruction. But who knows, deep down, I want Bahketh to grow me as much as he can. End? Author End Note: I thank you very much for reading my work. Please suggest themes that you think would be interesting, or tell me what you thought could use work through a comment! I sincerely hope you liked it.

Born a Leather Musclegod by DC I've known since childhood that I was destined to be a man whom other men serve, both sexually and in everyday life. Like many men, at an early age I had learned about my penis, and how it was designed by nature to control others while bringing me intense pleasure. Unlike other men, I was born with additional, enhanced talents, abilities and physical traits that predestined me to a position of uncontested superiority. The source of these differences isn't clear to me. Mutation? Metaphysical changes through reincarnation? Dumb luck? I think that I'm an "old soul" - the outcome of a combined effect of reincarnation and mutation, rather than just some hot leather muscle daddy who has found his way from societal repression into fulfillment of true manhood. It's no joke: I've lived before, many times, and in my most recent lives (as in this one) I was an incredible specimen of a man, loved and feared by many, worshipped, adored, served and serviced, and damn well deserving of everything I had and/or took. With each incarnation, I improve myself. Tribal leader? A war hero, perhaps? Perhaps that soul, having been released from a previous life, chooses the next body carefully, even influences its genetic composition at conception, to further evolve not just the spirit, but the vessel it inhabits in the next cycle. These are just guesses, although they "feel" very right to me. Even so, I'm less interested in the cause than the effect. It would be natural on your part to think me self-delusional at this point. Descriptions of this kind are more of a fantasy than reality. I assure you it is the truth. If you meet me in person, you will understand. The best way I can explain it is that I am more than the physical man you see, and that I've existed much longer than the scant 50 years he has lived on this earth. I've earned my place as a god among men, and I don't abuse the privilege. Instead, I seek to elevate and further evolve the men I choose. I physically alter them and train them not just to service me as their master, but to love me as they would a strict and caring father who is raising them to become something more than they would have been without my influence. Looking at me today, you would see a 6-foot 3-inch, bearded, muscled bear-of-a-man dressed in worn denim and leather, from boots to chaps to vest to cap. I'm confident, commanding, in control, and never lacking men to do my domestic and sexual bidding. I believe in understated clothing and accessories: simple and never flashy, but clearly and carefully chosen as a statement of who I am, not a fashion statement. My body is massively muscular, but not the ripped bodybuilder you see at a pose-down. Instead, you see a big bull with a salt-and-pepper full beard, imposing physique, and intense yet reassuring blue eyes. My chest is broad and deep, dusted with soft brown fur and accented with large, beefy nipples - spigots of raw male power that naturally draw men to them for nourishment, then rest in the cleft between them. My arms are thick and roped, endowed with great strength to keep a boy in line, or to protect him when needed. My neck is thick, traps rising from bunched deltoids to the base of my skull, as if I am wearing a fantastically sculpted, high collar one can throw his arms around and hold on to. My legs are like concrete pylons, massive and thick, that can stand up to the most brutal assault of any enemy who may try to knock me down, or tantrum a boy may stupidly decide to throw. My abdomen is a huge slab of muscles covered by a soft layer of belly fat and more fur, making it a warm, safe place to curl up and sleep. But my cock... my cock is what makes me a god. Among the many things I have developed through improving myself physically over many lives is the ability to control penis size at will. Most men are subject to the whims of their dicks as to when they will get hard, how hard they will become, and when the will reach climax. I can will my cock to be any size and shape within reason. When I am ready to use a man, I assess his limits and capabilities, then adapt my cock to the situation. As I train him repetitively, and as he physically changes from exposure to me, he may eventually take me at my full size. My ejaculate is sweet and addictive. More than just the taste, it induces several changes, both physical and emotional, in any man who ingests it. I will revel in my ownership for an hour or more before releasing my essence into him. The sheer power that flows through my cock when it is in his mouth or ass, and the transformative effects of my seed once inside him, create an unbreakable affinity between us. Almost immediately upon absorbing it, he develops a very deep devotion to me. He never forgets the overwhelming sensation of pure male energy entering and changing his body as I extract my pleasure from him. He becomes my "son" in a very real way. The more often I cum inside him, the more devoted, solicitous, and like me he will become. My semen is like a benign virus - protein molecules that change and replicate inside a man's cells, modifying his genetic code to include sequences from my own, superior genes. Over time, and depending on the amount consumed, he becomes more muscular, confident, sexually competent, and able to conquer other men as a daddy in his own right, further spreading a moderated, less powerful derivative of my seed to other boys. All of this I now know as an adult. Looking in retrospect upon my formative years, I only knew then that I had needs, desires, expectations of how they should be met, and the destiny of which I spoke. In my youth, I could only attribute this knowledge to a wildly active fantasy life. I was masturbating at an early age, looking at adult men with lust and longing. Bearded. Muscular. Cigar smoking. Ideal images of rugged manhood. Although many of them brought out a boyish response in me - to be close to them, to feel and touch - the overriding drive was to conquer and use them. But fantasy was all it was for many, many years. I was born and raised in an ultra-conservative region, and religious injunctions that had been foisted upon me sexual thoughts of any but the most puritanical origin. (They say you can't choose your parents, and apparently, this also applies to masters reincarnate.) My fantasies were so far-flung from the accepted norm that I buried my true nature deeply. As I matured through adolescence and into adulthood, I battled constantly to keep my real self at bay, constrained. I must say that growing up in such an environment was not without its advantages. For in battling 24x7 to contain that self, I developed strengths of character in perseverance and patience. I learned compassion for others, seeing them as caged animals often kept from what they wanted and desired by the artificial limits of a fearful society. Not only did I see myself in a trap, being denied my real identify, but I also saw other men similarly shackled. The difference was that the man I held in prison was destined to a superior station in life. The others wanted desperately to submit and be ruled. As I grew older, keeping that man in chains became increasingly difficult. He was not accustomed to confinement, as clearly in my past life I had been uncontested in dominion of myself and my chattel. He incessantly nagged me to grow and change physically into the bullish brute that would bend other men to his desires. Although I had what would be an insatiable appetite for the male form, I was very careful not to feed it. Men who had developed their bodies into those of muscular gods were a particular hazard that I avoided. I also worked especially hard to avoid any physical development of my own body, knowing that to begin catering to that desire would be to empower the man inside to break free. I was convinced I must go the grave with him inside that closet. Otherwise, I would disappoint everyone whom I thought really cared about me. But the man inside proved too strong. My true nature would not be constrained. As I entered early adulthood, a change began that could not be stopped - only delayed. I focused on academic endeavors during my 20s, only briefly giving thought to the problem of the bound titan god inside me who was slowly loosening his bonds. By my 30s, I had a career on steroids, but my life was miserable and my health a mess. Still, the once-all-powerful master wrapped within me was breaking through the barriers I had set before him, one by one. By age 40, it was too much. I realized that my reasons for living a chaste life and denying the man inside were not worthy of my efforts. Through many events, I learned that the people I held in high esteem - those whom I wished to impress and not disappoint - didn't really care about me. This was the last chain to break, and my alter-ego was free to emerge. Things happened quickly after that. By age 42 I had been working out constantly for two years, and my body had undergone changes nothing short of miraculous. At first, I felt regret that I had not figured this out sooner so that I would have the supposed advantage of youth to further fuel my transformation. But I was wrong. As I observed other, much younger men, laboring daily with weights and machines to add a few millimeters to their dimensions, I was rapidly passing them in how much work I performed, as well as sheer size. I was already tall, but I had been either skinny or obese my entire life, on purpose. Now, the muscles practically blossomed overnight. My chest quickly grew to an astounding 54". My biceps, 22". My triceps stood out in huge, bulky mounds on either arm. My pecs were deep, with insanely large nipples resting atop each one, just slightly turned at a 45-degree angle towards to floor. And although I still had a good bit of belly, there was no doubt to anyone that huge slabs of hard abdominals dwelt just below that superficial layer. As I grew into my full manhood, I learned how to bring a man to heel, press him into service, and use him as I saw fit - all of it with his willing and enthusiastic support. I say "learned" but it was really just a matter of exercising old knowledge. I knew exactly what to do, and did it instinctively once I took my skeptical self out of the picture - all I had to do was mentally step back from the situation, then watch as the old-soul part of me deftly orchestrated the scene and the man in expert fashion. ***** My first attempt to let go and "see what happens" was also when I discovered the latent abilities I had inherited from previous lives, now that the man inside was free. I had been chatting with a hot little muscle man online. (Well, he was little compared to me.) Initially he had been cocky in his interactions, using informal language and typing shortcuts that I disdain, referring to me as "man" and typing things like "how u doin?" and, in general, taking a very familiar attitude with me. This was disrespectful and required correction if I were to continue in our chats. I soon established myself as an authority figure through using only the power of my written words. Then, I quickly taught him basic protocols that I supposed I had heard or read about, but now I realize, were bits of the old knowledge already seeping through to my conscious mind. The first lessons were that he referred to me as "Sir" and that he remember he had (I assumed) learned to write proper English at school, and I expected him to use it. Slowly, he fell into line. Over time, his real desires started coming to the forefront. For weeks he had begged to come serve me. Although I had been experimenting with man-to-man sex for many months, I was still being very skittish about meeting men like this cocky asshole. I had enjoyed what I had done so far, but it was too tame. I had decided to become much more assertive and dominating in my sexual relations, and I wasn't sure I could put him and keep him in his place. He nagged me to the point that I finally issued orders of when and where he was to appear, and how I wanted him prepped and dressed. I dressed in a pair of old Levi's, a black wife-beater, utility boots, and master's cap with a scorpion bracelet around my left wrist, assuming he knew the importance of that placement choice. Dominants flag left. Everyone knew that, didn't they? Otherwise, how could I have known it? Again, the unexplained knowledge dribbling through the chinks separating me from my aggregate past life was beginning to show itself. I prepared a space to receive him by placing my black leather chair in front of a full length mirror. I placed candles on either side of the chair and turned out the room lights, then I lit a large cigar just as he arrived. I had been developing cigars as part of my leather daddy persona, and I was surprised at how natural it as to me. It was as if I had smoked them all my life. I also had a penchant for strong bourbon, a large glass of which was on the small table to my left. I had noticed in bars how others took so much pride in downing a shot of it. I drank it in gulps with no problem, but never bothered to question how I was able to do that when others couldn't. The boy arrived on time; I had warned him about being too early or late. Keeping his eyes down at all times, he removed his clothing, and took a position between my booted feet at the foot of the chair as I had previously instructed. I had told him this was called "First Position" but I wasn't sure where I got that name. By this time, I had put my "new self" on the sidelines and given my "old self" complete control. (He) I drew heavily on the cigar and took my damn sweet time before acknowledging the boy. A few sips of bourbon, then finally I raised my boots and put them on his back as if he were a stool. My new-self was astonished and hugely turned on. My old-self simply continued smoking and drinking bourbon while admiring his boots and the candle-lit scene reflected in the mirror. The boy was shaking, with little gasps and whimpers escaping from his lowered mouth as he breathed rapidly. After many minutes, I removed my boots and placed my hand on his head. "Lift up, boy. Look at me." He did, and his eyes went very wide with a look of awe. "Oh, my god!" he gasped. "Yes, boy. I'm your god. I'm your master. And I may yet be your daddy if you please me." I said simply. He nodded, not taking his eyes from mine. "Stand up." He did. I walked around him, inspecting him while continuing to fill the room with cigar smoke. He was shorter than I, his head coming up to my nose. About 28 years old, he was muscular, but with a swimmer's body. His hair was wavy and unkempt, but clean. He had no facial hair to speak of. His chest was well defined, but not what you would call "overdeveloped" by any stretch. His ass was ample, and appeared as if it would be yielding to my touch. He was soft, naked, and cold standing before a hot, hairy brute who was intent on using him for all he could deliver. My cock twitched at the thought as I slapped his ass, grabbed it, put my mouth next to one of his ears and said "Mine." My voice was low and brusque, with an almost imperceptible growl. The boy made no response other than a violent shiver and whimper that ran through his body. I slapped his ass again twice as hard and grabbed the globe of his left butt cheek viciously between my fingers. At nearly triple the volume, I barked into his ear, "Mine, boy! What do you say?" He hesitated a moment, then understood he was expected to respond. "Yes. Yes, SIR!" "That's better," I grunted as I violently released the ass cheek, which would surely bear a bruise the next day. He stumbled forward, then regained his balance, though still shivering and not daring to look behind him, where I stood. Without warning (to my new-self, or the boy), I quickly moved around to stand in front of him, took the cigar into my left hand, and with my right at the base of his skull, tilted it upward to face me. Within a second of this lightning move, my tongue invaded his mouth deeply and brutally. The boy squirmed and whimpered at first, but my firm grip gave him nowhere to go. Soon, he settled down and gave himself up to the reality of his situation. My tongue fucked his throat deeply, and the taste and smell of the cigar and bourbon were overpowering his senses even more, with the roughness of my beard and moustache against his tender face creating red patches from the friction. After nearly a minute of this, I gave him one final deep thrust and roughly pulled his head away. He gasped for air, breathing heavily and sobbing, "Oh, Sir... Oh, Sir!" then he looked up at me again, with that expression of awe mixed with fear and longing. I smiled down at him. "Good boy, but my cock will be much more trying." I returned the cigar to my mouth and used my hands to guide and position his mouth near my right pec. Although I didn't set him on it, he instinctively started straining towards the large, mesmerizing nipple hidden beneath the stretched fabric of the wife-beater. I intensified my hold on his neck, causing him to wince and yelp. "Not until I say so, son!" I bellowed. He rolled his eyes up to look at me again. I held him in my gaze as I puffed on the cigar a few times, blowing smoke down and over my massive chest, then released my hold on him. I removed my hat and placed it in reverse on his head, whispering "Hat rack, son," into his ear. Then, carefully manipulating the cigar from hand to hand, I pulled the wife-beater over my head to reveal my chest, threw the shirt to the side, and retrieved the cap, returning it to my own head. "Oh, wow!" exclaimed the boy. The broad expanse of my chest glowed softly in the candlelight, and the fur gave it a fuzzy, soft texture with the two nipples rising above the dense layer, bullets of flesh demanding his attention. Reapplying a vice-like grip on his neck, I tilted his head down and redirected his gaze directly at my right pec and once again covered it with smoke. He whimpered and let out a small moan, wracked with the longing to latch on to that source of masculine power just an inch away, yet helplessly prevented from it. "How does that make you feel, son, being so close to this chest? A little weak? Small? Do you want to touch it? To suck it like a little boy needs to suck so he'll grow up strong? You're just a faggot hoping to drain a little bit of power from a real man, now that you've finally met one. You want it, boy?" I slowly moved the nipple closer to his mouth, and hairs from my chest surrounding it grazed his lips. He could feel the heat of my body and the thick smoke hovering between us, but he still could not suck it. Quickened puffs of air escaped his nostrils, causing ripples in the soft fur and disturbing the heavy, murky veil. He was whimpering again, so I jerked him by the neck to get his attention. "What? I didn't hear you, boy! DO YOU WANT TO SUCK IT!?" I shouted. The sound of my voice was so loud and unexpected it surprised even me. He winced in pain as the explosion fell upon his ears. Then, through sobs and heavy breathing, with his eyes fixated on my nipple, he said "Yes, SIR! Oh, god, yes SIR! Please let me suck your beautiful chest, SIR! I want so bad to taste it, and to make you feel good. Oh, God! You're so incredibly beautiful and handsome. So fucking hot!" Here he broke down and tears began to form at the corner of his eyes. The boy was actually crying, he was so overwrought at discovering his inferiority compared to me. "I wanted to serve you and do anything you command me, but now I know I'm not good enough. I'm afraid of what you said about your cock - I know it must be truly massive, and I don't think I can suck it. And your chest..." More sobs. "...it's so, so incredibly huge, it makes me feel so small. I've never felt so tiny. I've always thought I was such a hot fucker. But I'm nothing. Not compared to you, SIR. You're such a man. So perfect. Why did you tell me to come to you? A god like you can have anyone he wants. Why me, SIR? Why me? Oh, god, I feel like such a worthless worm..." He trailed off, closing his eyes. His tears dripped off the end of his nose and fell into the jungle of hair covering my belly. I felt sorry for him. The cocky asshole was just a subterfuge for an insecure boy. Here was a man faced with the brutal truth of his inadequacy when confronted with a superior being. Here also were the beginnings of contrition, and a desire to take his appropriate place in the order of things, now that that order was beyond doubt. I reinforced my grip on his neck and barked "SUCK!" as I drove his mouth onto my waiting nip. He instinctively opened his lips and began sucking, stilly crying, with his whimpering increasing in tempo and pitch. His tears flowed faster, splashing onto my pec which was also beginning to glisten with the sweat of my excitement in breaking this man. But I found myself dissatisfied with his efforts, feeling that I was not receiving the full benefit of what he should be able to provide. After a few minutes of very tentative nursing, I said "What the fuck are you doing, son? Are you even on that teat? You'll have to be a lot less timid to get my attention, little man. Suck harder, and chew a little bit and let's see if you can!" Again some hesitation, then compliance. I could feel a faint tingling as he began to apply something more like what I really wanted, although he still had a long way to go in learning to service me this way. "Harder, son!" He sucked and chewed harder. The pleasure in my nipple increased, and my cock began to grow in response. "FUCK YEAH, BOY! SUCK THAT MAN NIP!" It was like turning up a volume knob. The boy went into a frenzied overdrive of sucking and chewing, beginning to sweat. The pleasure he was creating was something I had not felt before in this life. It was an intense mix of pleasure and pain that was further drawing out old-me and getting him plenty aroused. "AWWWWW.....FUCK!" I heard myself yelling, expelling huge clouds of cigar smoke with every breath. Then, without warning, I forcefully relocated his head to the other side. "Now the other one, boy. SUCK!" By now, he was getting the idea of nipple service, and I was feeling for the first time the intense pleasure I could experience when I had a slave to do my bidding. Clearly, my old-self was used to this, quite accustomed to this level of stimulation that could only come from a submissive man rendering service. (He) I let the sucking continue for a few minutes, then simply moved the boy's head away from the nipple and forced it to the cleavage between my mounded pectorals. "Lick." By now I had generated rivulets of sweat between the mats of hair that grew most dense in that valley, and I wanted to feel his tongue clean it out completely, which he did. I then raised my right arm and turned slightly to the left, guiding his head to my right pit. "LICK! Clean out that pit, boy!" He approached hesitantly until he got wind of the scent coming from there. Then he moaned softly and practically fell against me as he buried his face in the pubic hair, devouring the sweat and salt that had accumulated. I flexed the biceps of my right arm above him and commanded "Feel my arm, boy!" He only slightly disengaged from his pit diving expedition to raise his hands to feel. The muscle stood in a massive mound opposite the similarly flexed triceps beneath it, and the boy moaned as he realized he could never hope to encircle my arm with both of this hands. "Lick my biceps. Taste some man muscle." Dutifully, he began licking the mountains of muscle, and his whimpering increased. Under his breath, he began to moan "Oh, SIR! You're such a fucking MAN, sir! Oh, god, I want to please you so bad, SIR! I want you to use me. You deserve to use me. Please use me, SIR! Oh, god, use me, SIR! Please!" "FUCK YEAH, SON! Good boy!" I barked, continuing to smoke the cigar and blowing smoke over the whole muscle-worshipping affair. It intoxicated the boy further and he seemed to be on the verge of hyperventilating, gasping "...use me... ...so fucking huge... ...oh daddy... ...so hot..." between labored breaths. Rather than moving him to the other arm as the old-self seemed to think would be the appropriate next step, I instead caught the boy in my arms and lowered him to the floor on his knees, before the chair. I sat down, removed the cigar from my mouth, took a healthy swig of bourbon, replaced the cigar and drew heavily on it, then placed my left hand on the boy's head, guiding it to the crotch of my jeans and pressing his face there. "Nuzzle," I said, the smoke rolling from my mouth down my chest and belly and over the boy's head. I pressed him again for emphasis. He began to rub his nose around the area, and I felt irritation at his timidity. "NUZZLE, BOY! Get it wet with your spit!" Again, I pressed his face into the rough fabric, eliciting another yelp. But he got the message, and soon I could see a wet spot develop across the buttoned fly. My cock was beginning to take notice, stiffening quickly. The boy was getting excited at the growing member just inches from his face, though hidden still by the denim. I became concerned I might reach a climax too soon, he was getting me so hot. "Not yet!" I said to myself. My cock instantly stopped growing. Then, like a childhood memory you've forgotten until you hear a song you haven't heard since those early years, I had full recollection and utility of the ability, developed over past lives, to create and alter erections and ejaculation at will. "Fuck yeah...." I said out loud, regarding the import of this revelation. The boy, of course, thought I was further complimenting him and mumbled "Thank you, SIR!" through the folds of my jeans. I realized there was no danger of pre-ejaculation, so I willed myself to continue enlarging until there was a sizeable, constrained lump beneath the fabric. The boy's state of arousal grew with my cock, and he was moaning as he covered the mound of my hidden dick with his spit. After a few more minutes of smoking and enjoying the boy's nuzzling, I lifted his head. "Look at me, son. How are you feeling? Do you like what you're doing?" I was truly interested to hear what he would say. I knew instinctively that some boys just want to be fucked, and they'll do anything, including faking the submissive role, to get it. Although I had little doubt about this boy's sincerity after all that had happened so far, I wanted to hear it out loud. "Oh, yes, SIR! I will do anything you tell me to do! Just, please don't send me away. Even if you let me sit in a cage in the corner to be in the same room with you, don't make me leave! I will be your footstool again, SIR, or clean your house. Anything! Just tell me, beautiful and powerful master. Tell me and I will do it!" My new-self was flabbergasted at this outburst from the man before me. Old-me wa not surprised in the least, but seemed to fully expect the reaction based on a vast experience of similar interactions. The boy had totally given himself to me and was mine to do with as I pleased. The formalism of his speech made it impeccably clear that he now revered me and saw any service he could render as an act of holy devotion. These thoughts made my cock jump beneath the saliva-soaked denim. I knew I wanted to breed him, and make him mine. His admission only served to make me crueler and more abusive in my use of him, because I could, and he craved it. "Lick my boots, boy!" "Sir?" "I SAID FUCKING LICK MY BOOTS, FAGGOT!" With that, I bent over, placed my firm hand on the back of his head again, and maneuvered it to the floor and my right boot. "LICK." He dutifully began to lick. I thought it was amazing he even had the courage to lick a dirty boot, but old-me didn't think so, nor was he satisfied. "That's piss-poor, boy. Not how you lick a man's boot! Get that tongue going. I want to feel the pressure of it on my foot inside the boot. And cover every goddamned inch or you'll know what it means to feel some real disciplinary pain. I want to see it shining with your spit in the candlelight." The boy increased the pressure of his licking, and the feel of his pathetic tongue trying to reach me through the thick leather of the boots had me vocally encouraging and degrading him simultaneously. "Aw, yeah, son! That's how you lick a man's boots. You're a fucking faggot that was born to lick my boots, boy. Don't forget it!" "Yes, SIR!" he managed to get out in gasps between licks. "I WANNA HEAR YOU SAY IT, SON: I'M A FUCKING FAGGOT THAT WAS BORN TO LICK YOUR BOOTS, SIR! SAY IT!" I was yelling at the top of my lungs. Even though I live on five acres, I was sure the neighbors had probably heard that one. Old-me hoped they had. Immediately, in a high-pitched hurried stream of words he shouted, "I'm a fucking faggot that was born to lick your boots, most beautiful, handsome, and all deserving SIR!" The embellishment was unexpected, but very pleasing and I said so. "DAMN RIGHT, SON!" THAT'S WHAT I WANTED TO HEAR. NOW, OTHER BOOT!" It took a moment for the command to sink in, and I started to bend forward to enforce the order when he quickly jumped to the other side. "Good boy!" I roared, sinking back and puffing on my cigar in approval. He was learning. I was pleased. This one would be a good, long term project to train. And that thought, I knew, came from the old-me, who was used to identifying and sorting boys based on their abilities and potentials. After another few minutes of verbal encouragement mixed with abuse, I retargeted the boy again. "Crotch. Nuzzle." Without hesitation this time, the boy was back to the wet crotch, lathing it again with more of his spit. He didn't seem sure what to do with his hands, though. He just held them out to the side, apparently afraid to touch me, and it annoyed me. "What's wrong with your arms, boy?" He responded without removing his face from my crotch, "Nothing, SIR!" "Then why the hell are you holding them out there like some kind of rag doll?" He stopped nuzzling and looked up at me quizzically. "I don't dare touch you, SIR, without your permission." "Damn, good boy," I thought. "Learning fast and definitely a keeper." I was immensely pleased at this response, which further confirmed that he now regarded me quite appropriately as a godlike figure. I said out loud, "When nuzzling, you are permitted to reach up and feel my chest, or to feel my legs or boots. In fact, when you eventually service my cock, I'll expect you to damn well worship chest, belly, arms, balls, legs and boots with your hands while your mouth continuously pleasures me." "Yes, SIR!" he said, clearly excited at the prospect. "In fact, son, I think it's time for you two to meet," I said as I placed the cigar in mouth and reached down to unbutton the fly. I thought that my cock should be semi-erect and average length for the introduction. It responded to the thought in seconds, taking its new shape just as I exposed it. "Oh..." the boy gasped. He was wide-eyed and hypnotized by this display of pure manhood. "You like it, son?" "SIR, it is beautiful! Oh, Daddy! Let me worship and please you through it! Please?!" He had called me "Daddy." I wasn't going to object. We had already established my superiority, my worthiness to demand his worship, and now we were further establishing my role as mentor and father-figure. "We'll have to train you, son. It won't be easy, and you will be damaged unless I prepare you for it. Do you think my cock is large?" He slowly nodded his head, "Oh, yes, SIR! So perfect!" "It is only half hard, boy. I want you to see the full extent of your daddy's manhood, and you'll know why training will be important." With that, I extended my cock to full length, girth, and hardness. The new-me was as astonished as the boy. I had no idea I could achieve such dimensions! Until now, I had measured 7-inches in length and just under 6-inches in circumference. The fleshy column that now sprung from my loins was more than formidable. Without a ruler I couldn't be sure, but it was at least twice as long and half-again as big around as normal. Only the most trained of mouths and holes could hope to satisfy it in that form. The boy was clearly thinking the same thing. He turned white as a sheet, his face fell with dismay, but an expression still mixed with awe. I thought he would remark at the unexplained change in size, but any observation or comment was cut short by the dominating, hypnotic effect of the fully erect 14-inch monster cock. "Oh, SIR! You are a god, SIR! Your cock is a god-cock, SIR! Oh, fuck, what am I going to do, SIR? I want to suck it and service it so badly! I want to show you that I can be a good boy and bring you incredible pleasure as you deserve and demand, to have it in me, but it would kill me!" "Not necessary for you to die, boy. You'll learn to handle it over time," said the old-me with assurance. The new-me was not at all sure any man could take this phallus in its fully grown form, especially this boy of a man; but, then I had yet to learn about the transformative powers of my cum. Clearly, old-me had already taken this into account. "Sniff it, boy." I puffed on the cigar and sent smoke to enwreathe the pillar of flesh, the mushroom head of which rose as high as my sternum. The boy dutifully brought his nose closer and inhaled. "Good boy. Smell my god-cock!" He took several more deep breaths before I further commanded, "Now, kiss it. Up and down the shaft." Which he dutifully did. The feeling of his tender lips on the flesh of my rock hard fucker was creating tiny explosions of pleasure up and down that freakishly huge shaft, and I knew that this boy was going to work long and hard to fully satisfy my needs this evening. I was damn well going to make sure he did. "Now, I know you can't take it all, son, but just put the head of it into your mouth as far as you can. You'll gag, and I want that. It will help your body to understand just how inferior of a man you are to me. You need to feel and experience the physical reality of what your head and heart already know." Old-me was really well versed in how to cow a man quickly. The boy opened his mouth as wide as he could, but couldn't bring it down over the great domed head of my cock. Getting past it was impossible as long as I kept it in the fully engorged state. "Here, son. I'll help you." I placed my hand on the back of his neck, pressing down, while at the same time reducing the circumference of the shaft and glans until it slid tightly between his cracking lips. His eyes closed, he didn't witness the unnatural diminishment of my girth, but sighed contentedly at having accommodated me, though he didn't yet understand how he had done it. Slowly he advanced his painfully stretched lips, having to stand up and bend over slightly in order to align his mouth and throat with the near 90-degree angle of my cock. But he could take no more than an inch of my length before he began to gag and cough, and my cock twitched with pleasure on every vibration that emanated from his straining body. I laughed, hand on his head, pressing his head further onto my godlike appendage. I began to experience the distant desire to achieve a release, but I knew I wouldn't allow myself the luxury of it for some time yet. The boy dutifully continued in his impossible assignment. In spite of the amusement and sexual enjoyment his spasms provided, I finally said, "Alright, son. Back off of it." He pulled his head up and off the imposing fuck tool, leaving a string of thick spit between his lower lip and the head. "Well, son, how does it make you feel, trying to suck that cock?" "Very small. Very unworthy. Very puny, SIR. I'm surprised I could even get the head of it into my mouth." At this thought, he tilted his head slightly as if realizing something was amiss. Again with the formal style, which he clearly was getting off on using to interact with his new master, he continued: "Since I can't bring you the pleasure you deserve with my pathetic mouth, I beg you to take pleasure from my ass, instead, even though I know it will likely kill me. I would die very happy knowing you had received the satisfaction you are due, and that your god-cock had found enjoyment from my body, even if only for a few moments." I was moved by his devotion, and decided I would also adopt the stilted, formal style of communication he had initiated. It seemed proper. Old-self clearly found it appropriate to the situation. "Again, I say 'not necessary,' boy. I will moderate the dimensions of my cock to suit the situation, as I have already done twice and you failed to notice. Your cock has a mind of its own, but mine is always under my control. Over time you will be able to take the full extent of my godhood." Again, new-me didn't understand why I said this, but it felt right. And, immediately, I willed my cock to a 7-inch by 5-inch slightly larger-than-average dick that the boy could manage, though still with a great deal of effort. His eyes flew open in shock as he saw my penis diminish on cue. "Fuck, SIR! How did you do that?!!" He was truly awestruck now. "Because I am, as you have already acknowledged, a FUCKING GOD." Then, with cigar in mouth, I abruptly stood up from my chair, causing the boy to topple onto his back, nearly missing the mirror. As he looked up at me, I struck my most impressive muscular double-biceps pose, bringing my cock back to full size and heavily drawing on the cigar to release thick, billowing clouds for added effect. Looking down on him with an imperious expression through the dense smoke, I said loudly and flatly: "WORSHIP ME." I held the pose and produced more smoke, growling deeply at the pleasure I felt in displaying my superiority and the effect it produced. The boy recovered to get back on all four knees, head down between my boots, mumbling, "Yes, my master! Yes, my god! Use me, my master! I will be and do anything you want me to, master, just let me worship and serve you!" I continued to hold my pose and smoke, listening to his words of worship and praise, and his heartfelt request to take him into my service, and I was moved to do just that. I would make him mine, and he would be the first of many, though I didn't understand that at the time. Restoring my cock to the size he could manage, I relaxed my pose, tousled his hair, and sat down. The fabric of my jeans was constraining to me, even though the fly was open. I also wanted the boy to get the full picture of my physical superiority, which included my massive legs. "Let's get these jeans off, son," I rumbled. "Remove my boots, first. They zip on the inside." It took a few moments for these words to register, but the boy dutifully chose a boot and searched for the zipper. Finding it, he pulled it down to the base and began pulling the boot off. It was a more difficult chore than he had surmised. "Harder than you thought it'd be, huh, son? I'm a big man, so it takes a good bit of strength to manage my footwear - especially my boots. Just pull straight out and you'll have better success." He took my advice and the boot was soon off. He was about to set it aside, when I caught him. "Smell it. Inside. Deep." He opened the top of the boot like a Halloween treat bag to look inside and tentatively sniffed. I leaned forward and grabbed the back of his head in my right hand and the bottom of the boot in my left, forcing them together. "DEEP, SON! Smell me!" He inhaled deeply and sighed. Then he took several more draughts before reluctantly setting the boot to the side. "Not too far away, son. It goes back on in a minute. Now the other one." After repeating the same routine on the other boot and setting it aside, I stood up briefly to let my jeans slide down to my feet. I was wearing no underwear, anticipating having him suck me off tonight. My cock sprung forward in its limited yet semi-rigid configuration. My quadriceps and glutes filled his view from his knee-level vantage point. He looked up at me, now mostly naked in the flickering candle light except for my hat, leather bracelet and socks, and said "Oh, fuuuuuuck.... Oh, fuuuuuuck!" I sat back down as he regained his composure and slid the garment over and off of my feet. "Fold them. Set them aside." And he did. "Now, boots back on." And he quickly and dutifully replaced them, albeit with a great deal of effort, and pausing ever so slightly to let his hands wander up the extent of my calves and thighs. "Now come closer, son, on your knees." He took the submissive position between my naked legs, boots on either side of his shins and I stiffened my cock. Then, I put my hand on the back of his head and pulled him down onto it. "Suck, son. Take your time. There's no hurry." As I gently pushed into the confines of his sweet mouth, he began to suck so tenderly and so purposefully that I was launched into a state of sheer ecstasy. Although the dimensions did not change, my cock achieved rock hard firmness as my sweet boy made love to it. His worship, his sacrifice of bodily exertion, and the look of earnest devotion on his face as he labored to please me made me feel like a god, indeed. I luxuriated in the knowledge of my superiority over not just him, but any man I might choose. Then I heard old-me giving orders to change the boy's technique. "Up and down the shaft, boy. You're sucking cock, not just nibbling on the head." Dutifully, the boy began moving his lips up and down the length of my swollen member. I had thought he was doing a good job, but now the pleasure more than doubled. Old-me knew how to work a boy well. "Good, son. That's it. Just like that for now. Don't forget those nips!" By this time, my cigar was nearly a nub and the glass of bourbon was empty. With my cock fully engaged in the boy's care, his eager fingers tweaking my nips, caressing my big chest and belly, I unwrapped another cigar, cut the end, and lit it, then poured some fresh liquor. Sighing contentedly, I settled back a little in the chair to resume my reverie as the boy continued his service. "Fuck yeah, son...." I rumbled lazily, "...that's how you do it. Just like that." And for the next 30 minutes, I was not inclined to change a thing. The boy sucked. I smoked and drank. The pleasure was intense yet sustainable. I could have gone for hours, but he was clearly beginning to tire, so I said, "Ok, son, let's pick up the pace a little. Faster, but not much." And he did as ordered. The change in tempo again heightened the pleasure, which I thought wasn't possible, but still wasn't enough. After a few minutes, I started fucking his face instead of letting him simply suck. He became a receptacle of pleasure. His teeth scraped against my mighty cock as I viciously raped his beautiful orifice. I was breathing and sweating heavily, and I could tell that an immense load was building up inside me. Although I now knew that I could control my orgasm and have it at any time I chose, it didn't mean I wanted to defer it indefinitely. Far from it - I wanted to release my seed into this boy and take ownership of him for good. That is exactly how the thought entered my mind, and it seemed very strange: taking ownership, with absolute certainty, forever. This certainty that, by feeding the boy cum, I would irreversibly own him did not make sense to the new-me. Old-me was, of course, quite comfortable with it. Then the idea of owning the boy forever scared me, because of the responsibility it would entail. But old-me knew that the boy would rather live owned by me than not, even if it meant receiving my seed just this one time. As I mulled these thoughts and ferociously ravaged his mouth, the image in the mirror drew my attention. I saw me, the unassailably impassioned, insanely masculine leather musclegod, cigar aflame, smoke pouring from his bearded mouth, lustfully using his property for its intended purpose. His powerful thrusts were sure and intentional, and the look of intense bliss on his handsomely mature face as he looked out of the mirror and back at me showed that he was being served as he was accustomed, in the manner that was due a god of his magnificence. In contrast, the boy was harshly used, but hardly a mere accessory. Submitting to the will of his master, unable to smile due to the nature of his service, he nonetheless exuded contentment in his posture and motions as he provided the pleasure he knew his god could justly demand from him. I imagined what it would be like to enter the boy's ass and fuck him, depositing my superior seed directly into his bowels. Cigar clenched between my teeth, his ass exposed as he bent over my chair, offering up his warm, wet hole to his god, who had every right to take and enjoy it. The cock enlarged to its full extent, plunging beyond his tight sphincter and into depths of the fleshy cavity beyond. The drive to pound him, fuck him, use him, teach him, and even love him as one would a devoted and faithful pet. The moment of release, him yelling beneath me as he reached his own puny orgasm, followed by my own roar of satisfaction at breeding him. And I saw, too, a vision of how his cells would begin to change, the process that would rewrite his DNA with my own, to better serve his god and master. I fully understood who and what I was, and what the boy was, and how our relationship was good and right. This image was so hot, so perfect, so exactly what I wanted that I made the decision to cum at that moment - the fucking would eventually follow, but for now I wanted to seal the boy's fate as my property. I wanted other boys. I wanted as many as I could get. I wanted to own them and use them and teach them to do the same within the limits of what they were capable. "CALL IT OUT, BOY!" I suddenly yelled. "CALL OUT MY CUM, SON!" The boy began to moan and wail while my cock continued to pound his mouth. The added vibrations put me over the edge, now that I had allowed it. With a growing rumble that became a sudden roar, I went rigid with my hand holding the boy's head down on my cock, and the cigar lodged firmly between my teeth. And then I came. I had never come like this. The spasms seemed endless. My roar was sustained and filled with animal lust, and the satisfaction of that lust. The boy at first tried to disengage from my cock, but my hand gave him no options. Then, as my semen pumped directly down his throat, he realized he must swallow or drown in it, so he swallowed. Cum was spitting from his nose as he struggled to keep up with the flow. Finally, the stream waned and I sank back into the chair breathing heavily, to recover from the sudden release of so much energy. I still held him down on the cock and he was breathing heavily through his nose now, with thick white globs of cum still spitting from his nostrils and dangling from the corners of his mouth. I released his head, but he didn't try to disengage. Instead, he resumed sucking my still hard cock, moaning softly to himself, and working to recover as much cum as he could. It was obvious he relished the taste and wanted more. I now knew how it would affect him, and why he would relish it and want more. The transformation would take many months, and it would become more profound the more I fed or fucked him. His chest would deepen. His beard, thicken. Voice, deepen. Height, increase. His mouth and ass would become more flexible and better adapted to service my cock at full size. Parts of me would be reborn in him, my son. After recovering from the explosion of cum and energy, the boy instinctively went to the first position I had taught him - face to the floor kneeling between my boots - and waited. "Well done, son," I said, tousling his hair while blowing more cigar smoke over and around him, enveloping him like a tangible cloak. "I am yours, SIR. I belong to You. Please use me!" And I acknowledged him. "Yes, you're mine, son. And, yes, I will use you, and teach you to be more suitable for my service." I handed him a small towel from beneath the table at my side. "Wipe down, dress up, and go home. We'll stay in touch. Dismissed." I went back to smoking and enjoying my bourbon as if he no longer were in the room. He quietly dressed as instructed and left. ***** That was the first of many similar encounters that saw me quickly grow into and reclaim the abilities I had acquired in recent lives. I also learned that, with every ejaculation, I recharged to be even more powerful, more strong, more muscular, more in-tune with myself and my boys than I had been before. The changes were very subtle and only noticeable over many months and years, but over time, I was transformed further into the fully matured musclegod I am today. But physical size and masculine features aren't the full extent of what I have become. Stamina has increased. My endurance seems endless. Although I have the face of a brutally handsome older man, my body doesn't seem to age. Disease and sickness are distant memories. And I've learned to love. It's new this time around, I think. Until now, my lives focused on achieving superiority and learning to wield it without question. Now I am experiencing the new dimension of caring for my boys, cultivating them, raising them up from the status of mere men. Certainly, the physical transformation brought about by the peculiar characteristics of my ejaculate is unusual, even miraculous. But "training" is more than just restructuring genes, teaching protocol, and drilling skills pertaining to sexual and domestic service. It is much more about touching the boy's soul, evoking a deep and devoted love response, putting me in the center of his life, and him being thankful for any involvement I may have in his, even if only a one-time encounter. In this life, I find that I don't like the idea of forcing someone to love me - that seems inhumane. And though I may be superior, the compassion that has evolved inside me would never coerce a boy to love me, although none I have ever engaged has failed to do so. The truth is that any man I claim comes to me willingly and happily. Once he experiences me, sees my superiority first hand, and I breed him, he's mine. His only desire is to satisfy my desires, make me proud perhaps as a leather daddy himself, or just see me glance down at him as he serves me and say "Well done, son!"

What is it about an older guy with muscles? Why is it that seeing some beefed up grampa-looking guy can make one of my hands immediately hone in on my right nipple and the other hand quickly zoom in to squeeze the tip of my hardening cock. Tweaking the nub and the head at the same time can make me gurgle like a little baby and make the vision I’m beholding seem even more powerful. It can also make my eyes roll into the back of my head if the daddy is worth staring at for a long time, instead of just a few furtive glances. I can’t explain it and I really don’t care to figure out what it means psychologically – I just know that seeing some silver-haired guy with crows feet around his eyes looking all buff and bulging out of a tight shirt can make me want to bend over and grab my ankles faster than a dress comes off a certain type of girl on prom night. It’s as natural a response as my leg kicking out when the doctor hits my knee with his little hammer. I just can’t help myself – no matter how hard I try. A senior muscleman is the closest thing to heaven I’ve ever experienced. And that’s one of the main reasons I took a summer job at Home Depot. It’s seemed to be the mecca for all things muscled and gray. Thank goodness I had to wear an apron – since I constantly needed help hiding the college-boy bulge I seemed to sprout continuously. The employee bathroom toilet swallowed up more of my semen in one summer than my bedroom sheets had since my first and subsequent wet dreams. It was like the gay boy’s Disneyland – since it was certainly the happiest place on earth for me. Even on the slowest days I was guaranteed a few gratuitous shots of elderly workmen who seemed to spend as much time in the gym as they did at worksites lifting things in the sun. I was beginning to doubt going back to college in the fall could get any better than five work days a week at the Depot. There was nothing – and I mean nothing – that could have gotten me prepared for what happened my fifth week on the job. Since I was very outgoing and had a pretty good head on my shoulders I had been groomed quickly by my manager as someone that was trustworthy and had potential. Mr. Simmons met me at the time clock that morning and asked me to train a new employee. My own orientation had not been that long ago and I remembered enough of what had happened then that I didn’t think twice about the offer. I was to meet some guy named Liam MacDonald at the front doors and tour him around the store. He was then supposed to ‘shadow’ me for the day. I saw my trainee from about twenty yards away when I stepped out from one of the aisles and my cock spurt out a few drips of pre-cum without even being hard. The man standing in the big open doorway at the front of the store was my version of a wet dream come true. Clearly in his mid-sixties, Liam was as thick as a KitchenAid fridge and if he hadn’t been dressed in skin-hugging clothes the apron would have looked like a smallish loincloth on his big frame. The guy had dark horn-rimmed glasses that highlighted his glimmering slicked-back silver hair in a way that made him look both devastatingly handsome and a little ‘nerdy-cute’ at the same time. We were about the same height – five ten – but that’s where the body comparisons stopped. I thought myself in pretty good shape for a healthy twenty-two year old, but compared to Liam I looked like a stick-figure guy on the cover of a children’s book about wimps. The cuffs of his short-sleeved polo shirt cut into his biceps in that ‘one flex can rip the thing to shreds’ kind of way. I was pretty sure he had ringed indentions in his bulging guns at the end of the day since his sleeves were so tight – but I wasn’t complaining. It was the kind of powerful look that made my nipples tingle with excitement. The dude’s quads stuck so far out that his apron – the same sized apron that wrapped around most of my body – couldn’t come close to covering the curved bulges sticking out on either side. And Liam’s lats ballooned out so far that I knew it was impossible for the dude to rest his forearms against his hips unless he pressed them in with all his might. His arms kind of stayed perpetually bent as they rested on those tremendous supports underneath. My head became a little cloudy and my legs weakened when I gazed on the guy’s perfectly shaped chest. If you had gazed on just that part of Liam you would have said it was the body of a twenty-six year old heavyweight bodybuilder. I could have worked only my pectoral muscles for the rest of my life and they would have never come close to looking like the shelf this man had attained – or been blessed with, it was hard to tell if it was all from workouts or partly because of genetics. The mounds of muscle underneath his shirt shot out like hard cloth-covered mountains that small children could have used to learn how to ski. I was a sucker for a manly chest and Liam had the kind of bulging ape-teats that made me want to sell my soul to the devil for just an hour of sucking. This wasn’t just a well-built senior citizen; he was every god on Mount Olympus rolled into one. I had trouble walking as I got closer to the man and I was worried I was going to pass out as soon as I was close enough to smell what surely was perfect he-man musk. My voice cracked when I spoke to him – they guy forcing me into a second puberty just because of his immense body. “You must be Liam. I’m Makana.” “Hey Makana. It’s great to meet you.” As soon as his hand engulfed mine I lost control of my legs and they visibly wobbled. I struggled hard to prevent myself from collapsing into a pile of mush and concentrated on shaking Liam’s calloused strong manly paw. I couldn’t help myself and I let my eyes drop immediately to his swelling biceps and suddenly extra saliva started filling my mouth. The man’s arm bulged out larger and the sleeve of his polo cut into his skin even more. I think drops of water fell from my tongue, which was hanging out across my bottom lip. All of this was an uncontrollable reaction and I struggled hard to force my gaze back up to his bluish-gray eyes – highlighted even more by his beautiful elder papa hair. I felt like I was having some kind of stroke or something – my mind simply stopped working and I didn’t know how to move any part of my body. If Liam caught on to any of this he didn’t make it obvious. He squeezed my hand strongly and then released – but not before, I had the feeling, he was sure I had fully recovered. The man also continued the conversation for me – a kind gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. “You must have some Hawaiian in you.” “I do. Um . . . most people don’t ever guess that.” “Well, it’s a pretty common name in Hawaii, right? I’ve spent some time there. What island are you from?” “Yeah, lots of people have my name. I’m originally from Molokai.” “A great island. I’ve been there a few times. I even hiked down to Kalaupapa to see where Fr. Damien did his work.” “It’s incredible what that man did. You’re lucky you got to visit there. So . . . um, ready to see the store?” “I sure am. Lead the way, sir.” I couldn’t tell if it was the smile, the incredible dimples, or the strong-as-hell jawline that made me pause briefly after Liam had spoken. I just couldn’t move. The man’s beauty and his warmth demeanor caught me off guard and I had no power to prevent my idiotic reaction. Clearly, the guy was as nice as he was handsome and that made me fall for him even harder than before. I think that Liam wanted to make sure I didn’t embarrass myself so he started walking toward aisle one when he noticed my feet couldn’t work. A soft whimper escaped my mouth and I had to lean against a pile of lumber when I got a glimpse of the man’s humongous back. I got the feeling that if the senior muscle dude had suddenly gone into reverse I would have heard a loud beeping noise to signify something as huge as a semi was backing up. The expanse of his shoulders was incredible and I got the feeling that he was as wide as I was tall. His traps, delts, and lats bulged so much that it looked like there was a mountain range under his shirt. The man blocked my view of half the store. The dude’s incredibly thin waist emphasized the hugeness above even more. I could tell he certainly had trouble finding pants that could fit over his monstrous legs and wouldn’t swallow his tiny midsection. I suddenly realized I was mumbling to myself – simply uttering gibberish because I was so overwhelmed by the new employee’s unbelievable body. And to top it all off and rock all my desires, the guy was clearly in his sixties. I somehow gathered my strength and my wits before Liam realized I wasn’t behind him. I then sort of half stumbled and half walked to catch up with him since my legs were still not functioning well. He turned to look at me when I fell into step beside him. “Um . . . what brings you to work at Home Depot, Liam?” “The truth?” “Yeah . . . I guess.” “Well I retired two years ago at sixty-five and about three months back I realized I was spending about sixty percent of my awake hours at the gym. While that was good for my physical health, it wasn’t too good for me mentally or emotionally. I was also spending a little too much money on new wardrobes every six months. I think I just got bored of being retired and kind of got obsessed about working out. I’m not complaining, Makana, since I’m in the best shape of my entire life at sixty-seven, but I was quickly becoming a gym hermit who had no interaction with other people. The owner of my gym finally set up an intervention for me after I lifted ten hours straight one day, only stopping for meals and to take a leak. It was then I decided to find a job. Since I use to own a construction company that I sold when I retired, I figured this would be a good place for me.” “Well the working out certainly paid off – you look great. I can’t believe you’re sixty-seven!” “Thanks, Makana. I’ve cut back to only two hours, six days a week. It’s still a little obsessive, but I’m actually making time to do other things, as well. As for the age, I certainly don’t feel it – but I’ll be sixty-eight next month. It’s weird to be that old and easily lifting more weight that most twenty year olds in the gym. I’ve always been conscious about my health, though, so I guess it paid off.” I wanted to say, “like hell it did!” or something like that, but I knew it would sound a little weird. I didn’t want to show my crazy eagerness to impress the man or have my need to get him to like me make me look overzealous. I simply nodded my head up and down and tried to hide the intense amazement and lust that was consuming my body. If I had painted a picture of my supreme dream-man I could not have come close to matching what walked beside me. It was like Liam had been magically created to prove to me what a real muscle senior daddy could actually look like. All of my fantasies up to this point in life now seemed pathetic and limited. Liam was definitely making me re-shape images that had helped me to beat off for years. I knew I would probably never think of any other man to reach ejaculation and I was desperately trying to not let that affect how I was acting, but it was incredibly difficult. There was also a tip-like bulge causing my apron to poke out in a very inappropriate way and was even causing me some pain while walking. If the big muscle gramps noticed my raging hard-on he didn’t acknowledge it in any way. I got the feeling; again, that Liam was too much of a gentleman to ever do anything that would cause me embarrassment. “Well, here we are at the Garden Department. Let me show you around.” For the next three hours I was in muscleman bliss. I was able to stay focused on the task at hand and I shared everything I knew about the Depot with Liam. Since the guy had owned a construction business I didn’t need to spend any time explaining many of the departments. As a matter of fact, he shared a few interesting tidbits with me and I ended up being the one that learned the most during our tour. I warmed up to the senior muscleman even more than earlier as we walked around the store. Liam had a certain calmness about him – something that seemed to only come with very large and confident men – that somehow even soothed my raging lust for most of our time together. I couldn’t help myself, though, and stole long glances at the man’s huge muscles every chance I got – thinking I was being careful enough to not get caught. Part of me, however, hoped Liam would notice and that it would flatter him tremendously. If the man did notice, he did not let on at all. We ended up taking our lunch break together and I was surprised to see we had the exact Sur La Table lunch carrier – something that brought me great joy. When Liam pulled out what was clearly a nice meal of leftovers I saw another way to win his friendship. “Someone else likes to cook, I see.” “Yeah, I find it soothing and healthier.” “What did you bring today?” “Just some jambalaya I made on Sunday. And what did you bring?” “Some leftover pan-seared salmon I made for my parents last night.” “Sounds good. It looks good, too. Hey, Makana, thanks a lot for the orientation today. I think it’s really going to help me. I think I’ll like working here.” “I hope so, Liam, and it was my pleasure to show you the place. Do you . . . um . . . mind if I ask you a personal question.” “Uh oh, sounds serious. Shoot away.” “What’s it like . . . to . . . be . . . um . . . so big?” “That’s personal? I think you let me off easy. Wow, I’ve been big for so long I kind of take it for granted now. I don’t know . . . I guess it’s kind of cool. I’ve worked hard to build up my body so it’s neat that I automatically get respect most of the time. I’m sure I intimidate people sometimes, but I don’t mean to. I think people just assume I’m some sort of meathead jerk or something – but I’m not. I can’t lie to you, Makana, sometimes it’s fun to see people’s reaction to my body. Most of the time it falls into one of three categories – people that get a little scared, people that immediately feel threatened, or sometimes people get excited about my size and they ask to feel part of my body. I’ve kind of learned how to deal with each group differently – to lessen the tension, I guess. It’s fun to see people gawk and get surprised when they touch my arm or chest, though. Being this huge can also cause problems, too – like on small airplanes, in tiny bathroom stalls, in cramped theatre seats, or in compact cars. It can be a burden, but most of the time it’s fine. I guess I really don’t think about it at all. Now, can I ask you a personal question?” “Sure, It’s only fair, I guess.” “Would you go on a date with me?” “What?” “I’m sorry, Makana, I asked Sybil, the cashier, if you were gay and she said you were. I just wondered if you’d care to go out with me?” “No, I mean . . . it’s just . . . “ “Am I too old for you? I mean I’d understand. I could be your grandfather, for goodness sakes.” “No, Liam, no . . . I’d love to go out with you. I’m just caught off guard by the invitation . . . by the fact that you’d like to go out with me.” “What? You’re cute as hell, Makana. That dark Hawaiian complexion, those beautiful black eyes, and that tight college-boy body – what’s not to like?” “Um . . . thanks, but you’re just . . . well, you’re huge, Liam!” “I’m hoping you’re one of the people in the ‘I’d like to feel parts of that huge body’ I was describing earlier and not one of the ones that’s threatened or scared.” “I think I’m probably at the top of the list when it comes to being someone that gets into big men, Liam. I also have a special thing for older guys.” “It sounds like we’re a match made in heaven, Makana. Would you be available for dinner on Friday night.” “If I wasn’t free – trust me – I’d cancel whatever was scheduled. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you the entire tour.” “I had the same problem, Makana. Then it’s a date. I’m not sure I’ll be able to last until Friday. It’s a good thing they have me scheduled on the other side of the store this week.” “There’s always lunch, though, Liam. We can put each other through torture for at least an hour every day.” “It sounds like a plan.” Part Two I think I stayed perpetually hard for the next four days. I thought about Liam constantly – at work, at home, even in my dreams – and it was worse because we made sure we got the same lunch break each day. We were inseparable during that brief time in the outdoor eating area. We continued to impress each other with our culinary skills and it was clear we went all out to try and bring something the other person would love. My lasagna made Liam smile from happy taste buds and his flourless chocolate cake was to die for. During those four days my lust for his huge older muscled body didn’t dampen at all. I grew to like his sense of humor, his generosity, and his intelligence – but it was the perfect bulges that made every stitch of his clothing balloon out and ooze with sex that continued to make me weak at the knees. I didn’t let on completely how infatuated I was with his body, but I think Liam was starting to get a pretty good idea. I asked a million and one questions about his exercise routine, how much he weighed (almost swooning when he said three ninety-seven), the amount of weight he could bench, and so much more. It would have probably been pretty clear to even a deaf and dumb guy that I was way into Liam’s body. I shared a lot with him, as well, and loved how focused he’d get when I’d share my dreams and aspirations. I’m pretty sure he understood that I would have thrown my body over the picnic table in a split second if he asked – offering my ass or cock to him without any problem. I continued to jerk off thinking about Liam’s huge arms, his monstrous chest, or his massive quads any chance I got – whether at the store or at home. Finally, Friday rolled around and we were both clocking out. I was barely able to contain my excitement. I was also feeling pretty bold. “I was thinking I could just leave my car here, Liam, so we can ride together.” “I’ve been thinking the same thing. We can swing by and get it tomorrow.” I know my face immediately turned bright red – not from embarrassment, but from the rush of delight that flew through my body when I heard his words. It was perfectly clear what Liam’s intention was – and he knew exactly how it would affect me. I stood there dumbfounded for a few seconds, mainly because I knew any type of movement might cause my suddenly rock-hard cock to start ejaculating uncontrollably. How was I ever going to make it through dinner? My need for this older man had grown to feverish heights. I literally ached for the man. It also felt like I might pass out from excitement. I gained some confidence and responded, but I could barely muster up more than a whisper. “Or even on Sunday.” “Or even on Sunday, Makana. What a great idea.” Liam’s smile made my legs give out. I fumbled back into the rack attached to the wall that held the timecards. Liam jumped into action and reached out to grab my shoulder before I slid to the floor. As soon as his big hand touched me – the first time we had made bodily contact since our handshake on the first day – I closed my eyes and gasped softly. My reaction made Liam immediately nervous. “Did I hurt you?” “No . . . the complete opposite. I’m fine. Liam. I just need a second to recover from being a little over-stimulated.” This made the big elder man laugh out loud. He still held on to my shoulder - making me feel like it was something small and delicate because of his strong huge calloused hand. I sensed his power – even just through his fingers – and it turned me on more than anything I could ever remember. I wanted to turn my head and bend down to kiss his thick manly paw, but I forced myself not to do what came so naturally. I knew there’d be lots of time for kissing later on. I forced my legs to straighten out and I regained my composure. Liam released my shoulder and my body immediately missed the contact with the huge man, mainly because his power somehow made me feel secure and comfortable. I also suddenly felt cold – the heat from Liam’s huge body certainly warmed my small frame up quickly, in more ways than one. “I like it when you touch me.” “Do you, now, Makana. That’s good to know. I think there might be a lot of touching later on this evening. Maybe a little carrying, too.” “Oh shit, no! Calm down, calm down, calm down. No, no, no! I will not lose it!” “Makana, what’s the matter?” “Shhhhh, Liam. Don’t speak for a few seconds. Please.” The idea of Liam holding my body in is huge muscle arms was too much for my weakened body to handle. I had quickly moved to the edge of release and I knew if the man said anything more to me I was going to pump out a big wad of cum in my drawers. I just needed the big elder god to be quiet for a few seconds. I shut my eyes and leaned against the rack again. I focused my thoughts on anything besides the massive monster standing in front of me. Liam quickly figured out what was happening and stood there – totally silent and completely still. It took almost a full minute for my body to get beyond it’s teetering on the brink of orgasm. I could feel my balls tightening and the pressure building in my cock. I breathed in and out pretty hard – like a woman in labor – and it helped me to not lose control. I was finally able to open my eyes and look upon the senior muscled angel standing before me. The big guy was smiling and patiently waiting for me to return from the edge. “It looks like we successfully avoided an accident.” “I think we also avoided me passing out! Liam, you got to be careful with what you say or what you do around me. You put me in a delicate situation just by being near me. I could easily spill every drop of semen within my body because of you doing something like carrying me. Just the thought of it makes me zoom close to the point of no return.” “Okay, then, Makana. That’s good to know. I think I’ll be working hard to give you some release later on. We could play a game like ‘let’s see how long it takes Makana to explode’ or something like that. But I can wait until we’re in a more private place, I promise, sir.” “That would be great, Liam.” “Ready for dinner?” “And for everything else!” My words brought a bigger smile to Liam’s face and I knew immediately that he was ready for what would come after dinner, as well. I was amazed as we entered the restaurant about fifteen minutes later how everyone stared at the big man. I don’t know why it surprised me, since I found myself staring uncontrollably at him all the time, too. I guess it had something to do with the fact that he was with me – something I still didn’t fully understand. After the meal had been ordered and his wine had been poured, I began to learn a little more about the beautiful muscleman. Liam was clearly in a mood to share. “Um . . . Makana . . . I have a confession to make. It’s kind of embarrassing and I’ll understand if it . . . well, if it turns you off.” “This sounds interesting. Confess away, big man.” “Well . . . I . . . uh . . . I get really jacked . . . from, um . . . being . . . well, you know . . . worshipped. It’s even how I . . . um . . . jack-off most of the time . . . imagining some guy . . . you know . . . worshipping me.” I sat there stunned as I saw Liam’s face turn bright red. Here was this giant getting really embarrassed as he confessed he loved being deified by some guy and all I wanted to do was adulate him twenty-four hours a day. I don’t think he understood the depth of my devotion to muscled older men. I was quite sure he actually thought his confession might make me run away in disgust. His discomfort in sharing his secret was so endearing that it almost made me shed a tear. My mind drifted briefly to the idea of the ‘perfect storm’ – when specific conditions were just right for a weather system to produce something so powerful that it could do intense damage. That’s how this moment felt. The lustful conditions were so perfect that I had a feeling the two of us would still be awake when the sun came up – and we’d still have blue balls and hard cocks just aching for the umpteenth release. If this man liked being worshipped then he had just hit the highest jackpot ever by revealing that little tidbit to me. When it came to worshipping muscle – especially older muscle – there could not have been a more devoted disciple. “In the past, Liam, some of the idols I have chosen to adulate have not been able to stay with it for the long haul. They have ended up being weak and not really worthy of my unending adoration. The older musclemen I’ve dated have actually outlasted the younger lads, but no one has proven a worthy longstanding temple. Are you sure you’re up for the task?” I could sense that my carefully chosen words were causing something almost supernatural to be released in Liam. His body seemed to suddenly pulse with more intensity and I quickly realized it was because every muscle was being powerfully tensed. I saw a look of ‘challenge accepted’ creep across his face and I actually got nervous that I had truly met my match. I had a strong suspicion that this big man’s desire for adoration might just be insanely more severe than my need to worship, even though I had never thought that possible. I was suddenly thankful that we were in a public place because I believed the huge older muscle mountain would have grabbed me right then and there and slammed my face into all parts of his hardened body if he could have. It was pretty clear that I had unleashed a volcano of untapped pleasures within Liam just by making it obvious that his confession only thrilled me even more than I already was – something I had thought impossible. “I always reward faithful subjects handsomely, Makana.” “You already have, Liam.” This comment made the man pause briefly – so caught off guard was he by my confession of presently being very happy. We both knew there was a lot more to come from this hurricane of passion building between us, but Liam was unprepared to hear that I was already deeply satisfied. I saw a look of recognition flash through his eyes, as if he was realizing for the first time that he was being blessed with the proverbial ‘soul mate’ some gurus always spoke about. This intense bond that had been growing between us for the last week was being solidified in a special way and each of us was beginning to understand that nothing would be able to break it apart. I suddenly didn’t care about college. I didn’t care about pleasing my family. I didn’t care about having any future that didn’t involve the giant man sitting in front of me. Many people would have called this feeling ‘love’ – and that was certainly part of it – but it was so much more than just a ‘heart thing.’ Liam and I were moving into territory I was pretty sure neither of us had ever charted before. We were connecting on a spiritual level, an emotional level, and intellectual level, a sexual level, and a deeply demanding level. It was clear we both understood that continuing to fan into flame this connection that was roaring between us would seal us together in a way that was both frightening and completely exciting at the same time. Liam evidently felt it, too. “Now’s the time to get off this wild ride, Makana. If you’re not willing to commit to whatever this is that is about to explode between us, please tell me now. I’ve been hurt in the past and that was by people that didn’t create a fourth of the intense desire you have released in me. If you backed out now it would just be my heart that would be broken, but if we continue and then you decided it wasn’t right I believe my very soul would be extinguished.” “It doesn’t make sense we both could feel this way so quickly, Liam. And for the record, my heart, soul, and spirit already rest in your powerful hands.” “And I’ll protect them with my life, sir, I promise. You know, of course, that it is taking every ounce of my strength not to grab this table, toss it across the room grab you in my arms, and smother you with all my muscles.” “Well, we have ordered and it would be wasteful not eat the meal. Besides, I kind of like knowing I’m causing you to almost lose control. It’s kind of like playing with dynamite. Everyone around us has no idea the potential danger they are in – the possibility of being shocked by some huge muscleman going on a lustful rampage.” “You are an evil, evil man.” “I need to have some weapon that equals what your body does to me – and I think the only thing I’ve got are my teasing words that seem to work you into an intense sexual frenzy.” “You have no idea what kind of ticking bomb you are playing with, Makana.” “That’s what makes it fun, big man, that’s what makes it fun. I’ll quit teasing as soon as you deflate your gorgeous, cock-hardening muscles – it’s the only way we’d be even.” “I’m afraid I can’t do that. You make me want to be even bigger – now that I know my body turns you on so much.” “Exactly! That’s why I choose to tease you with my words, as well. Take a nice cool drink of water, Liam; here comes the first question to push you even closer to the orgasmic cliff. Later on, what part of your body should I worship first?” The big man quickly closed his eyes – but reopened them because visions of what I might be doing came quicker when lids were down. He was visibly shaken by my question – mainly because his mind immediately went to whatever lustful pleasure he liked most. That was the exact reaction I desired. I also hoped he would share the first thing that came to his mind – so I’d know what his favorite form of adoration was. I watched closely as the big man willed his body to settle down and he actually broke into a smile – one that made it clear he was regrouping for this sexual battle that was in full force between us. I got a slight inkling of the power within the older man – he was clearly not a foe to be taken lightly. I needed to prepare myself for the battle I had started – realizing that Liam had an arsenal of weapons – his muscles – that clearly outnumbered anything I had. I was going to have to use my intellect and my ability to subvert his defenses by revealing my lust for his body slowly just so I could come close to equaling his power. I knew deep in my heart that he could win the battle easily by merely flexing an arm or undoing a few buttons of his shirt – and it was clear he knew the same thing – but Liam wanted to make the fun last as long as I did. He also wanted to build the looming explosion below his waist until its release would be mind-boggling and would cement our union in a way neither of us completely understood. “Funny you should ask that, Makana. Before I get down to being worshipped I usually like to pump up my body big – really big – just to make it worthwhile for my worshiper. It seems to add a little fun to the pre-show if I actually use the obliging fellow as my barbell for warming up.” The big tease knew exactly how his words would affect me. I had clearly underestimated his talents for taunting. I needed a few seconds to kick visions of his big arms pushing my body into the air above his head - or even while he lay on the floor - out of my mind. It was a hell of a lot harder than I thought it would be. I forced myself to look at Liam’s face, just so I wouldn’t see his big arms through his tight shirt and long to be easily lifted by them. I teetered on the edge of a dark chasm, almost giving into my urge to spew Liam-muscle induced cum into my briefs – that’s how turned on I got from being easily tossed around by a big muscle daddy. That’s also how much I longed for the man across the table to show me how powerful he was by pressing me up and down for hundreds of repetitions. For a few seconds I didn’t care about the people around us – I thought about letting my moans of pleasure as my cock pumped out heavy loads of juice fill the restaurant and bring every gaze in the place to our table. I knew that after one good look at Liam no one would have blamed me for my reaction. I, however, like Liam wanted to make the fun last a lot longer. I retreated from the edge and smiled at my adversary. “Touché, sir. I can see I have met a worthy opponent. I will have to re-double my efforts.” “When something is very important to me, Makana, I can unleash stamina beyond your wildest dreams.” “That’s what I’m hoping, Liam.” Luckily, our food came at that moment. I was on lust overload for the larger-than-life older man, so it was good to have a break. I sensed that Liam was just as thankful for the time out. We spent most of the meal talking about ‘first date’ kinds of things – favorite movies, favorite vacation spots, and similar mundane things. We both wanted the conversation to return to other more excitable topics, but we also realized the danger that came with such a move. As I took my last sip of my second cup of post-dinner coffee – ordered because I anticipated being up for a long time – I purposefully moved the conversation back to stimulation ground. Liam had insisted on paying for the meal, citing his age as reason he should be paying. He knew that any reference to him being much older turned me on. He was busy figuring out the tip, with some handsome reading glasses pulled out of a pocket, when I returned to previous conversations. “I think I put on a few pounds from that great meal. Maybe I’ll give you a little more resistance when you’re doing your pre-worship exercises.” I saw a smile creep across the bottom of his face – even with him looking down at the table. He continued to figure out his math, but was not about to let me get the upper hand in this conversation. He chose his words carefully, knowing full well the kind of impact they would have on me. It was like he had lobbed a sexual hand grenade onto my side of the table. “I’m easily benching three eighty five these days, Makana, I don’t think you’ll give me much resistance at all. I just lift guys like you for show.” I was extremely thankful I had swallowed my coffee. I know I would have spit it out all over the table if it had still been in my mouth. Liam didn’t look up – he didn’t need to. He could sense my reaction fully and it turned him on very much. I started calculating in my head and realized he was basically benching what equaled to two and a half of my body’s weight put together. I instantly wondered if that meant he might be able to lift my entire body with just one arm – something that made me shiver in delight. I couldn’t speak for a few seconds – something I had the feeling was going to happen a lot from now on. Liam looked up at me and his face was full of pride. The guy was more than double my age and he was lifting more weight than I would probably ever be able to push into the air – even with a crane. He was also more than twice the size of me. I could see in Liam’s eyes that he knew he was now way out in the lead in our little game of turning each other on. I also knew, though, that the more excited I got - it thrilled him more, as well. It was like a chemical reaction that was ever true or an equation’s answer that never changed. If my pleasure increased his pleasure increased and vice versa. I wanted to say something but I couldn’t think of anything that would top what he had just shared. He was not, however, going to let that be the end of this present struggle. “I’ve lifted guys double your size over my head for a good fifty reps, Makana. I think you’ll have to add a lot of pounds to give me some resistance. Really good form on shoulder presses seems to make a lot of guys happy. It’s always important to me that we’re someplace where the guy can watch my arms and shoulders bulging massive as I crank out my sets. It’s just an added bonus for the fellow as his body methodically travels up and down.” “Now who’s being evil, Liam?” “I believe you started it, young man.” We stared at each other for a few seconds of silence. I was amazed that we had gotten back to this place of heightened sexual tension so quickly. It was going to be difficult for both of us to leave the restaurant without having our crotches reveal the level of our arousal. I was so hard that I didn’t think I’d be calming down for days. I hoped Liam was in the same predicament. “Shall we move on to the next part of the evening, Makana? Or should I say the next part of the weekend?” “I’m more than ready, Liam.” He stood up first and my eyes went straight to the area I had just been contemplating. My jaw dropped when I beheld what looked like the outline of a thermos pressing against his pants. I knew the guy was big, but I had not been prepared for his cock to match the rest of his massiveness. I forced myself to stand up, too, noticed the approving smile I received after Liam glanced at my crotch, and then led the way out of the restaurant after he held out his huge arm in the gesture of a gentleman. I could feel that he was right behind me and I knew he was checking out my backside like a typical construction worker gawking at someone walking by. And then, as if to confirm what I was thinking, he spoke. He did nothing to hide his voice and after noticing the glances from other patrons and staff I knew I wouldn’t be returning to that restaurant ever. “What a nice tight ass, young man.” I felt my face flush red – not from embarrassment, but from the compliment. I had hoped he’d like what I had to offer on my backside – it was one of my best attributes. His approval meant the world to me. I found myself smiling and I got a wink from the hostess – a sign that said she realized how lucky I was to have such a gorgeous man offering me such praise. I smiled even more broadly and stepped out into the cold air. Suddenly, my pants were riding up my ass painfully and my feet were not touching the ground. My body fell forward a little, but a big hand grabbed my shoulder. “I thought I’d give you a glimpse of what’s to come, Makana. I also thought I’d help you to my truck.” It dawned on me that the big man was carrying me with one hand. He had grabbed my belt and the back of my slacks with his right hand, steadied me with his left, and was now hoisting me into the air with no problem. We were still moving forward but my feet just dangled in the air. There was little I could do – Liam was basically manhandling me as if I were a small child. Compared to him, my body was like that of a small child. I was set back down on the ground when we were by the passenger door of his truck. I reached down and pulled the back of my pants out of my ass crack. A big hand immediately slid into place over my butt as soon as I had my pants back to normal. Liam pressed his paw into my muscled cheeks, squeezed hard a couple of times, and then made an approving sound that was halfway between a moan and a big animal purring. “Damn, that feels good, Makana. I’ve been wanting to feel your ass all week long.” I turned my body around and then pressed my back against the door of his truck. I reached out and placed my palms on his massive chest. I made a similar sound to the one he had made just seconds ago. My hands started kneading his hard muscle immediately. I let my thumbs scrape across his jutting nipples and loved how it made Liam close his eyes and coo a little. I looked into his face and smiled broadly. “And I’ve wanted to feel these all week long, Liam. Tense them hard for me, big man.” I’m not sure if it was the way I told him to do it, his eagerness to impress me, or the fact that my hands were working double time on his huge chest, but Liam tightened his pec muscles immediately and I almost creamed in my pants. I knew the guy’s body would be hard, but I wasn’t prepared for how powerful his muscles could be when flexed. My fingers were clamping down hard on his pec meat and when everything was tensed they were forced to let go. The strength in my hands was nothing when compared to what his chest could put out. I was forced to flatten my palms and merely press up against the mammoth, marble-like wall of muscle before me. Liam was proudly smiling as he realized what he had made me do – grinning mainly because he knew it turned me on so much. I brought my right hand away from the giant pec beneath it, made a fist, and sent it flying into his tensed muscle. When it smacked into his shirt nothing moved – not his pec, not my hand, and certainly not the body of the huge man. I hadn’t thrown a punch hard enough to hurt my fingers – I was much smarter than that – but I did get the full effect of how insanely dense this guy’s upper body truly was. He was thicker than I was wide. If I had closed my eyes and tried to guess what his chest felt like I would have been saying things like the hood of a big rig, two giant wrecking balls smashed together, or a double wide stainless steel freezer. “You didn’t even feel that punch, did you Liam?” “What punch, Makana?” The big man’s face was beaming at me – he was just so happy to find a guy that seemed to be as turned on by his body as he was. I decided I needed to show Liam that I really liked it when he emphasized his hugeness and his strength, too. I pulled both of my fists back and sent them flying into his chest at the same time. There was still no movement from his body and my fingers actually stung a little this time. My feeble attempt caused the older muscleman to smile even more broadly – showing all of his pearly whites. God, it was sexy knowing he wanted me to get turned on by his power and his huge body. It struck me at that moment that I now had a new path to leveling our lustful playing field. “Damn, big guy, those pecs feel like thick plates of steel. My fingers are still in pain from smacking up against something so hard. You must have some armor on underneath there.” Liam’s reaction made it clear that I had hit jackpot. He had told me earlier he loved to be worshipped, but it was only at this moment that I fully understood what it did to the man. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but I think his big muscled legs actually quivered as I talked about his chest. There was also a flicker of worry in his eyes – nervousness clearly caused by the fact that my continued talking about his body in this way could easily bring him to uncontrollable release. I had struck gold. I now knew Liam’s Achilles heel. There was one big problem, though. Talking about his body in this way – especially as my hands groped his muscles – would quickly cause me to erupt, as well. I knew I would have to pace myself. Even though I had found his weakness, it was clear I should not consider myself the victor. Liam still had some tricks up his sleeve and I needed to remember that he was clearly much larger and definitely more powerful than me. I knew that meant he probably had a lot more stamina, too – as he had pointed out earlier. As if to prove that my thoughts were correct, the big man reached up and undid the top three buttons of his shirt. He wanted to make it clear to me that there were no plates of metal under the material – only the steel-like muscle of his gorgeous chest. He also wanted to allow me my first glimpse of the deep valley-like crevice between his two pecs and the dusting of mouth-watering salt and pepper hair covering those mountainous muscles. I realized immediately that the guy was nowhere near down for the count. He was fully aware that showing me just part of his enormous chest – really just a fourth of the entire hugeness – was enough to send me closer to the edge than anything I might say or do to him. He was exactly right. I instantly did what any muscle daddy loving boy would have done as soon as he saw the deep cavity between his mounds of hard beef – I brought my head forward and slammed my face into his inviting half-exposed muscle cave. My world stopped at that moment – everything went on pause. I didn’t care about the people walking by as they left the restaurant, staring at us in disbelief or envy. I didn’t care about the cars driving by, slowing down to get a good look. I didn’t even care if Liam wanted this kind of public display or not. I only wanted my face to be buried between two walls of solid hard muscle and my tongue to lap up any manly tastes his body produced. I’m sure I sounded like a starving wolf that is thrown a raw steak. I kissed and slurped up every inch of that tight space between his colossal pecs. It was pretty clear I didn’t need to worry about Liam not wanting this kind of public display because he immediately put one of his big hands behind my head and pulled it into his body even more. He also continued to flex his big chest just to make it squeeze my face tighter than before. I turned into a wild man on a mission. I reached down and blindly found the belt loops on either side of his pants. I then pulled his big body up against mine, while never moving my face from its perfectly warm and tight position. When my hard cock smacked up against his giant, equally hard log we both moaned like we had been waiting for that specific connection all of our lives. My legs went numb from the excitement and I was damn happy that the pressure from the big man’s body kept me upright and in place. I actually think the intense power from just his pecs squeezing my face could have kept me standing with no problem. If I was now a wild man, then that same state of being was intensified in Liam because of his enormous size. The man was like a wild beast finally let loose from a cage. He pressed his big body into mine – smashing me up against the truck. I could feel the vehicle rocking back and forth slightly as the big man rubbed his crotch up and down into mine. His hands were beyond my waist and kneading my ass – even though they were trapped between my body and the truck door. Liam brought his face down beside my right temple – intent on making this as much about words as it was his body. “Oh yeah, Makana, feel my big pecs smashing your face. Don’t you just love that crushing power smothering you when I tense those big puppies? Doesn’t that feel incredible, boy?” I could only moan my answer – but the sound made it clear I was in muscle heaven. I had absolutely no idea what thrilled me more – feeling his pecs squeezing the hell out of my face or listening to Liam talk about his own body that way. I was entering into new muscle daddy territory – I had never dated an older guy that loved to be worshipped or that loved to talk about himself as much as this elder god. The big man’s words echoed in my ears and I realized hearing Liam remark about his own huge body made all the muscles even more real for me. It was like he was guiding me to whatever part of his body he wanted me to adore next. It was also like our mutual admiration for his gigantic muscles – and him talking about it – could double the pleasure both of us felt. I intensified the work my tongue was doing on the valley between his pecs and the delicious taste of salt and whatever it was that made a real man a man was so overwhelming that I was starting to feel light headed. Of course, it could have been the fact that Liam was smashing the crap out of my face and I found it hard to inhale deeply. Meanwhile, the older muscle man just couldn’t stop talking – clearly he understood what kind of reaction it caused in me. “Yeah, feel how my big body squashes you against this truck, Makana. You starting to feel like a flattened pancake? You love how my hard muscles compress your small frame completely, don’t you? You love how I can easily pin you against the truck and we both know you couldn’t go anywhere even if you wanted to. That make you feel good, sport?” Again, my moans of intense joy were the only answer Liam needed – he was getting off on pleasing me so much. I was using my strong glute muscles and the momentum of my grinding crotch to bang my cock into his as hard as I could. In response, Liam would force his pelvis forward and trap my lower body against the truck and then he would grind his hefty piece of meat into me, making my mind go crazy with a need for more. He’d then release the pressure and allow me to start all over. At that point I think our two cocks were the hardest things in the world – that’s how off the charts turned on we both were. I had placed my hands on both of his hard biceps, loving how the huge mounds bulged and hardened as he kneaded my ass cheeks roughly. I tried to squeeze his upper arms but not only could I not get my hands over the enormous mass I also couldn’t dent the things in at all. There was nothing to grab hold of – just as had happened with his chest earlier. I quickly abandoned that task and sent both of my hands into the back of his pants and ran my cold hands across his hard ass and squeezed. This gave Liam a big jolt of adrenaline and he moaned even louder than me. This definitely caused many people in the surrounding area to turn our way. I wasn’t sure if they were just scared – as if a beast had just cried out in the night – or if they just wanted to find out where the loud noise had come from. I let my fingers slide between his hard muscled cheeks and he immediately tensed his glutes – trapping my fingers easily. I heard the big man let out a menacing snicker – as if taunting me to try and escape. The next time he shoved his crotch forward he also squeezed his cheeks even tighter together and I winced joyfully from the pain, even as my face was still buried between his mega pecs. It was pretty clear – by the throbbing from my own cock and his – that we were both pretty close to orgasm. Without any warning, Liam released my ass, loosened his own butt-grip on my fingers, and placed his hands against the truck to push his body from mine. My hands disengaged from his pants and I immediately missed his hard warm body pressed up against me. I looked at his smiling face – clearly showing him in my eyes that I missed his presence. “Aw heck, Makana, we got to get out of here before I rip every piece of clothing off of that tight body of yours and draw more attention than we’ve already attracted. Unless you want to be arrested for being naked in public you better get in that truck before I can’t control myself anymore. Besides, I’ve got some lifting to do and a Makana barbell is just what my trainer ordered. Care to head home?” PART THREE I was already in the truck before Liam finished his question about whether I wanted to head to his house now or not. As soon as he reminded me about how he liked to lift guys before he let them start worshipping him – either in a bench press or a shoulder press – I was ready to be at his place. I did not need to be asked twice. Liam was kind of shocked at how fast I jumped in his truck and he laughed out loud when I shut the door and looked at him through the closed window. I leaned over and opened his door as the big man walked around the front of the truck. He slid his big body into the driver’s seat and then leaned over – our lips met in what can only be described as a fireworks inducing kiss. His lips felt almost as powerful as the rest of him and his tongue easily defeated mine to dominate our lip-lock. I let my right hand move to his crotch and I latched on to his hard cock – amazed at how huge the thing was. I squeezed hard, noting that like his chest and arms my hand could not dent the thing, and this caused Liam to pull his face from mine. “Careful, boy, that gun is cocked and ready to be fired. You don’t want to be responsible for me busting a hole in my pants, do you? Besides, you got to let me drive. I don’t want to have a wreck and not make it to all that’s promised to us at home. Let’s be ‘hands off’ until we get to my place, okay?” “I’m not sure I can last that long, Liam.” “Okay, let me give you something big to hold onto, then.” Liam had already started the car and we were headed down the street, so he bent his arm closest to me and leaned my way a little. He held his humongous biceps out for me to grab. I reached my left arm underneath the bulging piece of meat and then brought my right hand over to latch onto the mound with both of my hands – realizing I still couldn’t reach around the massive thing. It didn’t matter, though. I could feel the hardness through his shirt and that’s all I needed to keep my cock fully hard for the entire ride home – as if it weren’t going to stay erect for as long as I was near the big muscle daddy anyway. Liam kept stealing glances at me and I swear his smile alone made my cock want to spew. If Helen of Troy had a face that launched a thousand ships, then this man had a face that could cause world war three. I loved how the crevices across his forehead and around his eyes only made him more handsome – not at all craggily looking. Even through his designer glasses I could see that his eyes were now piercingly blue-gray – a clearness that obviously came from having an incredibly healthy body. The man’s sexy salt and pepper, slicked back hair only highlighted his strong forehead, his muscular cheeks, and his sharp jaw-line even more. I found myself suddenly not focused on his giant body – for the first time all week. His face excited me, too. “God, you are devastatingly handsome, Liam. How can a sixty-eight year old man look so good? You put guys a third of your age to shame.” “I guess it’s just good genes and taking care of yourself.” “I bet couples would pay millions of dollars to have your sperm – just so their babies would have your genes. It wouldn’t matter if they were gay or straight!” “I’m not sure about that, but I will tell you that I wouldn’t mind any child of mine looking like you, Makana. That perpetually tanned skin, those beautiful dark eyes, and that hot little body is what any person would want their son to look like.” “Maybe a mixture of our sperms would create something pretty perfect!” I was making a joke, but the look on Liam’s face told me he thought it was a seriously good idea. I squeezed his biceps hard – not denting it in at all – and that caused him to tense the muscle, which forced my interlocked fingers apart. I tried my hardest to hold on, but the swelling meat pushed my hands apart. It was incredible to watch – even as I desperately tried to keep my fingers together. Liam then flexed his gun a few times just to emphasize its size and power. “Just think about that biceps growing, Makana, as it presses your body up and down in the air. Look at that swole arm, son. You ever see a gun so big? Or felt something so hard?” “Not ever. It’s like concrete or something.” “Here, Makana, let’s allow you to get up close and personal with my big arm.” Liam pushed his big bulging gun into my face – not in a vicious way, but more to allow me to feel the huge thing against my cheek, nose, and forehead. He kept pushing upward and his arm made my head go with it – my neck and upper body were definitely no match for the strength of his one gun. As if on automatic pilot, my lips puckered up and started kissing the hard-as-rock skin that surrounded his mountainous peak. The smacking of my oral adulation rang out through the cab of the truck and Liam started making sounds of approval that almost sounded like a growl. Before I knew it, Liam’s own lips were pressing gently into the other side of his flexed biceps. I glanced out the front window, without even missing a beat of my work on his arm, and noticed we were stopped at the light of an intersection. Somehow, both of us kissing his massive bulging arm thrilled me even more. I stared at the big man’s beautiful eyes over the tensed peak of his biceps. In between kisses, Liam spoke. “Look how my arm is big enough for both of us to have a feast, Makana. It’s like being on opposite sides of a mountain, isn’t it? I can tell you like it when I kiss my own huge biceps. You like me worshipping my own muscles, son?” “Mmmm hmmm” I didn’t need to reply really. I’m sure my face clearly showed how stimulated I got from watching him licking and kissing his giant arm. This was something new for me. I loved rubbing my hands all over a muscled stud and I also loved kissing bulging hard-beef packed on a big body – but there was something about watching this older enormous daddy getting off on his own body that sent my orgasmic meter through the roof. It was clear that Liam wasn’t just ‘acting’ for my benefit or pleasure – he was actually causing his own juices to flow harder and faster by feeling his own lips smash into his hard muscle and by tasting the same sweaty saltiness that was blessing my mouth when we licked the giant mass between us. When the light turned green, Liam pulled his face away from our mutual adoration and began to drive again. He, however, didn’t lessen the flex of his arm or move it away from my face. I continued to feel his stone-like meaty bulge press into my face and it continued to give me a glimpse of his body’s power. I don’t think there was an inch of his big biceps that I didn’t caress with either a kiss or a swipe of my loving tongue. Liam kept glancing over at my expert performance and I could tell he was excited beyond what he thought was possible. I was sure he was beginning to grasp the fact that I was truly a top-notch muscle daddy worshipper. I had tried to tell him that, but I now understood that my actions spoke much louder than my words. I undid my seatbelt and went up on one knee, so I could put my face in the deep recess between his bulging forearm and biceps. I nestled my head down as far as his hard muscles would allow me to go. I then said only one word – knowing it would please Liam completely. His loud moan was the only affirmation I needed. “Squeeze.” Liam tensed his fist and biceps at the same time. This caused my cheeks and the side of my head to be compressed by hard muscle that suddenly bulged out with added power. The big man wanted to make me feel his tightening sinew in a way that I would never forget. He needed me to feel how much strength existed in just his flexing beef. Liam didn’t want to hurt me, but he definitely wanted to give my head a shot of pain – because that’s what he knew I wanted. I suddenly knew what it felt to be a pecan caught in a huge nutcracker. My temples and cheeks felt like they were going to be bent out of shape once he finished his torture. I even got the feeling that Liam wasn’t using all of his strength – and still the pain was incredible. Luckily, the guy knew better than to keep my head locked in his strong vice-like grip for long. He knew I’d either blackout or have a headache for two days if he continued to send pressure into his arm. I didn’t realize how happy I would be once he released my head. I had wanted to feel the squeeze, but only Liam had known how intense the torture would be. He clearly didn’t want me to suffer too much and I was very thankful. I could still feel his muscles pressing into my head even twenty seconds after I had been released from the crevice in his arm. I sat back down on the seat and buckled my belt in silence. My cock was so hard and ready to shoot that I needed to take a long break from touching the elder man in any way. Feeling the power of his flexing arm around my head had simply been so intense that if the evening had ended right then I could have used that sensation to beat-off for the rest of my life. I could tell by Liam’s silence – and the fact that he didn’t look at me once – that he felt the same way. He had to adjust his large cock right after I pulled my head away, the experience of smashing my head with his biceps and forearm was something new for him, too. “That was incredible, Makana.” “Uh huh. I can’t wait until you squeeze my head between those monster quads of yours, Liam. We’ll have to work out a ‘safe sign’ that will alert you when I’ve had too much. And then we can always have fun by you squeezing my face between your ass cheeks, too.” “You’re going to have to be quiet for a while, son. I’m too close to the edge for the hundredth time this evening and I’m not sure I can make it much longer.” We sat in silence for the rest of the trip to Liam’s large Tudor home on the edge of town. It was a big house for a big man. I didn’t really pay attention too much about the place as we entered because as soon as we were in the door I ran and jumped on Liam. He had shut the front door and turned to face me and I simply jumped into his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. Liam grabbed my ass with his big hands and lifted me higher against his massive chest. He was smiling like the Cheshire cat and it made me feel right at home. “You’ve been planning that for a while, haven’t you?” “Yes sir. I couldn’t wait until you held me with your huge arms.” “Why don’t I carry you around for a tour.” “That sounds great. I think I’ll play with your chest while we go. Do you mind?” “Be my guest.” “Oh yeah, look at those beautiful white covered mountains. I never knew two pecs could look so incredible.” I had unbuttoned the front and had his shirttails pulled from his pants. The shirt was pushed back on his mammoth shoulders and this exposed his chest completely. The pecs were hard, severely muscled, and thicker than huge couch cushions. I wanted to bury my face deep within the crevice between his huge pecs, again, but needing to view the humongous shelf of muscle from my vantage point was much more important. Liam toured me through his entire large house – upstairs and down stairs – as I sat in his giant hands and played with his hard nipples the entire time. I loved how the salt and pepper fur cascaded over his mountainous chest like a waterfall of sexiness. The man’s body was definitely that of someone older, but the muscles and his size made him look super masculine and years younger than he really was. By the time we got to the beautiful master bedroom I had succeeded in abusing his nipples so much that they were red and swollen hard. I longed to suck on one of those huge plugs, but waited, thinking that might be a task for later. Liam had loved all of the torture I gave to his cork-sized nips. He would sometimes stop in mid-sentence as he was pointing out something in his place and need to catch his breath or let out a quick moan when I twisted with all my might or pulled on the hard things. The big man also loved carrying me around his house – like I was some small child being shown his new school. Every once and a while, Liam would easily lift my body higher so my cock would rub against his stomach – knowing that even through the material of my slacks my cock head would get much satisfaction from bumping up and down his corrugated abdominals. His big biceps would bulge out the sleeves of his shirt even more when he lifted my body higher and I’d exhale loudly each time, totally transfixed by how huge his arms were. Liam was standing in the middle of his spacious bedroom and I could tell he was deciding what was next. “It feels good to carry you around, Makana. You feel so small and light in my arms. It’s like you’re content to let this big man take the lead, but I want to make sure you feel like you’re part of this equation too. Don’t hesitate to tell this old man what you want and I’ll make it happen.” I sensed that the muscled hulk was moving back into some unchartered territories. I somehow realized that Liam wanted me to stay the submissive worshipper, but I also got the feeling he wanted to stretch the boundaries of our appointed roles. I felt my body getting turned on in a new and exciting way – Liam wanted me to lead the worshipping. I could tell that this included telling him what to do. I felt a charge go through my crotch that energized me for the task. I had already noticed a weight bench in one area of the room and it had a bar loaded with an insane amount of weights. My mind was racing a hundred miles an hour with some fun times we could have in that part of the room. “Sit on the bench, big guy, with your back against the bar.” Liam immediately moved – a sign that I was correct in my decision to lead – and he sat exactly as I asked. I had to spread my legs a little more to accommodate the width of his massive quads, now on either side of the bench. I was shocked to see that his shoulders just fit between the weights on either side of the long bar and that made me stop in awe at how un-freaking-believably wide the guy really was, something I surprisingly kept forgetting. The huge man’s eager face was almost comical as he stared at me waiting for the next order. I felt this dichotomy in my head – being totally eager to submit myself to this man in any way he asked, but also excited to boss him around as we moved through our worshipping dance. It was clear that Liam loved the contradiction, as well. I became a little more forceful, which caused him to shiver with joy. “Lose the shirt, muscleman.” Liam’s hands left my ass and immediately started unbuttoning his cuffs. Within just a few seconds the button-down was tossed on the floor and I got my first cock-filling look at his naked upper body. His chest had been enough to almost send me over the edge, so nothing could have prepared me for what I felt when I took in his uncovered arms and shoulders. I absolutely loved how his skin looked a little like you would expect for someone sixty-eight, but then when you packed huge bulging muscles underneath it your mind almost couldn’t compute how it was possible to be this big and this old at the same time. Skin and muscles stretching to enormous proportions had ironed out all wrinkles, but there were a few age spots, lots of gray hairs among the black ones, and a weathered look that could only be called fucking sexy. My cock edged closer to spewing that it had all night – but I was able to avoid an accident by giving another order. “Unzip my pants and free the monster that wants to show you how happy you make me.” The look on Liam’s face was priceless. The big man showed so much excitement he looked like a kid that had just been promised a three-scooped ice cream cone. I actually think the man’s hands were shaking a little when he reached out to undo my belt. This giant was just extremely excited that I would so quickly fall into the position of taking the lead. The anticipation was killing him. He pulled the belt away from my waist with one quick pull and then tossed it to the side. He then undid the button at the top of my pants, pulled the zipper down, and then took a big inhale as he grabbed the waistband of my underwear and pulled it over my raging hard-on. Liam exhaled with a loud moan as he took in my hard pole. “Damn, Makana, that’s just plain beautiful, that is. It looks good enough to eat – like a rock hard piece of long, thick candy.” “Well, I definitely plan on stuffing your mouth with it, Liam, but I’ve got a surprise for you when I do.” “I love surprises, Makana.” “I think you’re really going to love this one. Flex your biceps, big man, and make them extra hard.” “That shouldn’t be a problem.” When Liam raised his arms in a double biceps flex it was my turn to inhale and moan at the same time. I had already seen his guns in a short sleeved shirt at work and watched them bulge nicely in his tight dress shirt earlier in the evening, but seeing his giant pythons uncovered completely was like seeing the ocean for the first time – it made you believe in a god. This man was surely carved out by some lustful deity that wanted to have something enormous and beautiful to watch on a daily basis. I was actually beginning to think that Liam was actually a demigod that was sent down to earth to drive men like me insane. There was no way a sixty-eight year old man should have such massively thick biceps and triceps. His arms actually made his gorgeous head look small – that’s how large the mounds were. The sudden twinkle in Liam’s eyes told me he was proud of how his big arms made me turn into a blabbering idiot. My eyes behaved like I was watching a ping pong match and bounced back and forth from one mountainous peak to the other. His arms had bulges in places where most men merely had skin and bone. I didn’t know biceps could have so many multiple peaks and be covered in so many thick veins. Liam clearly put big men in their twenties to shame. There was just something about all that massiveness on a mature man that turned my crank so much harder and farther than a beefed up young guy. It just felt like Liam would know what to do with his body more than someone less experienced – he could use his body to please both me and himself in ways that other guys half his age could never even dream of. It was all about the wisdom and the experience that came with the age. “The boy likes the ‘ceps, doesn’t he? Pretty huge, huh?” “Yes to both questions. Hold that pose, Liam. It’s time for a little fun.” I moved to my knees on Liam’s huge thighs. His body was so big and so hard it felt like I was merely squirming around on the floor, but it was really on his mega wide quads. I then stood on the bench between his legs. This put me high enough to put my smallish hands on his massive peaks. It felt like I was grabbing hold of giant warm rocks. I then positioned my pointing cock against his lips. Liam responded by opening his mouth and allowing my hard piece to slide between his succulent lips. I immediately pressed hard down on his flexed arms. My body went up into the air as I pushed down. This also caused my dick to slide further into his throat. I then bent my arms and lowered my body down, allowing my cock to slide partially out of his mouth. I was amazed at how easily I found the strength to basically pump my entire frame up and down on his huge arms – and the flexed hard guns didn’t budge at all. I was using his biceps to do dips and allowing my cock to be serviced by his inviting mouth at the same time. Liam loved the action as much as I did and was slurping up my hard tool with moans of pleasure. He even tensed his arms up and down to add to my motion. On the tenth dip my arms began to wobble and the big man could feel the shaking. He brought his hands to my waist and took over. He continued to lift and lower my body easily with his muscled arms and even increased the motion to give my cock greater pleasure. Somehow, Liam sensed I was getting a little too close to release, so he allowed my cock to pop out of his mouth and then he set my body back down on his big thighs. “That, my little friend, was incredible. I like the way you used my biceps to give yourself some convenient leverage.” “I like how your big arms didn’t move at all, Liam. That looks like a pretty heavy weighted bar you got there.” “Yeah, it’s everything I’ve got, I’m afraid, and it still doesn’t really give me a good workout.” I moved off of his legs and then around to stand at the bar. Liam slid his body down the bench and then laid back – his head just below my crotch, with my dick still sticking out from my pants. He was staring up at me – taking in the hard pole and my face at the same time. I reached down and grabbed the bar. I tried to lift it, but the weight was too much. I couldn’t even get the bar to budge more than a little from its resting place. I grabbed the thing from underneath, instead, and it still wouldn’t move much when I tried to lift with all my might. The big man just smiled even more broadly as I desperately tried to move the weighted bar. I finally gave up, having tired myself out easily. Liam caught my attention by clearing his throat – I looked at his beautiful face below. “Want me to give you a little help, young man. It looks like you might need a big old strong man to help you. Why don’t you let this senior muscleman show you how it’s done?” “Yes, please. Please make it look very easy.” My answer thrilled him as much as his teasing words had excited me. I stepped back a little and removed my hands from the bar. I gulped loudly when I saw Liam reach up and place only his right hand in the middle of the bar. He then pushed up easily – with just one freaking hand – and the bar easily came up in the air. He had no problem keeping the heavy thing steady. The teasing senior citizen was chuckling a little as he brought the entire bar down to his chest and then powered it back up into the air and then began again. I stared at him for about five minutes while he handled an insane amount of weight with just one hand for many reps. “It drives you wild that such an old man can do what I’m doing, doesn’t it Makana?” “Yes.” “Even more than if I was twenty-five and still could do it.” “Yes.” “Man, that thrills me even more than you know, son. I absolutely love blasting stereotypes about old men apart and shocking younger fellows at the same time. Your obvious lust for older muscle men just fuels me on, Makana. I don’t think you even begin to understand how much your lustful face and hard cock excite me. Press your body up on the bar, boy.” Liam’s words were making my libido go crazy. I loved hearing him talk about himself – almost as much as he did. I knew exactly what he wanted to do and jumped into action at his request. He had lowered the bar about half way down and was holding it in place with his arms slightly bent. I moved over, spread my legs so I could get closer to the bar, and locked my arms on the bar. Conveniently, this made my ass and balls hang in the air just above the big man’s face. Even though I still had my pants on, I knew there was going to be some extra thrill coming from what was about to happen. Liam pressed the bar up into the air – still using only his right hand. My feet left the ground as the weights and my body went into the air. I bent my legs back at the knees and when Liam brought the bar down, my pants-covered balls came smack down into the big man’s waiting face. His warm mouth and powerful tongue were ready to please me – even through the material. I could feel the warmth of his mouth as he cupped his lips around my two testicles and squeezed them teasingly. My arms quivered a little and my body shook as I pressed myself on the bar. Liam flicked his tongue against the bottom of my balls and I moaned out loud. Suddenly, my body went back into the air as Liam pressed everything easily up with his one hand. “Look how much weight this big arm can lift, Makana – including your tight little body. It’s more fun for me to lift this way – I get to taste and look at something that can spur me on even more. I also get even more strength pumping through this big arm knowing your excitement is now ‘off the charts.’ You just can’t believe that gramps, here, could toss around so much poundage so easily, can you?” “No sir.” “And then when I lower your body like this and teasingly bite at your balls you go even crazier for my big senior muscles, don’t you.” “Yes sir.” “You like adding a little more weight to my lifting, Makana?” “I’d rather be your barbell myself, sir.” “Aw man, that’s the hottest thing you’ve said so far. I think that can be arranged. Time to jump off of this senior daddy’s weights. Let’s have a little direct contact to stimulate us more.” I pushed my body away from the bar as he pushed it back up and then placed it in the rests. Liam then pulled his body out from under the bar and turned it around on the bench, so his head now rested on the other end. I realized immediately what he was doing and it thrilled my crotch area even more. I glanced down and saw that his own cock was looking more like a rolled up beach towel stuffed in his pants and stretching down his thigh. I was so excited that Liam was so turned on. I was desperately trying to think of anything to thrill him more, but then it dawned on me that he would continue to get exhilarated in deeper ways if I simply did things to show my lust for his elder muscled body. My adoration for him was all he needed to get even more excited – and that, in turn, spurred me on even more. I walked to the other end of the bench and let my body fall over into his large hands. I knew it would be easier for my frame to stay stiff like a board if I laid across his palm with my face to the ceiling, so that’s what I did. I also knew it would give him the perfect view of my ass – one of his favorite parts of my body. “Yeah, Makana, thanks for placing that nice ass in plain sight. That will definitely inspire me to crank out some repetitions. Of course, you’re so light I could keep doing it all night, but it will still be fun to lift you in the air this way. I’ll also take some teasing bites at your beautiful butt and that will make you get off even more, too.” My mind went back to the first time I ever rode a huge rollercoaster as soon as he pushed my body into the air and the lowered it again. The thrill of being lifted by this senior muscle daddy was much greater than screaming down the final huge hill of a killer amusement park ride, but it still triggered that memory. I actually let out a soft scream and threw my hands in the air. This made Liam start cranking me up and down even faster – an action that sent me into sensory overload. I didn’t know what it was about knowing that a sixty-eight year old was easily benching my body into the air that elated me so much, but the proof was in the wet stain that was now appearing at my crotch area as I leaked copious amounts of pre-cum. Without even looking at them I knew Liam’s massive arms were bulging into giant hard mounds as he lowered my entire body – light to him – down to his chest and then pummeled it back upward. How I desperately wished there had been a camera focused on us, so I would be able to see how the action looked from the outside. I certainly liked watching guys lift the back end of a car or seeing heavy weighted bars being pushed into the air, but there was just something about seeing a guy totally dominate another man by lifting his smaller or equal-sized body into the air that boiled my juices quicker than anything. I think part of it was how defenseless the guy in the air became as soon as big arms held him overhead, but the other part was how the action made the guy underneath look so powerful and like such a hot dominator. I couldn’t lie to myself; I loved it most when the guy that was lifting the other dude was all cocky as shit and loved getting off on what he was doing, too. Liam clearly sensed this desire without me having to say a word. “Yeah, Makana, I can feel how this gives you an even better picture of how impressive my old man body really is – as if you needed any more proof. You just love how I can manhandle your entire body so easily, don’t you? Yeah, I may be up in my years, son, but I’ve been packing on muscle for a while now. Mature strength is hot to you because you know that along with the insane energy comes some wisdom, too. I’ve got years of experience with men so I know what will make that cock of yours hard faster than anything. I also can hold you in the air for a very long time – long enough to actually wear you out first. I could start spinning you around to make you pass out from dizziness, squeeze you so hard that you blacked out, or just cause you to go unconscious with the most heart-pounding orgasm of your entire life. Not to worry, little man, I’m not here to do any of those things. I just wanted to emphasize I could do all of them if I wanted to. You’re basically at my disposal and I could make you do anything I please. But I grant you free will, son. I just want to watch you get off as I talk about my power over you. The fun is going to come as we explore all this muscle worshipping stuff together. Knowing that I got such a senior daddy loving muscle whore is just icing on the cake. When you get excited about my body or my strength, I get more turned on, as well.” Liam had no idea what his words did to me. I was now a total wreck. I didn’t know whether to let my cock explode in pleasure, cry tears of utter joy at the bond I felt with the guy, or scream out loud in happiness from the thought that a senior muscleman was boasting about what his massive body could do. There were so many emotions running around in my head that I simply chose to shut down and enjoy the ride as the big man pressed me up and down for what must have been the something-hundredth time. I suddenly felt the room moving even more as Liam continued to crank out reps with my body. It took me a second but I finally realized he was easily standing up as he continued to push me in the air. He glided up off of his back and then up from the bench as if he were a kid jumping out of bed in the morning for Saturday cartoons. It didn’t even register to him that he was lifting a full-grown man into the air as he stood. I could sense the new height my body reached as soon as I was up in the air because I was closer to the ceiling. I could feel that Liam had now moved into perfect shoulder presses, and when I glanced down all the furniture looked a little smaller. The guy collecting social security didn’t show any sign of strain or being the least bit weary. My body was so light that he would probably only start to get a pump after lifting me for forty-eight hours straight. The goal of this little change of position, however, was only about moving toward the giant mirrored sliding door of his closet. Liam flipped my body slightly and grabbed me tightly at my hip and my chest, underneath my arm. His big hands easily fit around both parts of my body. He did this to enable me to easily watch what he was doing and I was immediately grateful. It also, however, put me in a total swivet, since he easily held my body on my side. “Look at that, Makana. I can hold your body in the air as easily as you might hold a roll of wrapping paper – although I think your arms would get tired a lot faster than mine. Just look how my big papa guns swell when I hold you like this. I have to tense them myself, though, because you don’t have enough weight to challenge them at all. Just look how massive I look holding you this way. I remember watching Steve Reeves hold guys in the air like this in his Hercules movies, but that was always for just a few seconds and I could tell the men he was picking up jumped a little to make it easier for the actor. I don’t need any help, Makana. I can pump your entire body up and down without any other support than these huge biceps. I like the sloppy mess you’ve made at your crotch, son. Is that what my body has done to you?” “Your body and your comments.” “Yeah, that’s good, Makana. What’s the use of muscle worship without a little verbal encouragement added to the mix? I love talking about and hearing other people comment about my enormity and my strength. It’s almost as good as the kissing, the groping, and the squeezing from a smaller man. You should hear me when I talk to myself working out. I’m my own cheering section – barking out orders, cheering myself on, and handing out the compliments when I flex to show off the results.” “I’d love to watch that sometime.” “I think that can be arranged, sport, I think that can be arranged.” “I think the great thing about being verbal, Liam, is that it can lead to actions that can bring about a lot more pleasure. It’s like an audio map that can help you zone in on fulfilling desires. It’s probably why some people talk dirty when they’re having sex.” “Give me an example, Makana.” We were both staring at our reflections in the mirror. I was focused on him and he was focused on me. I knew he fully understood what I was talking about; he just wanted to have me say some things that would turn his crank up a few more notches. He also clearly understood that it would excite me, as well. I looked at his face and his pretend pleading look, telling me that chatting about his body was going to please him very much. The big man started to pump my body up and down slowly, just to egg me on even more. I chose my words wisely, just to tease him tremendously. “You’re a gorgeous freak of nature, Liam. Most guys your age and even those younger find it completely impossible to do things you take for granted – benching over three hundred pounds, lifting grown men overhead, or flexing what looks to be at least a twenty-three inch arm…” “Almost twenty-five.” “An almost twenty-five inch arm. Most guys take it easy when they go into retirement, big man. Those guys start to slow down and maybe start to turn to flab at certain parts of their body. But look at you, Liam. Your older man muscles bulge out harder and bigger than most young guys on the bodybuilding circuit. And by the way that big log is also bulging in your pants I don’t think you’re in need of any Viagra or testosterone cream. Hell, they probably use your cum to make the damn cream. You’ve been lifting my body for about fifteen minutes and there’s no sign of you slowing down. You’re a freaking senior muscle machine, Liam. You mentioned Hercules films earlier, well who needs a movie about some demigod when you’re around. You’re the real deal and you’re a mature master muscleman, which makes you a hell-of-a lot hotter. It’s knowing that you’ve been building up to this point for many years – packing on muscles on top of muscles so you can be freaky huge and strong as an ox. I love watching younger men get intimidated by you in the store at work. You can walk up to some relatively big guy and ask if he needs help, but when the poor dude takes a look at you it’s usually like the guy’s dick shrivels up inside of him and he stammers out ‘no thanks.’ I think most men don’t want to be seen walking around with you because it makes them look so insufficient and small. And having you be all gray-haired and up in your years makes it even more embarrassing.” “Wow, that explains a lot, Makana. I didn’t realize that.” “How could you, Liam, since you’re usually looking for ways to show off and not focused on what they are doing. Do you actually own any shirt that isn’t skin tight?” “Um . . . I don’t think so. Why would I? I think I need to constantly show off these huge muscles, don’t you?” “Of course I do, but some guys are a little intimidated . . . well, actually a lot intimidated. And then there’s the way you carry most things that other guys put on a dolly to transport – a stack full of lumber, a dishwasher, or a gas grill. You just hoist those things into your arms like they weigh nothing and most of your co-workers and a bunch of the customers get freaked out. They don’t get excited by a jacked up muscle gramps like I do. They first are shocked by your surprising size and strength and then they start to worry that everyone else in the store is comparing them to you. They panic that if they are standing next to you they’re going to look pathetic and weak. They also feel the need to do something to show their manliness, but usually can’t come close to matching things you do. I’ve seen guys try to pick up the dishwashers you carry so easily and they can barely lift an edge of the box off the ground. You pick the entire thing up with one arm, but all they can do is slide it across the floor. There’s nothing that will cool the jets of a hotshot twenty year old guy quicker than being shown up by a man he things should be using a walker. The other day you didn’t even realize that a pile of bound lumber that took four men to carry to the check out line was the same bunch you easily tossed over one shoulder and carried out to the waiting truck. Those four guys were moping around the rest of the day. I’m telling you, Liam, most men can’t stand to be out-powered by someone older than their grandfather.” “Well, I can’t help it if I love lifting things. And besides, why aren’t you intimidated like the others?” “Cause I’m a freak of nature, too, Liam. I am not attracted to some young doofus that thinks he’s a tough guy – no, I’ve trained myself to look for the real deal and I knew you were legit the moment I saw you from across the store. I was more than halfway across the front of the Depot from you and I could tell you were huge. You were like the largest peak of a mountain standing out among all the lesser peaks. Everyone near you looked like a little kid. And then to crank my lust meter even higher, you were a mature muscle master – someone who’s lived a long life and knows much more than the average yokel you might meet at a bar or gym. I’m always drawn to a man that’s probably kissed so many times throughout his life that he’s now a pro – just because of his age. The same thing goes for an older guy when you take him to bed. You know he’s going to know how to please a man. If I have a choice between experience and innocence I’m going to go for experience every time. I don’t want to be teaching some guy how to please me – I want a man that knows it just by instinct – just because he’s pleased a lot of men over the years.” “I have pleased a lot of men in the past, Makana.” “And fuck, if you slap some monstrous muscles on an older man’s body he’s usually going to love being worshipped and showing off. It’s true for ninety nine percent of the senior musclemen I’ve met – they just love it when guys get off on their size and feats of strength. I think it goes back to the idea that they love surprising people with their ‘never would have guessed in a million years’ big bodies. I watch you, Liam. You love coming up behind guys and watching the look on their faces when they turn around. You did it tonight in the restaurant a few times. The host was blown away when you walked in the door and he looked up to find you standing by his little stand. You freaked our waiter out on purpose when you stood behind him after coming back from the bathroom the first time he stopped by the table. And you do it in the store all the time. That poor jock guy named Marco is constantly looking over his shoulder because you always seem to pop up with your big body just to surprise him by being twice his size.” “He does seem to avoid me a lot.” “Because he can’t compete with you, that’s why. He’s probably been the alpha stud everywhere else he’s ever worked or played – but at the Depot he has to play second fiddle to some gray haired man that’s retired and still growing. He has no idea how to process the fact that you dwarf him on every body part. He can’t compete with you in any way. It’s hard to be runner-up when you’ve been first place for all of your life. Damn, Liam, you still look so hot lifting me up and down. I’ve been staring at us forever, but it’s still so freaking incredible watching your big body push me up and down so easily.” “I’m still hard as hell watching it, too, Makana. Looking at your tight body makes me really hard.” “Well, it must be working big time, because you’re hard all over. You entire body must be a hard-on. What part of you isn’t muscled?” “Um . . . can’t think of any.” “I thought so. Hey, Liam, I’m actually getting a little seasick. My legs may need to feel some solid ground for a while. Or, at least, my body needs to lay on something really solid. You got any suggestions?” “I think I must be the most solid thing in the room – so how would that do, Makana?” “It sounds perfect, but I believe it’s time for some full skin-on-skin action.” “I couldn’t agree more, son.” Liam brought his arms to the side and let my feet land on the floor once again. I was a little wobbly after being tossed around so easily for so long. The big man moved one of his big hands to the back of my neck and kept me sturdy by squeezing tightly. Some guys would have complained about pain, but I loved how his strong hand could easily keep me in place with just a little pressure from his huge fingers. It felt like I was wearing a collar made of steel or something. With his other hand, Liam pushed my pants down to my ankles, along with my underwear. I kicked off my shoes, used my feet to push off my socks and then stepped out of the jumbled slacks. I felt like a doll the giant man was undressing. Next, Liam undid his own pants and when he pushed everything down beyond his huge cock and giant quads I couldn’t help myself – I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Oh my god, you’re fucking huge everywhere!” “I hope that’s okay, Makana.” “It’s more than okay, it’s wonderful. It’s the way it should be. A colossal muscle daddy should have a colossal daddy dick. It keeps the universe balanced.” “And it keeps the boys happy.” “I’m sure it does.” Without any warning, Liam cupped his free arm underneath my knees and kept his other hand around the back of my neck. He easily lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed. He placed me gently on the bedspread and then lay down beside me. I turned to look at his smiling face. “Care to climb on board my big battleship of a body, Makana?” He did not have to ask me twice. In mere seconds I was lying on top of his huge body - my chest pressing into his giant pecs, my abs rubbing against his hard ridged stomach, and my cock pressing into his own giant stiff log. I was, again, in sensory overload because I didn’t know which pleasure point to focus on. I just allowed myself to cherish the entire feeling and lived solely in the present moment. I was taken aback by how he felt like warm stone everywhere my body pressed up against him. I now understood fully why sometimes guys were referred to as ‘hard as a rock.’ Liam was a piece of chiseled aged marble and I loved feeling every pulsating muscle on his body. I squirmed a little just to rub against his bulges even more. This made the big man purr with satisfaction. “My body hard enough for you, Makana? “Yes sir.” “Look how there’s no part of you touching this bed. Your entire frame fits perfectly on my big body and there’s probably enough room for you to have a roommate. Man, I love feeling your small body on top of mine. Your entire weight is on me and I don’t register it at all. Look how your body rises up and down when I breathe – my hardness causing you to move with my chest and stomach. It’s like you have no choice – and you really don’t. I could manhandle you into doing anything I wanted to, Makana. That’s one of the joys of being this big. You just have to follow my body – moving in the ways it tells you to. I also love feeling your small cock pressing against my bigger one. It’s like a mirror image of our bodies – me all big and you’re so small. Even my cock dominates yours, Makana – just by it’s hugeness. Imagine what it would be like if I rolled my big body on top of yours. It might feel great at first, Makana, but after a while you’d find it hard to breathe and parts of your body would start to fall asleep just because you wouldn’t be able to move. And after a while, things would just go black when you passed out. I can feel your cock twitching with excitement at the thought of all my muscles on top of you. That is so hot, son.” “What a way to black out, though. Everywhere my body touches yours, Liam, it feels like stone. It’s so amazing to feel a man’s body so hard that it almost seems inhuman. Your aged body has been worked so hard over the years you’ve become like a granite moving statue. Look how I try to press in the beef of your massive chest and my finger has to bend because of your hardness. Punching you is like punching solid rock. And to think you’ve been huge like this for years – that’s incredible. The majority of the men walking around on this earth will never know what it feels like to have even half the amount of bulging muscles hanging on their body – let alone this much hugeness. Normal guys like me must look like ants to you, Liam. It must be crazy to walk around each day and feel so superior to everyone. I know you aren’t super tall or anything, but your size just makes you seem like a giant – a colossal freaking giant. So, it must be incredible to feel it from the other side. To be able to sense how much larger you are when you’re just standing near a guy or when a guy’s puny body is plopped on your massive chest and you see how small he is. It must cause a perpetual hard-on to compare yourself to the rest of the world all the time and feel deep inside how enormous you are – to constantly experience that kind of size difference. I bet it’s so fucking hot – even without even needing to flex – to cause such intimidation simply by moving into someone’s personal space. It’s no wonder you want to be worshipped, big guy – you merely want to deepen the natural response your body brings out in other men and in yourself. And other guys, whether they truthfully admit it or not, want to explore and worship your muscles – it’s a natural response after meeting you. It’s just something that’s innate in all of us when we are around such massiveness. Some straight guys suppress the desire – it’s what their environment tells them to do – but why do you think they cheer on huge football players or powerful boxers? Every guy on earth is drawn to hugeness and strength – it’s as natural as wanting sex. Your body may intimidate some guys, Liam, but know that the first response to you in any healthy man is the same desire and lust you see in my eyes. Some guys just can’t bring themselves to admitting it. When freed up to reveal our true nature – we mortals want nothing more than to worship a godlike body like yours.” I had spoken from my heart. My intention had not been to increase the sexual build-up in the big man tenfold, but my words had brought him to the brink of orgasm quicker than anything I could have done with my hands or my tongue. I knew that if I had grinded my crotch into his a little or tweaked his big hard nipple with my fingers I would have sent him over the edge and a warm torrent of Liam spunk would have shot out between us – which would have surely caused me to explode, as well. I could see in his eyes that no one had ever described so accurately how he felt. My huge friend had sensed that I was a disciple of elder musclemen, but he had not known the level of my devotion. He clearly had met other worshippers before, but none had been able to so accurately name the desires within his heart as well as being able to describe why they needed and craved big man muscle. I had pierced the core of what drove him to be a huge muscle daddy. Most of the time worshippers got it wrong – they thought enormous bodybuilders wanted to be huge because of low self esteem or a deep need to get attention. That was just a very tiny piece of what drove men to be giant muscle studs. What truly drove men to lift heavy weights until their body bulged out immensely was something pure and much more personal. Huge muscle guys want to worship the body they’ve created just as much as their admirers. They are like painters that love gazing at the beautiful pictures they have created. There are a select group of men on earth that have been given the inherent talent to create muscle masterpieces with their bodies. They have this strong never-ending need to build themselves up so they can perfect their artwork. That’s also why muscled masters turned me on so much – they could create more perfect art because of their experience. A young guy’s body can be huge and beautiful, but he won’t have the knowledge and the years of developing his talent that a mammoth muscle gramps has gained. The hard senior giant beneath me had created perfection over the years – Liam was in a class with Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Renoir, and so many others. He had been searching a long time for the perfect connoisseur of hard muscle and massiveness. He was beginning to realize that - even though I was young – my ‘eye’ and knowledge of his particular gift was above most men. He sensed that I was a true worshipper of all the talents he had poured into his aged beefiness. When he spoke next, there was a vulnerability and honesty that I had never experienced in my entire life. “You see through me, Makana. I’ve searched for someone all of my many years that might be able to understand when I shared what drove me to become so huge – and here you are expressing it before I even get the chance to. It’s true, I’ve grown huge because I love worshipping my hugeness and the perfection I’ve created, but you missed one important part of the process, as well. No painter or sculptor truly wants to create just for themselves – no, I’ve built this muscled temple for both myself and in hopes that I would find someone to share it with, someone who understood and appreciated what motivated me. No one wants to live with a masterpiece that can’t be shared. All those lonely years in the gym were spent in hopes that one day I would find someone that I could tell how much my own body turned me on – how much getting bigger muscles made me want even larger and harder ones. Up until this week no worshipper of my huge body had ever indicated that they could move past their own lust for my massiveness to fully understand or care about what drove me on in my quest. You, however, in the span of just a few minutes have cut to the very center of my thirst for muscle. How did such young man get so wise?” “Probably from hanging around senior musclemen for most of my short adult life. But, Liam, please understand that a lot of what I have shared tonight is a revelation that you have caused. I’ve had a basic understanding of what it means to be a true muscle worshipper for a long time – I was probably born with it – but watching you get off on your own body and listening to your honest sharing has opened the floodgates of understanding. I have come to learn how to be a true admirer of muscled perfection by simply allowing you to teach me. I have opened myself to your years of experience – your countless hours of staring at your own bulging mass and building an incredible love for your body. You have helped me to see everything through your eyes. I certainly bring my own lusts and desires into the mix, but hearing you talk about yourself and watching you get hard just from seeing your own reflection has educated me by first-hand experience. Granted, I was an eager and willing pupil – the first step to lifelong education and muscle conversion – but your daddy-like patience and careful teaching has made me the better student. Just like you, my worshipping is a mixture of desires to please the muscle master and to satisfy my own needs. We have both loved our neighbor as much as we love ourselves and that has made each of us the best master and the best disciple we can be.” “I’m so sorry to be so crude, Makana, but my need to fuck you is so great I think I’ll have a heart attack if you don’t sit on my cock immediately. I need to be one with you more than anything in the world. I need our bodies to be joined as much as our hearts and souls are united presently. I need this union to be perfected right now – but I will not force you. I only want what is best for both of us. Your happiness matters as much as my own.” “I know you know my answer before I even speak, Liam. To have you inside of me would be the greatest gift you could offer this disciple.” I pushed my body upward by pressing my hands against his massive chest. As my body moved away from his and my legs fell to the side of his huge frame my heart swelled with joy. I gazed at his massiveness and knew that this moment was the closest thing to earthbound heaven I had ever felt. I also had a feeling it was the beginning of a life of being in heaven. I knelt over Liam’s huge body, realizing that he was so huge I’d have to actually push my body higher with my legs to move my ass into place. When his cock pressed between my cheeks I felt the presence of so much pre-cum I knew the penetration would be less painful than I anticipated. I moved my hands to his hard nipples and latched onto the big plugs as the head of his huge cock pushed into my hole. “Oh hell, Makana, you are so fucking tight. I’m so sorry if I explode prematurely.” “Hang on there, big guy. The chute is as tight as the opening. You need to feel the complete pleasure-filled package before you unload inside of me. Use that muscle strength of yours to hold on, senior daddy.” “Damn, your ass muscles can put up a good fight, son. My cock is having to work hard to get beyond that puckered opening.” “The better to please you, old man, the better to please you.” Both of us were speaking through gritted teeth – because of the intense pleasure and pain being provided to our bodies from the other man. It felt like the larger end of a baseball bat was being crammed into my ass and I was sure that to Liam it felt like his cock was being pressed into the crack of a cement wall. I had always been complimented on my intense ass strength and tight hole – something Liam was now experiencing firsthand. I also knew I had very little chance of holding out against his power rod for much longer, but I desired to give him as much extreme pleasure as possible until he did break through completely into my compact warm fortress. It was a huge turn on to me to see Liam’s body break out into a light sheen of sweat. The big man could have easily shoved his battering ram into me without any problem, but he wanted to draw out the pleasure as long as he could – for both of us. Liam knew that his cock was sending me through the orgasmic roof. The intense bonding of our hearts had been the most powerful foreplay of both of our lives. Lovemaking was going to be the act of cementing a deep commitment that both of us knew would never be broken. Even before his cockhead penetrated me for the first time I knew I would be with this man for the rest of my life. From this day forward I would never need anyone else to please me in any way. I also knew Liam had a good forty years left in this world – he was just that powerful. I also knew he would be huge for all of those years. I would never look at any other man without comparing him immediately to the senior muscle-packed gramps beneath me. I also knew deep inside that Liam fully understood he had found the ultimate worshipper and partner. My new lover realized he would never have to worry about anyone ever understanding him completely again – he had found the man of his dreams and that guy’s ass was about to be filled by his muscleman big cock. All of this was swirling around in my head as Liam’s thickness was pushing into me slowly. As soon as his fat mushroom head thrust beyond the tight opening of my chute the only words that could possibly encompass what both of us were feeling came out of my mouth. “I love you, my muscle god.” This triggered the big man in a way I could not have anticipated. Instead of answering me with useless words – something that seemed so inadequate – he did something much more permanent and revealing of his feelings. He shoved his full cock into my body with one strong push of his crotch and started ejaculating powerfully into my body. Every single muscle of his huge frame shot into a hardness that was unfathomable to me until that point. It felt like I was sitting on a stone wall with a granite pole up my ass. The powerful roar that the guy emitted was so intense that I believe it was what actually caused me to start spewing cum wildly – instead of because my ass was now filled completely. Liam quickly started bucking his hips up and down as he came – wanting to increase the pleasure of his ejaculation for both of us. And that was exactly the effect his expert fucking had on both of our bodies – we got double the fun. My cum shot out like a blast from a cannon – shooting way past Liam’s head and splattering against the headboard. Even in the midst of intense ecstasy the big man was able to register what his plowing had caused me to do and it encouraged him on even more. He shoved his cock into me harder just to see my next spurt of cum shoot out even more powerfully. We both loved the sound of my thick jism hitting the wood beyond his head. Meanwhile, I was a little worried that my small body wouldn’t be able to handle the giant load of cum his cock was pumping into my body. His cock was so huge he plugged my hole so tightly that nothing seeped out. Even though Liam was much larger and certainly more powerful than me, our ejaculations lasted the same amount of time. I think that was simply due to what the muscle daddy brought out in me. His muscles caused me to be powerful, too. Finally, after what seemed like ages, our heaving bodies stopped pumping out copious amounts of cum. His body softened its tension, but his muscles remained hard as hell. I knew our heavy breathing probably wouldn’t subside for a good twenty minutes. Liam was the first to speak. “I haven’t cum like that for over fifty years.” “Really? I shoot like that all the time.” He knew that I was teasing and he reached up to tickle my sides with both of his big hands – something that made me squirm wildly on his still-hard cock. This was exactly the reaction he hoped tickling me would cause. The added motion caused both of our dicks to spew out a few more drops of our man juice. I was utterly amazed my body had anything left inside of it. Long streaks of my thick cum were plastered across his massive upper torso – some of it sliding down the heavy muscled peaks that were his chest. Liam purposefully twitched his cock within my ass – to show off what he was capable of doing and to thrill me even more. His strong hands were gripping my sides and had clearly kept me in place as he had thrust his crotch up and down. I was pretty sure my ass would be sore later on, but I didn’t care. I had just ridden the oldest and most talented bucking bronco in the stable. I knew I would never ride any other huge dude again. I had become a one senior muscle daddy guy in a matter of a few minutes. Why would I ever need anyone else since I was with the master of all masters? Liam was slowly rocking his crotch up and down to massage my cum-filled insides even more. I think he knew this action would lessen the pain I would certainly feel later – it also brought me great joy at the present moment. It was another sign of his incredible experience as a senior muscle daddy. I loved feeling his huge body rocking mine back and forth as if I weighed nothing. I was like a little toy in his big powerful hands. Liam was staring at me intently and I knew he was about to say something that wasn’t to be taken lightly. “I love you too, Makana. I know it doesn’t make sense after only knowing each other just under one week, but there you have it. I’ve never met anyone that understood me so completely. I’ve also never met anyone that felt so snug around my hard cock.” “You say the nicest things.” “I mean it. This has been the best night of my life – the best week of my life. I knew there was a connection from the moment you started showing me around the store on my first day, but I never knew it would be this intense. I never knew I would want someone so much. I don’t want to come across as a scary stalker, but being near you forever is all I’d ever need for the rest of my life. I’m sure of it. Please, Makana, tell me something I could do to repay you. What could I give you that would come close to matching all that you have given me?” “Well, Liam, there is one thing that would please me tremendously – now that you mention it. It would make me even happier than I am right now. I can only think of one thing I could possibly want.” “Name it, Makana, and I promise I’ll make it happen.” “The only thing I want . . . the only thing I need, my huge muscle daddy, is for you to continue to get bigger. That would make me very happy.” To say my comment pleased the big man was an understatement. I had not only spoken the truth about what I really wanted, but I had tapped into his deepest desire, as well. I had known my answer would affect him deeply, but I was in no way prepared for how much. Suddenly the thick, hard cock – still shoved deeply within my tight ass – started spewing a second time. I had no idea any man could shoot so quickly after the kind of massive orgasm that had come before – but, then again, I was not sitting on the stiff pole of just any man. I was sitting on the pulsating dick of Liam – my giant muscle daddy. His intense orgasm lasted for a while and then he was finally calm enough to speak. “I guess I don’t have to tell you how happy your request made me.” “No, I felt your joy shooting all up inside me! I’m not sure how much of your thick juice I can handle – it’s making me pretty full.” “Yeah, I can see that. Your stomach is looking pretty distended. I can pull out of you, if you like.” I looked down to see what he was talking about and I actually had a belly. The skinny tummy I had for years bulged out a little like I was slightly pregnant. It was amazing to know that Liam’s cum was soaking into my insides as we spoke. It felt too great to have him pull out of me at that point. “No, please stay just where you are. It feels great having your meat plugging me so tightly. Our future anniversary celebrations will be focused on this moment so I want to live it as long as I can. I want to fully remember what your body felt like the first time I lay on top of it and the first time you plowed my ass. And this is for being the most gorgeous senior citizen ever.” I bent down and planted a wet quick kiss on his lips. This made Liam smile, even though I could tell he was still getting over his most recent surprise orgasm – especially since it came so soon after the earlier one. His huge chest was heaving under my hands and the motion made me realize I had been pinching and twisting his hard nubs for quite a while – obviously bringing the guy continued satisfaction. He looked at me with a face full of love. “And what do I get for being the most massive senior citizen ever?” “This.” I bent back down and this time I moved my hands to the side of his face and plastered my mouth on top of his, forcing my tongue in between his warm inviting lips. This time the kiss was hard and masculine. I could feel the muscular force emanating from his body even through his lips. His tongue easily wrestled mine into submission and he invaded my mouth with stronger suction and a thorough probing of my throat. My worn out cock immediately shot back to full mast – merely from a kiss that would have knocked my socks off if I had been wearing any. The sexual experience I had noted in this senior muscleman earlier was evident in his kissing skills, as well. He didn’t just peck a guy on the lips – no, he sucked face like some kind of muscular brute who wanted to dominate a guy into submission just from his oral abilities. It was like there was a direct inner pipeline from my mouth to my dick – and his superior talents with his mouth shot a message to my resting rod and ordered it to hard-on status like a sergeant barking orders to a plebe. My body was on fire with desire again in mere seconds and I was pumping my legs up and down so my ass would slide along his large hard piece of meat. I craved to make Liam come a third time. Pleasing this senior massive muscleman was clearly going to be my life’s goal from now on. And by the way his kiss instantly intensified and became even more powerful I figured I was doing a pretty good job. Liam pulled his face from mine for long enough to say a couple of sentences. “Aw hell, boy, are you trying to give me a heart attack? I’m not sure my cock can take a third orgasm in such a short time.” I pulled his face up off the pillow below it and forced him to kiss me again. I held his head aloft as he immediately returned to dominating me with his powerful lips and tongue. I increased the rhythm of my ass smacking into his crotch and muscled thigh – even as he started to thrust his cock deeper into my hole. The insane intensity of our fucking made it look like it was the first time we had ever made love – and not a repeat performance for me or the second encore for him. We merely turned each other on too much to force ourselves to stop. The kiss also spurred us on – our mouths were joined tightly to match the connection being made by his cock and my ass. And then there was all the muscle – now covered in big beads of sweat – tensed so hard that it made me almost cum from just feeling it beneath me. I could not hold out as long as Liam this time. His masterful plowing sent me over the edge after what was probably his twentieth thrust. It was my turn to pull my mouth from his, scream out loud in joyous ecstasy, and then blast a few wads of thick cum from my now-purple cock. The ejaculation forced my ass to tighten powerfully and that caused his balls to tighten and send yet another big load of his semen into my ass. By this point there was no more room in my chute and I could feel – even in the midst of my release – his juice seeping out my plugged hole. It did feel like I would pass out this time – and I do believe I lost consciousness briefly – but as soon as my cock was finished spewing I fell back down onto the hard body of the big man and his cock popped out of my hole loudly. The room stank of cum, the only sound was that of deep heavy gasps, and I could feel Liam’s powerful heart beating as hard and fast as mine. It was now kind of uncomfortable lying there on his tensed body – he was just so freaking hard. I used what little strength I had left to roll off of his huge torso and fall the surprisingly long distance to the bed below. I kept my body touching his – afraid that being completely separated would have been too abrupt for me to handle. I was now too intimately entwined with this huge senior mass of muscle. It was like I needed him to continue living. I spoke between gasps. “Fuck me, that was hot, Liam!” “I actually think you had me shooting blanks at the end of that last orgasm. Even a big man like me has limits, Makana. I feel like I just finished an intense four hour workout session.” “Hell, I feel like I just ran a marathon! I think tomorrow I’m going to walk like I did, anyway. You must have testosterone to spare to shoot so much juice, big man.” “Just being near you makes me churn the stuff out continuously. I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight.” “The same is true for me – but it’s mainly because I’ll be sleeping next to you.” “One night, if it’s okay with you Makana, I’d love to fall asleep with my cock inside of you. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but no one else ever allowed it.” “It sounds like heaven to me, Liam.” The big man had his huge arm underneath my head and he pulled my face into his chest by bending his arm and having his biceps bulging against me. It was his way of saying thank you. I had a feeling that we’d try sleeping with him in me the next night. We both knew we had a lifetime together – to try all the things that were swirling around in each of our heads – but we also knew there were a limitless amount of lustful dreams that we had yet to discover. I was already busy thinking of ways to worship my senior muscle gramps that would make his cock continue to gush like it did tonight. I also knew he was contemplating new ways to show off for me – and to worship himself in front of me. That idea, itself, made my cock begin to stir a little, even though it had shot off so much and so hard that it was going to take a couple of days to fully recover. It was just that being this close to so much muscle made me constantly horny. When Liam spoke next his voice was serious and I could tell he was slowly drifting towards sleep. “You know, of course, that I’m not going to let you go back to school this fall.” “I kind of figured. I can go to the local college. I’m not wanting to ever spend one night away from you.” “Will your parents be okay with that?” “With which – not going back to the university or sleeping every night for the rest of my life with you?” “I guess with both.” “Does it matter?” “No, not really. I just want to make sure this is what you want, Makana.” “Didn’t my ass just make that perfectly clear, Liam?” “Yes, but that was your ass talking, I want to hear it from your lips, as well.” “Listen, big man, this thing between us is some kind of force of nature. I don’t know if it’s because of your hugeness and power or because of our mutual desire for worshipping – but there’s no way either of us could deny this intense attraction. I’m pretty sure it’s even stronger than you, muscleman. I have a feeling you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not and I get the distinct feeling that even if I wanted to ignore you you’d force me into submission with just one hand.” “I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to, Makana.” “It was just a figure of speech, Liam, and you know it. Quit playing coy with me. You fucking love your muscles, I love your muscles, you love showing off and I love you showing off, so we must be a perfect match for each other. And you better watch out – talking this way is making me hard again. I may want another ride on that huge cock of yours very soon. Your senior muscles may have created a monster, Liam. You may actually end up sending me home before the morning.”

Part One: The Mysterious Signs Begin I couldn’t help it, but every time I looked at my five year old, Robby, I thought of his other dad. Dennis had lasted pretty long after Robby was born, well almost a year is sort of good. I just think he never really wanted to be a father, or, at least, he didn’t want to give up being involved in the Los Angeles gay party scene. Unfortunately, heavy partying and fatherhood do not go hand in hand. I had not even attempted to date in the last four years, because raising Robby had been so much fun and, let’s face it, a lot of work, as well. I was not complaining, though. I loved being a father and I adored everything about my son. One evening, before bedtime, we were busy building castles in the living room with all the cushions from the sofa, every pillow in the house, and a pile of blankets. Robby was having a blast and laughing up a storm. As I noticed him starting to get tired, I also watched his face turn somewhat serious. I could tell he had a question he wanted to ask, so I simply waited, wanting to allow my son to work through whatever was on his mind. “Daddy?” He asked as we started putting cushions back on the sofa. “Yes, Captain, my captain.” I replied using what was his favorite nickname that I had given him. “Will I ever have another dad?” came his question and it caught me off guard. I stammered a little as I tried to think of something to say. “I don’t know, Robby. Why? Do you want another dad?” I finally answered. “I just don’t want you to be alone,” he said staring at me with his big brown eyes. Out of the mouths of babes come some of the most profound statements, right? I fought back tears that threatened because of his honesty and his concern for me. “I’m, I’m not alone Robby. I have you.” I said turning to the task of folding the blankets so my face would not acknowledge how his statement impacted me. “It’s not the same, daddy, and you know it,” Robby said almost as if he were reprimanding me. “You need someone like the daddies in your newspapers.” “What newspapers?” I asked turning to him and my heart started to beat quickly. “The ones under your bed,” he replied innocently. I felt my face turn a deep shade of red. I had recently picked up a copy of Muscle and Fitness, Flex, and a couple other bodybuilding magazines for some quick “clean” beat off material. I had also slid it under my bed when I was finished, forgetting all about them. I wanted to kick myself for not hiding them somewhere else or, better yet, throwing them away. I had intended to actually read the articles, though. Yeah, right. “What were you doing under my bed, young man?” I asked jokingly, tickling his stomach in an attempt to keep the conversation as light as possible. I was desperate not to take my embarrassment out on my son. It wasn’t his fault that I found it easy to escape from reality for a few minutes by releasing a load to some picture of a muscle bound guy. I wanted to make sure he did not pick up that there might be something wrong about the magazines – which there wasn’t – at least that’s what I told myself. “Hide and seek! It took you forever to find me,” he exclaimed triumphantly. He had no concept that forever had really been about seven minutes. That thought calmed my nerves a little, that wasn’t enough time for him to explore the magazines too thoroughly. “You need to give one back, cause the pages are glued together,” he said matter-of-factly and I actually could feel my skin turning even redder. “Yeah, I’ll do that Robby. I guess there was a problem when they made that one. By the way, those aren’t newspapers. They’re magazines. You know, like your Disney magazine.” I was trying desperately to get him on some other subject. “Oh yeah. Magazine,” he replied. I could tell he was saying the word out loud so he could memorize what it was. My little captain hated getting things wrong. This was a trait he inherited from me. “I picked one out for you.” “What’s that?” I asked trying to act nonchalant. “I have my other dad for you,” came the explanation and I found myself somewhat interested and totally surprised. “Come here, little mister,” I said grabbing Robby and pulling him into my lap as I sat on the sofa. “You have another dad, remember? Dennis is your dad and I’m your daddy. You don’t need anyone else, right? You know that Dennis loves you very much, don’t you?” I looked at his happy little face and watched as he started to smile. “Yes. But I want someone to love you!” Robby was obviously very pleased with himself. “Well, you love me, don’t you?” I asked. “That’s not the same. You need a big man to love you,” he said quickly. “You are the only big man I need,” I said, again tickling him and becoming very happy as I listened to his high-pitched laughter. I finally stopped poking his stomach and he, again, looked at me very seriously. “No daddy, a real big man. Really, really big. I asked Charlie if he likes you and he said yes. I got him for you.” Robby truly wanted me to be happy and he thought this is what I needed. I decided it would be best to humor him. I was also a little curious about this Charlie. “Oh yeah? Charlie, you say? And where did you get this big man named Charlie?” I asked smiling at my son. “Cereal box!” he yelled, laughing. “The cereal box? I hope it was, at least, from the Fruit Loops box. Well, where is he, this Charlie? I’d like to meet him. I don’t see him anywhere. Is he hiding?” I carefully teased, not wanting to take the chance I might make Robby think I didn’t believe him. “You can’t see him yet, daddy. You don’t believe.” Robby said strongly. “Oh, I understand. So, it’s going to take some time. Well, I can wait. You let me know when he’s ready to meet me. By the way, what does Charlie look like?” I asked, glancing at my watch and noticing it was time to get ready for bed. “He’s bigger than you. He has black hair. He has lots of muscles. He eats a lot. He goes to the gym all the time. He doesn’t wear a shirt. He’s like Superman.” Robby ticked off all of Charlie’s attributes and I must admit that the guy did sound kind of yummy. “Well, you tell Charlie that it’s time for the Captain to go to bed. Time to brush our teeth,” I said scooping Robby into my arms and heading upstairs to his bathroom. “Charlie, we’re going to bed now. Come brush your teeth!” Robby yelled as I carried him from the den. Once inside the bathroom, we began our pre-bedtime ritual. We first washed our faces and then began to brush our teeth. I reached for our matching SpongeBob electric toothbrushes and was shocked a little when I saw that there was a third toothbrush in the cup holder. All three were similar. I clearly remembered only buying two. For a split second I was confused, but then I realized that maybe Dennis had brought one over when he visited . . . what was it, two months ago. I started to get angry at the thought of Dennis not taking any interest in Robby’s life unless I forced him to, but all those thoughts were interrupted. “Charlie likes SpongeBob, too!” Robby said, pointing to the extra toothbrush. “Well that is very convenient!” I said, still slightly confused. “What’s con –vee –neeiant?” asked Robby. I paused, this was not the time to try and fully explain. “It means that it’s very cool.” I answered and we began to brush our teeth. Once we had both peed - something that could take forever - we went into his room and I read him three of his favorite books. Robby usually wanted to continue reading more books and even complained when I said it was time for lights out, but tonight he simply said “okay” when I said it was time to sleep. I got the distinct feeling he wanted me out of the room. We quickly said what we were thankful for on that day and asked God to take care of everyone we knew. Again, Robby usually took the opportunity to list everyone he had ever met and then some, but tonight he used the generic “everyone,” then kissed me, and pulled the cover up to his chin. “Nighty-night, Captain,” I said as I turned out the light, made sure the night light was on, and then pulled the door almost fully closed – I always left enough space so I could easily look in and he could be protected by the extra light from the hall. “Night, daddy. Charlie says nighty-night, too. He says he likes you.” Robby replied, not looking at me, but staring directly at the rocking chair in the corner of his room. I glanced over and could have sworn that the chair was moving. I blinked a few times and then backed out of the room. “That’s wonderful, Robby. See you in the morning.” I answered. So Robby had his first imaginary friend. I definitely needed to talk to someone about what to do. Was it odd that his imaginary friend was someone for me? I think it was. I found myself getting really angry with Dennis, for some reason. I felt that if he were more present in Robby’s life (and mine) this would not have happened. I made a mental note to give Robby’s doctor a call tomorrow – and my therapist. Hopefully, one of them would be able to give me some advice. I had gone back downstairs and collected the blankets and extra pillows. I came back upstairs to replace them in the hallway closet when I heard talking coming from Robby’s room. I felt a deep fear as I suddenly realized there were two voices and one was obviously an adult. I put the blankets and pillows down on the hallway table quickly and pushed open Robby’s door. My heart was beating hard as I prepared to fight off the intruder. Robby turned to look at me as soon as the door opened. I glanced around the room and saw, immediately, that there was no one else there. “Who were you talking to Robby?” I asked and could hear the fear in my own voice. I hoped I was able to hide it from my son, though. “Charlie,” he replied. “But who’s voice did I hear?” I asked, trying hard not to freak out. Robby glanced over at the rocking chair. “Charlie’s” he replied again, staring at me blankly. “But were you making his voice? It sounded different from yours.” I said, stepping a little into the room and glancing around a second time. I was beginning to feel a little crazy. “No, daddy.” Robby was looking at me as if I had two heads. “Well, it’s time for bed. Tell Charlie that you have to go to sleep.” I said, grabbing the door again. “Yes, daddy. Time for bed, Charlie,” he said as I backed into the hallway. “Daddy?” “Yes, Robby,” I replied, sounding a little too frustrated. “Charlie says you have a nice butt.” Robby answered. I was dumbfounded and also wanted to laugh out loud. I could not believe this was coming out of my son’s mouth. Where had he learned this kind of talk? I was sure he got it from daycare. I was going to have to speak to Miss Emma about this. She was a great teacher and would know exactly what to do. “Well, that’s really nice. You thank Charlie for me. But, remember, we don’t use that word unless we’re in the bathroom. That’s bathroom talk, remember?” I said trying not to laugh. “Yes sir,” he said. “G’night.” “Nighty-night.” I replied and returned to the task of taking the blankets and pillows to the closet. I decided at that moment it was a “glass of wine” night. If I was hearing voices, I definitely needed something to help me sleep. Still, as I uncorked a pinot noir in the kitchen, I could not shake the fact that I had really thought I heard two voices. I grabbed the latest New Yorker and sat down on the sofa in the den. I started thinking about vacation spots. I obviously needed a break. It was then I remembered the magazines beneath my bed. I ran upstairs and hid them on a high shelf in my closet, not wanting to discard them just yet. I think there were a few more jerk-off sessions to be produced by those pictures. Who knows, maybe one of the guys was named Charlie. Part II: I See Big People The room was very cold. I could see my own breath every time I exhaled. I knew I was being watched even though I knew no one else was in the room. Someone sat there staring at me. I could feel that it wasn’t a person that wished me harm, but I was still unable to get a good look at their face or their body. It was also obvious that there was something special about the being that observed me. I felt like a human that’s been abducted by aliens and watched closely – as if under a microscope. The only difference was that the person staring at me didn’t cause me to worry or be frightened, no; they caused me to be shy and withdrawn. I could not put my hand on what the feeling was and then it struck me like a bolt of lightning. I felt unworthy. I felt inadequate in some way. But, in spite of these feelings and in spite of the coldness that filled the room, I was extremely turned on. I felt more alive that I had felt in a long time. Suddenly I was awake and conscious that I was lying on the sofa in the den downstairs with the New Yorker open across my chest. I had fallen asleep. The wine had obviously caused me to have some kind of bizarre dream. I lay there for a few minutes and let reality seep into my brain. I was suddenly overcome with the same feeling as in my dream – someone was sitting in the room staring at me. I sat up quickly and looked around. No one was there. What the hell was happening to me? If this was what it meant to lose your sanity, then I was determined to beat whatever was taking over. For Robby’s sake I would not allow my mind to disappear. “Don’t worry. I’m here.” The voice was clear as a bell. I immediately stood up and looked around the room again. My heart was racing and my adrenaline was kicking in wildly. I was not imagining anything. “Show yourself,” I said out loud. Silence surrounded me. I grabbed my head and squeezed tightly. Did I drink that much wine? I looked at my half full glass – knowing it was still my first one. I certainly could hold my liquor better than that. It must be something else, but what? I was still young. I was still fit. I could not be losing my mind. I was just too stressed out. I had been working too hard – on top of being a single dad. I made a decision at that exact moment. “I deserve a day off,” I said to no one, as if resolved to force myself to relax. “Yes, you do.” Again, the voice was very distinct and loud. This time it caused me to jump. I gasped out loud. My body was trembling by this point and I had begun to sweat. I quickly turned out lights and left the den. I moved to upstairs, glancing in on Robby as I passed his room. Seeing my son instantly calmed my uneasiness. He was sound asleep with his thumb in his mouth – a habit I had tried desperately to break, but even I couldn’t control him while he slept. I moved to the rocking chair, my favorite place to sit and watch my son. As soon as I sat down a feeling of deep warmth and some kind of mysterious power overcame my body. The sensation was so intense that it didn’t scare me, as a matter of fact; it caused me to get turned on immediately. My dick was suddenly hard and throbbing. In spite of the incredible feeling, I jumped up and turned to look at the chair. It moved slowly – obviously fueled by my sudden departure – but it also looked inviting and so unbelievably comfortable. I sat back down and let the warm, secure feeling surround me again. I swear the chair rocked without me pushing it. Slowly, I let my body succumb to the rhythm of the chair and I fell asleep. This time there were no dreams; there was only a feeling of deep peace. I slept more soundly than I had in years. I could feel that Robby was asleep in my lap before I even open my eyes. I let the heartbeat of my son reverberate in my body as we sat there, still rocking slowly where I rested in the chair. I could hear his heavy breathing caused by his deep sleep. I could only imagine Robby waking in the middle of the night and seeing me in the chair in his room – what had he thought? Usually, he came into my room in the middle of the night and joined me in my bed – a habit I knew I should not allow, but I secretly loved it. My son loved the security of his dad – a feeling I somehow connected with on some deep level. It was the exact feeling that presently surrounded us, somehow, in the chair. At first, knowledge of this feeling made me nervous, but in my half-asleep daze I allowed myself to simply rest in that awareness of total peace. Robby’s breathing caused me to fall in and out of sleep for another thirty minutes. Finally, my son began to stir and I knew we would both be up and about very soon. “Morning, Captain,” I said when he looked up at me. “Why did you sleep in my room?” he asked, not even taking time to say good morning. “I fell asleep watching you,” I replied. “You both did,” he said smiling. “Both? Who? Charlie?” I asked. “Yep. He sat right here with you.” Robby answered as he climbed out of my lap. “I’m hungry.” “You’re always hungry,” I said teasingly. I stood up and he grabbed my hand, starting to pull me towards the door. Once he was interested in food there was no changing his mind at all. I let the comment about Charlie go at the present moment. I knew it was time to get some food in my child. While Robby ate some cereal and watched cartoons, I called my office and left a message for my secretary saying that I would be taking the day off. I knew I had an empty schedule and nothing too pressing to deal with. I could envision Margaret smiling as she listened to my voicemail. She had been begging me to take a day off for a while. She was extremely efficient and very protective of both Robby and me. She would certainly cover for me if anyone needed anything. I made a mental note to bring her favorite lemon pastry the next morning as a little thank you. Robby shouted for joy and threw his hands in the air when I told him that I had a surprise for him. He said he hoped it was a pony, but he seemed genuinely happier when I said I was taking the day off and he wouldn’t have to go to Miss Emma’s place. I asked him what he wanted to do, but I knew the answer before he spoke. “I want to go to the park!” he exclaimed. Robby always wanted to go to this big park in the middle of our city. There were multiple playgrounds, a few open fields for kite flying, a pond that had powered boats he could steer, and much more. I glanced outside and saw that it was going to be a beautiful day. I knew time at the park would be fantastic for both of us. “The park it is, then. How about a picnic, some kite-flying, and, of course, much time at the playground.” I replied. “Two playgrounds,” Robby insisted as he laughed. “We’ll see you greedy little mister,” I said reaching over to mess up his hair. “Charlie’s happy, too,” Robby said looking across the table at the empty chair in front of him. I smiled and nodded my head. “He also says don’t shave.” “What?” I asked glancing back to my son after having turned to look at the headlines of the paper on the table. “Charlie likes your scruffy look,” he answered, looking back at the cartoons on the television. I knew the reason Robby was telling me this was because he thought shaving would delay our departure, but it still sounded nice – having a boyfriend that liked me even with my morning hair and morning stubble. Dennis had always been concerned with how I looked – at all times and he didn’t hesitate to critique. “Well, I’m beginning to like this Charlie more and more,” I said taking our bowls to the sink. “Why don’t you go brush your teeth and change clothes. I’ll put a few things in the picnic basket and then take a quick shower.” “Yippee!” My enthusiastic son screamed as he jumped down from the chair and ran from the room, adding, “Charlie says to make sure to bring some vegeetubles cause they make him stronger!” This comment caught me off guard. Robby did not like any vegetables. I could not believe he wanted me to include them for our picnic. I guessed it was something he had noticed in the magazines that had been under my bed. Maybe there had been an ad where some big guy was eating something green. I made a mental note to use Charlie’s words the next time I was trying to get my son to eat carrots or broccoli. I still loved the fact that Robby could not clearly say some words – like vegetables – it seemed to keep him the little boy I wanted him to remain. I grabbed a pack of carrots and some raw celery with the hope that Robby might choose this over crackers. I knew, deep down, there was a fat chance of that, though. I finished packing our picnic basket, pulled a blanket and the kite from a closet, and then went to take a quick shower. As I passed by Robby’s room I heard him talking, so I stood out of sight to listen for a while. “He’s gonna like you. Cause you’re big and really strong. I promise. You can help…” Robby stepped into his closet and I missed a little of what he said next. I moved closer to the edge of the door and heard him struggling to put on a shirt. “Yeah, you should do that.” I could hear that he had moved back into the room, so I stepped a few feet back down the hall. “I’ll come in to tie your shoes in a sec, buddy,” I cried out, acting as if I was just coming upstairs. “I’m just going to take a quick shower.” “Charlie tied ‘em,” he yelled back. I laughed at that thought and knew that my son had tried to tie his tennis shoes by himself again. Last time they had ended up a big jumble of knots. I knew it would take me a few minutes to straighten them out. I stepped into his room and saw him standing in the center. He was dressed smartly in a pullover yellow polo shirt and a pair of blue-red plaid shorts. I glanced down at his feet – not only were his shoes on the right feet, but they were also tied in perfect bows. My mouth dropped open and I simply stared at this Stepford child in front of me. I looked at his smiling face and noticed that even his hair was combed. “Who are you? And how did you tie those shoes?” I asked amazed. “I didn’t tie them. Charlie did. And I’m Robby,” he said walking past me into the hallway, headed downstairs. I knew he wanted to watch more cartoons – at least until the moment it was time to leave. “Please hurry and take your shower. Charlie’s ready to go.” I quickly stepped into the hall. I was so surprised by everything that had just happened that my good parenting skills had gone away. I called out to him before he started down the stairs. “Robby. I didn’t know you knew how to tie your shoes. That’s great. And you look really good.” I was still shocked by my little man. “I told you - Charlie tied my shoes,” he said looking at me like I was deaf. “Hey, Robby, you know that I can’t see Charlie, right?” I said this before I could filter my thoughts. I can’t explain the feelings that were twirling around my head – jealousy of his imaginary friend, bewilderment at my son’s new skills, and surprise that he hadn’t told me what he could do. “Not yet, dad, not yet,” he said simply and turned, jumping down the stairs two at a time. My quick shower gave me time to sort through the confusion caused by my son’s imaginary friend. I knew, instinctively, that it was totally acceptable and healthy for kids to have someone that they could share intimate secrets with – even if that person wasn’t real. I also realized it was difficult on my son to only have one parent. Again, I felt unresolved anger at Dennis rear its ugly head in my heart. I needed to allow Robby to develop his friendship with “Charlie” without any feelings of guilt or shame. I was happy that I retained a little knowledge from my adolescent pysch class in college. I struggled; however, to understand Robby’s need to make Charlie some big guy that might make me happy. Was it possible that I projected my lust for bodybuilders to my son without even knowing it? Sure, some of my friends – who were also his friends – were well built, but they were not love interests. I began to worry that Robby had noticed I tended to stare at big guys when we were out in public. There were a few other dads at his daycare that were huge and maybe he could sense how I changed when I was around them. I made a mental note that from now on I would not let some guy’s big muscles capture my attention so easily. Oh, who was I kidding? That was not possible. I also felt like it wasn’t unhealthy for my son to know the type of man I was attracted to – mainly because I was sure he didn’t fully get what it meant when adults were in relationships. By the time I joined Robby downstairs I had decided that I would treat Charlie as a member of the family – mainly because the idea of some big muscular guy looking out for my son somehow made me very happy. I was sure I also hoped Charlie was looking out for me, as well. The park was only slightly empty for such a beautiful work day. Robby wanted to go to his favorite playground first and we both knew we’d be there for a while. I knew my son’s routine as well as he did. We would begin with a quick trip down the slide, a quick bounce on the see-saw balanced on a giant spring in the ground, and then head toward the imitation tire-swing in the center of many other different swing sets - off to one side of the playground. My son followed the pattern perfectly, but we were both disappointed to find that the metal structure that held up the tire-swing had been partially pulled from the cement blocks that held it. Two of the four poles were slightly in the air and bent. I imagined a group of older kids piling as many people as possible on the tire and their weight causing the poles of the structure to be ripped from where it rested. I anticipated my son to be very sad that he couldn’t play on his favorite piece of equipment. “Sorry, Captain. It looks like the swing is out of order. I think someone broke it,” I said glancing down at my boy. “That’s okay.” Robby replied, as he looked up at me, “Charlie will fix it. Let’s go to the jungle gym.” With that, he tore out across the big sand pit to the climbing structure across the play area. I’m sure my mouth was wide open from the shock of his response. I laughed a little at how easily he had recovered from this setback and started out after him. I glanced around and saw other adults helping their kids swing, climb, and explore parts of the play area. I, of course, scouted out the eight to ten dads that were there, checking to see if they met my definition of “yummy.” As usual, almost all of them appeared to be not only devastatingly handsome, but undeniably straight, as well. I immediately reminded myself of my decision to not be caught by my son staring at other men. I turned back to Robby and saw that he was already halfway up the dome-like metal structure that seemed like a perfect place for some young kid to have an accident. I seemed to remember a movie where Dustin Hoffman watches his son fall from a similar formation and he has to carry him to the nearby hospital. This thought made me sprint quickly to where Robby was climbing. “Not too high, Robby. You’re going to make me nervous,” I said, trying not to actually let on how scared I really was. “To the top, dad!” He exclaimed as he looked back towards me. “Only if I can come, too,” I replied. I then climbed next to him and we traveled together to the top. Robby sat at the apex of the structure and looked out over the playground, as if he was surveying his kingdom. I sort of leaned on the structure, bending my body to the curve of the metal bars. “Charlie fixed the swing,” Robby said after a couple of minutes and he began to climb down. My need to have my hand at his back, as he turned around to make his descent, made me ignore his comment. Why was it that the trip down from the structure seemed so much more dangerous than the trip up? When he was about a foot from the ground Robby turned to me, saying, “I can do it dad.” My son was emphasizing a point that would probably take me a lifetime to learn. There would always come moments when Robby would need me to let go and let him do something by himself. I moved my hand from his back and watched as he jumped from his spot to the soft sand below. He then began to run in the direction of the swing sets. I jumped down, as well, and hurried after him. I was sure he was going to be sad that he couldn’t go on the tire swing, but I knew we’d find other stuff to do. “Robby, wait for me,” I called after him. I did not want him to get on the swing with it not being secure. My son listened to me and stopped – standing next to the metal bars that held up the swing. He turned to look at me, as I got closer. As I reached his side my mouth fell open for the second time since we had arrived at the park. I glanced down and saw that the poles of the swing were now secure in the cement blocks below. I bent down to look closer. It didn’t seem to be a great job, but the poles were buried deep in the blocks. As a matter of fact it looked as if the poles had somehow been thrust into the concrete so hard that the force of the blow had actually created the holes – and not some drill or other machine. There were a few cracks around the new holes and I saw a few chips of concrete scattered on the ground. I took a quick look around the place to see if I could see park rangers or workmen – anyone that might have done the job. I wanted to make sure it was safe. There were only parents and their children scattered around the area. I looked back at the poles in the ground, reaching out to grab one and shake it. The thing didn’t budge. It was certainly buried in the concrete tightly and could have easily held up a group of adults swinging on the tire. My eyes turned to look where my hand gripped the pole because I felt something strange – as if the pole had been dented somehow. I moved my hand and could have sworn I saw indentions that resembled fingers. I looked across to the other pole and saw the same kind of markings – just slightly lower than this side. I blinked a few times and tried to picture the tool that had been used to grab these things hard enough to slam them into the concrete. It didn’t really matter, though, because Robby had already climbed on the tire and was begging me to push him. I turned to my son and obliged. For the next fifteen minutes his favorite word became “again.” I would send the tire spinning around and then push it back and forth, like it was a ride at an amusement park. Robby didn’t care how fast it spun or how hard I pushed him – he just wanted me to do it over and over. I was beginning to get a little dizzy just watching him. Finally, he announced it was time for some kite flying. I stopped the swing, he jumped down, and we both turned to head towards the car. I suddenly remembered the indentions on the poles and glanced at them one last time before we walked away. I still could not believe I had failed to notice the workmen as they fixed the swing set – or the machine they used. We got in the car and drove to the open field where people either flew kites or had a picnic. We planned on doing both, along with taking our required afternoon nap. Before we flew the kite I insisted that we both put on a little sunscreen. Robby hated this and only allowed me to apply it to his face, neck, and arms after I promised to reward him with an Oreo cookie. I rewarded myself with one, as well. I was impressed that Robby stayed interested in flying the kite for almost forty-five minutes. Usually he was done with it after it fell to the ground the first time. Once we had spread out the blanket, I pulled out the food for lunch. To my utter amazement, Robby grabbed a couple of carrots first and started chomping on them. I could tell he loved the noise they made. As if to shock me even more, he then took a celery stalk and did the same with it. He noticed I was looking at him strangely. “What?” he asked with a mouth full of celery. “Who are you and what have you done with my Captain Robby? Since when did you eat vegetables?” I asked, forcing myself to not mispronounce the word like Robby did – even though I loved how it sounded. I needed to reinforce the correct pronunciation. “Charlie says they’ll make me big like him,” Robby replied after grabbing another carrot. “Charlie sounds really smart,” I said. “And strong.” Robby added. “Yeah?” I asked and then said, “Even stronger than your old man here?” I lifted my arms in what I knew was a double biceps pose, but Robby probably thought it was just plain stupid looking. “His arms are way bigger,” my son said, deflating my bravado. “He fixed the tire swing, didn’t he? Can I have my ‘nut and jelly sandwich?” Ever since he was two years old, this was what he called his favorite sandwich. I handed him half of one with the crust cut off, just as he liked it. His comment about my arms being small hurt my ego a little and I didn’t think about what I was saying before it came out. “It sounds like you like Charlie more than me,” I muttered, sounding sad. “Naw, I just have to make sure he’s good ‘nuff for you,” Robby replied as I reached over to wipe grape jelly from his cheek. His answer filled my heart with joy. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, young man,” I said, reminding him of something we were working on, but also to cover up how his remark made me happy. He quickly swallowed. “Yes sir,” he said smiling. I could tell he was trying hard to remember all the new rules that came with getting older. My little man wanted to make his dad proud. He also seemed intent on finding me a mate – and one that I approved of. A little later we were lying on the blanket with our heads together looking up at the sky. We were pointing to clouds and naming what they looked like. I was amazed at how Robby saw creative things in the different formations. I wondered if he would be some kind of artist when he grew older. “Hey dad?” he said, making sure I knew it was a question. “Yes, Captain,” I replied. “Ya know how I can see big Charlie and you can’t,” he added tentatively. “Uh huh,” I said, wondering where this was headed. I knew I needed to tread lightly so he would feel no judgment in my comments. “It’s ‘cause I want him. You gotta want him too. You gotta want him a lot. Okay?” came the quick reply from my son. “Okay, Captain,” I said after a short pause. His words had cut into my deepest self. I knew exactly what he meant. My young son’s intuition told him that I didn’t really trust other men anymore. My five year old was worried that his dad’s heart could not bear any more pain caused by people who disappointed him. A tear formed at the corner of my eye and made its way down the side of my face. Something opened inside of me at that moment – and I made a promise that, for my son’s sake, I would begin the long journey back to the living. I would not hide behind my work and my duties as a father anymore. I would try to open myself to love again. As these thoughts passed through my mind two things happened, my son’s breathing became hard, signifying he had fallen asleep, and a cloud passed overhead that resembled a man’s big flexed arm perfectly. Part Three: Touching Is Believing Later that night, there was no argument from Robby when I said it was time for bed. I could tell he was worn out from our day at the park. He asked me to read only one story before lights out and then, when it came time to ask God to look after people we loved, Robby only mentioned Charlie and me. I gave him a kiss, went to the door, and turned out the light. “Dad,” Robby called out before I left the room. “Yes, Captain,” I answered. “Charlie’s going to sleep with you tonight,” he said. I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell, by his voice, that he was smiling. He almost sounded like he had some kind of secret he was keeping from me. I forced that thought out of my head – I was projecting again. “Okay. You sure you don’t need him in here with you?” I asked, concerned about taking his imaginary friend away from him, which sounded so silly when I thought about it. “Naw, he wants to be with you,” Robby said with a slight giggle. “He also says to bring the newspapers, I mean magazines.” Robby corrected himself. My face flushed red and I reached up to turn the light on. I saw that he was looking right at me and was smiling. I found his stare slightly surprising. I knew he did not mean it the way it sounded, but part of me wondered if my five year old didn’t understand, on some level, what the pictures in the magazines did for me. “Night, dad,” he said, turning on his side and shutting his eyes. “Nighty-night, Captain,” I replied, switching off the light again. I went back downstairs and was a little dumbfounded by my son’s comment about the magazines. I found myself a little tired, so I grabbed a glass of wine, turned out lights, and went back upstairs to go to bed. I changed into my favorite Yankees t-shirt and some boxers, preparing myself for a few chapters of the new David Sedaris book that sat on my bedside table. After a few pages and many sips of wine, my mind started drifting from the book I was reading to the magazines hidden under a box on the top shelf in my walk-in closet. I forced my thoughts to return to the book, but only finished two sentences before I took a big sip of wine, returned the book to the table, and got out of bed - headed for the closet. I returned to bed with a bundle of magazines in my hand. I sipped more wine as I lifted each magazine to glance at the cover, deciding that I would use the one with the biggest guy on the cover as my jerk-off material for the night. I settled on FLEX magazine, because on the cover it had a picture of a huge guy curling a barbell loaded with so many weights that his arms bulged out to insane proportions. The words that were printed across the bottom of the picture also made me choose this particular magazine. It read “Create Guns Full of Power!” There was something about a guy’s arms, and the idea of calling them guns, that really got my juices churning. My heart also leapt for joy when I found that the magazine’s center spread was completely about this guy’s arms. There were pictures of him in tight shirts, one of him in a business suit, and many of his naked upper body. The guy really did have huge “guns.” I stared at the pictures as I finished my wine. I was careful not to look at the text underneath the pictures, because I did not want to learn the guy’s name. Tonight, the man with the giant arms was going to be called “Charlie”. By the time I dropped the magazine on the floor, with the others, and turned out the lamp on the bedside table, my hand was already pumping my hardened cock. The slight buzz from the wine only increased my desire for a prolonged build up to ejaculation. I wanted to focus on Charlie’s arms for a while. I closed my eyes and pictured those monstrous arms connected to a big guy kneeling on the bed above me. “Come and get it, Charlie,” I moaned out loud as I stroked by hard shaft. I distinctly felt the sudden sensation of a heavy, muscled body lying on top of mine. I found it hard to breathe, but the feeling was so incredible that I didn’t care. My hand left my rod and fell onto the bed at my side. I thrust my chin into the air as my head pushed back into the pillow and my neck received what felt like two lips kissing and sucking. I was amazed at how real my fantasy sex session felt. “Aw yeah, Charlie, your huge body feels nice,” I whispered, getting into the foreplay fully. “Squeeze me with those big guns.” My arms suddenly seemed forced tightly into my sides, or it could have just been in my mind. I didn’t care. My imagination helped me to be held by hard, muscled arms and my body felt like it was on fire. The weight at my crotch got heavier and I began to focus on what seemed to be happening down there. My hard-as-a-board dick was being smashed by a larger piece of meat and “Charlie” was obviously rocking his own crotch back and forth. I could not ever remember having such a vivid masturbation session. I kept my eyes tightly shut because I did not want this dream to end. Just when I thought my cock could not stand any more of the rocking motion from the large prick rubbing against it, I felt the weight lessen on my upper body and crotch, but not my legs. It was obvious that my “Charlie” had hoisted his huge self onto those two pillar-like arms. I imagined reaching up and grabbing hold of the two meaty pecs that were bulging above me. It seemed so real to me. The feeling of hard layers of muscle, too huge to fully grab, made my body shake with pleasure. “Charlie” flexed his chest and my fingers were pushed out flat, preventing me from grabbing any of his flesh. I simply rubbed my open hands all over his broad upper body, finding his two hard nubs of steel and pinching them roughly. The room, or was it just in my mind, was filled with a deep moan that sounded like the rumble of thunder. My hands then moved up and across stone-like wide shoulders, caressing every striation and bulge. I then let them drop to what I had focused on in the first place – Charlie’s gargantuan arms. The sensation was so powerful that I thought I would lose my load immediately, but I was able to calm my cock and not discharge just from touching vein-covered, marble-like guns that felt bigger than my thighs. I let my fingers trace the hard-corded veins that snaked around his arms. I was immediately reminded of wide trees covered with thick vines and filled with centuries worth of power. How I wished that these kinds of arms would some day scoop me up and carry me into a bedroom and fill me with the same kind of pleasure I was now creating on my own. “Let me feel your meat inside me, Charlie. Please,” I begged to my imaginary lover. Immediately, I sensed my legs being pushed apart. There was now no weight on top of me anywhere. I felt the strong arms pull away from my hands. I let out a light whimper, but then brought my hands to my own chest. I found my own hardened nipples and began to squeeze them mercilessly. Huge hands gripped around my calves and seemed to lift my legs in the air. The sound of ripping cloth caught me off guard and I couldn’t believe my imagination would let nice boxers be torn from my body. I immediately returned to the manhandling that was happening to my body, restoring it to the intense pleasure that had just been interrupted. The big hands moved down to my thighs, grabbed me tightly, and then lifted higher. My ass was in the air and the strong arms holding my legs spread them apart. My erect cock was pressing against my folded mid section and the tip was poking me underneath my chest. I continued to pinch my hard nipples. In the midst of all that was happening I became conscious of a firm wet tongue running up and down the inside of my ass crack. “Charlie” pressed the fat tip into my tight hole, intending to use his own saliva as lube for his stiff pole. I cried out in joy each time I imagined his tongue slipping further into my loosening ass opening. “Yes. Yes. That’s so nice, big guy.” I was getting into this fantasy so much that, for a split second, I thought I might never need a partner again. I forced my mind to return to the preparation that my ass was receiving. The sensation of a strong wet tongue disappeared, but was suddenly replaced by something larger and much harder. “Charlie” let the tip of his hard cock slide up and down across my open asshole. This caused my sphincter to contract and release each time. I could also feel loads of pre-cum slathering my ass while I began to moan in anticipation. I held my breath as I felt the wide head of his cock push slowly into my now clamped-shut cavity. His steel-like dickhead pressed the sides of my hole apart and I inhaled sharply three times while his thick pole traveled further into me. Suddenly, the mushroom top made it beyond the tight outer-walls of my asshole and the big man paused so I could relish the feeling of something so large inside of me. The muscle man also wanted to give me a chance to breathe and, hopefully, relax before he began to shove his full manhood down my chute. When the slow plowing resumed, my body was ready for it. Each time I thought he was certainly all the way in, I was amazed to find out that there was still more of his cock to slide into me. I began to worry that some of my internal organs were going to have to shift to allow him in fully, but the feeling was so incredible I didn’t care. Finally, I felt my lower back, right above my ass crack, meet his bulging quads and he pressed in a little harder just to give us both more pleasure. I was able to start breathing a little easier and relaxed some, since I knew he had fit his entire hard cock inside me. “Charlie” began to masterfully slide his giant rod in and out of my ass. He was slow and powerful. The room was again filled with heavy grunting that sounded like a bull was preparing to charge. I was again surprised by the creativity of my own jerk-off fantasy. The motion of the huge rod in my ass became faster as I felt my legs now supported on the two wide shoulders I pictured in my mind. The strong hands I had felt earlier moved to my chest, brushing my hands to the side, and they began to squeeze my pecs together roughly. Drops of sweat started to hit my face, neck, and arms – and I congratulated myself on that nice touch. The feeling of strong hands squeezing my pecs and pinching my nipples, the rocking of the bed and my body each time the huge piece of meat was thrust into my ass, and the intense moans filling the room were too much for my slightly buzzed, intensely turned-on body. “Oh, fuck, Charlie. I’m going to cum!” I said a little to loudly. As my cock erupted and my body convulsed – sending streaks of my hot semen all over my chest – I actually worried about waking Robby. I was able to slightly muffle the cries that followed as I pumped more jism out of my throbbing dick. At the same time I felt warm fluids seemingly being released into my ass – and it felt like a bucket full. The thick rod crammed inside me twitched uncontrollably, pounding into the sides and back of my chute – making me spew even more. My body finally stopped jerking and my heart rate started to subside. I could feel the massive, still-hard piece of meat being pulled from my ass. I gasped a little when the tip popped from my hole. My legs were lowered back to the bed and I felt the heavy muscled body of my dream-lover come gently back down on me. The weight of “Charlie” helped to quiet my breathing and continue the slowing of my heart. I was fully aware that my exhausted mind and body were falling asleep, and that there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening. Right before I slipped into dreamland, however, I knew there was something I wanted to do. I gathered all of my remaining strength to accomplish the task. “I really want to know you, Charlie . . . I really want to know you,” I whispered to the emptiness of the room. Darkness and rest came as soon as the words evaporated into the air. I heard him whispering before anything else registered in my body. I knew Robby was in bed with me, probably with his face very near mine - and he was either repeating dialogue from a cartoon or quoting something he had learned at Miss Emma’s daycare center. After I became aware that he was in the bed with me, I suddenly noticed a few other things – mainly that my ass ached. It ached a lot. The thrill of last night’s beat-off session came flashing back into my head. I could not believe that my ass hurt this much. I was sure it was because it had remained so tense during my excursion into fantasy sex-land. I moved a little and was shocked because I sensed pain in my ass that was not related to being too tense. It had been many years since I had been plowed by a man’s cock, but not so many that I didn’t remember the “morning after” soreness. I chalked it up to the fantastic job I did at imagining “Charlie” inside of me. That’s when I also registered that my body was sore in many other places – my sides, my chest, and my legs. All of this soreness was definitely something I remembered joyously as the post-awesome-sex screaming of my limbs, but I was just amazed that I could cause it all by myself. Well, it wasn’t exactly all by myself – it was with “Charlie,” well the picture of my fantasy Charlie. Just thinking about that magazine picture made my body shiver again. Oh shit, I thought, the magazines are beside the bed. I forced myself to not jump up and grab them. That would certainly make Robby think they were something bad. I started to think of a way to get him out of the room quickly, but I realized it was useless - he usually loved to lie in bed for a few minutes to have a morning chat. He would see through any attempt to move us along too quickly. His whispering caused me to refocus on what was happening in the room. “Yeah, I’ll tell him, Charlie . . . Yeah, me, too,” said Robby softly. “What numbers are on the clock, Robby?” I asked, interrupting his one-person conversation. I felt his little body lift off of the bed and lean across my chest and stomach to look at the digital alarm clock on the table beside me. He obviously stared for a while and I could tell he was making sure he read them correctly and in the right order. We had been working on what it means to start on the left side when reading. “Six, two, four,” he said proudly. I was very happy because that meant we had lots of time before we had to start getting ready to leave. “Good job, Captain,” I replied. “What’s this stuff all over your shirt?” he asked poking at my chest. My eyes flew open. He didn’t notice because he was looking down. I raised my head off the pillow and saw dried cum streaks up and down the front of my shirt. My mind started racing, attempting to think of something to say. How to explain this to a five year old, that was the problem. I always wanted to be as honest with my son as possible, but I knew this was not the right time to explain ejaculation. “I think it’s paint,” I said and closed my eyes again, feeling guilty about the lie already. I dropped my head back on the pillow and attempted to push my embarrassment away. “It’s ugly. What were you painting?” Robby asked innocently. I felt my stomach tighten as I began to formulate my next lie. “Nothing, I think it’s been on there for a while. You know – old paint,” I said, squeezing my eyes tighter, as if that would make the conversation go away. “Why is there paint on your neck?” Robby persisted. My hand flew up to my neck and I felt globs of dried semen there. I rubbed it off with my palm and it actually hurt a little when it peeled away from my skin. I needed to end this conversation quickly and I knew just the way. “I guess it came off my shirt, but that’s not what worries me right now. You know what worries me, Captain?” I said looking at my son and smiling. I knew Robby completely understood where I was taking the conversation, but he acted like he didn’t. This had been part of our morning routine for years. “What, daddy?” he asked in a high-pitched voice because he was already dreading my answer. “I’m worried about the ticklers!” I yelled as I raised my hands and held them up like claws. Robby screamed loudly and then scrambled off of my body. He quickly covered his little frame under the blanket and yelled “no.” I sat up and grabbed him through the blanked at his waist and tickled him lightly. My son erupted into screams of laughter mixed with “no, daddy” and “stop it,” but I knew he didn’t mean it. He loved it when the ticklers attacked in the morning. There had been a few mornings where I actually got out of bed without tickling him and he sulked until I came back and pulled out the ticklers. I continued to tickle him, even sliding my hands under the covers until I found his shirt, lifted it up, and tickled his bare skin. This caused him to scream and squirm more. I finished by pulling the blanket off of his body and bringing my mouth to his bare stomach, giving him a loud, wet raspberry. This was definitely his favorite part and his arms and legs flailed around uncontrollably. I stopped with a big kiss and then sat up. He quickly sat up at the same time. It was then, and only then, that I realized I wasn’t wearing any underwear. We both looked at my crotch, my flaccid cock nestled between my legs. I was flabbergasted. It’s not that Robby had never seen me nude, I made sure we talked logically about our bodies and with no shame, but I always had boxers or shorts on when he came to my bed. I, again, searched for a way to make this not awkward or seem in any way shameful. “Where are my boxers?” I said raising my hands in a humorous ‘what’s going on’ pose. “There on the floor,” Robby said, laughing, and then added, “all ripped up!” His words made me spin around quickly and look to the side of the bed. There, in the middle of the magazines, were my plaid boxers – torn into three pieces. I stared at the floor in disbelief. I couldn’t think of what to do or what to say. I reached down, absent-mindedly, and pulled the covers over the lower part of my body. I continued to look at the underwear. There was no possible way. The only logical explanation was that I had torn them off of my body during my little sex-capade last night. I turned back toward my son, but didn’t say a word. He was just staring at me, silently. Suddenly, a big smile crept across his face. “Charlie said he had a good time sleeping with you,” Robby blurted out, as if he had been keeping a secret. He finished the sentence with a big laugh. I’m sure the laugh was innocent, but I didn’t know what he meant by it. His comment made me forget everything and become his dad again. I was a tad confused by his remark and I wanted to make sure he was clear about what he meant. “What do you mean, Robby?” I asked, a little too seriously, because my son immediately stopped laughing and looked at me with a sullen face. “He just said he had a good time and he told me to say you were very good,” he explained. My mouth fell open and my eyes must have gone very wide. I was so incredibly confused by everything at that moment – what my son was saying, how my underwear got shredded, and how this imaginary friend was causing so much trouble. I made myself smile, even in the midst of the confusion, to help my son not feel like he was in trouble. “Did Charlie mean you were a good boy, daddy? Like when Miss Emma tells you I was good?” Robby asked, looking at me as if he was hoping he got an answer right. “Yes! Yes, that’s it Robby. That’s exactly what Charlie meant. I was a good boy. I behaved very well. I said yes sir and no sir and did what I was asked,” I said laying my hand on my son’s head. All of the sudden his comments made sense. His imaginary friend had given him a good report about his dad. My mind was suddenly at ease. There was nothing naughty behind what my son was saying. He was affirming me. I messed up his hair and then pushed him back on the bed. He laughed again and everything between us was back in perfect balance. “I’m hungry!” he exclaimed from his prone position on the mattress. Yes! This was the out that I needed – to clean up the mess I had obviously made last night. I grabbed his legs and pulled him to me. “You’re always hungry! I have an idea, Captain. How about you go downstairs and pull out the cereal box. I’ll be right there. How’s that?” I asked. “Okay,” he replied squirming out of my grasp and quickly sliding off the bed. “Did you already pee, Robby?” I asked, knowing he probably was still holding liquids in his body – even through all the tickling, which completely astounded me. “Yes, sir,” he yelled as he ran from the room. “You better be telling me the truth, mister,” I yelled back as I quickly got out of bed, grabbed all of the magazines – making sure to steal a quick glance at my fantasy “Charlie” – and then headed to hide them in the closet. After stashing the magazines, I grabbed the three pieces of my torn boxers and took them to the trash. I noticed they were three clean rips – and I knew I must have pulled very hard to make it tear that way. I was kind of proud of my work. I grabbed a pair of shorts from the dresser, slipped them on, and headed downstairs – stopping to pee myself and noticing that Robby had told the truth about going this morning. He, of course, had forgotten to flush, though. We ate breakfast like we always did, Robby watching thirty minutes of his hour-a-day worth of cartoons and me reading most of the paper. The rule was that when we got home I could not return to the paper – I had to spend quality time with my son. He could only watch thirty more minutes of cartoons. He didn’t know I usually read more of the paper after he went to sleep, but the main thing was that I didn’t do it when we could spend time playing. I was amazed at how easily he got ready to go to Miss Emma’s this morning – usually it was an uphill battle to get him dressed and out the door. I decided it was because he had missed her and his friends, because of our free day at the park. He loved Miss Emma, even calling her one of his favorite angels. I always thought that was such a neat idea – that I dropped my son off with an angel each day. No matter what, I was just very happy that he enjoyed going to day care. It made my life so much easier. We were finally in the car and pulling out of the garage even a little earlier than usual, which wasn’t hard to do since we always ran late. It seemed that Robby was always looking for the one thing he couldn’t live without that day, and usually only that item had be misplaced. Today, however, his things were placed neatly on the table beside the door to the garage and I was very impressed. When I asked what had gotten into him and why he had organized everything before leaving, he told me Charlie had put the stuff there. In my head I thanked Charlie greatly for what he had been able to accomplish in my son in just a few days. I had not succeeded as much in five years! Pulling out of the garage was always a difficult task. There was a stupid tree right at the edge of the turn-around space that had been created at the edge of the middle of the driveway. You could back out straight into the street, but curves in the road made it very dangerous. I always liked to be the first one in the car to move out into the road, hoping my son would be safe if, heaven forbid, there was an accident. I wasn’t paying close attention this morning, probably because I was so surprised we were leaving early, and my bumper lightly scraped the trunk of the tree and then wedged into it. “Crap,” I said, having given up on swearing once Robby was at an age where he thought it was fun to repeat things. My son laughed at me from the back seat. This made me a little frustrated, but I wouldn’t let it cause me to take it out on him. I looked in the rearview mirror and made a crazy face, asking, “What’s so funny, Captain?” “Charlie says you’re a crazy driver,” Robby said laughing again. “Oh yeah? Well, you tell your friend Charlie that I’d like to see if he could do better job. That stupid tree is always in the way. As a matter of fact, why don’t you tell your big friend, Charlie, to get rid of that tree for me.” I said all of this as light as possible, as I tried to figure out how to pull forward without the side of the bumper scraping the same way it had as I backed up. “Wait, dad. Charlie’s gonna help,” Robby said as he played with some action figure in his hands. He wasn’t even looking at me. Suddenly the back of the car went up and then bounced back down on the ground. It wasn’t very dramatic, but it was noticeable. I immediately put the car in park. I had not taken my foot off the brake. What had made the car move? I could not believe there might be a problem with my brand new hybrid SUV. I pulled on the parking break, undid my seatbelt, and opened my door. “I don’t know what just happened, Robby, but I’m going to go take a look. I’ll be right back. Sit tight, okay Captain?” I said looking back at him. “Sure, dad. It was just Charlie helping,” he said, not even looking up at me. I chuckled at my son and got out of the car. I walked around the front of the car and then moved toward the back, waving to Robby as I passed his window – but he still wasn’t looking. He was intently playing with some crazy looking superhero or something. When I got to the back of the car I noticed that the bumper was now about a foot away from the tree. I couldn’t believe it. I could clearly see the scrapes on both the tree trunk and the bumper of the car, showing that I had gotten too close, but I would now be able to pull away easily. I stood there trying to figure out what had happened. I then realized the tire was now a little off the back edge of the asphalt driveway. I figured the car had shifted because it went off the edge – making it move away from the tree. That seemed logical, but something else caught my eye that didn’t make sense. On the top of the metal part of the bumper, near the edge, there was small dent the size of a big thumb or something. How in the heck did that get there, I thought. I looked at the tree to see if there had been a branch or something else that caused the indention, but there was nothing. The car wasn’t even a month old. I had not noticed that dent before. It must have happened at work, because it was the only other place I parked beside my garage. I made a mental note to get both the dent and the scrape fixed in the near future. I was definitely a guy that was car obsessed. I wanted it always spotless and blemish-less. I walked back around and got in the car. “Charlie fixed it, right?” Robby asked. I smiled at my son’s face in the rearview mirror. It was so nice of my son to always have his imaginary friend fix things for me. I had a feeling, though; it was going to get old pretty soon. For now, however, it was great to think there was someone looking out for us. “Yeah, he did a fine job,” I said a little sarcastically, but that was lost on Robby – thank goodness. “He’s gonna take care of the tree for ya,” Robby said turning back to his toy. “That will be great,” I said, smiling to myself, as we pulled onto the street, heading for Miss Emma’s. After dropping Robby off at day care I remembered to get Margaret that pastry she loved. I needed to say thank you for the fact that she might have covered for me in some way since I took the day off. It turned out that the day had been extremely quiet and she was very happy I wasn’t there; because it gave her time to catch up on a lot of work I had been keeping her from. She told me that the pastry had not been necessary, but I saw the happiness hidden in her face. I ended up having a meeting near home that afternoon, so I told Margaret that I’d just call it a day after the meeting. I didn’t want to face traffic back to the office and then turn around an hour later to go get Robby. I thought it would be a great chance to do a little cleaning, since the housekeeper was coming on Monday. Margaret always laughed when I told her I straightened things before it was cleaned professionally. I told her I didn’t want people to think I was untidy. She would always tell me that since I had a five year old, I had the right to have an untidy house. That afternoon, when I pulled into my driveway, I noticed the difference right away. The stupid tree was gone. Well, it wasn’t really gone; it was stacked in pieces near the end of the driveway - some were large and some were small. I didn’t pull into the garage. I stopped the car in the middle of the driveway and got out to look at the hole that now existed where the tree used to be. It was amazing. It looked like something had yanked the tree straight out of the ground and not the usual way - by cutting the thing down and then pulling the stump out with a chain. It was a pretty clean hole and a lot of the lose dirt had fallen back into it, sort of filling the empty space. I knew immediately that Mr. Johnson, next door, had done it. He hated the tree as much as I did since it was so close to wires that ran to his house and he had always worried a big storm might someday bring everything down. We had talked a lot about getting rid of it, but I couldn’t believe he had taken the initiative to make it happen. I wasn’t mad - I was just surprised. I would have to pay him for it. I knew he was having some work done to his place, so there must have been a crane there that pulled the tree out of the ground. I walked down to take a look at the pieces of the tree stacked by the road. I was amazed to see that they weren’t cleanly cut, like by a chain saw. It looked like something had snapped the trunk into pieces, since the breaks were like splinters – as if they had been simply ripped apart. No matter what it looked like or who had done it, I was just happy the tree was gone. I would fill the hole this weekend and put a sign on the wood that it was free to be taken. I knew it would disappear before Monday came. I went inside, a little more excited about cleaning, since the main job in my yard had already been taken care of. That evening, when I pulled into the driveway, I didn’t say anything to Robby about the tree, because I wanted to see if he noticed. When he didn’t say a word, I stopped the car, again in the middle of the driveway, and turned in the seat to look at him. “Notice anything, Captain?” I asked. “Yeah, tree’s gone,” he said matter-of-factly, as if he had expected it to be gone. “I know, isn’t that fantastic?” I said excitedly. “Mr. Johnson must have had it pulled out.” “No, Charlie did it,” Robby said with a sigh and it sounded like he was amazed that I didn’t remember that from this morning. I looked at him and I could tell he saw my amazement at his lack of surprise. “He said he was gonna fix it for ya.” “Well, that was very nice of whoever it was that did it,” I said, not wanting to ruin the great feeling that came from having the tree gone. I was beginning to really worry about Robby’s fixation with Charlie. I decided that I would call his doctor tomorrow. For a second I wondered if a change in diet might help get rid of the imaginary friend, but I knew that was stupid. It then hit me that we didn’t have anything to fix for dinner. “Oh, Robby, I forgot to pick something up at the store for dinner. Can we run to the market really fast?” “Yippee!” Robby yelled and, as usual, threw his hands in the air. This was not the response that I expected. Robby usually hated going to the store. I quickly turned the car around in the newly improved driveway, hoping his enthusiasm would last for the entire trip. I started making a short grocery list in my head as I waited for traffic to let me pull out. “What do you want for dinner?” I asked. “Vegeetubles,” he said and this caused me to glance at him in the mirror. He was looking to the empty space in the seat beside him and was nodding, as if he was agreeing with someone. I still did not believe he was starting to eat vegetables. No matter what I thought of his imaginary friend, I was very excited that this change had happened. Upon entering the store I noticed that it wasn’t very crowded, so I allowed Robby to push one of the children’s carts that were provided. I prayed to God that he wouldn’t hit some display, sending cans all over the floor, or worse, some elderly woman. He did very well and followed me closely, only putting items in his cart that were approved. When we got to the fruits and vegetables section I immediately noticed a huge guy wearing a tight black t-shirt and jeans. I swear I was a huge magnet when it came to big guys seemingly made of steel The guy was obviously a professional bodybuilder or something, because he had muscles on top of muscles. He was dreamy and yummy all rolled into one. I kept glancing from the huge guy back to Robby – making sure my son didn’t see me going ga-ga over the big man. At one point I noticed that Mr. Muscles looked directly at me and smiled, in a way that made my toes curl. Oh damn, he caught me looking at him, I thought. I’m sure my face flushed red. I glanced away, down at my son, who was trying to choose the perfect box of raisins from a row of about fifteen. When I glanced back up the bodybuilder was now standing across the wide stand between us that held a bunch of different fruits. He was looking directly at me and had a big smile across his face. God, the man was huge. I’m sure he was about six foot four and it seemed like he was the same length from shoulder to shoulder. He had dark semi-long black hair and olive skin. The guy looked like some Italian muscled statue and he stared at me as if he knew me. “Hello,” the perfect man said in a perfect bass voice. Everything about him exuded manliness. “Hi,” I said sheepishly, but I also felt very bold, somehow. “I’m Marshall.” Before he could say anything a crazy thought came into my mind and I blurted out, “Your name isn’t Charlie, is it?” “No, I’m afraid not,” said the giant man in front of me and my heart sank a little. His smile seemed to grow when he added, “It’s Charles.” “Some people call you Charlie,” Robby said, having stood up and stepped back from the fruit stand a little – far enough to see the big guy on the other side. Of course a person would have had to be incredibly small to miss the huge Charles. “Hey Robby! How are you?” Charles said to my son, obviously in a way that meant they knew each other. “Yes, that’s true; some people do call me Charlie. So, this is your super-dad that I’ve heard so much about.” My mouth dropped open and I was speechless for a few seconds – for so many reasons, the size of the guy, the fact that his bulging muscles seemed to ripple even when he was just speaking, and the fact that he knew my son. My lips went up and down a few times, but no sound came out. Finally, I regained some composure. “You two know each other?” I said looking at Charles and then down at Robby. “He’s Miss Emma’s brother,” Robby said smiling. I turned back to the big guy. “It’s true,” he said and then he extended one of his long, thick arms across the piles of fruit. I reached up and shook his hand. My knees actually knocked together when his big, strong hand engulfed my palm. Charles kept holding on even after we stopped shaking and I tried to pull away. It seemed like he was enjoying the fact that we were touching as much as I was. It was like he was touching another human being for the first time. “I really have heard a lot about you, Marshall,” Charles added, finally letting go of my hand and breaking the silence that had surrounded us. “Umm, I think I’ve heard some things about you,” I replied awkwardly and then quickly added, “I mean, I guess some things I’ve heard are beginning to make sense.” Charles had an understandably confused look on his face. I had no idea how to explain that my son had created an imaginary friend completely based on him – in every detail: hair, muscles, smile, huge frame, and so much more. For a split second I allowed myself to acknowledge that the Charles standing in front of me was a hundred times better than the Charlie of my sexual fantasy last night. I opened my mouth to try and explain, but I was conveniently interrupted. “Charlie! Come to our house for food,” Robby said cheerfully. I was instantly embarrassed. I looked at the big man and held up a finger, signifying I needed just a quick second with my son. I bent down so my face was even with Robby’s. “Robby, that’s not polite. I’m sure Charles has plans and we don’t want to put him on the spot that way. It’s usually polite to ask a person to dinner a few nights later, so they can plan for it,” I said all of this patiently and in a way that did not make Robby feel reprimanded. I wanted to make sure my son learned lessons, but in a positive way. “Actually, Marshall, I’d love to,” Charles said and both Robby and I turned to face him. I looked back to my son and he smiled at me triumphantly. “Well, that’s great. Yep, that’s really great,” I said, standing back up to face the man that came closer than any other human in the world to matching my fantasies. I suddenly felt very weird and nervous, knowing he would be at our house – this man whose smile made my dick twitch uncontrollably. I said the first thing that came into my head to avoid another moment of drooling silence. “We’re having vegetables.” “I hear they make you big and strong,” Charles said and I saw him wink at Robby. “So I’ve heard, as well,” I added and Robby laughed. “I think I’ll make some spaghetti, as well.” “Yippee!” cheered Robby, throwing his hands in the air. “Yippee!” echoed Charles and he, also, put his big beefy arms in the air. This caused me to become slightly dizzy – gazing at his muscled limbs stretched in the air. The biceps and triceps were perfectly formed and bulging magnificently. I did the only thing I could think of to prevent myself from falling to the floor from faint. I, too, threw my hands in the air. “Yippee,” I said weakly and it was quite obvious I was having trouble getting air into my lungs. I guess it is true, what they say, that there are people in the world that can actually take your breath away. Part IV: Wings of Muscle Desire Robby, Charles, and I finished shopping as one inseparable unit – gathering stuff to make spaghetti and then gathering some fresh vegetables picked out by my son. He, to my great surprise, chose broccoli and a mixture of ingredients to make a salad. The entire time he surveyed the choices for veggies, Charles explained the benefits that could come from eating each one. I was impressed with his vast knowledge of food, but then, looking at his body, I guess he would have to know a lot about what was best for getting bigger and stronger. It obviously worked for him! Within about ten minutes I had completely fallen for the big man, but not half as much as Robby had. If Charles the muscleman had swiped the vegetables off of the stand with one of his huge arms and offered to take me right there in the middle of the store, I’m sure I would have said yes. And on top of everything – his size, his looks, his smile, and his gentle personality – he was incredible with Robby. He had my boy eating out of his hand. Literally. The guy got my son to eat some grapes and a few strawberries as we shopped. Robby had constantly turned his nose up at both items any time I suggested he try them, but not for the beautiful man that led us around the store. No, for him, my son seemed to only have the word “yes” in his vocabulary. It was not that I was jealous, trust me, I loved that my son trusted this guy. I was just surprised. I also thought my son had incredible taste – shown by his choice of imaginary friends, turned real. If I could have had an imaginary friend like Charles when I was a kid, I promise I would not have spent so many years and so many dollars coming to terms with the fact that I was gay. Every now and then Charles would reach over and place his big hand on my shoulder or grab my neck and squeeze lightly. Each time his large, strong fingers touched me, my body would shiver with glee – something that did not go unnoticed by the big guy. I realized, as well, that he seemed to want to touch me a lot. He did not at all hide the fact that he enjoyed being around me – as a matter of fact, as we walked down aisles in the store I noticed, a couple of times, that people stared when the heavily muscled man was affectionate with me. I could tell people assumed we were a couple and that Robby was our son. This thought thrilled me very much. I imagined that the three of us looked very handsome together, or maybe I just hoped we did. Like I said, by the time we finished buying all of the groceries for our dinner, I had fallen for Charles like a lead balloon. It wasn’t until we stepped outside, into the parking lot, that it dawned on me Charles had not bought anything in the store. “Didn’t you need to buy something?” I asked as we walked toward my car. “I’m sorry,” he said, turning towards me because he didn’t get what I meant. Robby was riding on one of his monstrous shoulders – a fact that made me wish I was riding on the other one – so Charles had to turn slightly to speak to me. “Were you shopping for something? You didn’t buy anything,” I said holding up the two bags in my hands. “Oh no, I didn’t need anything. I was just in there looking,” he answered. I found the comment odd, but didn’t think about it any more. I guess he was just one of those people that went into grocery stores to see if they wanted anything and sometimes left empty handed. But something else, in the way he answered, made me think he was actually in the store looking for something specific. I couldn’t explain this feeling and I didn’t know if the store had not had want he wanted or if he had just decided against getting it. I allowed myself to dream, for just a minute or two; he had come into the store to find Robby and me. I could not believe my brain had the ability to go to such wild places of fantasy. I forced my overactive imagination to stop and I just focused on the fact that the huge man was with us right now. I told myself to live in the moment and not let my dreams of rings, china patterns, and even more children, cloud reality. “I’m the hybrid right over there,” I said, pointing in the direction of where we were parked. “Where’s your car?” “I don’t have one,” Charles said. This statement made me think, for the first time, that maybe my dream man was not as perfect as I thought. He didn’t have a car? How did he get around? Please, dear God, don’t let him say he doesn’t have a job. “Wow. I don’t think I could live in this city without a car,” I said, trying to cover up my surprised look by taking the conversation a different way. I ventured next, however, where, deep down, I really didn’t want to go. “What do you do for a living?” “Oh, you know, I guess you’d say I help people,” he answered, as he lifted his shoulder a few times to make Robby bounce up and down. At first I didn’t know what his answer meant, but then I figured it out – mainly because of his incredible body and the fact that I wanted my dream muscle man to have a steady job. “You mean like a personal trainer?” I asked. “Yeah, you could say that. I personally train people.” He answered and a broad smile appeared across his face. “Well, I’d definitely like you to personally train me,” I said, only half joking. “I’d like that a lot,” he replied with a very serious look. “It’s one of the reasons I hoped I would meet you.” I didn’t understand his last comment, but it was so sweet that I refused to analyze it. We were at the car, so we loaded the groceries, put Robby in the car seat, and then began to climb in. To my surprise, Charles got in the back seat and sat beside Robby. I was in the car and putting on my seatbelt before I noticed what he had done. “Oh, you can ride up here, Charles. Robby will be fine back there by himself.” I explained. “This is where I always ride,” he said simply. There was an awkward pause before I forced myself to speak. “Okay then,” I said, trying not to show I was shocked. I started the car and made my way out of the parking lot. I was so confused about this guy. He was definitely a super stud, but he also seemed very innocent, or maybe it was something else, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then it hit me, he acted like he was new to everything – like he was experiencing the place for the first time. That must be it. Charles had probably just moved here. “Are you new to town, Charles?” I asked, looking at him in the rearview mirror. “Yes, very new,” he replied. “Charlie just got here.” Robby added. “Yes, that’s right. I just got to town,” Charles said, acknowledging Robby’s comment. “Everything here is very new to me.” I looked in the mirror and saw Robby and Charles nodding their heads up and down to each other. It reminded me of Robby’s similar action from this morning - when he had been alone in the back seat looking at an empty space that was not filled by a very large man – but he nodded in the same fashion. The drive home was mostly filled with Robby chattering away about stuff that was very important to him – a spot where he had seen two cars hit each other, his favorite place to get ice cream, and other such stuff. I kept glancing in the rearview mirror, which I had adjusted slightly, to take a look at the perfectly formed upper body of Charles. His shoulders looked unbelievable – and I couldn’t imagine how the fabric of his shirt could contain such muscled mountains. His neck was thick and strong looking, especially when he turned and cords of muscle stretched down behind the collar. The two huge pectoral muscles below seemed like they would also rip through the shirt, if Charles merely inhaled deeply. The two gigantic mounds looked as solid as thick steel – and as powerful. I stopped looking at the beautiful body behind me, because I almost hit the rear end of a car stopped in front of me – I was that distracted. I glanced at Charles’ face and it was obvious he knew what had happened. It caused him to smile in a way that made my cock stir between my legs. I smiled back, knowing my face was red, and then turned to watch the road the entire rest of the way home. “Good job,” Robby said out loud, as we turned into our driveway. Both Charles and I said “thank you” at the same time. I was sure Robby was commenting on my driving, but when I glanced to the back seat I noticed my son was looking at the big man beside him. I could not fathom what he was complimenting Charles about and found it a little surprising. “Good job, too, dad,” Robby said turning to me. “Yes, Marshall, thanks for driving,” Charles said and I became more confused about this little interplay between the three of us. I decided to let it all go and not let my nervousness about being around this big stud cause problems for the evening. I took a few deep breaths and then opened my door. “Who’s hungry?” I asked. “I am!” yelled Robby. “You’re always hungry,” came out of Charles’ and my mouth at the same time. This caused all three of us to laugh, but it also caught me off guard. Why in the world did Charles say that and why did he think he knew my son so well. I moved to the back to get the groceries, while Charles helped Robby out of the car seat. As soon as they were out of the car they walked over to where the tree used to stand. I glanced over as I grabbed bags and watched as they obviously talked about the hole and the tree that used to be there. Robby must have been telling Charles about me hitting the tree this morning and then about how it was taken away while we were gone. To my surprise, though, Robby was talking at all. Charles was chatting away and moving his hands in a very animated way. At one point he bent his knees and held his big arms out in a circle in front of his chest, as if he were doing a ballet move. Charles then stood up slowly, like he was explaining the proper way to lift something. The big man then lowered his right hand, palm up, to beside his knee and acted like he was curling an object. My mouth watered when I saw his bicep bulge when his arm bent upward. My son then clapped his hands together a few times and shouted “yippee.” Both of them then turned to walk back and join me. I had already shut the doors to the car and was headed inside. For the life of me I could not imagine what they had been talking about. Both of them were laughing when they reached me. “What’s so funny?” I asked, not wanting to be left out. Both of them looked at each other and started laughing more. “We were just talking about your little accident this morning,” Charles said. I glanced at Robby with an accusatory face - not understanding why he had to tell Charles that story. My look did not impact Robby at all. He was having too much fun swinging on one of the gigantic arms at the big man’s side. Charles had turned his hand backwards so Robby could sit on it like a horse on a carousel. The big guy was easily supporting Robby’s small body as he moved his arm back and forth like a carnival ride. At that point I wanted to be my son so my hands could be holding on to the thick, muscled forearm of our huge guest. I turned to head into the house so my mind could get a rest from the desires that were ravishing me as I gazed at Charles. I spoke to both of them over my shoulder as we moved into the kitchen. “Robby, why don’t you give Charles a tour of the place as I start dinner,” I suggested. “Oh, I know it pretty well already,” the big guy said as he continued to swing his arm with my son attached to it. I glanced at him with a puzzled look. “I mean it’s a pretty standard layout, I’m sure. I could tell by the outside. I bet there are three bedrooms off of the hallway upstairs, a bathroom connected to the master bedroom and one between the other bedrooms, and downstairs consists of a living room, den, study, dining room, laundry workroom and kitchen.” I was surprised because Charles had nailed the description of the place perfectly. He must have been familiar with this type of house. He seemed to know each room. In the back of my head I felt that there was more, like he actually knew what was in each room and how it was decorated, but that must have been my overactive imagination again. There was no way that he had been in our house before. Still, there was something that made me feel a familiarity with Charles that was much more than my sheer lust for the man’s body. I couldn’t put a name to the feeling, but I knew it was there. “Well, you sound as if you’ve been here before,” I said sort of laughing. “That’s crazy, dad!” Robby said quickly, as if he were covering something up. I looked at him with a quizzical face. “I have a friend that’s an architect. That’s all,” explained Charles. I saw that he glanced at Robby quickly. The two of them had already created some kind of bond that excluded me in a small way. It kind of bothered me, but it was also great, because I wanted my son to like this man. I had high hopes for a potential relationship with the big guy. My son’s opinion was very important to me. Since he had chosen his imaginary friend Charlie for me, I thought he might like this close-to-the-same real thing. “Well, how about you two find something to do while your dad prepares dinner,” I said cheerfully to Robby and then glanced up at Charles. “C’mon Charlie, let’s go to my room,” Robby said and I clearly heard a foreshadowing of what he would be like in his teenage years when he had friends over. My son grabbed the man’s large hand beside him and they began to leave. “Are you sure I can’t help with dinner?” Charles asked. “No, you are our guest tonight. It won’t be the fanciest meal you’ve ever had, but you will not have to fix it. Run along with Robby and let him entertain you. He’s good at that.” I answered, flicking my hands in the air as if to shoo them out of the room. “My dad’s a great cook, Charlie,” Robby said boastfully and my heart swelled with pride. The two of them left the kitchen and it seemed like I breathed for the first time since meeting Charles in the grocery store. It was then I realized my cock had been hard since the store, as well. With the man’s gorgeous body, covered in unbelievable muscles, out of the room, I was able to calm down somewhat. I began to get the food organized for cooking. I couldn’t focus very well on what I was doing because I continued to think about Charles. I could not believe that he was so built. I could tell his legs were huge, and obviously powerful, even through his jeans. I kept thinking about how tight his black shirt was and how its color only highlighted his dark hair and tan skin. I tried hard to come up with some blemish or a part of him that wasn’t perfect, but I could name nothing. He had a perfect bubble ass and an upper back that seemed wider than my SUV. His tapered torso reminded me of statues I had once seen in Greece – images of gods, like Poseidon, that reflected masculinity and perfection. I loved the idea that Charles was some type of Greek god that had decided to come to earth just to be with Robby and me. Suddenly, my cock was rigid again, and I forgot where I was in my dinner preparations. I forced myself to focus on the task of getting food ready. I stopped fantasizing about the big man upstairs.When I had everything finally under control and the meal was almost ready, I decided to go upstairs and check on the boys. As I neared the half-shut door of Robby’s room, I stopped to listen in on what they were saying. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted to see if I could hear Charles say anything about me. I knew I was acting like a kid in junior high school, but that’s exactly what the big muscleman caused me to feel like. At first I was a little confused by what I heard, but all was clearly revealed later on. “Ninety-eight,” Robby said, and I could tell he was smiling by the sound of his voice. “He likes you, Charlie. I know. Ninety-nine.” “I’m glad, Robby. I like him . . . and you,” answered the strong voice of Charles. “One hundred,” Robby continued. “Are you gonna tell him? One hundred and one.” “Yes. I’ll tell him soon. You’re a good counter, Robby,” Charles said. “Thanks. One hundred and two. My dad helps me,” Robby answered. I was sure they were talking about me. My son the matchmaker! I couldn’t believe it. Not that I was complaining, or anything, since I definitely liked Charles and wanted to get to know him more. My curiosity about what they were doing got the best of me, though, and I stepped up to peer through the open door. I was amused and excited by what I saw. There was Charles doing push-ups on the floor in the middle of Robby’s room and my son was sitting cross-legged in the middle of his wide back. He looked so small compared to the huge body of the man lowering himself to the floor and then pushing back up in perfect form. My son was counting off each time the big man straightened his arms completely. Seeing Charles doing push-ups with someone on his back made my cock spring to life again. I knew that Robby didn’t weigh much, but just the thought of the huge muscled god doing any kind of exercise was enough to get me excited. I pushed open the door and stepped into the room as Robby called out “one hundred and eight.” “Well, are you helping Charles do some exercises?” I asked, making my presence known. “Yeah,” answered Robby. I would usually ask him to say “yes sir,” but I was still too mesmerized by the beautiful arms of Charles as he lowered his body and pushed it back up to correct my son. “You sit on his back, too, dad!” “No, that’s okay Robby. I don’t want to take away from your fun,” I said nervously. I really did want to experience the thrill of feeling the power in the guy’s arms as he pushed me into the air, but I knew that it would probably also bring me close to spewing cum in my underwear. I did not need to have that added to the growing list of things that I had done in front of Charles that were embarrassing. I did make a mental note to ask him if I could someday ride on his back as he did push-ups – that is, IF we started dating. “Please feel free to join him, Marshall. It would be great to have the extra weight. I like seeing how strong I am,” Charles said turning his head to look at me. There was not an ounce of boasting in his comment. It almost sounded as if Charles were doing push-ups for the first time and wanted to see what his arms could do. That wasn’t possible, however, by the looks of his bulging, muscular arms and his massive chest, which looked like it was pressing on the shirt even more than before. It was quite obvious that the man had probably been doing push-ups from the day he popped out of his mother’s womb. I’m not sure what came over me – my need to personally feel Charles’ strong body beneath me, my desire to test his strength, or my son’s pleading eyes – but I gave in. “Well, if it’s going to help you get a better pump, Charles, then I guess I can,” I replied and immediately noticed it sounded lame and like I was using that as an excuse instead of saying why I truly wanted to experience the ride. Come to think of it, that’s what I was doing. “Yippee,” yelled Robby and, yes, his hands went up in the air. I could feel beads of sweat gathering on my forehead and back. I had not felt this kind of excitement in a very long time. I was about to sit on the back of the man of my dreams as he pushed my son and me into the air – doing push-ups. This had been a fantasy of mine for a very long time. I have no idea why. Was it because of the strength it showed off in a man’s arms or was it because there was a certain intimacy shared from touching a man’s body as he worked out, feeling muscles constrict and relax – bunching up into hard mounds of rock-like tendons, pumping blood, and all covered by hot, sweaty skin. Or was it a combination of both. I picked up Robby and he stood on the floor beside Charles. The big man had his arms locked and was pressing his body into the air. When I climbed on his wide back it felt like I was sitting on a huge marble table. I moved my body so I was sitting cross-legged at the wide part of his back. I’m sure even I looked small, like Robby did, sitting on such a wide muscled torso. My son climbed into my lap and sat facing the same way as me. I moved my hard cock to a place where it would not be felt by the small body in my lap. I’m not sure I succeeded, but I also knew Robby did not know what a hard-on was – not yet anyway. This made me hope he wouldn’t notice. “Are you guys comfortable?” asked Charles. “Yes,” answered both Robby and me. “Well, make sure you stay balanced. I’ll start out slow and then pick up the speed once you get used to the motion,” Charles said. And with that he bent his arms and we all moved slowly towards the floor. I can’t begin to explain the incredible feeling that shot through my body as I felt the big man bend his arms at a very slow pace, clearly showing that it was nothing for his arms to control the added weight. I was a little disappointed that I could not watch his arms and chest closely from my seat on top. It would have been incredible to see how his chest and biceps bulged as he lowered all of us so easily. I did get an awesome view of his triceps, which popped out like balloons being filled with helium. They both split into multiple layers of heavy muscle. I made another mental note, if the two of us did end up dating, to ask Charles if I could lie on the floor beneath him as he lowered his body doing push-ups, that way I’d be able to get an in-your-face 3D view of his chest. That thought made my body shiver greatly. I was sure both Robby and Charles noticed my reaction, but neither said anything. By this time, Charles had lowered and pushed his body back up about four times. I was in a muscle dreamland and could not fathom any greater feeling. I could see that his pumped-up muscles were stretching the shirt to a point where I’m sure it was about to rip. I secretly hoped the fabric would begin to tear at the seams and I’d be able to see his perfect olive skin bulge through the tears. I knew, however, that the first sight of muscle busting through part of his shirt would send my body into some kind of frenzy that could only end with gallons of cum shooting out of my cock, which presently felt so hard that I’m sure it was petrified. “Now for a little faster pace, gentleman,” said Charles as he stared pumping his arms up and down quickly. Robby and I bounced around a little, but the muscled back we sat on was so wide that we didn’t fear falling off. I could tell it would be nothing for Charles to continue this for a few hours, but I knew our meal was certainly ready by now. The only thing in the world I wanted to do was continue riding this muscled bull for the entire evening. I longed to stretch out completely on his giant body, allowing my hard cock to press into his perfectly bubbled butt so he would know how much he turned me on. I also knew that, when I spread myself completely over his body, I would be able to feel more of his hardened muscles as they worked effortlessly lifting our bodies up and down. I let my mind wonder briefly what al of this would feel like if both Charles and I were naked. I knew any kind of interplay that involved only skin would have to take place without Robby, but I did fantasize about Charles without his shirt on just for a minute. I could not wait to see what was causing the shirt to bulge out with insane massiveness everywhere. The motion caused by Charles’ strong arms and the fact that my body had not been this close to another man in a long time, especially a man as big as this one, I was very close to shooting my load. I knew I had to ask the muscled stud to stop even though it would be one of the hardest things I’d ever do. “I’m afraid our dinner might be spoiled if we don’t stop soon,” I said and my voice sounded a little strained as my body went up and down quickly, like I was riding a trotting horse. I practically was riding a man as big as a horse. “And Charles, there might be some other things spoiled if you don’t stop, as well.” This caused Charles to cease moving as he lowered our bodies to the ground. He let his pumped chest rest on the floor. His body was shaking a little and it took me a second to realize he was laughing at my innuendo about my potential release of semen. I became embarrassed and regretted being so honest. “What’s so funny,” Robby asked. He now felt left out the same way that I had earlier. Again, I was not ready to explain ejaculation to my five-year-old son. “I was getting a little dizzy from the motion, Robby, that’s all,” I replied and this made Charles laugh out loud. His entire body shook so hard that Robby and me were bounced off and fell on the floor. By this time we were both laughing, as well. It took us a few seconds to settle down, but when we all stood up, I immediately looked to the chest and arms of the giant in front of me. To say that Charles looked like a Greek god earlier had been an understatement. His body was now inflated more than it was when we met him at the store. He had a very light glow about him – caused either by a light sheen of sweat or, more likely, by the fact that blood was pumping into the parts of his body that most turned me on. His pecs were rising and falling as he breathed and that only highlighted their massiveness. His nipples poked up against the fabric like they were about to slice through his shirt easily and be mouth-watering ready for a good sucking. I’m sure they could have easily been declared a lethal weapon. But it was Charles’ arms that made both Robby and I excited beyond belief. Robby just liked the fact that the huge arms made Charles look like a super hero, one of his action figures he played with. They excited me for that reason, too, but for many other reasons, as well. Those pumped arms bulged with power – a strength that I had just experienced, although I was sure I had witnessed only a fraction of what they could do. They made the muscle god look indestructible and more masculine than an army of lesser men. If my son had not been in the room I would have begged Charles to let me lick every bulge, every vein, and every striation that stood out like the Swiss Alps at his sides. And all of this described his arms when they weren’t flexed, I was not sure my body could have stood it if he had decided to flex his arms in any way at that moment. I was speechless, but my son was not. “You’re huge, Charlie!” he exclaimed. The comment made Charles smile uncontrollably. He looked like some kid at Christmas – surrounded by presents. The big man stared at me, not breaking his gaze even to blink. It was as if my son was not in the room. I was suddenly aware that this entire display had been done to impress, or please, me. It was great that Robby liked it, but it was all done to make me hard – I could see that now. I saw in Charles’ eyes something that I had not experienced from another man for a long time. I saw that he desired me greatly. I saw that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I saw a need in him that mirrored my own need of his body and his presence. I needed to acknowledge all of this somehow. I wanted Charles to realize that I understood what he was feeling. I wanted him to know that I felt the same way. I looked at my son and smiled. Then I turned back to the handsome man in the middle of the room. “Yes, Robby, you are definitely right,” I affirmed. “You are, indeed, very huge, Charles. And you are as beautiful as you are big.” I smiled when I saw his face turn red – like mine had done so many times that evening. Part V: There’s Something About Charlie I was still trying to fully grasp the fact that I had just made the biggest man I had ever met turn bright red with embarrassment. All I did was agree with my five-year-old son that Charles was indeed very huge and equally as handsome. It had been a truthful statement, but I’m sure the monstrous muscleman understood all that was underneath my simple statement. I was basically telling him that he rocked my world tremendously, and not just because he pumped out a bunch of push-ups with my son and me sitting on his back, no, it was much more than just the reaction of the hardened cock in my pants. Charles had seeped through the cracks of a wall within me that had been put up years ago, when my partner - the one that decided to have a child with me and then abruptly left – ripped my heart from my body. It was pretty symbolic that the muscled giant in the room had brought down my protective wall like Samson toppling some huge structure. Yes, Charles was some kind of superhero that had flown into my world and within three hours had made me open myself to the point where I said things that were profoundly honest and very revealing. Charles knew everything that had caused me to take this incredible risk – the fact that my son liked him very much, the fact that his body turned me on beyond my wildest fantasies, the fact that I needed someone very strong to offer support secure enough for me to trust it, and the fact that I desired to please him as much as he did me. This is what made the pumped up, gorgeous, muscled stud turn red. He had no idea how much his reaction pleased me. I knew better, however, than to draw attention to his feelings. “Who is ready for dinner?” I asked, attempting to move focus off of the heaving chest and bulging arms of the huge man that had swept up my feelings so quickly. “I am, I am,” shouted Robby and he ran out of the room, headed down to the kitchen. Charles and I stared at each other. He turned a deeper red as we simply looked at each other with an intensity that filled every inch of the room. The big man started to breathe harder than before – as if his body had just caught up with the fact that he pushed the weight of all three of us into the air for a multitude of push-ups that were perfectly performed. I knew better, though, and smiled at the fact that my mere presence – just a few steps away – was causing so much excitement that his body was having trouble keeping up. Suddenly, I felt even more powerful than the muscle god before me. I knew that I was in control at that moment and I also knew that this feeling might never come again. I walked over to the big man and he took a deep breath as I moved within touching range. I raised my right hand and placed it on his massive chest – which was protruding out so much that I knew he couldn’t begin to see his own feet if he glanced down without bending over. My hand immediately felt heat coming from his body. His t-shirt also felt like I was touching fabric that had been thinly stretched over an enormous thick boulder. I didn’t move my hand at all; I simply let it rest against his powerful chest. I concentrated on letting my energy slowly flow from my body through my hand into his pecs. I could visibly tell that my touch excited him, but the longer I pressed my palm into the shirt over his hard skin and let my calmness flow into him, the more he started to breathe normally and his heartbeat stopped racing. Charles shut his eyes and I knew he was being surrounded by a peacefulness that was created by our bodies beginning to syncopate their rhythms. I longed to do so much more than rest my hand on his chest, but now was not the time. I knew Robby was waiting for us at the dinner table. The big man began to smile, before he even opened his eyes. We had made a connection that no words could describe. I removed my hand and we looked at each other again. We were both still on fire with desire for the other, but we were also ready to join my son for dinner. There was the unspoken promise of something happening between us later, but for now it was all about the three of us sharing a meal. “Shall we head to dinner?” I asked. All Charles could do was nod his head in affirmation. I turned and led him to the dining room downstairs. He took the seat on the other side of Robby and I went into the kitchen to bring out food. Robby, of course, talked non-stop during dinner. He raved about the fun he had riding up and down on Charles’ back as he did push-ups and then he moved on to even more important stuff like the latest SpongeBob episode. I would catch Charles’ eyes every now and then and we’d smile at each other – both about Robby’s enthusiasm and the growing lust between the two of us. By the time we started to clear dishes from the table, I was nervous that one of us was going to jump the other in a fit of uncontrollable passion. I opened a few windows in the dining room and kitchen to help cool down the fire between the big man and myself, but it didn’t help. After dishes were done and everything was put away, Robby begged us to play a few rounds of Crazy Eight. Both Charles and I got lost in the game, forgetting about our desires for a few moments as we watched Robby get excited and then frustrated as he would begin to win, but end up losing. My son was very competitive and would cheat if you didn’t watch him closely. I could tell that Charles threw a few games just to make my son happy. This pleased me a lot, mainly because I, too, was very competitive and found it hard to let my son win. I always felt Robby needed to learn to win and lose, but I wondered if I really just wanted to justify my need to win! During the last round of our card game I noticed that Robby’s eyes were beginning to close as he became more tired. It had been a very exciting day for him. Both Charles and I maneuvered it so that my son would win the last game, which seemed to renew his energy. He did not argue at all, though, when I said it was time for bed. “I’ll just be a few minutes,” I said turning to Charles. “I can come too, if it’s okay. I know the routine,” Charles replied, “brush our teeth with Spongebob and then we read three books.” “That’s right!” I said, before it even registered that he had nailed our evening routine. I could not believe he would know this. “Did Robby tell you that?” I looked at my son. “Naw, dad, Charlie’s been here, remember?” Robby answered. But before I could say anything in response Robby added, “Charlie, you come too. And you sleep with my dad again tonight.” I stood there shocked at what my son had just said. I was sure my face turned bright red. I suddenly forgot everything else that had happened and became confused as to what to say or do. I could not believe Robby would say something, but I forced myself to remember how young and innocent he was. He did not mean anything more than what he was saying. “Robby, that’s not a nice thing to say.” I said, a little too quickly. I should have thought for a second before I responded. “Why?” my son asked. “Well, it’s just that we don’t . . . I mean we have to ask people if . . . you can’t . . .” I was trying hard to figure out how to explain what I meant. “It’s fine, Robby. I’d love to sleep with your dad,” interrupted Charles. I turned to him quickly and he was smiling at me. He winked, as if to say, “Just humor the boy,” but I wasn’t sure that’s all he meant. “Well . . . okay, then,” I answered, immediately getting hard again as my mind drifted to the idea of lying in bed beside this huge man. I then added, “It will be like a sleep over.” “Gee, dad, old people don’t have sleep overs,” responded Robby laughing, “Charlie’s going to sleep with you because he’s gonna be my new dad.” This was too much for me to handle. I was completely lost in my lust for Charles, my bewilderment at my son’s remarks, and the pressure I felt at my crotch. I quickly realized that I was staring at my son with my mouth wide open. I gathered my strength quickly so I wouldn’t freak out too much. I remembered some of the things that I had been reading in all the parenting books piled up beside my bed and I moved in the direction I thought best. I simply ignored what Robby had said. I knew that if I didn’t make a big deal out of what he was suggesting, it would simply fade away from our memories. Well, at least, that’s what I hoped. “I think it’s time for us to brush our teeth,” I said quickly, trying to cover up my confusion and embarrassment. “Yippee!” Robby yelled, throwing his hands in the air, and turning to run out of the room. I heard his steps as he ran up the stairs. I followed immediately, not even looking at Charles. I could not even imagine looking him in the face at that moment. “I think I have an extra toothbrush in my bathroom,” I said as I left the room. “Don’t worry Marshall, there’s a SpongeBob toothbrush for me in Robby’s bathroom,” replied Charles. I stopped in my tracks for a quick second, confused by this statement since I had forgotten about the extra toothbrush until that moment. I regained my momentum and continued up the stairs to join Robby. The three of us brushing our teeth together proved to be much harder than I anticipated, and I mean that in many different ways. First of all, there was little room in the small bathroom once the hulking frame of the gorgeous muscleman visiting us filled it. Our arms kept brushing up against each other and something akin to electricity would shoot through my body and come to full force in my cock each time. It was difficult also because there is a huge mirror in Robby’s bathroom and I found myself wanting to stare at Charles’ bent arm as he brushed his perfectly white teeth. The bicep bulged and stretched the fabric of his shirt so much that numerous times I just stood there staring as toothpaste foamed out of my mouth and down my shirt like I was a rabid dog. I realized midway through our teeth cleaning that Charles was completely aware of what I was staring at and that he was flexing his arm even more just to torture me. At one point I caught his eyes in the mirror and he smiled as he stopped moving his toothbrush up and down just so he could pump up his bicep extra hard – so hard, in fact, that the fabric made a noise as it screamed from being stretched too far. I almost shot a load as I began to imagine what it would be like to watch the sleeve of his black t-shirt rip across the beautiful thick peak of his upper arm. The only thing that prevented me from cumming in my pants was my son picking up on the chemistry between Charles and me. “You guys like each other, don’t you?” Robby asked. I looked down at him quickly and saw that he had a huge smile across his face. He had obviously been done brushing his teeth for a while. “Well, of course I like Charles,” I said and sprayed toothpaste all over the mirror in front of us. I had forgotten to rinse before speaking and this caused Robby, as well as Charles, to start laughing uncontrollably. I managed to regain some order in the room, rinsed my mouth, and said, “Okay, you two, into the bedroom for some reading.” Robby squirmed passed me and then I pressed my body up against the sink as Charles walked by. There was plenty of room for the big man, but he purposely pressed his body against mine as he walked behind me. I gasped out loud and this caused him to chuckle a little. I was pretty sure that I felt his very hard cock as he passed by and this caused my body to shake with excitement. We caught each other’s glance as he exited the room and I saw him mouth the words “You’re beautiful.” I had to stand at the sink for a few seconds after he left the room to calm myself down. I pressed my hardened rod up against the tiled top of the sink cabinet to intensify the feeling that Charles had caused. I knew if I didn’t stop daydreaming about seeing the big man naked I was going to blow my wad. I pushed away from the sink and moved toward Robby’s bedroom. “Okay Captain, time for a book or two,” I said moving towards the reading chair. “Charles can sit on your bed and listen.” “No, daddy,” Robby said, pulling at my hand, “Charles will sit first and we both can sit in his lap. That way we all get to see the pictures.” I felt my face flush red for the umpteenth time that evening. “Robby, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said looking at my son. “Please, daddy!” Robby pleaded. “I know Charlie wants to.” I looked at my son’s happy face and then turned to Charles. The big guy shrugged his shoulders and lifted his palms upward as if to say, “What are you going to do? - We should please the boy.” I knew I would get no help from him. I looked back down at Robby as he tugged on my hand with excitement. I knew instantly that I would not disappoint my son, but I wondered if I was going through with his new request just for him or if it was really for me. It didn’t matter; Charles moved to the chair and sat down. He then spread his big, thick legs and patted his massive right thigh inviting me to sit down. I suddenly became immobile as I anticipated touching his bulging body. Robby brought me out of my lustful coma as he pulled on my arm, leading me over to Charles. “Umm, what book should we . . . I mean what story do you want to . . . uh, you need to choose something to . . .” I tried to force words out of my mouth as I moved towards the beautiful man before me. If Robby had not been leading me I would not have been able to make it the few steps across the room. “Robby . . . what do you think . . . um, would be . . .?” “Don’t worry dad, I’ve got some books,” interrupted my son as I turned my body so I could scoot between Charles’ big legs. I was being careful not to touch him while I moved and I kept my eyes locked on his, mainly so I wouldn’t stare at his gigantic body as I got closer. I inhaled loudly right before I bent my knees and let my ass connect with his solid-as-steel leg. When my body touched his it was like some kind of explosion went off in my stomach that sent shock waves throughout every part of me. I could not believe how sturdy his leg felt. Suddenly, Robby climbed into my lap and let his body lean partly against me and partly against the protruding chest of Charles. I felt a giant arm reach around my body and then a strong hand grabbed my outside shoulder and pulled my frame into the same wall of firm muscle my son leaned against. A small whimper escaped from my body. Immediately, Charles lessened his grip on my shoulder. “Did I hurt you Marshall,” the big man asked and I could tell he was truly concerned. “Umm, uh, no . . . no, I’m fine. I just wasn’t ready to feel all of your . . . I mean, I wasn’t expecting for you to feel so solid . . . no, what I meant to say is that you just caught me off guard, that’s all.” As I spoke I sounded like a complete idiot. I looked at Charles’ face and saw that he was smiling at my response. I could tell he completely understood how his body affected me. And by the feeling of his large, hard tube of man-meat pressing up against the back of my legs, I could tell that Charles was impacted by me in the same way. Touching his stiff dick caused my heart and crotch to start pounding harder. I was sitting as straight as a board because I was nervous that even the slightest movement would send me beyond a point of no return and I would fill my underwear with cum. My breathing became slightly labored and I was suddenly nervous that I would not be able to read any of the stories that Robby had chosen. I glanced down at my son and saw that his tiny head was resting up against Charles’ massive right pec. I noticed the outline of an erect nipple, which seemed the size of a wine cork, pressing against the fabric at Robby’s eye level. I suddenly had an urge to switch places with my son and let my dry mouth wrap itself around that hard nub of muscle and suck like my life depended on it. Robby’s laughter snapped me out of my dream-like state. I looked down at his face and saw that he was chuckling at me. “You sure are small beside Charlie, dad!” he said innocently, but it still stung a little. I looked down at my own chest and then back to the slabs of marble-meat behind Robby. What I saw caused me to laugh too. My body seemed so small compared to the huge man supporting us. I even noticed that my toes barely touched the ground sitting on Charles’ bent leg. “Read us this story, daddy.” I looked down at the book that Robby placed in my hand and almost choked on my laughter. It was called “Simon Becomes a Big Boy.” All I could think of was how big the boy sitting in the chair beneath me was. It was a short book about a small boy named Simon whose parents marked his height growth on a doorframe in his house and how Simon never seemed to grow. The story ends with Simon being very pleased when he finally gains a few inches. It was a short book and didn’t take long to finish. It was strange that as I read the story I completely forgot about sitting in the lap of a big man and I simply enjoyed the feeling of Robby, Charles, and me being so close. I shut the book after reading the last page and looked at my son. Robby was still awake, but I could tell he was fighting sleep. “Well I get as big as Charlie, daddy?” he asked me, without looking up. “Not many people get as big as Charles,” I said quickly without thinking and then added, “but maybe you will, captain, maybe you will.” I suddenly felt a hand on the side of my head. Charles pulled me gently so the side of my face rested against his beefy shoulder. It was so comfortable and secure that I simply let my body mold into the contours of his muscle. Charles let his meaty arm slide down my body and left it wrapped around me as I opened the next book chosen by my son. It was a book we had read a thousand times about a dog that gets separated from his family, but finally reunites with them and all ends well. It was one of Robby’s favorite and he usually chose it to fall asleep to. I glanced down as I started and saw that my young boy had already shut his eyes. I knew he would be asleep before the second page of this story. I did not anticipate, however, that I would also fall asleep as quickly. My voice trailed away as I finished the second page. I woke up a little later and was confused as to where I was – but it suddenly came rushing back when I looked over at the massive chest beside me. I glanced up at Charles’ face and saw him smiling down at me. I then looked at my boy in my lap and saw that he was fast asleep. He was nestled between Charles and myself – something that pleased me greatly for some reason. The big man that I was resting on let his arm drop from my body. It was as if he read my mind, I slid from his leg and held my son in my arms as I stood up. I moved to Robby’s bed and Charles stepped over to turn down the covers as I approached. I placed my son down so his head rested on the pillow. I then pulled his sheet and blanket over him. I kissed him gently on he head and then stood up. I was a little surprised as the big man beside me bent down to kiss him, as well. I wasn’t jealous, but it did catch me off guard – even if I was secretly pleased. I stood there looking at Robby as I felt Charles leave the room. I knew he was giving me a few minutes alone with my son. When I exited Robby’s room, leaving the door slightly ajar, I knew instinctively that Charles was waiting for me downstairs. As I entered the family room connected to the kitchen the big man was standing in the middle of the room with a glass of wine for me. I quickly noticed that the glass contained a red wine, and I could tell by its look that it was my favorite Malbec. How did this man know me so well was a question that filled my mind, but I pushed these thoughts aside as I quietly accepted the glass from the bodybuilder in front of me. I also noticed that he had poured a glass for himself. We silently brought our glasses together and the sound of them touching each rang through the room. I stared at his emerald eyes as we quietly toasted each other and was mesmerized by his beauty. It was the first time that I realized his face was one that I could have easily dreamed up in a fantasy – Charles looked similar to the men that I longed for at night. We both took a sip of wine as we stared at each other. I knew nothing about the man standing in front of me, but I was sure that my feelings for him were more than a mere friend. “Here’s to Robby,” Charles said raising his glass again. “He likes you a lot,” I said raising my glass to his. “And what about his dad?” Charles asked after taking a sip of wine, “Does he like me too?” His question caught me off guard. I froze with my glass in the air. I needed a moment to process his question. I watched as Charles calmly took another big gulp of his wine – obviously waiting for my response. I gathered my thoughts and processed the events of the evening that had passed by this point, before I answered. “I think you already know the answer to your question. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think I felt something that firmly confirmed your answer to the question as to whether you like Robby’s dad.” I said in response, sounding a lot cockier than I truly felt. “You are very correct,” Charles answered, smiling at me. “I was wondering if you noticed. I have never wanted something as much as I want you – how does that answer your question?” My cock ached even more than it did before his comment. I could not fathom that this muscleman wanted me as much as I wanted him. I began to doubt even the hard-on that pressed against my pants, wondering if all of this might be some kind of strange erotic dream. I took another sip of wine to prove to myself that what was happening was, indeed, very real. “I wasn’t just trying to appease Robby earlier when I said that I’d like to sleep with you, Marshall. I’m hoping that you really will ask me for a sleep-over,” Charles said, pulling me out of my stupor of doubt. It took me a few seconds to register what he had just said, but it took me no time at all to ask my next question. “Would you stay the night here, Charles? It would please me very much.” I said staring at the big man and speaking firmly, but softly. “Yes,” he replied simply. We stood there staring at each other. You could have cut the sexual tension in the room with a butter knife. It felt like neither of us blinked for a full ten minutes. I had no idea what was racing through Charles’ mind, but mine was full of visions of him undressed. I desperately wanted him to take the lead because it had been so long since I had made it to this point with any man. I was beginning to lose my nerve when he slowly, but deliberately, moved into action. He put his wine glass down on the counter, walked over to me, took my glass from my hand, placed it on the table beside me, and then bent his knees slightly placing one hand on my back and one behind my knees. He lifted me into the air effortlessly and never took his eyes from mine. I let my body fall into his strong arms, giving him control completely. Charles then began to walk around the room and took me to every light that was on so I could turn them off. Mid way through the task I realized he was taking me to each lamp or switch in the exact pattern that I did every night. It was as if he had watched me many times and had memorized my late night ritual. I smiled at this thought and closed my eyes in delight as the man of my dreams easily carried me up the stairs toward my bedroom. I only opened my eyes, taking me out of my thoughts of coming pleasure, when he stopped walking. I knew immediately that we had stopped at Robby’s door. Charles was maneuvering my body through his bedroom doorway so we could check on my son. This small action did not go unnoticed by me. I was overcome with even more desire for this incredible man because he seemed to care for my son almost as much as I did. Once we saw that Robby was sleeping soundly and was covered by his blanket, we continued down the hall to my bedroom. Charles walked directly to the bed and gently placed me down. He stood back up, remained at the side of the bed, and looked down at me smiling. “Will you indulge me in one little fantasy, Marshall?” he asked in a whisper. “Of course,” I replied quickly, without even thinking about it. I wanted to please this man that much. No matter what he wanted, I was ready to live out many fantasies with him. Part VI: Someone to Watch Over Me “Will you indulge me in one little fantasy, Marshall?” he asked in a whisper. “Of course,” I replied quickly, without even thinking about it. I wanted to please this man that much. No matter what he wanted, I was ready to live out many fantasies with him. Charles turned from the bed and walked to my closet. He disappeared for a minute and then reappeared. He carried something behind his back. When he returned to the side of the bed he again smiled down at me – it seemed like he had something a little devilish on his mind. For a second I wondered what I had gotten myself into. “Can we agree that there will be no questions? We’ll just live out my little fantasy and, if we need to, we can discuss it later?” Charles asked with slight pleading in his voice. “I promise, no questions,” I answered as my cock began to harden even more in anticipation of what was coming. Charles brought his hands from behind his back and I became very embarrassed when I saw that he held the bodybuilding magazines that I had hidden earlier on a high shelf in the closet. We both stared at the glossy covers of the multiple editions in his hands. I forced myself, in spite of my embarrassment to look at the face of the man standing beside my bed. “How did you . . .” I began, but Charles raised his right forefinger to his lips. “Shhhhh, no questions, remember?” He said quietly. “For me, right Marshall?” I nodded my head in agreement. “I’d like you to do me a favor. Please look through these and find pictures of guys that turn you on. And make sure you know why they turn you on – I mean specifically. Okay, Marshall? Can you do that for me?” Charles held out the small stack of magazines for me. I sat up, propping myself with a couple of pillows as I nodded yes. I took the magazines and, even though I was full of questions and still reeling from the fact that he knew about my secret jerk-off materials, I quickly rifled through the pages. I had stared at these things so much that I practically had them memorized. In just a few silent moments I had chosen four pictures that had helped me to ejaculate many times over the last few weeks. I held the first one up so Charles could see it. It was a picture of some new young Romanian bodybuilder – he didn’t have a beautiful face, but his body was unbelievable. “Ah, a nice choice Marshall. Do you mind telling me what you like about him?” Charles said encouragingly and this caused me to answer him swiftly and honestly. “He has beautiful abs,” I said looking back at the picture. “He does, indeed,” Charles said, taking the magazine, looking at it closely, and then handing it back to me. “Take a good look at his abs, Marshall. Get a good idea of what they look like.” He didn’t know that I had already memorized every part of the man, but I looked at the picture again. While I stared at the picture I could see that Charles was pulling his black t-shirt from his jeans. Without even looking up I knew he was lifting his shirt for me to see his stomach. “And now look at these abs, Marshall. Can you tell me which are better?” I glanced up quickly, wanting to see any part of this man without clothes – even if it was just his abs. Nothing could have prepared me, however, for the sight that was waiting. Charles had one arm behind his head and held the bottom of his shirt just below chest level as he crunched his torso. Eight flesh-covered speed-bump-looking abdominals popped out at me from his mid-section. The definition, the depth of the valleys in between each, and the power that exuded from each bulging mass of stomach muscle was mind-boggling. My mouth dropped open and I gasped out loud. I did not need to look back at the picture in my hand. I knew immediately that the abs in front of me made the guy in the picture look like a beginning weight lifter that hasn’t begun to lose his pudgy gut. My initial reaction to Charles’ abs was two-fold. First, I wanted to immediately run my tongue up and down his chiseled ridges just so I could feel them as close as possible, and then, secondly, I began to calculate in my head that his body fat count might be in negative numbers. I glanced at the face of the muscled man standing in front of me and was amazed to see that he was not straining at all to create the beautiful sight above his waist. As a matter of fact, when I looked back down he released his crunch and straightened up, and his stomach seemed as defined as it did when he was tensing it for me. I could not fathom the years of work needed to create muscles that looked like this. My head began to spin a little, and I dropped the magazine onto the floor. “One down,” Charles said laughing and then added, “who’s next?” I looked up at his face and instantly knew that he wasn’t being conceited or cocky as he led me through this muscle exercise – no, he wanted to excite me beyond my wildest dreams. He also wanted to show me that my most intense fantasies couldn’t hold a candle to the reality of his body. This was a fact that I was just beginning to grasp. I held up the next magazine without even looking at it. I continued to stare at the face of my real-life muscleman. “Nice chest,” was all I could get out in reference to the picture in my hand. Charles smiled at the fact that I could barely speak and then looked at the picture. “That is a nice chest,” Charles replied and then looked back at me. “And how does mine compare to his, Marshall?” At that moment Charles began to pull his t-shirt higher. I also noticed he had to stretch the hem of the shirt out from his body to get it beyond the massive mounds of flesh I had been admiring since we met at the grocery store. The second I saw the layers of muscle at the base of both of Charles’ mountainous pecs, I completely forgot the picture in the magazine that fell from my hand to the floor, landing beside the other one. Without even seeing his entire chest I knew there was no hope for the guy in the picture. My mouth began to water as I saw the cavernous beginning of the valley between those two huge slabs of male beef. I watched, mesmerized, as Charles struggled to pull the tight shirt over his right pec. When I finally saw the hardened nipple pop out of the rising shirt, I lost all ability to focus on anything except my need to see his entire giant chest. The big guy sensed my need and he paused, as if to tease me, letting the sight of his hard, meaty man-tit completely overwhelm me. Charles tensed the pec and I stopped breathing when I saw the different layers of muscle ripple and several indentions, which looked deep enough to hold Mont Blanc pens, formed at the side. My mind could not fathom the control it took to be able to move different parts of pectoral muscles. Then, as if he knew what I really wanted, Charles pulled the front of his shirt over his head and revealed both massive mountains of muscle. I inhaled deeply at the sight, having realized I had not been breathing. The big tease left the shirt draped from behind his head, down his neck, and under his arms – which only highlighted his awesome pecs even more. He looked me in the face as he inhaled deeply and made his chest rise into the air like it was the huge Hindenburg taking off. His intake of air made his nipples protrude out even more and I began to open and closed my lips like some baby signaling he wants to suck on his bottle. This made a giant smile creep across Charles’ face. He reached up and pulled his black t-shirt completely off of his body and let it fall to the floor. He then exhaled and held his arms at his side, simply letting his magnificent chest move up and down as he breathed. “You haven’t answered my question Marshall,” Charles said in a sexy whisper. “How does my chest compare to the one in the picture?” “That’s not a chest,” I said quickly, “that’s a whole fucking state! I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I could put all the chests in that magazine together and it wouldn’t come close to yours.” My compliments obviously pleased the muscleman in front of me. He bent down and grabbed one of the magazines that still rested in my lap. He looked at the picture and then turned it towards me. “I’m guessing you like his arms. Am I right Marshall?” he asked as I looked at some blonde guy in a picture that showed his body from the waist up as he did a double biceps pose. All I could do was nod, because I knew what was coming and the rest of my body froze in anticipation. Charles looked at the picture again. “He has some pretty big arms. I hope I can come close to matching his. I hope I don’t let you down.” As Charles spoke and continued to look at the picture, he raised his other arm so it stuck straight out at his side. He curled his fingers slowly and made a fist. As he tightened his fingers even more and bent his wrist, veins began to appear – first they snaked up his forearm and then streaked across his upper arm. My gaze rested on his biceps that already bulged immensely - before he even flexed. As he started to bend his arm I noticed immediately that his thick forearm doubled in size, but that was nothing compared to the split-peaked boulder of a biceps that exploded bigger than my upper body. The guy’s arm looked more powerful than anything I’d ever seen. His one arm was bigger than both arms of the blonde in the picture put together. Charles began to twist his hand so different parts of his forearm and biceps popped out even more. I could feel pre-cum leaking out of my stiff dick, but it wasn’t even a slight indication of the amount of juice that had been building in my body since Charles had started his muscle comparisons. I took one last look at the monstrous muscle-packed arm in front of me and then I closed my eyes. I was very nervous that gazing at this beautiful man for even one more second was going to cause the dam in my crotch to burst and I’d spew copious amounts of jism. “Do you think my arms beat…?” Charles began. “Fuck yes!” I interrupted quickly and loudly. “There isn’t anyone in any of these magazines that comes close to you Charles. I’m pretty sure no one in the world comes close.” Without opening my eyes I tossed the magazines to the floor and I heard the one in his hand fall, as well. “So will you get on this bed so we can have sex already?” “I will,” Charles answered, but I could hear some hesitation in his voice. I opened my eyes and saw that he had lowered his arm – thank God – and was standing there looking at me. “I just think I should tell you . . . I mean, I think you ought to know . . . well, you see . . . I haven’t ever had sex before.” “Fucking hell, you’re joking,” I blurted out, without thinking. I was just too surprised by what he had said. This muscled stud, perfect in every way, was a freaking virgin. That was just not possible. “No, I’m not. This is all new to me,” Charles replied with a serious face. “Do you mean sex with a man or sex in general?” I asked, still in shock. “Sex in general,” came Charles’ shy answer. I’m sure my face did not hide my amazement. I could tell that my reaction was making Charles nervous, but it didn’t matter to me at that moment. There was no way I could not react to the news that the man of my dreams, the biggest fucking muscle monster I’d ever even imagined, and the beautiful half-naked man standing in front of me right at that moment was about to have sex for the first time in his life. I started to speak a few times, but no words came out of my mouth. I was too stunned. It was one of the most confusing moments I had ever encountered. “Listen, Marshall, if this news makes a difference, I’m sorry,” Charles said, noticing that I was having trouble finding words to say how I felt. “I know my lack of experience may cause this to not be perfect, but I do still really want to be with you.” “Wait, Charles, no,” I said half-laughing. “Stop. Stop. I don’t care a bit if you’re not experienced; as a matter of fact it’s kind of a turn on. You’ve already got me so hard and ready to explode that one kiss may make me cum harder than ever before. You are everything a man could want – you’re beautiful, you’re huge, you’re kind, and, most especially, my son likes you. He likes you a lot. And so do I. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I would expect a guy that looks like you to have had everyone he ever wanted.” “I’ve only ever wanted you, Marshall,” replied Charles before I could say anything else. “Yeah, but you’ve only known me for a few hours. What about all the years leading up to today?” I asked quickly. “It’s hard to explain, Marshall. I didn’t ever really exist before I met Robby and you – not in the real sense, anyway,” he answered. “Okay, that’s either the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard or the most romantic thing ever. I’m going for the most romantic. Come here big guy.” I scooted over on the bed, propped up some pillows, and motioned for him to lie down next to me. Charles moved his huge body onto the bed. I couldn’t help but stare at his huge arms and chest once he was close to me. I forced myself to leave my desires for a few minutes and focus on what he needed. “Don’t be nervous, okay? I’ll lead you through this. I think tonight might just be the first night of the rest of your incredible sex life.” With that I leaned toward the big man, rested my right palm on his massive chest, and brought my face to his. I smiled as he closed his eyes, obviously excited and nervous about the upcoming kiss. When our lips locked I am sure he felt the same fireworks go off in his body that I did. This moment seemed like it had been coming for a lifetime. There were no words to explain how comfortable and familiar it felt kissing Charles. And by the way the muscled behemoth kissed back I was sure it wasn’t his first time doing that. As soon as he opened his mouth to welcome my exploring tongue I moved my body over on top of his. It felt like I was mounting some huge bull. Even through our clothes I could feel how hard every inch of his body was – especially the lead pipe I felt at his crotch. Charles moaned with pleasure as I started rubbing my body against his. My hands immediately explored the wide expanse of his pecs and zoomed in on his rock-hard erect nipples. As soon as I clamped down hard on those nubs of steel he opened his mouth wide in a pleasure-filled gasp. I took advantage of the moment and let my mouth move to his neck. I pressed my open lips against his skin and then sucked in hard. His entire body went rigid from the thrill of my actions. Who knows what takes over gay men when they are at the beginning of intense sex. I’ve always imagined that some kind of internal sex demon starts to control a guy’s mind and body, making him focus only on getting and giving pleasure. Even the shyest man can become an aggressive beast when he is throwing it down with another man. That’s what seemed to be happening in my bed at that moment. Suddenly the “inexperienced” Charles became a fucking sex machine and took the lead in our foreplay. In a flash I was tossed off of his big body and onto my back on the bed. Immediately his heavy, muscled body came crashing down on top of me. My breath was knocked out of me a little, but the sensation of being covered by hard beefy skin turned me on so much that I didn’t care. In what I thought was an attempt to copy what I had just done to him, Charles placed his mouth on my neck and began to kiss and suck. The force of his oral action forced my chin into the air and my head pressed further into the pillow behind me. I was so focused on the sensation at my neck that I barely realized my shirt was being unbuttoned and expertly pulled from my body. Charles used one of his strong hands to actually raise my torso off the mattress to remove the shirt completely. But the big man never stopped his masterful work with his lips and tongue. Once my shirt was discarded to the floor, I suddenly felt strong, beefy arms squeeze my body tightly. My own arms were pinned to my sides, making it impossible for me to move any part of my body – my head was held in place by Charles’ mouth, my upper body was sandwiched by two massively muscled arms, and the rest of me was being crushed by the heavy body on top of me. Usually, being unable to move at all would have driven me crazy, but right now my body was simply on fire everywhere with pleasure. An incredible feeling at my crotch abruptly made all of my attention focus there. The muscleman on top of me was rocking his hard tool up and down my own rigid cock. It didn’t take long for the motion to make the juices in my body reach a close-to-breaking point. I was so turned on by this man that I was going to shoot my load simply from some heavy foreplay. The motion at my lower body stopped right at the magical moment when your cock teeters at the brink of release or recovery – as if the man on top of me knew exactly how much action my body could take. My eyes were closed, but I could tell that Charles had pushed his upper body off of me with his huge arms. I could breathe more easily and my cock pulsed a few times before it backed away from the boiling point that had brought me so close to eruption. I did not want to miss any opportunity to gaze at or grope this man’s perfect body, so I quickly opened my eyes and raised my hands to his beefy pecs. The way Charles was pressing his body off of the mattress cause the two mounds of muscle to be pushed together, which made them harder and bulge out even more. A jolt of pleasure shot through my body as soon as my hands landed on his hot, hard flesh. I squeezed the layers of muscle above me, but Charlie quickly tensed his chest pressing my fingers out. It was like he wanted to show off the power of his muscles. I merely let my hands slide down his magnificent wall of flexed flesh and gave him pleasure when I again grabbed his protruding nipples with my fingers. I smiled at the man as I pinched hard, causing him to first gasp and then moan loudly as I twisted the solid lumps of flesh. I was amazed at how much enjoyment ran through my mind and body from the sound and sight of pleasing the giant man. I leg go of his nips and moved my hands up over his mega broad shoulders, making sure my fingers slid through the deep indentions and over the thick veins that covered them. I purposely did not let my hands drop down to Charles’ massive arms – I only stared at them as my hands rested on his shoulders. I somehow knew that if I touched the two skin-covered marble pillars at either side of my body I would spew the wad that continued to scream for release within my body. I then moved my gaze to his face because I was worried that even staring at his colossal arms might cause me to explode. Charles was looking at me with such intensity that it made me want to somehow force our bodies to become one – that’s how much I was sure we desired each other. “May I fuck you, Marshall?” he asked in a voice that was both forceful and generous at the same time. “I thought you’d never ask,” I replied smiling. A wave of immense craving filled every part of my being. My hot, tense body immediately was covered in goose bumps as I anticipated the huge man plowing me with his cock. It seemed as if I had yearned for this moment for all of my life. My ass actually began to pulse with delight, knowing that its long period of getting no action was coming to an end. I began to let my mind move quickly to different visions of how this strong man might accomplish the upcoming task. I had always dreamed of a big man standing up and fucking me, as I wrapped my legs around his waist and he supported me with his enormous arms. Another dream involved the dining room table downstairs – a big man throwing me onto its surface and ravaging my ass as his legs banged up against the heavy wood. But the dream that seemed to come back the most involved some big man not taking off my clothes and easily shoving his hard, strong dick through my blue jeans right into my waiting hole. That one always seemed to excite me the most. Somehow, in the midst of my voyage into dreams of how I wished to be fucked, I missed the fact that Charles had been able to unbutton my pants and push them down off my body. His jeans had also somehow mysteriously disappeared. He had spread my legs apart and now knelt between them. He was running his strong hands up and down my thighs – like he was inspecting the meat before he bought it. My hands had found my own hardened nipples and I was squeezing them mercilessly. Without any kind of warning, Charles slid his hands down further, grabbed my calves and lifted my legs into the air. I then felt his strong, big paws move back to the bottom of my thighs and grab them tightly. I was aware that his fingers wrapped more than halfway around my upper legs. Charles pulled my body higher and I found my body in the air as I rested on my shoulders with my neck bent so I could see upward. It didn’t hurt at all because the colossal man above me seemed to be supporting my body easily. I bent my knees and my lower legs fell on either side of the man’s body so I had a better view of what he was doing. I could see my hard cock sticking straight down like a two-by-four stretched out across my stomach. It dawned on me that if Charles pushed down on my legs hard enough he could have steered my own stiff dick into my mouth. I was not sure my back would have been able to handle it, though. I wasn’t as limber as I used to be. Charles brought his face down to my balls, opened his mouth slightly, and actually sucked them both into his mouth with one quick inhale. The warmth of his mouth and the sudden pull on my balls made my body to jerk a few times. The big man let his tongue massage his mouthful for a while and it was a sensation I had never felt before. After a few seconds he let my ball sack fall from his mouth and then he brought his mouth down to my ass crack. His warm, wet tongue slid across my asshole a few times teasingly. I moaned out loud in immense pleasure and this seemed to make the man go into overdrive in hopes of making the sound happen more. I felt the thick tip of his tongue easily break through the clenched opening of my hole, like Hercules effortlessly busting through locked doors. He slid his tongue back and forth through the opening, allowing it to escape completely a few times just so he could show off his strength by thrusting it in again. Every time it penetrated my clamped outer sphincter I would cry out in sexual bliss. I was getting more aroused than ever in my life as I thought about how his tongue was just getting me lubed for the real prize. “Fuck me, Charles, fuck me,” I cried out between my joyous roars. The sensation of his tongue in my ass continued even after I knew he had pulled out completely. He lowered my body slightly, pulled my body into him a little more, and then pressed something much larger and harder than his tongue between my ass cheeks. The tip of his steel-like dick pressed up against my warmed up anus cavity and I could feel pre-cum dripping from its slit. Even with the masterful work done by his tongue, I knew my chute was not completely ready for all of Charles’ manhood. That, however, was what gives a man the most pleasure – knowing that the big cock about to enter him is going to hurt at first, but then feel oh-so-good soon after. It felt like there was enough juice flowing from Charles’ dickhead that I would have been able to slide a fireplug into my ass, but, of course, I had underestimated the huge package being delivered by the equally huge man. I emitted an animalistic scream when Charles forced the mushroom head of his monster cock beyond the tight walls of my hole. The man showed no mercy and let the massive tip of meat just rest in the opening, stretching my rectum beyond what I ever imagined possible. My scream ended way before the pain did. I stopped when I realized that the fat dickhead inside of me was actually pulsing as it plugged my crack. I could not fathom the muscle control that must exist in man’s body to enable him to command his rod to swell and contract like what was happening within me. My astonishment caused me to forget about the intense pain and only focus on how Charles was able to thrill me in new ways. Suddenly the head was pushed past the protective sides of my hole and the pain completely went away. I was stunned. Somehow the magic work of Charles’ meaty tip helped to allow my body to move to pleasure more rapidly than ever before. “That was fucking incredible,” I whispered and I suddenly realized that our two bodies were covered in beads of sweat. Our sex, just to that point, had already thrilled both of us more than either dreamed possible. Charles only grunted in response to my comment and this sound excited me in some primal way that I didn’t understand. I could only liken it to the way a bullfighter must get thrilled when the bull cries out before charging. Adrenaline was pounding through my body as I prepared for the same kind of pounding in my ass. I knew that Charles’ immense piece of meat was going to fill me in a way that would make me curl my toes, ball my hands into painful fists, and grit my teeth so hard that my jaw would ache, but I didn’t care. I wanted to feel this man completely and that meant taking his entire shaft no matter how terrifying it seemed. I knew that opening my body so the muscleman could propel his entire organ into me would give him satisfaction beyond his wildest dreams. I might have been the guy on the bottom in this lovemaking moment, but I knew that I controlled the intensity our sexual gratification. I wanted to please this gigantic man in a way that would make him desire me for every second of the rest of his life. I wanted to seal our obvious lust for each other with something more – something supernatural and outside mortal comprehension. I froze – my mind and my body – as I unexpectedly grasped that what I wanted was for him to fall in love with me forever. I wanted him to be enough to make me never resort to magazines or dreams of other men again. I suddenly returned to everything present, Charles grunting, the slow movement of his cock being pressed into my ass, and everything else, as I understood that he was already these things for me. We were bonded in some unreal way – I knew it, even after only half a day together. It was as if I had really known him for many years and we were simply fulfilling our destiny. The awareness of his cock sliding into my body way beyond what I thought should be normal snapped me to full attention. I suddenly worried that my smaller body would not be able to accommodate his pole without doing internal damage. It was then that his bulging quads and hairy crotch meet my ass cheeks. Charles grunted louder as he pressed into my ass harder, shoving into me even more. He took a deep breath and rammed his rod as much as he could. He then froze, not breathing and having plugged me completely with his mammoth cock. He spoke in a low guttural voice that sounded inhuman and I could tell he was clenching his teeth tightly. “You are the one that is fucking unbelievable, Marshall. I want to stay right here, inside of you, forever.” His words caused me to shake a little with emotion. He realized how he had affected me and chose to not let either of us dwell on the exchange too much. He breathed out and slid his crotch backwards slowly, allowing his dick to slide through my chute. Before I could even register the enjoyment this motion caused in my body, Charles began to thrust his cock in and out of my chute quickly. At the same time he moved my legs onto his wide shoulders and pressed into me harder, causing my body to fold up like a closed lawn chair. His big hands came down to my chest and he brushed my hands away. He grabbed my pecs roughly and began to squeeze them with his strong fingers. Throughout all of this his cock was moving back and forth in my expanded anal cavity. He was letting the head of his cock hit the inside wall of my opening and then forcing it back into me deeply. Sweat was falling from the big man’s body onto my stomach and chest, mixing with my own. We were both breathing heavily and, in between, Charles was making a rumbling sound that resembled the engine of a jumbo jet. I completely forgot about Robby being asleep down the hall and began to shout like a wild man. “Fuck . . . fuck . . . oh shit, Charles . . . I’m going to shoot . . . I’m going to fucking cum,” I cried and my voice only made Charles move his cock faster and harder. “Ahhhhhhhfuckkkkkkk!!!” My body seemed to turn to stone – that’s how tense it shot. My senses quit working. My eyes were open but I saw nothing, there was just ringing in my ears, and any feeling in my body was focused in the tiny slit of what I knew was a completely purple, hard cock. Cum shot out with such force that it actually hurt my forehead when it splattered there. Hot semen streamed across my face and chest as my body convulsed like I was the victim of an exorcism. The first sensation to return to my body was an aching in my balls and my dickhead as it continued to jerk but nothing came out. That’s also when I realized that warm fluids were shooting into my ass chute and filling my insides completely. It registered that much of Charles’ cum was seeping out of my hole even as his cock plugged it – there just wasn’t enough room inside of me for the amount of juice he was shooting. My hearing came back suddenly and I became conscious of the booming, beast-like voice coming from the mouth above me. Charles’ face popped with intense veins and turned a deep red. He looked like some warrior in battle. Even as he shot his powerful load he continued to thrust his cock back and forth within me – prolonging pleasure for both of us. After what seemed like an eternity, the huge man stopped spewing and let my legs slide from his shoulders. As Charles let his body fall onto mine his cock popped from my hole, causing me to gasp one last time. Then his massive body covered me again and only the sound of our heavy breathing filled the room. We both just laid there while our bodies attempted to return to normal. I could feel the pounding of Charles’ heart even through his thickly muscled chest. It took about fifteen minutes for both of us to calm down to a place where we could move. Charles lifted his body from mine, and our skin made funny sounds where semen had made us stick together. He rolled onto his back beside me and I immediately missed the feeling of his huge body on top of me. We lay there for a few more minutes of silence. “Well, if that was your first time, I fucking look forward to you improving with practice. If that’s possible.” I laughed as I said this and I heard Charles chuckle too. “I got to tell you something, though, man. You nailed a bunch of sexual fantasies – it’s as if you were in my head or something. That was just fucking awesome.” There was only silence in the room and I was nervous Charles was asleep and had missed my compliments. I turned my head and found him looking at me. He had a strange look on his face. “I love you, Marshall,” he said bluntly. I was stunned. “Well, let’s just take it one day at a time there, mister. Most gay men fall in deep something with the first guy they have sex with.” I smiled at him in hopes that I would not offend him. His honesty and newness was invigorating, but I had been there before. I wanted to help Charles through this process and not take advantage of him. “No, Marshall,” he said with a serious tone. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I know this will be hard to understand, so please don’t say anything for a few minutes. Promise me.” I didn’t respond at first because I didn’t know where this conversation was going. “Promise me, Marshall.” “Okay, okay. I promise not to say anything for a few minutes,” I replied smiling. I watched as Charles searched for the words to tell me something. “I’ve known you for more than six years,” he said and I opened my mouth to speak. The hurt look that immediately streaked across his face made me close my lips quickly. “Oh this is so hard. You got to make sure you don’t freak out. I was sent here six years ago . . . to be Robby’s . . .well, to be Robby’s guardian angel. You see, I’m an . . . no, I used to be an angel. Three days ago I chose to become human so I could be with you, Marshall. Over these last six years I’ve fallen in love with you. I know this is hard to take in, but you got to believe me. I love you very much.” Part VII: Just Believe Charles’ serious tone, and equally serious face, scared me. I wasn’t afraid for myself exactly, but I did become aware that this man could hurt my son. Memories of the cock hardening, mind-blowing sex that had just happened instantly disappeared. So many things fell into place for me at that moment. This man had obviously been stalking my son and me for a while. He knew too much about our lives for the convenience of our chance meeting at the market to be believable. I moved into a defensive mode, but refrained from making it obvious. I did not want to make this big man angry or for him to realize I had become scared. I forced myself to speak calmly and naturally. “And how long have you been a guardian angel, Charles?” I asked. I carefully slid over to the side of the bed and sat up, turning my body to look at him – I did not want to take my eyes off of him for even a second. “Don’t Marshall . . . please don’t treat me like I’m some kind of mad man. I can take anything . . . you asking me to leave forever or you screaming at me, but I don’t want you to treat me like I’m crazy.” Charles sat up and I was amazed to see tears start sliding down his cheeks. “What did you expect, Charles,” I said, a little too loudly. “You expect me to believe that a few days ago you were an angel flying around my house with wings . . . or, I’m sorry, were you like Clarence in that film – still working on getting your wings?” We stared at each other and the room became very cold and very silent. Charles shut his eyes tightly and tried to control some emotion that was taking over his body. For a second I thought he was going to go off his rocker and attack me, even though somewhere in the back of my head I knew this man would never hurt me. I forced myself to not let that feeling overtake my mind. I stayed on the defensive, because I did not know what might come next. Charles opened his eyes and looked at me. “I’ll leave Marshall, but give me five minutes. Please. That’s all I ask for – five minutes to explain. I don’t want that time to convince you of anything, I have a feeling that’s not possible. I just want to give you some information to think about. That’s all I ask. Just five minutes, please.” Charles spoke calmly and seemed rational. I don’t know what made me trust him, but I did. I knew I would give him the five minutes, but I would not ignore how my body felt so defensive. I had to protect my son no matter what. “You have five minutes,” I said standing up and pulling on my pants quickly. I tossed his jeans and underwear to him. Charles quickly pulled them on and then grabbed his shirt, putting it on, as well. “Did you ever have an imaginary friend growing up, Marshall?” the big man asked as he stood on the other side of the bed. “What kind of question is that? I thought you were explaining.” I snapped back. “I am. I am. Just give me a second. I have a point. Anyway, I know the answer. You had an imaginary older friend called Collin. You don’t remember him, but you’ve heard your family talk about him for years. Am I right?” He looked at me as the question hung in the air. “How could you possibly know that? Have you been stalking other members of my family, too?” I asked, tensing my body. I could not believe what this guy seemed capable of. How sick a man was he? “No, I promise, Marshall. I know because I know Collin,” he answered. “Collin is . . . I mean was, imaginary!” I shouted. “Calm down Marshall, please,” Charles said quietly and it did cause some of my anger to dissipate. “Just let me explain. Every child is granted a guardian angel when they are born. They actually stay with you for your whole life – if you need them, but people don’t realize that. When you are really young you are the most innocent that you’ll ever be – except maybe on your deathbed. You are able to see your guardian angel because you are able to still believe in things beyond this world. That’s why you saw Collin until you were eight and a half. This life started taking over and you stopped needing your supposed ‘imaginary friend.’ You see children are scared of dark closets, scary trees outside of their windows, the empty space beneath their bed, and so much more. This helps them to connect with their guardian angel. Once those things don’t frighten a child, they no longer need a friend to sit in their room with them – or to play with them when they are alone. That’s why Robby’s been able to see me and talk to me. He’s still innocent – he still believes.” “Leave my son out of this,” I said through clenched teeth. “I will, I will, but let me just add that he’s the one that suggested I make the choice I did.” Charles had obviously picked up that he made me nervous because of my fear he might do something to my son. He spoke clearly and calmly to prevent me from getting angrier. “Robby knows how lost you have felt these past few years.” My face tensed and I began to speak, but Charles held up his hand. “As much as a son can know something like that, but I’ve watched you suffer, as well. Robby and I talked about it a lot. One day I told him about how I felt and he said I should become human so I could be with you. I know this is all too much to handle, but just give me a few more minutes.” Charles didn’t give me a chance to respond, he quickly continued to speak. “Think back over the last few days. Robby has told you a lot about me. One day I tied his shoes, I’m the one that fixed the tire swing at the park by shoving it into the concrete, when you got your car stuck against the tree I’m the one that lifted it away, and I’m the one that ripped the tree out of the ground and broke it into the pieces at the end of your driveway.” I took at few steps toward the doorway; I was becoming very nervous that this guy was even crazier than I thought. How insane he was to have followed me so much that he knew all of these things. It was obvious that Charles caught on to what I was doing as I inched toward the door, but he didn’t make any sudden moves. I began to doubt that I could move faster than this man, even though he was much bigger than me. I knew how powerful he was. It struck me that he might just be toying with me? “So now you are telling me that you have super strength, right?” I said, allowing a disbelieving chuckle to come at the end of the statement. “I used too. When I became human, I became normal,” he replied. “If you call that body normal,” I said, forgetting for a minute how scared and angry I was. This comment made Charles smile a little. “I’m going to just reach down and grab my shoes, Marshall. I’m going to leave now. I just want to add one last thing. I have lied to you about one thing tonight.” Charles looked at me as he slipped his shoes on. “I did have sex before this evening. It was with you the other night – remember? You thought you were fantasizing everything, but couldn’t believe how vivid it was. I was allowed one night with you while I was still an angel and that enabled me to easily sense what turned you on. How do you think I knew so much about your desires tonight? Just think back and see how similar the experiences were. I’m ready to go now, Marshall. I won’t ever bother you again, I promise. I hope you’ll come to realize how much I’ve sacrificed for you and how much I love you.” Tears were now streaming down Charles’ face and he was wiping them away as fast as they came. I stepped back a little and let him exit the room. I followed him quickly, making sure to stand in front of Robby’s door as he passed. Charles could not help but notice my actions, and this caused his body to shake a little as he fought back more tears. “Make sure you tell Robby I said goodbye. Will you do that for me, Marshall? Please,” he asked as he stepped through the front door onto the porch. His face was blotchy from crying. I actually felt sorry for the man. He had obviously hoped we could be his family, but I knew I could not have someone so delusional around my son. I was, however, not heartless. I looked at him and sighed deeply. “I will Charles. I promise,” I answered as I began to push the door closed. “Make sure you ask him about Collin,” Charles said loudly, right before I shut and locked the door. I quickly moved to one of the windows in the front room and watched as Charles walked away. His shoulders heaved greatly and I could hear his sobs through the window. I watched until he disappeared into the night and then went around to make sure all of the doors and windows to the house were locked. I kept glancing out the front window to see if the crazy man had returned. I went upstairs to Robby’s room, lifted him from his bed, and then took him to my room. I covered him with the blankets on my bed and then shut and locked my bedroom door. I contemplated calling the police, but something deep inside told me that I didn’t need to. I did, however, pick up the phone and call someone else. The phone rang a few times and finally a very groggy female voice answered, “hello.” “Hello, Miss Emma,” I said, speaking very fast. “I’m sorry to be calling so late, but it’s very important. This is Marshall, Robby’s dad. I need to ask you something and I know it will sound very crazy, but it’s so very important . . .” “He told you, didn’t he? I told him to wait, but he didn’t, did he?” she said, interrupting me. My mind started spinning as I let her words soak in. How on earth could she know what I was talking about? Then it hit me that she might somehow be involved in the entire mess, too. “Do you mean your brother, Charles? Is that who you are talking about,” I asked slowly. “He’s not technically my brother,” the voice on the line answered. “You see, Marshall, I used to be a guardian angel, too.” She paused, knowing how these words would impact me. I had to sit down on the edge of the bed. What in the fuck was going on? Did these two people have some kind of plan to do something to my son? I almost hung up, intending to call the police, but her voice stopped me. “Listen, Marshall. I know this is way too much for someone to grasp in such a short time. That’s why I told Charlie to not tell you. I became human years ago because I fell in love with a teacher that worked at the preschool for the kid I guarded. I then opened my own school, knowing that all of my kids had angels watching them, as well. I realized a few months ago that Robby had a very strong bond with his angel. He told me that Charlie was going to be his new dad. Once you’re human you no longer can see other angels, but two days ago when this guy was standing outside of the school, as I was leaving, I knew who he was before he even spoke. I tried to tell him to take it slow, even offering him a job at the school, but good old Charlie is too much in love. I was in his same shoes a few years ago, so I know how it is. Listen, Marshall, promise me two things. Promise me that you won’t call the police. I can guarantee that Charlie won’t ever contact you again unless you make the first move. I know he won’t. And secondly, promise me that you’ll tell Robby the truth. This is going to be really hard on him. Promise me, please Marshall.” Her concern for my son actually touched me, but I was too confused to allow it to end my fears about Charles and, now, her. I went into the same calm mode I had taken with the crazy man earlier. “I promise, Emma. I’m sorry to have bothered you so late. Umm, I’d like to tell you, though, that I don’t think Robby will be at your school ever again.” I hung up the phone quickly. I contemplated, again, calling the police, but decided against it. There was something deep inside of me still saying that Charles would never hurt Robby or me. I lay down beside my son on the bed and listened carefully for the sound of a window breaking or the lock on a door being picked. I fell asleep after a few minutes of listening, mostly from pure exhaustion and my deep disappointment. It seemed like only a few minutes had passed when I felt small hands shaking me and my son’s voice filled the room. “Daddy, where’s Charlie?” Robby asked. “What?” I said groggily. “Where’s Charlie?” he repeated. I was instantly awake, having remembered what had happened the night before. My body immediately went tense as I thought about how Charles had shown his true colors. I looked over and saw that the bedroom door was still shut and locked. I turned to my son. “Um, Charles had to . . . he had to leave,” I said and immediately Miss Emma’s plea that I be honest with my son popped into my head. I pushed it away, putting her in the same crazy category as Charles. “Go where?” my son persisted. I was suddenly aware of Robby’s fearful tone and I turned to face him. “Listen, Robby. The truth is that I asked Charles to leave. I don’t think he’s someone we should be friends with.” I was desperately trying to find the right way to share what had happened with my young son. “Why not?” Robby asked with a very puzzled face. “It’s hard to explain, captain. I just think Charles doesn’t always tell the truth and you know how we think that is very important.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying because here I was not telling the complete truth, as well. “Charlie always tells the truth, daddy,” he said quickly and firmly. “I don’t think so, captain.” I said in response. My son sat there and stared at me for a few seconds. “You didn’t believe him, did you dad,” Robby said quietly. “What? What do you mean, Robby?” I asked. “He told you the truth and you didn’t believe him. That’s why you made him leave.” Robby answered. “No, it’s just that I think Charles might be . . . I don’t know . . . he might be a little scary. We didn’t know him at all. It might not be good for him to be around you.” I was now trying to be as honest as possible. “Charlie’s not scary, dad. And he’s not crazy.” Robby said and his last comment caught me by surprise. “I didn’t say he was crazy,” I replied. “But I bet you thought it. I’ve known Charlie for a long time, dad, and he’s really, really good. You didn’t need to send him away,” Robby said with a very serious face. I could not believe this was my young son talking to me this way. “Well, I’m the adult, captain, and I made the decision that he had to leave,” I said, expecting that my comment would end the conversation. I turned to climb out of bed. “I’m really mad at you, dad!” my son suddenly shouted at me. I was flabbergasted – my son had never said such a thing to me. I turned to look at him and I’m sure my face was red with anger. I tried to speak calmly. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Robby, but I am your father and my decision is final.” After I spoke we sat there staring at each other. I was amazed because I had no idea what was going on inside my son’s head. I usually could easily sense all of his thought processes. His face showed nothing, but I could tell he was concentrating very hard on something. “I know you don’t believe it, dad, but Charlie’s been my friend for a really long time. Soon, I’m not going to need someone like Charlie. That’s why I gave him to you. I wanted you to be happy.” Tears began to slide down my son’s face as he spoke and I was reminded of Charles’ tears the night before. “I have Collin now, but soon he’ll go away. I just wanted you…” “What did you say, Robby?” I asked, interrupting him – something I tried to never do, but I was shocked at what he had just said. “I wanted you to be happy,” he answered innocently. “No, before that,” I said moving closer to him. “I’m not going to need Collin soon.” Robby repeated. “Who’s Collin,” I asked quickly. “My new friend, dad. He took Charlie’s place.” Robby said and I could tell he was frustrated with my questions. He still couldn’t believe that I didn’t understand him. “Where’s Collin right now, Robby,” I asked looking around the room – as if I would suddenly see a third person vaporize. “He’s in my room, dad. For gosh sakes!” Robby said. As I jumped out of my bed it registered that there was something opening in my heart and in my mind. Memories of my childhood came rushing back and my body was suddenly soothed with a warm, familiar feeling. I unlocked and opened the bedroom door quickly. I knew Robby was following me as I moved toward his room. The door was only slightly ajar and when I pushed it open my mouth fell open. There, sitting in the chair beside Robby’s bed, was my old childhood friend Collin. I instantly recognized him. He was about twenty-five years old and had golden hair. He looked at me and his face broke into a huge smile. “Hello, Marshall,” he said softly, “Long time no see.” “Holy shit,” I said out loud and Collin instantly disappeared. “Oh, you owe me a quarter, dad. You said a bad word,” Robby said poking me in the side. I turned to my son. “Did you see him?” I asked – still in complete shock. “Of course. It sure did take you a long time. You believe now, don’t you?” Robby said, but I barely heard him. I turned to leave the room. “Get your shoes Robby. Don’t worry about getting dressed. We’ve got to go find someone,” I yelled over my shoulder as I ran to my room to put on a shirt and some shoes. One thing, and one thing alone, occupied my mind. I came running back towards Robby’s room as I was pulling on a sweatshirt. “Come on, captain, we’ve got to get your shoes on and . . .” My voice stopped as soon as I came into my son’s room and found him totally dressed and his shoes tied. His hair was even combed. I stood there dumbfounded. “What? How did you . . . I mean . . . hey, your shoes are tied. Did you do that?” I said, having noticed his feet. “No, dad, Collin did.” Robby answered in a voice full of frustration at my disbelief. “Of course he did, of course he did,” I said and then bent down to grab my son in my arms. I knew I took the stairs a little too quickly, but I was a man on a mission. “Thanks, Collin,” I yelled over my shoulder. I was sure I heard a voice say, “you’re welcome” and this made me laugh as I carried my son to the car in the garage. I raised the door and backed the car out, turning around in the seat to see where I was going. When I saw the empty space where a big tree used to stand I abruptly stopped the car, put it in park, opened my door and jumped out. “Hang tight, captain, I’ll be right back,” I said over my shoulder as I walked to the back of the car. “Okay, daddy!” Robby yelled and I could hear in his voice that he was loving the fact that I was either having a nervous breakdown or the biggest eye-opening experience of my life – well, the second biggest after last night’s sex. I moved to the back bumper of the car and bent down. I ran my hand along the top of the long piece of metal. As I got near the opposite end from where I started I noticed the big, thick indention. I placed my thumb into the space. I couldn’t believe it. There, in the metal, was the perfect mark of a very large thumb. I could even see small grooves that were the bending joints of the thumb. I began to stand up, but then had another idea. I ran my fingers underneath the wide bumper, just below the thumbprint and I clearly felt the grooves of four fingers. My mind went crazy with lust and excitement. “Fuck,” I said loudly, in awe of the strength that obviously crushed and lifted my car so easily. “I heard that!” yelled Robby from the car. “That’s another quarter you owe me!” “Captain, you can have ten dollars today. I have a feeling I might be using bad language a lot!” I said as I got back in the car and put on my seatbelt. “Are you mad then, daddy?” Robby asked concerned. “No, my little man, I am in awe. I am in awe of something big and beautiful,” I said as I started down the driveway. I chose to let out a loud whistle, instead of cussing, when I noticed the chunks of tree piled up beside the road. My cock went instantly hard, as well. It thrilled me tremendously to think that a man could do that with just his hands – well, an angel. I stopped the car suddenly right before I pulled out onto the street. “What’s the matter,” Robby asked, his voice jolting me from my moment of sudden concern. “I have no idea where he would be,” I answered my son - as I looked at him in the rearview mirror. He could see the sadness in my face and, yet, he smiled broadly. “Come on dad, you know,” he said bluntly and continued to smile. I started to protest but then I realized the only place he could be. It was like a deep connection to the man was instantly revealed or, better; it was like my gay GPS system was working on overload. I looked both ways and then hit the gas pedal hard. The tires on my car squealed and Robby yelled ‘yippee’ as we flew onto the road. I tried to stay under the speed limit but it was very hard to do. I was full of excitement and incredible desire. My mind was open and clear for the first time in many years and I knew I would do anything necessary to get the man of my dreams back. As we pulled up to Robby’s favorite playground in the park I could see the figure of a huge man sitting on the very familiar tire swing. Charles’ size actually made the swing look like one of those toddler’s toys you can buy for a two year old. I honked the horn loudly, jumped out of the car, and unbuckled Robby from his car seat – then both of us started running towards the playground. “Charlie! We’re here!” Robby yelled as we ran. I could see that Charles had stood up quickly and a big smile was beaming on his face. When we reached him Robby threw his arms around the big man’s legs and, before I even realized what I was doing, I threw my arms around his upper body – but they barely made it around his broad shoulders. The three of us stayed this way for a few minutes and then Robby and I released at the same time – stepping back to look at the big man. “I was hoping you’d come,” Charles said softly to me. “I’m so sorry,” I blurted out as I began to cry, “Can you ever forgive me?” “Of course, Marshall,” the huge man said as he wiped tears from my face, “I hoped you just needed time.” “Will you guys just kiss already,” yelled Robby as he climbed onto the swing. I was no longer shocked by the boldness of my son. I realized, happily, that my boy was extremely perceptive and comfortable with himself – what more could a father ask for. I smiled at my son and then turned back to Charles. “The boss has spoken,” I said, laughing. “So there’s only one thing to do.” Charles bent down a little and I brought my lips to his. This kiss was even more powerful than those from last night. I’m sure it had something to do with the fact that I now believed in so many things that I didn’t before – like the fact that the perfect man can exist or that my son could teach me profound lessons about life. Our kiss was brief, but intense. I think we both realized we had many years of more kisses. “Somebody push me!” Robby yelled. “And how do we ask, captain?” I responded from habit. “Please, somebody push me!” Robby said laughing. “Maybe your dad, Charlie, would like to push you,” I said softly and was surprised at how the words caught in my throat. Both Charles and my son looked at me quickly. They both had the same shocked look on their face that slowly turned into a big smile. I stepped over to one of the metal poles that held the swing. I could see that Charles’ eyes were wet with tears. He started to gently push my son on the swing. “Please push me harder, Charlie-dad,” Robby said, smiling up at the big man. I was happy that my son said it so politely and I liked the sound of him calling Charlie, dad. I became a little nervous at his request, though. “Um, not too hard, Charles, please. Your new dad is a little bigger and stronger than me, remember,” I said – only slightly joking. I rested my hand high on the pole as Robby was pushed in the swing – just gazing at the two beautiful men in my life. I felt something weird about the pole and I glanced up. Sure enough, here were four fingerprints and one thumbprint perfectly smashed into the thick piece of metal. I ran my fingers over the indentions and my cock grew hard again. I stood there imagining Charles gripping the pole and slamming it into the concrete. I loved the idea that his hand could crush metal so easily. I glanced over at the big man and saw that he had noticed what I was doing. “Are you sure you can’t still be that strong?” I asked and he could tell how much the thought turned me on. “It sure would come in handy, not to mention be kind of fun. I’m just imagining all the things you could do to please me.” “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I gave all of that up for something better,” Charles said happily and he walked over to me. He bent down and put his arms around my waist. “But I’m still pretty strong, Marshall.” He easily lifted me into the air. I caught my breath as my feet left the ground. “I’m sure we could still find some things I can do to excite you!” “You’re the strongest, Charlie!” Robby said as he continued to sway back and forth on the swing. “He certainly is, Robby, he certainly is,” I said as I kissed the big man again. As our kiss ended, Charles put me down on the ground and returned to pushing Robby on the swing. I reached below my waist to rearrange my hard cock so there’d be less pressure. It was then that a disturbing thought came into my head. “Hey, Charles. You said each child gets a guardian angel for life, right. So how come Robby now has Collin. Shouldn’t he still be with me?” I thought my question was very important, but both Charles and Robby looked at me and chuckled. “You tell him, Robby,” Charles said. “You don’t need one anymore, dad. You have Charlie. He’ll keep you safe.” Robby said smiling at me. This thought sent a warm wave through my entire body. I looked at Charles and he flexed his right arm slightly as he smiled back. I knew immediately that my son was right, I had everything I needed right here at this playground. “Hey, you two. How about our little family goes out for pancakes.” I said, moving towards them. Robby threw his little arms up into the air and screamed yippee. I laughed and then looked up in time to see Charles throw his big muscular arms into the air and yell yippee, as well. There was only one thing left for me to do. I stuck my hands in the air. “Yippee!” I yelled back.

Just another warning/reminder that there's some "weird" stuff here: bodybuilders birthing bodybuilders out of their nutsacks and violent sex scenes/language/imagery. Enjoy! -------- Each time a new muscle baby had been born into the room in a pool of ejaculate they were taken backstage, shaved and tanned appropriately, for showing off during the progeny round. This round basically reflected the results of the domination round, in that it ranked competitors based on the quality of their muscle babies that had been birthed in the show. The victor of the domination round had surprisingly been Martin, who, spurred on by his defeat of the gigantic Wyman, had scored a full 119 points, having pinned down, penetrated and deposited a muscle baby in every one the evening's finalists. In second place was Wyman, who had scored 17 points with every competitor except Martin, who you remember overcame him after being unsuccessfully pinned down. The top three performing men were called out; Wyman, Martin and Chen Xiao, who had produced four muscle babies that night. They were each followed by their muscle children onto the stage, once gain dressed in the respectful black speedo that was the equivalent of black tie at these events. The muscle babes were all roughly the same height, around 7', although they would continue growing for quite a long time, with the exception of the vascular, ripped beast birthed to Wyman by Jean Marie, who having accelerated his growth at an unbelievable rate now stood sixteen feet and eight inches tall, his head touching the banner that hung from the roof of the vault. It was the first time in history that a muscle baby had exceeded its father's height in such a short space of time, and he was even larger than the dozens of Wyman's other muscle babies that sat in the audience. He had been weighed earlier at 2100 pounds, and now that the thick mainly hair had been removed from all over is body his incredible definition showed. The grooves between each of is abdominal muscles were deep enough to run a finger through and his chest was the size of a car, inflated to twice its size when he inhaled. He never stopped panting and sweating, and within minutes of his all over shaved thick patches of sweaty hair had already reformed under his massive arms that rested almost at 90 degrees due to the vast, sweeping lats that exploded from the side of his body. The hormones that Wyman fed himself in abundance had been even more strongly transmitted to his muscle baby to the end that whilst everybody else on the stage was dressed in their regulation speedo, he was fully nude as he simply never ceased to masturbate. The power of is sex drive was such that his erection was constant, and his cock so heavy that it hung down even when erect. Assistants on the stage were given instruction to constantly be pumping the huge nine foot long cock to prevent his balls from swelling up. Every two or three minutes his abdominals would begin to pulsate rhythmically and a deep moan filled the stage as two thousand litres of cum poured out of the giants balls. The scoring of this round was a foregone conclusion- the presence of this one muscle baby that had surpassed all known norms and expectations granted Wyman a certain win. Whilst Wyman's muscle babies all had the angry, fierce and chiseled face and strong rugged jaw of their father, Martin's were far more handsome and had delicate features, a small nose, long eyelashes and beautiful green eyes like him. Their body hair was very light brown and a huge tuft stuck out over their speedos. I looked forward to meeting them all and worshipping those bodies. However there was one thing I wanted that was purely for myself. Ever since seeing the massive muscle baby of Wyman's suck up the semen from the ground and grow at such a stupendous rate, I was desperate to do the same. Clearly the high-testosterone hormones in Wyman's semen had caused this, and I figured in the muscle baby’s semen the level would be even higher. The audience had dwindled to around fifteen people- the rest had exhausted themselves fucking during the domination round. So I took advantage of this opportunity to get down on the ground and drink as much of the muscle babies jizz as I could in the interval as the muscle babies were escorted off the stage. I filled my water bottle, again, and again, and again. I had drunk eight litres of the 22,000 that had been spilt, and my stomach began to bloat, enough is enough for now, I figured, and went to the bathroom. Whilst in there I encountered Jean Marie, the extremely handsome French bodybuilder who, after being almost ripped apart by Wyman's muscle baby, had birthed two more on behalf of Chen Xiao and Martin. He seemed close to passing out, but was polite and friendly, and I confided in him my theory regarding the muscle baby cum. He seemed open to the idea of ingesting some but was not lucid enough to engage in real conversation. He sat down opposite the wash basin, his massive cock and balls slumping down to the ground, weighing down their latex prison and invited me to sit next to him. My immersion into this underground bodybuilding world had only started a couple of months prior, and I was still a nube weighing only 420 pounds at 6"8, but I suspected that Jean Marie was happy for some company that was not likely to overpower and fuck him to the point of near death. He held me in his big strong arms and both our cocks rose to their full glory as we began to massage each other and slide into blissful orgasm, covering ourselves in gallons of hot creamy seed. He licked some from the tip of my cock as it continued to pour out, his rugged facial hair becoming matted in my sticky man juice. As we rested for a moment, Mustafa ran into the bathroom, totally unsurprised by what he saw to inform us that Wyman's big muscle baby had begun to spasm uncontrollably after having gown to beyond thirty feet tall, weighing in at 6430 pounds and that he had had to be tranquilised with drugs intended for whales. He was effectively dead now, as without consciousness there was no way for him to recover from this state. Mustafa ran out as he had taken it upon himself to spread this very unusual news. I smiled and began to laugh, and Jean Marie asked me why I was so amused. "You see, the muscle baby you birthed is now dead, and the only person who consumed his cum, full of those magical growth hormones, before it was too late, is me! My hormone makeup is changing as we speak, I can feel it, and I'm going to become the biggest man that ever lived! Let's go see what's happening to that baby!" I said, grabbing the Frenchman’s hand and running out of the bathroom.

Took me forever but I finally finished another chapter of this old story. Problem is, when I thought of it, I didn't expect there to be so much for a new chapter. Oh well. Comments are appreciated. Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1510-belly-down/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1525-belly-down-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1530-belly-down-part-3/ Part 4 Casey shuffled in his sleep as the night progressed. He wasn’t conscious enough to be frustrated that he wasn’t sleeping with his phone music playing in his ears. He was still coming to and hearing something nearby. Thump……grunt……thump……..grunt……thump……grunt…. Casey pulled his eyelids up in a squint as he looked up at the ceiling of the athletic dorm with his nose wrinkled and his brow furled. “Wha….” he grumbled as he could hear the sound a little better. Thump……grunt……thump…..grunt…..thump….. Casey looked over to his roommate, Kenny’s bed and concentrated into the darkness to find his bed empty. Rubbing his eyes a little, Casey over again and thought he saw something move and duck under the bed. He went silent and his senses peaked a little as thought that, for a moment, there was another creature besides he and his roommate in the room. Every few seconds, something went up into view slightly before quickly ducking back down. Casey sat up a little, expecting a mouse or a lost wild animal but, rather than that, he found something a bit stranger. The timing of the floor thumping and the grunt were in a perfect rhythm that didn’t slow down as Kenny proceeded to do pushups on the floor. Casey was wide eyed looking at what must have been a familiar red head doing pushups on the floor. Kenny was glistening in the moonlight as he dripped sweat from head to toe. Kenny was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs that were clinging to his body as they were the only thing he was wearing. Casey was unsure how to react as he saw Kenny lift himself up and down at a steady pace for more than the entire 2 minutes Casey had watched trying to figure out how to respond. “Kenny?” Casey finally asked after realizing that Kenny might not finish doing push ups at the speed he was going. Kenny was in a zone of his own, taking deep breaths and grunting without hearing Casey. Casey started to snap into Kenny’s ear as he’d proceeded to return to an upward position. It was only then that Kenny stopped and realized he was no longer the only one in the room conscious. Quickly, he sat up as if he hadn’t just done n uncounted number of push ups and quickly went over to his gym shorts and shirt in an attempt to quickly cover himself. “Casey! Shit! I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep!” “I was but then I heard noises. Were you just exercising, buddy?” Kenny was silent for a moment as though he were weighing the odds that he could get away with pretending that he wasn’t just trying to push the floor down. He sat down on his bed and crossed his legs, pressing his hands on each calf. “Yeah….” Casey could see that Kenny was having trouble figuring how to handle the situation and smiled a bit. “You don’t have to be shy” he said. “Once in a while, exercise works fucking magic to get you to sleep.” He was relieved to see Kenny become less red with that comment. Casey propped himself up on an arm and scratched through his bed head. Kenny looked up and his cheeks reddened some at the sight of Casey waking up in his shirtless state with his muscles bulging in the light with his beautifully shining hair.. “You’re really full of energy, huh?” Casey asked. Kenny nodded. “I couldn’t sleep cause I felt like I’d end up beating my head against my pillow. I can’t figure out why I’m so wired.” “Did push ups help?” Kenny looked down as though he were ashamed, which Casey thought was cute. “I’ve been doing them for a while.” “How long?” Kenny didn’t respond this time. Casey got the hint that they were still not close enough for him to speak the truth clearly. Casey yawned, covering his mouth, and shrugged. “Don’t be ashamed just because I’m here, man. I’m sure you’re still glowing after killing the competition yesterday AND killing your weights. You worked hard to break your PA.” Kenny didn’t respond again but that was the perfect opening for a voice to ring in his head. You definitely worked but you're not tired are you, came a voice. Kenny tightened his grip on his calves as he heard Nick awaken within his mind. Casey continued to speak. “Just be sure not to tucker the shit out of yourself, OK? I got work tomorrow so you’re on your own getting a ride to class. Maybe you can get a ride from Tex?” Kenny looked at the ground as if contemplating what to do but he couldn’t hear his own thoughts with Nick speaking. Tex? Oh, I didn’t know you kept some side beef on the side. You’ve already got a beef cake right in front of you. You hungry boys and your appetites. Kenny spoke under his breath without thinking. “He’s not beef. He’s Tex.” “What?” Casey said, hearing Kenny say something out of earshot. Kenny looked up and scrambled what to say. “I said….um….we’ve got beef. He’s been really shady lately.” Nice save, Nick said. “Kenny, we both know that if Joe is in a bad mood, it just means he’s having a great day. When do you not expect him to act that way?” Casey asked. Hmmm, interesting, said Nick. Kenny was having trouble keeping up on his points in the conversation to speak with Nick talking. Oh, I’m intruding on your ‘private’ conversation, huh? “I’ll call him in the morning and see if he’s free” Kenny said to Casey reassuringly. Casey turned in his bed, facing away from Kenny and prepared for sleep before stopping to turn his head. “Oh, and you can use my pull up bar if you need to. It definitely puts me to sleep when I’ve got insomnia kicking my ass.” With that, Casey turned fully away and, after a few minutes, was back to slowly purring in his sleep. Kenny looked at his beautiful back for a few minutes. Umph, you could use that thing to watch a movie on, Nick joked. Kenny got a bit mad at that. “Pervert.” Oh, don’t tell me you don’t want it, Nick said. Kenny didn’t get to respond before Nick came back with another strike at his shell. Oh, I see. You don’t just want that. You want your own, don’t you? Kenny stood up abruptly and went to one of their dorm closet to pull out Kenny’s pull up bar. He ignored the laughing as he attached it to the bathroom doorframe. Even when inside your head, you don’t cease to interest me. We’ll see if we can wrap some of him up for your birthday. Kenny was completely silent and unresponsive as he grabbed the bar and struggled with his first pull up before catching up to a steady and modest speed. The entire time, he couldn’t control the hard and dripping cock that was fighting with his waistband on the way up and down. --- Kenny was impatient as he waited outside the athletic dorms for his friend. “Leave it to Tex to come when he’s ready.” Kenny was wearing one of his largest t-shirts underneath his jacket. It was a little chilly this morning as he tried to keep himself warm and it didn’t help his clothes felt wrong. The sleeves he wore were slightly higher and had shown just a bit more arm than he usually preffered (which was normally just the forearm and outward). Kenny’s jeans were snug and felt like they were leaving his ankles defenseless since he wasn’t wearing long socks and his shoes felt like they fit perfectly, so perfectly that he could feel both ends and moving his toes was now a bit difficult. Kenny’s bag on his back felt a little light but it made sense since the class for today was going to be so short. He’d been waiting outside for atleast 30 minutes waiting before a silver car came around the corner and parked in front of Kenny like a cab that was always punctual. The door on the passenger side opened but Kenny wasn’t pleased. “Come on, princess. We haven’t got all day” came the voice from inside the car on the driver seat. Kenny got in roughly, threw his bag in the back seat and slammed the door shut. “Don’t dent my fucking car!” said Tex as he glared at his passenger. Kenny glared back. “Where were you?!” Kenny said angrily as he buckled his seat. Tex pulled off without a hitch and turned to glare at Kenny’s blue eyes with his own. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? You’re getting a ride from ME. In this car, I’m the only fucking person whose shouting!” exclaimed Joe. Kenny didn’t argue as he looked out the passenger side window. He couldn’t look at Tex and be angry when he was as hot as he was. “I don’t need you fucking pissing me off after Geoffrey just broke up with me!” Kenny rolled his eyes. “Again?” Silence pulled Kenny’s attention to look back at Joe’s face. Already his anger was gone looking at that beautiful face as it drifted off into the road they were on. Tex was a really handsome guy when he wasn’t angry or testy. He had a cleft chin that was molded well with his solft yet firm looking skin as the early showings of a blonde beard were showing across his well crafted chin and his high cheekbones. His manly brow and perfect length blonde eye lashes were like a shield to protect his glistening eyes that shone like the deepest parts of the ocean. Tex was wearing a black windbreaker for a jacket that was doing little to hide his muscles as he drove and his arm muscles would press against the adjustable fabric. Ken could only assume he would only have met someone like Tex face to face thanks to Casey, who was close friends with the school powerlifting team. Tex was one of the largest at over 250 pounds and looking like he had the muscles to bench press with just his neck! Tex made a solid cut at somewhere around 10% body fat and atleast 6’3. His muscles rubbed against each other with some movements because he was so well built which made him just that much harder to contain himself near Tex. It was miracle he was gay but it was a bit of a let down for Kenny that they hated each other and that Tex was in an on-and-off relationship with his boyfriend. Kenny knew that he’d have to face this but he didn’t want to do so with Nick near. That’s hurtful! Nick said with a mock voice that sounded like he was pouting. Kenny ignored him and tried to talk to Tex. “It’s ok. You two will patch up.” “Who said I want us to fucking patch up, asshole?” Tex struck back. Kenny was silent for a moment. You’re really letting this happen, huh? Nick said. Kenny bit his lip as he tried to block out Nick so that he wouldn’t notice his hard-on growing in his snug briefs to no avail. Oh, now I’m caught up. Those within the car didn’t speak for the rest of the trip. When Kenny got out, Tex finally spoke. “I’m not giving you a ride home too. Good luck.” As he drove off, Kenny felt a little stranded as he stood there alone amongst other people heading into the building he was heading to. With reluctance, he headed for the building with his mind in the distance and his feet moving themselves. --- The class ended after a 40 minute lecture from Kenny’s professor. The entire way, Kenny had been doing everything in his power to take notes, stop from thinking about Tex, AND distract Nick from scrambling his train of thought. Distract me? What do you think I am? You can’t hypnotize me with a song like a garden variety snake, Nick said with a huff. Kenny was passing around the corner and heading for the entrance when suddenly he felt warm. VERY warm. Oh good. The delivery's here! Nick said with a laugh. Kenny suddenly panicked and tried to avert the gazes of others as he headed for the bathroom with ‘growing problem’. By the time he’d made it to the bathroom mirror, Kenny had already locked the door, barricaded it with a trash can and was splashing cold water in his face. FINALLY. I was getting sick of you thinking about how thirsty you were during that dry fucking lecture. Kenny looked in the mirror to see his face being moved by someone else with his face but owning red eyes. “What the hell are you doing now?!” Ha! I’m not doing anything. You’re the one drawing the gun, quick dick. You think I didn’t see those images of you watching your friend Tex squatting while you were trying to distract me with that crap about some crappy news you heard on TV this morning? Please, that’s insulting. Kenny was now hunched over and clenching the sink as he looked down and witnessed his 8 inch boner pushing against the crotch in his pants. “What do you mean?” he groaned as he fell to his knees and unbuckled his belt. You didn’t think there were side-effects to all this new size and strength? You're pumping a new level of hormones that you’ve never experienced before. Isn’t that obvious? You’re in a fucking biochemistry class, Kenny. Kenny was on his knees and fighting with his zipper as his cock pushed against the fabric like a caged animal. You’re also getting a mix of what it means to really make a contract with me. Just pretend this is like having a panic attack. Well…. except that you’re pumping cum instead and that you’re panicking because you’re horny as fuck. Kenny struggled to fight this sudden urge as he finally got his zipper unlocked and watched as it bounced out of his pants and stuck straight out from his groin. “No…. stop..” Ok, so that’s getting old. You’ve been fighting the urge to cum all day. That’s not healthy with your new body. I’m surprised your dick hasn’t fallen off or your balls haven’t exploded, quick draw. You’re a man (a growing one anyway). You can’t hide all this pleasure or you’re going to either explode in a cloud of cum or have the bluest balls at the ball, my friend. “Shut up! I’m not afraid to cum!” Says the one who spoke to Casey the beef cake and Tex the New York steak without so much as a trip to the nearest bathroom. Something like this is key if you really want me to keep my end of the bargain. “But—“ “Your butt doesn’t apply here. I’m talking about the growing spear sticking out of your pants” said Nick. Nick was now behind Kenny and rubbing his shoulders. “You’re so stressed with all this bullying and bad friendship and school and wrestling. You’re going to suck at all of them if you don’t rub one out here. Everyone needs a little pampering, right?” Kenny was now on the ground grunting and fighting his pre cum dripping cock as he lay, hunched over. “Ugh, you need me to help you with everything” Nick concluded as he stopped rubbing and suddenly grabbed Kenny under the arms and lifted him up. Kenny had no time to protest as he watched himself in the mirror drag him backwards into the outer wall of the stalls in the bathroom. “While you were dreaming up the latest Spongebob episode to keep me busy, I dug a little deeper and found one of your fantasies.” With no restraint, Nick wrapped both arms around Kenny’s torso and got to work. Suddenly, Kenny had his ass pressed against Nick’s own 7 inch cock as he grinded him and had one hand on his cock and the other on his left nipple. “You’ve never told one you have sensitive nipples have you?” Nick asked as he had a hand dipped under Kenny’s shirt and began rubbing up the nipple in his hand and lightly played with it. His other hand was going to work on Kenny’s cock as he tugged on the modest yet reddened cock. “Oh fuck. I think I’ve found your weak spot” Nick said as he leaned forward a bit and nippled on Kenny’s ear. Kenny groaned with his eyes forced shut as he tried to keep under control in a losing battle. “Stop resisting. You don’t have to hide being horny. You’re gay with jock friends everywhere you look. Even in that mirror there.” Kenny opened his eyes slowly to see that he was in the reflection of the mirror with Nick behind him. Nick’s red eyes were noticeable but Kenny’s attention slowly went to his lifted shirt and then to the muscle he could see in his pants. His clothes looked a bit tighter than before and so some decent thighs were visible against the light fabric he wore. Kenny was grinning as Nick noticed how muscular his torso was now with the two pecs above a defined 6 pack of abs. The pale skin made Kenny’s muscles look like marble as he tightened different ones with every pull of his cock and twist of his nipple. Kenny’s grunts sounded less restrained as he began to get off on himself. “There we go. That’s better. Just let it all out. Give up one good blow and you’ll feel better. Just….one….more…..FUCK!” With a tightening of Nick and Kenny’s muscles, Kenny’s cock launched a white wad of thick cream up and out at the mirror a good distance away. For the next 6 shots, Kenny was pumping come from his sizeable balls that hit the mirror at a downward angle before he began to slowly lose the force behind it. Kenny was exhausted as he slumped on the bathroom stalls by himself, his cock dripping and a somewhat noticeable trail of cum went from the mirror back to him. Nick chuckled a little as he viewed his handiwork from within Kenny’s mind. That’s better. Feels good right? There’s more where that came from. To Be Continued….

Tales of a Lust Mage #2 By ROBOPROBO SUB TAGS: Magic, Basic Growth, Height, Combat, Characters (Bradley, Xaekus, Rafael, Alice), The following work of fiction portrays fictional characters in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. Author note: I feel there is much more plot in this installment than there was in the last. I do apologize if this feels like fluff. I DO split up the stories in parts, so if you feel you don't need too much plot, head over to Part 2, about halfway through the story. The sexy things start happening there. I un-officially will be using 'sub' tags so you know what will be involved in each story. TALE II Part 1 – Mortals and the Gazes of a Magician Rafael was a pretty boring, average eighteen year-old. As he mopped the floors of the shop he worked at, he pondered what he'd be doing for another year in this town. He was excited to go to his dream university but -due to his father's illness- he'd deferred his attending date for another year. He'd come to terms with how things were going, and figured at least it'd be another year before he reached full solitude. Rafael wiped the counters of the yogurt shop’s registers. The tiny little shop was called ‘Leche Lucy’ and was owned by an old family friend (Lucy). She had known Rafael since childhood and was considered a ‘godmother’- she gave him a job for the next few months while he took care of his dad. For now Rafael took a few classes at the local community college and worked part time here. Things were pretty calm in his life so far, if not somber. Recently Rafael began working out a lot more. He had enough time to do so and liked the ability to excel in a physical activity. In school he wasn’t very coordinated and he never made the teams for any sports. He’d tried out for wrestling, soccer, football, tennis; all in vain. He’d been a late bloomer and he happened to be a year younger than all his classmates, giving him a very large disadvantage in the physical department. Now that he was a year and some months out of school he felt capable of at least weight lifting appropriately, and hopefully athletically in the future. Because Rafael often worked alone in the store, he found himself wandering mentally about everything. School, work, and so far- fitness. He’d started dieting these last few weeks and certainly noticed some good changes. Changing your lifestyle so drastically always made you think about it constantly, but he was finally getting used to it for the most part. Rafael wished it hadn’t poured today- business had gotten really bad in the last few hours. It made him anxious enough to clean the shop twice. Now he had nothing to do. He stood inside the kitchen and decided to rearrange some things. The young man could even practice his squats a little as he picked up large tubs of flavoring and yogurt ingredients. He liked to feel his muscles ask for more oxygen, even if it were more warm-up than work-out. A few minutes went by of him moving boxes and tubs of different things before he heard the bells on the door signal the entry of a customer. Rafael almost groaned as he had just started to pick up a sweat (he’d started counting how quickly he could move a certain amount of things at a time, sort of like reps). “At least some people are not so afraid of the rain,” Rafael whispered to himself. The shopping was not one large building but rather many shops linked to roads. The mall was indeed big but fell prey to the weather’s mercy. Rafael swallowed his breath before he could finish his thought. His eyes were looking downward, so he’d gotten fairly close before experiencing the sight visually. There stood a tall, wet guy in the shop. Rafael tried to not let the intimidation shake him as it often did when there were attractive people in his vicinity (men or women). This guy though- this guy was on a different plane. The guy wore what seemed to be a blue pair of slacks, but really expensive looking ones- perfectly shaped to his fairly muscular frame. Rafael’s eyes had already gotten to curious by instinct before he could look away. They noticed this guy had no jacket on, simply a white shirt and red tie. Rafael had immediately begun holding his breath as he knew that this man had been drenched. This meant his physique was certainly seeable through said white shirt. Often, Rafael felt jealous when people like this man were around. They were perfect –and even if they worked for it- he always felt inadequate around them. He tried not to look and finally noticed his breath was still on hold. He almost gasped as he remembered to breathe. Time seemed to go far too slow as everything felt awkward. “Can I help you?” Rafael said in an octave higher than his usual voice. The man wasn’t looking at Rafael and turned his head away from the outside windows to greet him. “Oh. I was caught in the rain. My umbrella broke.” Said the wet man flatly. “That sucks. What were you looking for, exactly?” Rafael tried to say. Rafael could feel the guy seek eye contact, almost menacingly, like an animal that could roar anything into submission. Rafael couldn’t help but be pulled in to the man’s gaze as he learned his name. “I’m Bradley. I’m new in town and I figured I could just check out the shops. Weather came down and greeted me with open arms.” As he said this, Rafael couldn’t help but swallow his tongue. Bradley was fairly tall and carried a wide pair of shoulders. His black hair had gotten wet and curled over his forehead. Rafael could not prevent the man’s brown eyes snare. His brow was intense- like an action hero, shooting his eyes at Rafael forever. That’s what it felt like, but looking back Rafael knew it must have been an awkward minute. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Bradley said. Rafael returned to Earth and coughed, “Yeah, yeah it’s over there on the wall, I mean, by the wall! I mean.” Bradley laughed and looked at the puddle that was under him. He didn’t seem to mind that his chiseled abs and pectorals clung to his wet white shirt. He simply looked back up to Rafael and said, “I’m so sorry about the mess, should I run to the bathroom?” You could get shirtless, it would keep the dripping at bay and you’re basically shirtless anyway, thought Rafael. Bradley immediately began unbuttoning his shirt. Rafael almost jumped back at the feeling that his mind was being read. “Something wrong?” asked Bradley, pulling off the soaked shirt. His skin’s muscular ridges glistened with droplets of water. “What? No-“ “I just thought it’d make more sense to not drip all over the place,” Bradley said, placing the shirt on the ground. “You’re not uncomfortable, are you? We’re just guys.” “No, of course not, I don’t care!” Rafael almost yelled from anxiety. “I’ll go get you some towels or something!” He said, stumbling about. Who was this guy?! Was he a model? What was he doing in boring Tripole?! Bradley dried his hair with both hands, seemingly showing off his well-developed triceps and v-shaping lats. Rafael tried to not look. Luckily he was accustoming himself to speaking normally. Bradley looked at him and asked, “I didn’t catch your name.” Rafael observed his facial features as he said this. Bradley carried a prominent brow- it made his eyes intense, aside from his stiff demeanor. The young man –by Rafael’s guess, twenty-one, maybe twenty-five- carried well-groomed facial hair that matched his now waving brown locks. His skin was fair, almost pale but lively still. His face was longer than it was square, making his general visage look more slender than muscular at first glance. “I’m Rafael.” The shopkeeper responded. “Call me Brad.” Rafael almost smiled out of instinct as Bradley talked to him. Rafael was interested in this stylish, athletic person (as there seemed to be few and far between in Tripole). Rafael never really thought about sexual attraction as much as he pondered what was beautiful and what wasn’t. Bradley made him more afraid than sexually interested, if anything. Rafael didn’t think himself gay, either. “It’s a good thing I brought some clothes with me,” Bradley said, “I heard it might storm terribly today so I used my weather-proof backpack.” “Backpack?” Rafael asked, seeing Bradley open an orange pack. Bradley did not respond. Rafael could have sworn the guy walked in without anything on him, but whatever. There was no point in asking. “Mind if I change in your bathroom?” Bradley said. “No, it’s basically public to customers.” Rafael said. He quickly wanted to take back what he stated- knowing it sounded a bit rude. “Oh, I don’t even know what this shop is. I’ll get something, then. You sell yogurt?” Bradley asked. It either seemed that Bradley smiled sparingly or he was not very amused. “Y-yeah, ah, all these different machines have a different flavor. I can give you a sample of each, if you like. You seem pretty fit, are you interested in some fat-free pineapple yogurt? It’s my current favorite.” Rafael rambled. He gulped at the realization. “Yes. That sounds like a good idea. Are you interested in fitness?” Bradley said. It seemed Bradley blinked little. He was always observing, from what Rafael could tell. Observing from far away. Rafael grabbed a tiny sample cup and let Bradley taste. Bradley licked the top and looked at him. There was no reaction. “Did you like it?” Rafael asked. He was starting to get nervous again. “I’ll take four ounces.” “Right away, here, just take this cup and you can add things from the bar over here. Fruits, candy. Whatever you’re into.” Rafael said, with relief. “Oh, so I don’t really order. That’s a pretty clever idea. Do I pay by weight? Flavors?” “Weight. Sorry, I should probably explain everything.” “I think I can keep up.” Rafael kept worrying that Bradley was unamused or offended. He walked awkwardly around the bar to the register. “Add your toppings, and we’ll weigh it for your total price.” And so, Bradley got a small cup of yogurt. “May I go change now?” Bradley asked. “Sorry, I didn’t really mean you had to buy something or you couldn’t use the bathroom. That probably sounded kind of rude.” Bradley was tasting the yogurt. He actually closed his eyes for a long time- maybe to savor the yogurt and do nothing else. “Oh, this is really good. I’m glad I walked in here and not some fast-food trough.” Bradley said, moving his spoon around in the cup. He lifted the spoon and looked over at Rafael. “I am having a bad week, I thoroughly enjoy all these little shops usually, just haven’t had the chance to really-” He was saying, before dripping some yogurt onto his chest. He looked down. Pineapple yogurt dribbled down his dense pectoral. He looked up at Rafael- whom was staring. “Well, are you going to lick it off? Or do you want to wait for it to slide onto my nipple?” asked Bradley, indeed seriously. He was still shirtless. “What?!” yelled Rafael. His face flushed. “Hmm? I said, ‘is this a family owned business?’” Bradley repeated. He grabbed a napkin and cleaned off the spill. Rafael scratched his head. “Yeah, sorry, I misheard… Yes, well, technically. I call the owner my Grandma, but she isn’t, really. Her son and daughter take care of the store, but they just opened another down south at another mall, so they really don’t get here often. They hired someone else for the weekends, but that’s basically the only time there’s someone else besides me here. I came in early today because a lot of chores needed to be done. I even though of closing, but.” Rafael tried looking out the window. He felt uncomfortable. Was he interested in this Bradley character? “I’ll be right back, going to change.” Bradley said, grabbing his backpack and walking off to the bathroom. He came back out wearing a tight green tank top and blue shorts. He seemed ready for a work-out or a day at the beach. Somewhere somebody could enjoy his physique. The clothes seemed small for him; made his musculature look even bigger than the wet slacks and shirt. “So, do you work out, Rafael?” Bradley asked. “Yeah, I try to. Been trying to gain weight. Well, muscle.” Rafael tried to say, jokingly. His progress was still not too much to show off with. “Oh. You only work here? School?” Bradley said, slowly sitting in a big round chair. Clarisse, Gram Lucy’s daughter, had funded a new ‘look’ for the shop so it would resemble a modern café. There seemed to be a giant void around Bradley. Maybe it was just how Rafael felt. “I have two classes, both at different store hours. I don’t really need to miss work.” Rafael said. He had a habit of rubbing his fingers into his hands away from view when he was nervous. His hands were at his sides, behind the counter. “Oh. I see.” Bradley said, quietly. His eyes seemed to stare down Rafael, who was ironically standing up. “What else do you want to tell me, Rafael?” Bradley said slowly. Rafael opened his mouth before thinking and quickly spouted out everything that followed. “Well, my father is dying and I know it and it’s been causing so much turmoil in the house. My Gram is such a nice woman but I know she doesn’t know how to help more so than making my father and I feel like family. I’m not skilled enough to do anything and even though I got accepted to the university I’ve wanted to go to since forever I doubt I’ll become a good sociologist because people don’t even know what sociology is and I’m a hug nerd that somehow got to talk to one of the cool people. You’re one of the cool people- you’re some really buff cool dude from who-knows-where and you somehow ended up in the terribly normal Tripole, where no cool people ever stay and I find you extremely intimidating; so much so that I’m questioning my sexuality because I kind of want to be your friend just to see what exactly it is I’m feeling. I also feel so shallow because you’re pretty interesting as a person on your own, without being so cool and buff and attractive.” “So you don’t always get this nervous around attractive, muscular men?” Bradley said, letting his tongue reach out for the spoon slowly. “I don’t, what-” Rafael tried to cough up as his face went rose red. What just happened?! “You have bad hearing. I said, ‘Do you research a lot of fitness? Bodybuilding, and the like?” Rafael looked around the room; what was happening to him today? Did he have a lack of oxygen? Was he hallucinating? “Oh! Ah, sorry, I. I do, I’ve started trying to eat enough macro-nutrients to obtain my goals. Kind of hard, but slowly.” He said, trying to calm down. After some talk about lifting, Rafael said something awful. “Sometime maybe I can have a physique like yours.” He swallowed his tongue immediately after his brain registered how awkward he sounded, only to become surprised at his new acquaintance’s expression. Bradley’s lips pursed. They almost curled at the ends –upward- as if to hide a smile. Rafael almost smiled too, were it not for his unease. “You like this physique?” Bradley said, returning to his almost monotone voice. He flexed his arms by placing his hands behind his head, elbows pointing upward. His lats spread out like wings. They squeezed his well-defined pectorals- whom were peeking out of the tiny tank top. Rafael felt his chest squeeze as well, but from a loss of air. “W-well yeah! I mean, not to sound weird, but you have a great body. I know you probably worked really hard for it, so I won’t be rude, but I’m pretty jealous.” Rafael said, laughing. He felt like he could say anything right now. Bradley had told him about his old home in New York, work with a law firm, and school education. They were almost friends, right? “Well,” Bradley said, looking down at his expensive-looking ring. “I wouldn’t say I ‘worked’ hard for it. I don’t really deserve it, I just happened to be at the right place at the right time. I’m actually trying to slender down. I have a few persons to blame.” Xaekus sneezed as he filed paperwork into cabinets back at home. He was having a hard time not following his master around. He at least wanted to yell at Bradley for not faxing all paperwork properly (the printer jammed). “Oh, you mean, like your genetics? Lucky you.” Rafael said. Bradley almost smiled again. “Do you have a training partner?” he asked. He tossed the yogurt cup away. “No, I don’t really.” Rafael said before stopping his sentence. “You don’t really? You don’t really training partner?” Bradley asked. “I don’t really have any friends.” Rafael said, sheepishly. “Oh. Well, if you ever want to work out, I’m new here too so I need a good spotter. Would you be interested?” Bradley asked. “Yes!” Rafael said loudly. He swallowed his tongue as he tried to gain composure quickly after. “Here, this is my office number. I’ve got to get going since the rain has dwindled- need to pick up some groceries.” Bradley said. He put on his backpack and picked up the wet bag Rafael had given him. “Call that number to set up an appointment with my secretary. I’ll see you Thursday, that’s the next workout day for me.” Bradley said, walking out of the store. Rafael looked down at the business card- it looked so fancy. It was an ivory, thick paper with shining ‘gold’ leaf. It looked like it belonged in an old movie about business men and CEOs. The words were made up of small, intricate script. Apparently, Bradley owned his own ‘multi-level consulting service’, whatever that meant. Was Bradley a lawyer? Rafael stared at the card, wondering who exactly he had just talked to. ___________________________________ Thursday came and Rafael found himself inside the gym. It was early in the morning, before the yogurt shop was to open, and Rafael had nothing else to do. He was almost excited but feared how much he’d drag down Bradley- if he were to come at all. The voice on the phone sounded really annoyed to hear about having to set up an appointment, Rafael wanted to tell them it was okay not to. “No, you already called, we don’t want all my time to go to waste,” said the secretary on the line. Rafael thought his name might be ‘Xak’, by what Bradley had mentioned of his employees. “Ah, I really mean it, if it’s too much of a bother, I can tell Bradley,” “Excuse me, I think you mean ‘Mr. Rourke’. If you have no professional business with him, I would suggest you use his professional name, at least. Thank you. I’ve set up the appointment for 9 A.M. sharp. Do not be late.” The voice on the other side said quickly before hanging up. And so, Rafael found himself inside the gym. It was raining hard again so he’d gone inside. Someone asked if he needed help with anything and he told them he was waiting on a friend. Rafael began to fret as the clock struck nine. He looked to the door to see Bradley walking in with a large black umbrella folding in his hands. Bradley wore a black suit today to match. His silver sunglasses made him look distant as he put the umbrella away in his leather gym bag. Rafael looked down at his baggy sweatpants and grey shirt with a frown. “He’s with me,” Bradley said, handing the attendant his badge. She blushed. He was so commanding, somehow without a direct word. “Do you need workout clothes? I brought an extra set, in case.” Bradley said, walking to through the locker room. “Well, I think what I’m wearing works?” Rafael asked. “Nonsense, you can’t see any of your physique in that. You need the motivation of seeing your body pumping new growth, or you’ll get slow results.” Bradley said, unbuttoning his shirt and placing it on a hanger with its jacket. Rafael tried to look away. He looked at the clothing Bradley had set down. A cerulean V-neck and black shorts were folded neatly. Rafael picked them up and saw tags still on them. New clothes? Rafael thought. They looked expensive, too. Brands he’d never heard of. “Relax, I didn’t buy those for you,” chuckled Bradley. He seemed to know what Rafael was thinking. He chuckled. “Ah, but they’re about my size.” Said Rafael. “Because I got those in the past- I forgot about them, but they were for my size.” Brad said. “Oh.” Answered Rafael. Bradley was once a normal size. Today was predominantly leg day. Bradley spotted Rafael. Rafael knew that workouts were sacred, so he tried pushing aside his anxiety to later. It was difficult, as Bradley tended to spot real close. Sometimes Bradley’s chest would touch Rafael, or Rafael could feel the static between their clothes. An exaggeration, but Rafael felt that way. Brad’s form was almost perfect. He swayed a bit when the weight racked. Rafael tried to help as much as possible. Bradley didn’t focus much in weight but seemed to push out tons of reps. Rafael found himself trying to keep up and sometimes bumping into Bradley. The quiet athlete said nothing. Rafael couldn’t help but wonder what it’d feel to touch Brad’s big, meaty legs. They stretched the fabric of his shorts with every squat. Brad looked like he pumped up quickly, his quads seeming to push his shorts out every exercise or so. Rafael thought maybe all bodybuilders (or whatever Bradley considered himself as) got this way when lifting. And so, Rafael worked hard. At the end he found himself exhausted and drenched in sweat. He huffed, upset that Bradley had mostly just-started breathing heavily most of the time. “Sorry if I drag down your workout, Bradley.” Rafael said, as they were changing. The gym was small and had no showers. “This town needs more gyms.” Brad said, showing off his chiseled abdomen. He put on a loose sweater. He looked tired too. “Also, just call me Brad.” He added. “Oh. Okay.” Rafael answered. Bradley and Rafael went to the lobby. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around, or whatever?” asked Rafael. “If you like, you can work out with me anytime. I’m not trying to gain mass, so we can go ahead and workout light until you’ve reached my ‘level’ of expertise. Just call Xak again, he’ll take care of you.” Bradley said, putting on his watch and rings. “Oh, that guy… Sure.” Rafael tried to laugh. “What, was he trouble?” Bradley asked. “Oh no! Sorry no, he seemed pretty cool.” Rafael eased. “Hmm. Is that so?” Bradley said, “Well, I’ll see you, training partner.” He raised his hand out for a handshake. Rafael smiled and clasped the hand. “Ouch!” Rafael yelped. He pulled his hand to see a small red dot on his hand. “Oh. Sorry, I forget this ring has a jag. I should toss this thing, but it was a gift.” Brad said, “Do you want to get a band aid or something?” “No, I’m fine, it’s not that bad. I’ll just wait until it clots on its own.” Rafael said. “Thanks so much for the workout!” He managed to add, happily leaving the gym. Bradley waved good bye and smiled, almost forcibly. His sunglasses seemed useless at night, but he sure looked good in them, Rafael thought, stealing a glance once more. Bradley waited a bit to observe his ring. There was definitely a drop of blood on it, preparing to dry. He needed to be quick. He almost grimaced at the ease his plan had worked with. Part 2 – Dream Walking Rafael prepared to shower. He couldn’t get Bradley out of his mind. Was Rafael gay? He’d never felt any attraction to anyone. He knew so little about Bradley, but there was an essence to him. A feeling around him. Rafael felt comfortable and somehow scared in his presence. He looked in the mirror and frowned- there was nothing like Bradley’s in the reflection. No well-groomed hair, no defined and masculine beard, no intense brown eyes and long, handsome face. Rafael felt his chest sink; it was hard being average. He didn’t consider himself even that. Rafael went into the shower and lathered, rinsed. The norm. His mind wandered around. Work, Dad, Bradley. No! Work, Dad, school. Rafael folded down a bit, trying to get his mind off of Brad. He lathered downward and couldn’t help wondering what it’d be like to maybe hold Bradley’s bicep. It was so toned, like a baseball. Crap. Rafael had an erection. Maybe he’d deal with it, but he certainly wasn’t going to think about Bradley. “What are you doing, master?” Xaekus said, trying to push the bottle around. When Brad got home, it was to the bottle for Xak. “Nothing!” Brad yelled out. He couldn’t find the jar of lavender incense. “Master, who was that young man that called?” Xaekus asked, slowly pushing the bottle. He couldn’t see what his master was doing in the other room. “Just a friend. Is that you moving your bottle, should I come in there?” Bradley said, lighting the large brazier. It spout fire upward. “No, Master, I’m not doing anything. Just like you.” Xaekus growled. He saw a pile of papers on one of the tables in the room. I just cleaned up those files, Xaekus thought, angrily. There were a few specks of mud on the floor Brad had tracked in. Xaekus growled. “You don’t have friends,” bit Xaekus. Bradley found the lavender. He’d make Xaekus arrange all the incenses alphabetically tomorrow, this was stupid. He heard Xak’s remark and grabbed the shade’s sage too. “I close this room by the power of my god spark.” He said, tossing a handful of shade’s sage into the brazier. It gushed out black smoke and began circling the room. Xaekus groaned- now he would certainly not see anything. “Go clean the house, Xaekus, by my will and order.” Bradley said. “But master, you haven’t fed me!” Xaekus whined. He didn’t say more, knowing he’d receive no answer. He went onto his business. _________________________________ Bradley grabbed a handful of lavender and tossed it in. He pulled out a red pendulum- amethyst, his favorite for this work- and chanted. He began undressing himself. The white vial of strange oil popped open in his other hand. He rubbed the pendulum with it and then his tongue. It tasted awful, but Brad was used to it. He closed his eyes as his focus seemed to waiver. The white vial held a strong hallucinogen. The pendulum swayed around, finding its own focus. Bradley had dream walked before, he did it often without wanting to as he slept. One night he’d been going through the town, learning about it and seeing if he could find a good place to post an actual office. Last thing he wanted was a witch hunt- they somehow happened in the modern world still. Maybe it was the subconscious telling mortals there was magic? He’d been going past dreaming people, many spirits, and definitely ghosts. None bothered him. He looked over and saw something glint that night. He went to see out of curiosity and saw Rafael. He saw his soul squirm in sadness, worried about the future. To each their own, Bradley said, preparing to leave. “Oh, you know he seems interesting.” Alice said. “Ugh, no. Not right now, Alice.” “It’s that time of year.” She said, playing with her long, blonde locks. She weaved them into a bun and giggled. “AliCiel, look. I know I’m supposed to reach my quota, but I don’t know what to do right now. I did some pretty good things last year.” He said, sitting next to the sleeping Rafael. “It’s not even against your better being, honey, and as great as those things were, once again they weren't for yourself.” Alice said. She wore a very crisp white suit. “Fine, okay, so what do you want me to do?” Bradley said. His usual calm demeanor was wavering with annoyance. “Make a friend. All you have to do is something good for the better of others and for yourself.” Alice said. “So I just change him how he wants, and then I don’t deal with you again for a while?” Bradley snapped. “You make him confident in who he is, and improve him. Don’t replace him. You didn’t replace yourself, you just improved, remember? Besides, he's much more important than you think.” Alice said. The feathers of her jacket’s shoulders glistened. “Angels are almost as annoying as djinn, and are half as useful as demons. Have I ever told you that? I set up an extremely successful large-scale adoption agency that helps kids find homes last year, and that wasn't enough? You’re at least two months early.” Bradley bit. “Oh stop it, you know you love me. I’m your higher guardian. You don’t call on me often anymore, but I know you’ll always need me for some emergency.” She said, giggling. “Now help him. He’s trying hard, he just needs a push. You know it isn't small if I direct you to one person. He may look normal, but he’ll be important soon enough. Who knows, maybe you’ll learn to be friends with people.” So once again, Bradley found himself standing above the thin, average looking young man. He’d been seeing him regularly for a while now. If it were in person, it could be considered ‘stalking’, but Bradley had been doing most of his information gathering through dream walks and his black mirror. He learned about Rafael’s hard work, his skills, and his kindness. So tonight he’d help Rafael the best way he could think possible; giving him some will power. He knew that although Rafael worked out, studied hard, and tried his best there was always something dragging him down. Rafael’s father was dying and there was no family left to connect with Rafael. Maybe it was that? Maybe it was the bullying Rafael had received as a child. It could have been the differing look he carried in comparison to most of the ‘attractive’ people that he saw often in town. He was different too- he loved art and could not focus on certain things in life. Rafael was told time and time again to choose simple careers like his other schoolmates. The boy had not listened. Bradley didn’t feel too bad for him, everyone goes through this. Everyone can choose to be successful. And yet here he was, wondering what his Guardian Angel could mean about this seemingly normal man. As Rafael slept, Bradley poked his body, looking at what foundation there was to work with. Bradley was very good at magic of the flesh, but as Alice directed, he would have to do most of the work the good old fashioned way. He found that most minds kept intact better if they were changed slowly, anyway. _______________________________________ Rafael yawned and wrestled around with his sheets. He would get very cold and used a lot of them. His hands crept around slowly, half asleep, looking for his big pillow he would often sleep curled around. He rubbed something smooth, not like fabric. Rafael did so for a bit, looking for a way to grab on. His mind began noticing the anomaly that was skin not his own. “What the hell…?” He murmured, about to bounce out of the bed in a startle. “What’s wrong…?” murmured someone else in his bed. Rafael almost jumped out of the bed as he pulled the cover off. There lay a muscular, tall man. He curled up a little as his small red underwear proved weak only against the cold room and massive basket. Rafael had no time to pay attention to such things, but it became obvious in the seconds to come. Bradley curled around and opened an eye to look at him. He let a small smile show. “What’s wrong?” He asked, groaning and reaching for Rafael with his fair, sculpted arm. Rafael tried to gather his thoughts but was still very sleepy. He felt light as air as he tried to step out of the bed. Everything seemed to vibrate in different rhythms- making him want to lie back down. “Are you all right?” Bradley asked, getting up and stretching a bit. He yawned as his hands played through his hair. His chest heaved up with said yawn. Rafael couldn’t manage to respond and hung onto the edge of the bed, lest he puke or fall from the strange vibrating. Bradley didn’t show much emotion, as usual, but he seemed to carry a semblance of a smirk. He seemed almost cocky, in a way. “Come on, Rafael. Get back in bed. I told you I would return home in the morning.” “I’m not. What is…?” Rafael finally managed to say, stupefied. Bradley’s hand rubbed Rafael’s leg slowly. He whispered “Oh, you want to go again?” Rafael couldn’t manage to say anything and certainly not figure out what was going on, seeing tall Bradley pull himself out of bed and walk around. He stood in front of the sitting Rafael in the darkness. He lifted his arms and placed them behind his hands behind his back- stretching so as to show off his v-shaped body. His lats spread upward and framed what was an abdomen that could be made of marble. Bradley breathed in and let his chest expand outward, on display for Rafael. Rafael didn’t know what to do. He hoped that his time sitting up would help him awake and sense things better, but he felt light-headed even now. He felt like he was going to vibrate out of control, especially with Bradley showing off his body in such a way. Bradley let go of his pose and stepped closer to his small friend. “Do you plan on just sitting there, or touch me?” He said, quietly. Slowly Rafael responded by reaching out and feeling only Bradley’s skin. “Bradley, I don’t know where I am.” He whispered softly. Bradley hushed him and said, “Just call me Brad, Rafael. I already told you. Now enjoy what you like. It’s for you to do with what you will tonight.” Rafael calmed a bit and slowly got up. He still didn’t know how to feel, but he’d wanted to see what so much musculature was like. Brad was certainly lithe and tall, but his definition and dense mass looked amazing in the violet moonlight. Rafael’s hand moved around, feeling Bradley’s hard abdomen. There were no blemishes, no scars, all of it perfectly smooth skin. Rafael rubbed upward and felt Brad’s dense pectorals. They were like mounds of rock, stuck to a human’s front. Rafael couldn’t help but slide his finger up and down his cleavage. He could feel arousal rush through his legs. He couldn’t help but look up at Brad and observe every inch he wanted to since the first day they met. Rafael didn’t understand what he was feeling, but he certainly liked it. “Do you like my face?” Bradley asked, rubbing the smaller man’s shoulder. “Yes…” Rafael muttered quietly. His mind was adrift the blue mist in the room. “Do you fear me?” “Yes.” Bradley breathed in quickly to flex his biceps and show off his chest once more. He did this for a few seconds and then sat next to Rafael. “Do you want to be strong, like me?” Bradley asked. He held both Rafael’s hands on his legs, pushing the fingers over the ridges of his striated quadriceps. “Yes, I want to be strong.” Rafael coughed. The world stopped bouncing around and Rafael felt everything balance. He looked up at Bradley’s outstretched hand and put his own in its grasp. Immediately he felt a warmth- an energy. He closed his eyes. Everything seemed to move slowly. Rafael felt his blue boxers tighten as he looked down at his legs. They were outstretching along with his feet. He found himself skinny as a twig but as tall as Bradley. Bradley himself leaned in and kissed him passionately, squeezing him in muscular embrace. This sent a wave of ecstasy through Rafael. He felt his frame widen with sinew that grew between his shoulders and chest. His legs thickened as Bradley’s arms squeezed in on his abdomen. His waist tightened smaller. Bradley let go of Rafael, not once wavering his gaze. Rafael looked at his hands as they pulsed with blood. His arms had become veiny. He looked at his body and saw that it was solid as rock, pressing the veins out and stretching his dark brown skin. His hands still up he looked back at Bradley. “Flex for me, stud.” Bradley commanded. Rafael followed suit, posing himself only how he thought he could, since he’d never posed for anyone. He let out his arms and then showed off his biceps. He couldn’t manage to look forward at Bradley in shyness. Bradley managed to chuckle and pushed his arms slightly up to fix his pose. He let his fingers land between Rafael’s now stone-solid pectorals. They slid down, pushing to get to the cleavage’s base; Rafael instinctively flexed. Bradley then let his fingers run like a weaving snake between Rafael’s brick abdominals. “Are you a great man now, Rafael?” Bradley asked, “Strong enough to dominate me? I’m almost invincible, you see.” Rafael once more acted on instinct and reached out with his elbow to knock Bradley down. He didn’t know why his body reacted this way- he didn’t want to hurt Bradley. This was of no matter as Bradley quickly bent backward and then pulled himself up with ease. “Use the force you were given.” Bradley commanded, now certainly as menacing as ever. Rafael lifted his hands up into the air to slam onto Bradley, whom did not dodge. He instead reacted by tossing his own two arms above himself to take the hit. Rafael groaned as the force vibrated through both of them. Their forearms acted like blades; tough as steel. Rafael pressed down as hard as possible, feeling Bradley weaken. Bradley’s hands slipped to the sides as he moved out of the way. He opened his palms and thrust both arms straight at Rafael’s midsection. Almost as if time slowed down, the shockwave of force from Bradley’s shoulders exploded into and through his hands. They sent Rafael past the bed and on the floor. Bradley slowly walked around. “You need to be stronger, Rafael.” He said, lifting his foot above Rafael, preparing to slam into him. Rafael felt a tinge of fear as he saw the massive quad tightening and getting ready to crush him. As Bradley slammed his leg into the ground (so hard, the wooden floor shattered into the base under), Rafael quickly knocked him down with a swoop of his own leg. It was difficult hitting him, as they were both dense like metal. Even if he himself was this dense, the shock would cause pain. Bradley looked at him from the ground and finally smiled once more. He slowly crawled back to Rafael and whispered something that Rafael could not understand. They then kissed. Rafael woke up. He held his head. He looked around and saw the bed empty, aside from himself. He looked around and saw that the room was normal. No cracked floor. No mist. He crawled out of bed, as if dizzy from a night of alcohol. His eyes went to the mirror and saw no difference in his body. Just a dream. Then he saw it. He looked at his abdomen. It was tighter than the night before. He grew excited and flexed- just like Bradley had made him in the dream. His arms didn’t look much bigger, but they certainly had gained mass. Rafael couldn’t believe it and almost jumped with excitement. He looked at every corner of his body and saw a little progress everywhere. A single work out with Bradley had helped him so much. He thought it was impossible. And then Bradley was on his mind. He was so different and strange. Now he grew nervous, thinking about his obviously sexual needs for a man like Bradley. What was going on? Rafael sat down on his bed and tried to examine his situation. Eventually he got up and went on with his day, happy he had improved so much by making friends with someone. Bradley sat in his kitchen. He drank his coffee and rubbed his forehead. It was early in the morning. Xaekus had long finished his duties and must have grown tired of trying to see into his master’s affairs. Brad sneezed as the smell of sage and lavender blew out of the room. The curtains flailed slowly in the morning winds of the kitchen windows. “Why didn’t you just do it altogether?” Alice asked him from behind the counter. “Because he has a great deal of self-integrity. If I give it all to him now, he’d lose his respect for hard work. That’s one of his most amazing qualities.” Bradley said before sipping his coffee. “Did you call him amazing?” Alice giggled. “Did I say ‘amazing’? I meant to say ‘interesting’. It’s one of his more respectable qualities.” Bradley said. “Oh, I can definitely see him in your stars soon!” Alice said, walking out the kitchen door. She knocked over a file cabinet, not to anger Bradley, but to prod Xaekus. “I certainly hope not.” Bradley said, staring blankly at the dancing blue curtains. END TALE II Ending Author Note: I do apologize if there's not much sensuality in this story. I wanted to flesh out some more plot points in my series. I might add more to this story, but I doubt it. I have so many ideas for other tales that will span out to other characters (like a solo for Xak, he seemed popular in LM #1. Thank you once again for reading my work and giving me feedback.