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Here's another Super Hero themed story that I don't think I ever posted on the old forum. The Mission Both Sam and I tried to simultaneously look cool and scurry the last few yards to make it across yet another large intersection before the onslaught of automobiles could get up to speed after the traffic light changed. We weren't very successful - at looking cool I mean. Well, at least I wasn't. Sam on the other hand always looked cool. Even so, most of the city residents around us - were they of a mind to pay attention to anyone else on the street - would have spotted the two of us as out-of-towners in pretty short order. When you are a couple of small-town guys settling in as freshmen at the city's most prestigious university, getting used to new things is almost a full time occupation. Being pedestrians on the hyper-busy city streets was just another adjustment to be made. My name is Will Miller. My friend, Sam Munson and I were both the lucky recipients of full athletic scholarships and beginning our first year of post-secondary study in the big city. We'd known each other since grade-school and had pretty much been best-friends from the first day we'd met. We had quickly become a couple of those persistently paired kids whose names gradually melded into a familiar, collectively identifying phrase like "Ben and Jerry" or "Bert and Ernie". Where ever one was, you could usually be sure the other wasn't far off. Sam and Will. And just like his name's appearance in the order of that collective moniker, Sam was always number one. He excelled at just about everything he put his mind to. We had similar interests and abilities and though I was always very proficient and capable at whatever endeavor I might undertake, Sam was always better. The degree to which that was true had become apparent so clearly and so early in our friendship that I had long since come to terms with my role as 'wingman' and harbored no bitterness about it. In fact, trying to keep pace with Sam as we grew up together probably drove me to be a more accomplished student and athlete than I would have otherwise become had I never met him. I like to think that being pushed by me, hot on his heels as the determined, perpetual runner-up in life had helped to make Sam a little better too. But that was probably a conceit. Sam never seemed 'pushed' or threatened by anything. He wasn't cocky, really - he was too reserved for that. He had a kind of innate, confident detachment that gave him that aura of unflappable cool that I mentioned earlier. This meant that Sam could be a hard one to read, even for me. Playing poker with Sam was like being systematically fleeced by one of those inscrutable heads from Easter Island. The guy would probably clean house in a tournament. As I've said, I never really begrudged Sam his successes, even when - as was most always the case - those successes meant that I came in second best. But one aspect of our lifelong, friendly competition did occasionally rankle me ever so slightly. While I would exhaust myself training or studying for months in order to make my best effort at something, Sam often seemed to just go through the motions. I mean, it's not like he was a slacker or anything, he would be there at the gym just as often as I would be; he would check out similar kinds of reference material and the same books. But I rarely noticed him actually reading any of them. I don't think I ever saw the guy actually break a sweat but still, there he would always be - accepting that ribbon for first place. I slowed to a stop, gawking at a window display at an electronics store. The latest shiny toys from Apple beckoned seductively. I had almost enough money for an entry level model in my bank account just for the purpose of buying a new laptop for school. "That's not the mission, Will." Sam called, breaking the spell of my gadget-lust. I turned to see him further up the street, slowly walking backwards, waiting for me to catch up. Once Sam started talking about 'the mission', there was no deterring him, whatever the mission might be at any particular moment. Right now it was making it to the start of a movie on time. I trotted to catch up as we rounded the corner and headed down the block to the movie theater. There was a line of maybe a couple dozen people outside the actual entrance. "At least the line isn't around the block," I offered. "Sometimes the fans for these superhero flicks can be a little intense". As for me and movies based on comic books, I could take 'em or leave 'em. But Sam never missed one. He would watch them intently - almost like he was listening to an academic lecture. Before our arrival, the end of the line was occupied by a couple of girls who looked to be around our age. They seemed none too happy to be there. "I'm not going to wait much longer." One was saying to the other. "How late are they?" The other of the book-end blonds demanded with exasperation. "Almost twenty minutes. Do you really want to see this dorky movie if it's just us? C'mon lets get out of here." The four of us exchanged perfunctory nods and smiles as Sam and I joined the line. The girl that had suggested they leave was suddenly pulled back into line by the other. "Maybe we won't have to see it alone, after all." She said, casting a devilish glance at Sam and myself. Sam and I had both always been considered handsome enough. With the slight edge going to Sam of course. And the fact that we were both longtime accomplished gymnasts meant that our muscular builds were detectable no matter our attire. Focused as he was on obtaining our tickets before show-time, Sam didn't notice the girl's flirtation alert level shift into defcon-1, but I saw it coming. "So, Hello boys." began the bolder of the two girls. "If you two are joining someone here, hope you don't get stood up like we apparently have been." "Umm, no." Sam replied. It took him a moment to realize the young woman was talking to the two of us. "We aren't meeting anyone." "Well," The girl smiled, invitingly. "I think you just did. I'm Lisa and this is Sonya." Before either of us could respond, an ear-splitting police siren blared to life only a few car-lengths down the street from our position - close enough and loud enough to startle even the most jaded resident of Metropolis. Everyone in line turned reflexively to watch as the cop-car left its spot in the traffic lane and began to weave its way along through any break it could find in the river of cars around it. It had no more than worked its way a half a block along when a fire engine came wailing along to fall in behind the police car. Neither vehicle was going to make it anywhere fast. That's when we got our first sighting. Everyone says that you don't feel like a true resident of Metropolis until your first, in-the-flesh sighting of Superman in action. It happened so fast that at first, I wasn't sure WHAT I was seeing. A purplish blurr hurtled from far down the street opposite the direction in which the emergency response vehicles were trying to go. It vanished beneath the fire engine. Suddenly, Sam started in that direction, apparently no longer interested in the movie. He was moving fast. "Hey," I called as I ran after him. "Wait up." Then, like someone mimicking the Statue of Liberty, suddenly Superman stood amidst the gridlock. Only instead of a torch, he was holding the fire truck - with one hand and a super-humanly muscular arm that looked as though hefting the weight of a mere multi-tonne piece of firefighting equipment was not even a decent warm-up. Sam skidded to a stop on the sidewalk opposite where Superman stood in the street. A half-second later, I caught up to Sam. I was panting a little. I had really had to run flat-out to keep Sam in sight and he had still been pulling away from me pretty steadily. If he hadn't stopped when he had, I might have lost him in the crowd. I grabbed him by his upper arm forcefully, trying to get his attention. "What the heck is up with you?" I had never known Sam to be this excitable about anything. As I confronted Sam, Superman rose into the air, slowly at first, so as not to shake-up the firemen too much, then soared on over the traffic, picking up speed fast, obviously intending to get the truck to its destination more quickly. Sam didn't even look at me. His eyes never left Superman. "You should let go." He said, absently. I felt the muscles of his arm flex. Sam had biceps an Olympian might envy and when he flexed you knew it, but I also felt something else from his arm. It was like he was vibrating or full of electricity or something. I barely had time to register the strange sensation before Sam bolted again. He took off with such speed and force that it nearly yanked my arm out of its socket. I stumbled a few steps after him as though swept along in his wake before I was able to find my balance again. I stared after him, stunned and surprised as I rubbed my aching shoulder. But Sam was nowhere in sight. I took off at a trot, not really sure if I was heading in the right direction. I glanced around to see if I could spot him as I moved, unwilling to believe that he'd managed to move clean out of sight so quickly. I slowed to a frustrated walk and was about to give up when I saw the smoke. It had to be three or four blocks away; a column of dingy, dark gray against the brilliant blue sky. If Sam was after Superman and Superman was heading toward that fire then I figured that would be where I'd find him. I rotated my arm around my traumatized shoulder joint and winced at the pain. I thought I knew Sam's limits as far as strength and speed as well as anyone. I knew he was an impressive guy, but the ache in my shoulder and the way he had so easily outpaced me left me wondering if maybe my friend really had been holding back all these years. I set off toward the fire. As I weaved my way through the dense pedestrian traffic, I was baffled by how Sam must have moved at such speed through so many people. I stripped off the long-sleeved shirt I was wearing, leaving only one of the white, "wife-beater" undershirts I liked to wear. I found these shirts a reasonable balance between being able to show off a bit when things got a little warm, and not seeming too obvious about wanting to do so. Also, if I wanted to elbow my way through the crowd of spectators that was gathering, looking a little bit intimidating wasn't going to hurt. As I made my way forward toward the curb, things started getting more chaotic. Police were trying to move people back from a fairly large skyscraper, but there were too few officers available for the task to accomplish this. Looking up, I saw no actual flames, but smoke was pouring from one side of the building. Returning my attention to the crowd around me, I spotted Sam. He was moving steadily toward the base of the stricken building, one of the few people still doing so. Making sure the nearest cop wouldn't see me, I ducked under the line of yellow tape they had managed to partially string up and headed for Sam. That's when I noticed something large come around the side of the smoking skyscraper. At first I thought it was a helicopter, but then, through a break in the smoke, I saw that it was Superman. Incredibly, he still had the fire tanker in one hand. With the other, he was dousing the fire with the truck's powerful fire-hose. He performed the impossible task with the same ease with which a gardener might spray weed-killer on his lawn with one of those hand pumped pressure sprayers. His heroic task complete, The Man of Steel levitated himself and the tanker back to earth, landing near the truck's applauding crew. Tearing my eyes away from this amazing scene, I turned my attention back to Sam. I located him again, striding purposefully toward the firemen and Superman. I couldn't explain why, but I was feeling very uneasy about the whole situation. Sam was NOT one for hero-worship. I couldn't figure out why he had fixated on Superman so intensely all of a sudden. "Sam!" I shouted as loud as I could to overcome the din. I waved my arms frantically to get his attention. For a moment, he turned and looked right at me and I saw recognition in his eyes. Then he smiled ruefully and continued on toward the squad of firemen who were enthusiastically shaking hands with Superman. "Crap!" I didn't know what was going on, but I didn't like it. I sprinted after him. There was something about having Sam and Superman so close to each other that unsettled me on a fundamental level. Sam didn't lose. Sam never suffered by comparison. Sam was at the superlative extreme in the way I viewed the world. Considering Sam and Superman within the same framework was like pondering the old hypothetical conundrum of what happened when irresistible force met immovable object. Of course, Sam wasn't in Superman's league and maybe that was the problem. Maybe I didn't like having Sam toppled from his pedestal in my own little personal world view. Sam slipped into the line of firemen that Superman was slowly making his way along, shaking hands as he went. Within a couple of seconds, I had joined him there. "Would you please tell me what the heck is going on with you?" I asked. "We shouldn't be here. We are, in fact, probably gonna be in a world of trouble. What are you trying to accomplish?" "The Mission." He informed me without looking at me. I almost laughed. "Typical. Everything is a 'mission' with you." Then Sam did turn and look at me. He looked sad. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why this might be, but I felt a strange, cold dread for no reason I could identify. "Not anymore." He explained. The sadness in his expression melted away, replaced by a zen-like determination. "Now I know what the mission is. The real one." "'Kay." I said, as though humoring a crazy person. "Have you, by any chance, halted some medication regimen that you shouldn't have." I added sarcastically. That's when Sam started undressing. He had slowly and deliberately doffed his shirt and watch and was working on his belt before I could snap out of my shock. I gathered up his shirt and his watch and then the belt that he had dropped indifferently to the sidewalk just as he unzipped and dropped his pants. "Sam! Cut it out." I demanded as he stepped out of his jeans. He stood and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs. "I dropped the rest of his clothes back to the ground and grabbed him by his wrists before that final unveiling. "Whoa, there Lady Godiva." I grunted as I struggled to stop him. "Sam!" I yelled into his face, trying to get him to look at me. "You are going to get yourself arrested. How will that help the mission?" I had finally decided that pretending to buy into whatever madness had come over him might be the only way to reason with him. He looked at me, finally. But I did not see the Sam I knew in his eyes. "You are correct. It will not. The reaction this part of the protocol would induce in the authorities present might prove an unnecessary distraction. There is no reason it cannot be postponed." It was as I stood blinking dumbly at this odd response that I first noticed that we had an audience. I stopped fighting Sam for control of his underwear and stepped back away from him, my face burning red. "Umm...he's not feeling well." I offered to Superman and the dozen or so gruff-looking firemen flanking him. It was then that Sam stepped forward, coming face to face with Superman. "Kal-El of the planet Krypton, Your interference with the natural progression of events on this planet is at an end." Superman's brow furrowed slightly, but at first, he said nothing. The fireman however, all burst out laughing. "Watch out Supes." One of them offered between guffaws. "Underwear-Model Man is gunnin' for ya." "Yeah, what's YOUR superpower..." another chimed in, "If you are gonna dress like that and try to give Superman here a hard time..." the big fireman continued as he stepped between Superman and Sam. "...it had better be invulnerability to wedgies." Superman intervened before the situation could escalate. "Thank you sergeant, but I think I can handle this." Superman said calmly, placing a hand on the fireman's shoulder and urging him to move away. "In order to minimize disruption to denizens of this community, we should relocate before continuing." Sam said, still giving Superman his undivided attention. "Look, Superman." I interrupted, placing myself between the two as the fireman just had. "Sam here...I don't know...he isn't himself, but he's harmless. I've never known him to hurt anyone. He's just a normal guy." That's when Sam started glowing. The brightness emanating from him intensified until it seemed brighter than the sun. I shielded my eyes but my vision was quickly transformed into a field of multicolored spots. There was a sound like thunder and the next thing I knew, all was silent. I opened my eyes, blinking to dispel the fading spots. We were...somewhere else. Both Superman and I gaped around at our new surroundings, before slowly returning our stunned attention to Sam. "Okay. Maybe not so normal." I admitted, as my brain tried to assimilate what had just happened. "But nobody is hurt. Right?" I asked, patting down my own body as I checked for injury. "The spatial translocation has caused no harm." Sam assured. Superman, Sam and I all stood in exactly the same relative positions to each other, but we were no longer in Metropolis. Spectacular mountains rose into the sky in front of us. I turned slowly, taking in the rest of the vista and saw that while the mountains dominated in one direction, flat plains stretched out in every other. "Are - are those the Rockies?!" I asked, more to myself than to the other two men who were with me. "They are indeed." Superman replied, crossing his arms. He fixed Sam with a stern, disapproving look, the muscles in his strong jaw bulging with irritation. I followed Superman's glare to where Sam stood, returning Superman's gaze. He was still glowing faintly, but it seemed to be subsiding. "If you are so concerned about disrupting the lives of humans, then why bring him along." Superman challenged as he pointed to me. "Humans?" I echoed incredulously, then laughed nervously. "Yeah right , like Sam isn't...." I stopped, my eyes widening as I turned to look at Sam. Sam swallowed. A look that might have been guilt played across his face for a moment before he managed an answer. "It is only fair that the people of Earth are informed of what transpires here. They must be made to understand that they no longer have the anomalous presence of a member of an advanced culture who will intervene in their destiny. Will's purpose here is to bear witness and convey this information." I was surprised to find myself in the grip of a sudden and growing anger. I rounded on this being who had been my lifelong best friend. "Who the Hell ARE you! Where's Sam? What have you done with him?!" I demanded. Reluctantly, Sam turned to look at me. "I am Sam Munson, Will. Everything of Sam is still incorporated into this form. However, I am also the designated mitigator." "The des - The WHAT..." I stammered. "Designated by whom to mitigate what?" Superman replied more evenly. "A counsel of advanced, space-faring civilizations transplanted me into this planet's society so that I might eventually act as the designated instrument by which the imbalance caused by your presence will be mitigated." Sam explained to Superman. "I see." Superman said dubiously. "And just what is the nature of this imbalance I am supposedly causing?" "If you so wish, that can be explained at a later time, after mitigation has been achieved." Sam replied. "One possible means of mitigation would be your willing and permanent departure from this world in my company. This is the method that would be most efficient." "Oh, I'm sure it would be." Superman smirked. "But I have a feeling we're going to have to work something else out." "In the event of your failure to comply, the protocol requires that I remove you." Sam stated point blank. "Sam." I began, as I struggled to wrap my mind around what I was hearing. "If you really are still in there, then you know you've been set up to fail here. Just how do you plan on "removing" Superman from the planet?" "That will not pose a problem." Sam assured. "My basic human manifestation is in the final stages of being reconfigured. Even now, there is a forty-eight percent probability that I could successfully implement mitigation by forcible removal." Superman dropped his arms and seemed to scrutinize Sam intently. "Either this is some kind of joke or you're bluffing. Or both. You look perfectly human to me." "Maybe." I added. "But how does a human get the three of us from Metropolis to the other end of the Great Plains in the blink of an eye." Superman opened his mouth, but seemed to abandon whatever reply had at first come to mind. "Good point." He conceded. For a moment a glimmer of the old Sam surfaced on his face. "Perfectly human." He repeated Superman's phrase, smiling wistfully as he absently rubbed his left hand along his right triceps, flexing it beneath his touch. "That is apt. A perfect physiology augmented with technology that, ironically, was culled from the single remaining comprehensive Kryptonian archive is the means by which I am being rendered capable of mitigation." "Wait." Superman interjected, holding up a hand. "Kryptonian archive? Are you saying that this counsel of yours has infiltrated the Fortress of Solitude?" Sam seemed to consult some inner resource for a moment. "No. A more extensive archive exists." Then, on seeing the obvious and intense interest the mention of this archive induced in Superman, a new idea seemed to occur to him. "Access to this archive can be provided to you. If..." Sam offered a small grin that I recognized. It was his 'checkmate' smirk. "...you agree to mitigation." Superman actually looked unsure. I honestly didn't know whether to be more afraid that he would take Sam's offer or refuse it. Superman's look of resolve returned. "I don't believe you. And even if I did, my commitment is to the people of Earth." "Then I have no choice but to resume the protocol." With that, Sam deftly shucked his underwear and stood for a moment studying Superman. Both Superman and I went slack-jawed. It was a surprising move on Sam's part but the most shocking part was being confronted with the sheer awesome spectacle of Sam's naked anatomy. I addressed Superman even though I didn't seem to be able to look away from Sam. "Dude. You might be in trouble." Superman crossed his arms and pointedly looked away. "So I'm guessing that modesty isn't a big part of this protocol of yours." "Not really seeing what he has to be modest about?" I added gawking. The look Superman shot my way could have just as easily been a blast of heat vision in that it was just as effective at wiping the grin off my face. "Concerns such as modesty are of no relevance." Sam explained with a small shrug. "Very shortly, as a result of the process that readys me for my mission, there will be a small risk that matter in prolonged contact with my body will be subject to quantum state inversion" Both Sam and I had always been fairly quick studies when it came to science, but since this whole strange episode had begun, he'd been tossing out phrases, the meanings of which, I could only hazard guesses about. "Umm, and that would be a bad thing?" I asked. "If you consider having your undies suddenly transformed into highly explosive anti-matter a bad thing, then yes." Superman explained dryly. My eyes widened as I consider such an event. "Sort of renders that fireman's whole wedgie-threat obsolete." Sam laughed. I noted that it was the most - well, Sam-like thing I'd seen him do since he'd laid eyes on Superman. He was still in there somewhere. "I think I've heard enough." Superman continued more seriously. "Something strange is obviously going on here. I can't take the risk that some of what you are claiming might be true enough to present a danger." "Negating potential danger on an interstellar scale is the sole purpose of my mission." Sam retorted as he began to flex and inspect various muscles. He seemed to be gauging the progress of the transformation he claimed to be undergoing. I didn't know what was more impressive, Sam's confident display or the fact that Superman was able to look so totally unfazed by it. Superman moved to Sam and placed one hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You'll have to come with me now." He explained sternly. The hero turned to address me. "We are too far from the nearest ranch for you to walk the distance." He instructed as he surveyed the area. "I see no dangerous animals in the immediate vicinity. Just stay put and I'll have someone pick you up within the hour." "What? Where are you taking Sam?" I demanded. "Nowhere." Sam interjected, "As I have explained, it is Superman who will be accompanying me." He gingerly grasped Superman's wrist and removed it from his shoulder. Sam then spread his arms out as though executing an iron-cross and slowly began to rise into the air. "I urge you to follow me Superman - of your own free will." My mouth hung open as I watched Sam soar into the cloudless sky. He swooped and changed direction a couple of times as though he were allowing himself to become accustomed to his newly deployed flying ability. Then he hurtled directly for Superman. Without leaving the ground himself, the hero executed a last-minute, lightning-fast lateral lunge that neatly moved him out of Sam's path. Or so it seemed. It was almost comical to see Superman's smug expression change to a gape of surprise as Sam shot out an arm and snagged the the older man by the cape, hauling him into the air in a completely undignified manner. But Superman wasn't a rank newbie at these sorts of battles. He recovered immediately and deftly flipped himself into Sam's path. He then grabbed the teen by one arm and spun them both into a blur of whirling motion, only to stop with such phenomenal abruptness that Sam was sent careening to the ground where he slammed into the earth with a resounding 'BOOM' that almost knocked me off my feet. The impact kicked up a cloud of dust that obscured Sam from view. Superman, who understood the importance of keeping an opponent in view, immediately dispersed the cloud with a gale-force blast of his breath. For an instant, Sam lay on his back in the center of a shallow crater. There was a look of utter neutrality on his face, no anger, no surprise, nothing. He sat up, then streaked back into the sky to confront Superman. "There's no way you can win here, kid." Superman warned crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest and staring Sam down as the two hung in mid-air about two meters above where I stood. "You are wrong Superman. The fact is; I never lose." Sam retorted flatly. That sent a shiver down my spine for one simple reason. I'd know Sam nearly all my life...and I knew that it was true. Sam gave a quick, sharp inhale of breath and then, like Superman had done to dispel that dust a moment before, he blew in Superman's direction. I watched, barely able to comprehend what happened next because of the speed of things. Sam's chest expanded then flexed down hard in a display of tight striated muscle as he forced the air out of his lungs. A column of air more powerful than a Jovian jet-stream blurred through the sky. It struck Superman for only a fraction of a second, but the result knocked the hero up into the sky like a home-run baseball being slugged out of the park. Quicker than the eye could follow, Sam streaked ahead of the tumbling hero, stopped and then unleashed a perfectly executed punch squarely targeting Superman's "S" logo. Superman became a razor-straight blurred line that connected Sam's position to a point on the ground about a block from where I stood. The ground shuddered under the impact. "Holy shit!" I shouted even as I started running toward the area where Superman had hit the ground. I skidded to a stop at the rim of the second impact crater this fight between titans had produced. I turned to see Sam calmly floating down from on high. Like Superman had before him, he dispelled the debris cloud as easily as I might extinguish the candles on a cake. Sam landed beside me and we both peered down into the crater. Superman had apparently struck the ground with his shoulders and upper back. He was more or less upside down, his legs almost comically akimbo above his head as his body was folded awkwardly at the waist. He struggled to right himself and then pushed himself up to a sitting position, grimacing as he rubbed the back of his neck. He struggled to his feet at the bottom of an even deeper crater than the one Sam's impact had formed and searched the scene for Sam, glaring daggers up at the teen once he had spotted him. "Not a happy look." I commented. "Sam, if he was holding back before, I don't think he will now. You have to stop this. It's crazy!" Sam didn't look at me, he just regarded Superman with icy calm. "You don't understand. True madness, would be to allow him to remain on Earth." "Well you're right about one thing. I DON'T understand any of this". I was shaking my head, unable to believe what was happening. "Including how you are somehow suddenly able to go toe to toe with Superman!" Suddenly, Sam bent slightly with a grunt, that strange glow had returned, though it was faint and again, faded quickly. "Yeah!" Sam almost growled, a smirk flitted across his features for a moment. It contained a disturbing hint of cruelty. "It's done. My transformation is complete. Superman is finished on Earth." He declared, standing once more to his full height. I stumbled back from Sam, shocked. It was as though his already fantastic musculature had been amped up an order of magnitude. It was impossible. He'd not only increased in size, but in apparent density and definition. Even his posture and his stance exuded power. Though stark naked, there was no hint of vulnerability, which served only to make him seem that much more intimidating. Superman sailed up from the bottom of the crater and landed between us, pushing me to the side. "You need to clear out of here, son. Now! Your friend and I have something to settle." He obviously meant business. In a flash, Superman was behind Sam, his mighty arms encircled the younger man, pinning his arms. Superman lifted them both into the air, apparently intent on putting some distance between me and the fight he was about to bring to Sam. But they had risen no more than a few meters when they simply stopped. Superman's eyes widened, then a look of determination settled onto his face and with a slight grimace he put more effort into flying the two of them higher. They moved no more than a half a meter and then stopped cold once again. Superman audibly grunted, pouring more effort into his flying ability, but they did not move. In fact, they began to glide smoothly back down to the ground. "Your concern for Will's proximity to our struggle is admirable. But I will see that no harm comes to him." Sam explained calmly as he used his own flying ability to force Superman back to the ground, even though the hero was obviously struggling mightily to resist. When their feet touched the ground, Superman released Sam and shoved him away hard as he jumped back to put some distance between them. It seemed to catch Sam off guard. He stumbled two small steps forward before he steadied himself. From my vantage point, I could see that menacing smirk make a reappearance on Sam's face before he willed himself to calm down again and once more turned to face Superman. "I can out-muscle you as easily as I just out-flew you Kryptonian. It is in the best interest of everyone for you to submit." "Young man, that's just not going to happen." Superman declared grimly. "Then you leave me no choice." Sam replied. "He then threw a poorly aimed punch at Superman, it was almost like he intended to miss - a sort of shot across the bow. It grazed the older man's jaw to little effect, but I suspected that it was probably a way to telegraph a taste of the kind of power Sam was capable of without actually laying into Superman. Superman took advantage of the opening to launch his own punch, squarely connecting with Sam's gut. I could feel the thud through the ground, but it merely bounced off Sam's abs. Sam grinned ever so slightly. He seemed to be alternating back and forth between cold detachment and more human reactions. I wondered if Superman had noticed this too. It was almost like two distinct entities were jostling for control of Sam's body. Relying on his skill in hand to hand combat, Superman brought the fight to Sam, pressing the advantage that experience granted him. Sam was rarely able to land even a grazing blow, taking aim randomly at whatever target Superman presented. On the other hand, Superman bided his time as he dodged, concentrating his punches strategically on the same target over and over - pummeling Sam's abs with precision and awesome power. But I noticed that even the glancing blows Sam landed elicited grunts and grimaces from Superman, while every thudding, solid hit Superman landed against the teen's unyielding abs drew either no reaction at all or a small, sneering smirk from Sam. The whole scene started to remind me of an eerily, disturbingly familiar feeling. I hoped that I was wrong. I hoped that Sam wasn't just phoning it in with this fight, like he'd done with most every other challenge in his life. Any other observer would have certainly perceived both combatants to be going all out for the win. They moved with such speed and power, shaking the ground with their superhuman efforts. Even though Superman appeared to have the edge in sheer skill, as the fight went on, frustration began to take its toll on the Man of Steel. Sam's hits rattled him more and more and landed more frequently. Superman's strategy, which might have been superior to Sam's on paper, wasn't working. The kid's abs withstood Superman's every ground-rumbling punch. There was no sign that they were being worn down. On the contrary, it was Superman's Kryptonian stamina that was beginning to falter. Determined, Superman reached deep into his strength reserves as he doubled down on his attack strategy. I could see a sheen of sweat start to form on his face as he increased both the power of his punches and the frequency with which they came. At the same time, he concentrated harder on avoiding Sam's punishing blows. Superman blinked repeatedly as sweat began to obscure his vision, but he realized that Sam's rain of blows had ceased, freeing him to press his attack even more intensely. He imagined his opponent, breathless and teetering on the brink of collapse. He cleared his eyes with a pulse of heat vision power, evaporating the sweat blurring his vision. I could almost feel the cold dread and shock that must have stabbed the pit of the hero's stomach. Sam had raised both arms, placing them behind his head. He was smiling with cold amusement and merely watching as Superman continued to pound away at his wholly unaffected neutron-dense wash-board. Superman shook his head. "That's impossible!" With a roar of frustration he fired off a final, all-out shot at Sam's impervious abs and then stumbled back several steps, breathing hard as the shock-wave rolled across the plains. Sam advanced on his adversary, slapping his abs proudly. "Had enough, Kryptonian?" I noticed that Sam's heavy cock was hanging lower. Apparently wielding such power was starting to arouse Sam. Truth be known, it was affecting me the same way just watching it all. Sam reached for Superman, but the hero intercepted Sam's arms. They struggled against each other, fingers interlaced. After a moment of this, Sam released one of Superman's hands and yanked the hero forward by the other. He brought Superman's hand up to nearly eye level and glared at Superman over their clasped hands. Then he squeezed, the muscles of his arm welling up like tsunami. Superman groaned, his face contorting with surprise and pain and his knees gave way slightly before he could steady himself and dredge up the power to counter Sam to some degree. "Submit" Sam advised cooly, "before I am forced to injure you." He appeared to be slowly increasing the crushing power of his grip. Superman went up on his toes. He gritted his teeth and growled in pain as he tried to free himself with both hands. I was frozen in place. I had no idea what to do. Superman stopped whipping his head back and forth in pain and concentrated on the ground. A sudden pencil-thin beam of heat-vision lanced into the earth and a second later the entire world seemed to shift violently beneath my feet. Even Sam was surprised. He released his grip and stumbled for a moment then he wholly disappeared from view, tumbling into a deep chasm that suddenly yawned beneath him. Gasping, Superman willed himself airborne and then streaked directly down into the earth, pulverizing a huge quantity of solid rock, which cascaded down into the chasm after Sam. The next thing I knew, I was dangling by my shirt-front in Superman's grip as he glared into my face. "I don't know who you are to this guy, I don't know what's happening to him. But if some alien force is changing him - taking him over - you've got to help me reach his human side." "I...I don't know any more than you do." I stammered. "What am I supposed to-" "Listen to me!" Superman shouted in my face, shaking me. "That dormant fault-line trick won't hold him long and I don't think I can take him! If you can't reach him, he's probably going to-". Sam blasted into the sky through an explosion of earth and pulverized rock. He spotted me and Superman in short order and the look on his face froze us both to the core. "Put him DOWN!" he shouted. The force of the demand cracked the air like a sonic boom. Superman gulped as he gently set me on my feet. "Somewhere in there, he's still your friend." Superman whispered. "Use that." Suddenly, Superman streaked skyward directly at Sam. He roared through the air, both fists protruding in front of him like twin battering rams. He connected with Sam's solar-plexus like a living missile, only to be effortlessly deflected by the dense plates of pectoral muscle that composed Sam's thick chest. Superman lost all control as his momentum was violently redirected, shunting his body earthward. He crashed into the ground with an ungainly thud and lay unmoving. Sam nodded proudly to himself as he thumped his mighty pecs, obviously pleased with the power of his body. "You are full of bad ideas today, Superman." Sam's semi-hard cock seemed to be flirting with the idea of visiting his knees as it swung heavily with his slightest movement. Finally Superman rolled over with a groan and pulled himself to his feet. Sam's grin vanished, suddenly replaced by a cold flat glare once more. "It is obvious that you do not intend to comply with mitigation. You will now be forcibly compelled." Sam landed gracefully in front of Superman. "Unconscious, you will be rendered incapable of further interference with my mission." Sam casually picked up the shaken Man-of-Steel almost gently, folding him into a bear-hug. "NoooARRrrrggggggghaaaaa!" Superman's eyes bulged as Sam applied his unstoppable strength to the hold. Sam hadn't bothered to pin Superman's arms and the hero pushed against Sam’s burgeoning pecs, but he couldn't relieve the mounting pressure in the least. He turned a pleading look in my direction and then began to punch Sam squarely in the jaw repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to make the teen free him. The first and second punches whipped Sam's head to the side, but his cold expression remained unchanged. The third punch produced a slight sneer at the corner of Sam's lip as well as a visible thickening of his neck and traps. He glared into Superman's eyes as the hero landed the fourth punch. Sam's jaw didn't budge, braced as it was with the flexing of his neck and trapezius muscles. Superman clutched his hand and wailed after it bounced off Sam's granite jaw. Sam smirked and cut off that wail with a sharp increase in the power of his bear-hug. Superman made a gurgling noise and began to slump in Sam's mighty arms. Sam smiled maliciously and his cock began to rise in slow pulsing increments in time with the beat of his heart. These animalistic behaviors might have been unsettling, but they were undeniably human and therefore somehow less frightening than the cold, calculating aspect of Sam that had nearly taken him over ever since he had laid eyes of Superman. If such primal human behavior was currently surfacing in Sam, maybe his human intellectual characteristics weren't so far beneath. I decided to make my move before the alien part of Sam could reassert itself. "Sam!" I shouted as I ran over to him and grabbed at his arms. His muscles were like living iron. "You can't do this. Fight it Sam! It's me! It's Will!" "I...I don't want to do this...but there's a greater good." Sam nodded to himself as he squelched his doubts. "I have to do this, Will. Earth must develop without interference. If a species cannot survive its emergence into technological proficiency, it must be allowed to perish. Other, more profound discoveries await exploitation. If a morally deficient culture is sheltered from the consequences of its own irresponsibility and is allowed to emerge onto the interstellar stage, that culture would gain access to technologies that could conceivably render the entire universe unfit for life. This cannot be allowed. Earth must survive on its own, or not at all. Superman must be removed." My head spun as I tried to sort through what Sam was saying. I could see how it all might make sense to the alien part of Sam, but surely he felt some kind of connection to Earth - some allegiance. By now, Superman was out cold. Crushed into unconsciousness by the unearthly power of my best friend in the world. That had to be the key. Thinking about 'The Mission' was what seemed to strengthen the control of the alien side of Sam. But thinking about the raw muscle Sam now commanded seemed to bring his more human side to the fore. A plan began to take shape in my head. "Ok, guess you gotta do what you gotta do but, Dude! Do you realize you have been bouncing Superman around like a rubber ball for the past hour?" Sam's brow furrowed as he considered this, he relaxed his hold on the unconscious Man-of-Steel and held him at arm's length, inspecting his defeated opponent. His cock was fast approaching a full head of steam, throbbing in the air in front of him. That had to be a sensation that played havoc with his cold, rational persona. It was sure as hell distracting me from my plan. I forced myself to focus. "I haven't...got a choice." he stated, hesitantly. "Maybe, but heck, if I had the kind of muscle you do, I wouldn't do anything I didn't want to. Hell, I'd make whatever I wanted be the greater good." "That...that doesn't make any sense." Sam said, but he stared ahead vacantly with a growing smile as he considered the idea. "I'd be all like: 'Yeah, sure Superman you can stay put. You make for one fun play-date. And Earth? You step out of line and you answer to me. No blowin' up the universe on my watch.' I mean who knows Earth and what should be done with it better than someone who's lived here?" Sam smiled and bounced his pecs proudly as he thought about that. His cock was now all but slamming against his abs with every throb. "Hey, imagine what Coach Barnes and the other guys on the team would say if you walked into practice on Monday." "Ha!" Sam laughed. "I would love to see the strength coach's reaction to me now." Sam flexed his right biceps, Superman dangled unconscious and almost forgotten from his hand as he did, bobbing bonelessly in Sam's grip. "All you gotta do is show up." I grinned, egging on his thoughts. "Who's gonna stop you?" I gave him a playful punch in the arm. I heard my knuckles crack. "Who could stop you?" Superman groaned, as he regained consciousness to find himself suspended by a handful of his costume from Sam's heavily muscled, unwavering arm. "What...what hit me?" He asked groggily. My heart sank. I had almost reached something in Sam, but Superman, coming to when he did drew Sam's attention back to the embattled hero. Sam shook his head disapprovingly. "No you don't, Supes." He said wrapping his arms around the out-classed hero once more. "Aw, let him go Sam. What's he going to do to you?" I reasoned. Sam shook his head. He seemed confused and struggling to bring some order to the chaos in his head. "He's a wuss compared to you now. C'mon, show him the guns. I'll be he wets 'em." Superman glared at me looking almost as confused as Sam. Sam smiled and his arms went up into a double biceps pose. Superman dropped to the ground...or would have if Sam's fence-post-solid cock hadn't been in the way. Superman yelped in pain, his balls squashed as he straddled Sam's unyielding member. One hand went to Sam's cock as Superman instinctively sought to relieve the pressure of his own weight on his balls and the other hand shot out to Sam's thick pecs to steady himself. Superman nearly ripped his invulnerable skin open against Sam's bullet hard nipple. "Hell, yeah!" Sam roared as his cock positively fountained into the air. Sam's flexing biceps peaked even higher before our eyes as he roared with satisfaction until his cock finally finished delivering its payload into the sky. Superman hit the ground hard as Sam dropped to his knees, his cock becoming somewhat less erect. Sam shook his head and looked around. "Will?" he asked with uncertainty. "Will, what the hell is going on?" "Sam?" I gave a short nervous laugh. "Sam, tell me that's you talking...and only you." Sam frowned, and looked from Superman, who was slowly dragging himself back away from Sam, to me again. "What the fuck is going on?" "Well, apparently, you just shorted-circuited a hyper-rational alien body-snatcher through sheer studliness." I said grinning as I coaxed him to his feet. "And it looks like you get to keep the body." I said, giving one of his thick pecs a friendly punch. "Superman?" Sam moved to help the hero to his feet. The traumatized hero flinched away and cast an uncertain look in my direction. "I think it's alright now." I assured him. He hesitated, but then took Sam’s offered hand and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. Sam glanced down at himself, then froze. "Oh, shit!" He blurted as he realized that he was totally naked. "That...all that...wasn't a dream...Was it?" Superman offered Sam his hand. "More like a nightmare, son. I'm just glad it's over." Blushing an amazing shade of crimson, Sam shook Superman's hand. "Then it is over, you think?" I asked. Superman frowned and turned to Sam. "What do you think your 'friends' will do now?" Sam swallowed nervously. "I know what they'll do. They'll send in more muscle." The End

Here's another Incredible Hulk fic that I don't think I ever posted here or at the old site. Hope you like and thanks for reading. Hulk Hunter by Alan Thacker The chopper banked hard and the pilot dropped them precipitously into one of the geometric canyons formed by the city’s skeleton. Jared concentrated on steadying himself where he crouched just inside the helicopter’s large, open, side door. He had to hold on tight enough to anchor himself yet not SO hard that he wrenched free the metal hand-holds he was using to brace himself from the aircraft’s aluminum bulkhead. If that happened he’d almost certainly lose his balance and end up, at best, sprawling in an undignified manner across the chopper’s cramped cabin floor. At worst he could plunge out of the pitching crafts door prematurely. Brief, clipped bursts of static bracketed the sound of the pilot’s voice as he communicated with Jared via the tiny earpiece concealed almost entirely within his right ear. “Ground units have a fix. ETA four minutes.” Jared leaned precariously outside the hurtling aircraft, wind buffeted his very dark brown hair, but he kept it so close-cropped that it couldn’t really be said to have ruffled it. He scanned the city-scape in the direction of the chopper’s flight. A new column of dark smoke was making a slanted exclamation point against the sky above some of the lower buildings further out from the city’s center. Jared smirked slightly, wondering what the Hulk-Buster unit had just lost; A Tank? One of their Super-Mandroids maybe. Withdrawing inside, he touched the communication device in his ear. “Drop me off at least two blocks away. I want to approach on foot.” “Roger that.” The pilot acknowledged. Minutes later, the chopper slowed to nearly a stop and came to hover more than three stories off the ground. Taking this as his cue, Jared slipped gracefully over the side of the craft’s cabin-floor. He plunged ground-ward in free-fall for a couple of seconds. On impact, he bent stiffly at the knees and waist, going into a squat in order to absorb most of the kinetic energy of his fall into the muscles of his legs. Even so, the faded gray asphalt of the street shattered beneath him. Jagged, pie-wedge-shaped chunks of the street flipped into the air around him. One caught him under the squared-off jut of his jaw and shattered even further. Unaffected, he stood up, dusting the gritty residue of the impact from his chin. He glanced down at his feet to see how the specially designed trainers he wore had held up to the tremendous force of his landing. He gave a small nod of approval as they seemed undamaged. Likewise, the form-hugging fabric of his simple, dark blue, short-sleeved tunic seemed intact, as did the only slightly less stretchy, but identically blue material that composed his mid-thigh-length shorts. All of his attire had been designed to interfere as little as possible with Jared’s range of motion (This was entirely for the benefit of the survivability of the uniform, not a comfort issue). Leaving the man’s arms and legs exposed was beneficial for the regulation of his powerful body’s temperature. Jared’s smooth skin was a phenomenal heat dissipator, which was important in regulating the huge amounts of heat he was capable of generating via muscular exertion. If the man began to overheat to the point of sweating, his muscles would register a detectable, if minuscule, loss of efficiency. Jared’s physique and dress made him appear, at first glance, to be an avid runner or maybe a cyclist - though a phenomenally fit one. He was at once lithe and graceful as well as possessed of thick and powerfully cut muscle. The fact that he sported the seal of the CIA on both of the main pieces of his attire was rendered inconspicuous by his overall presentation. A casual observer would most likely presume the identical emblems to be sports attire logos. Jared strode off toward the nearby rising column of smoke. The muted sound of a distant animalistic roar told him that he was headed in the right direction. After closing the distance to the column of smoke by about a block, Jared stopped to listen carefully for clues about what was going on up ahead. He frowned slightly when he couldn’t make out anything useful. Stepping back from a two-story building a few feet away, he squinted up in the direction of the building’s roof. He squatted low and leapt effortlessly to the structure’s top, landing fluidly on its roof. He made his way to the far side of the building and planted a foot on the raised two-feet-high wall that ran the perimeter of its tarry roof. He stooped a bit, planting an elbow on his knee as he scanned the low skyline before him. A large explosion of dust and debris puffed into the air above a line of smaller buildings on the other side of the block. Jared gave a small satisfied smile and hopped the low wall without hesitation. He dropped to the ground again, this time he was able to minimize the damage of his impact to a few spider-web cracks in the pavement. Once again he headed off toward the disturbance. “STOP!” Demanded an amplified voice. Jared jerked his head in the direction of the command. Its source was about ten meters to his right on an intersecting street. Jared turned to take the measure of the owner of this booming voice. At more than twelve feet tall and gleaming with a golden metallic shine, the exo-skeletal Super-Mandroid suit of the man addressing him would have been enough to intimidate, if not outright terrify, most people. Jared wasn’t most people. “THIS AREA HAS BEEN EVACUATED. ALL RESIDENTS HAVE BEEN ORDERED TO LEAVE THIS PART OF THE CITY.” Jared was informed with authority. He grinned a gleaming white-toothed grin and put his hands on his hips. “I’m not a resident, I'm from outta town, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be on my way.” He explained, pointing in the direction he intended to go. Its operator directed the Super-Mandroid suit to move in to intercept Jared. It moved with an eerie and unexpectedly human-like agility. “REAL FUNNY, SMART-GUY.” The mechanically augmented voice boomed. “YOUR PRESENCE IS NOT ONLY PUTTING YOU IN DANGER, YOU ARE INTERFERING IN A CRITICAL SECURITY OPERATION. WE’VE GOT THE INCREDIBLE HULK ON AN ALL OUT RAMPAGE TO TAKE CARE OF HERE.” The man in the sophisticated armor warned Jared as he closed in rapidly. Just then there was a thudding, ground-shaking boom and a nearby building crumpled into a cloud of roiling dust. The spectacular collapse momentarily drew both men’s attention. “Yeah? And how’s that going for ya?” Jared smirked. Suddenly, and with an almost comically clumsy clanging, a hulking figure in armor identical to that of the man confronting Jared, fell from the sky not ten meters from their position. The other Super-Mandroid writhed on the ground, showing none of the impressive coordination demonstrated by the other robotic exoskeleton. One of the stricken unit’s mechanical arms was missing. Jared wondered if the arm of the operator was similarly absent somewhere beneath the mangled golden metal of the suit. “Guess that answers my question.” Jared said. He started to continue forward toward the epicenter of the carnage but the guy in the still functional Mandroid suit stepped in front of him. “YOU’RE NOT GOING ANY FURTHER. MY MISSION IS TO PATROL THE PERIMETER AND KEEP ANYONE OR ANYTHING FROM ENTERING WHILE THE OTHER UNITS ENGAGE THE HULK.” The guy in the suite explained menacingly. The standoff between Jared and the man-machine combination looked ridiculously one-sided. Any observer would quickly conclude that the man clad only in the skin-tight, short-sleeved attire must have had some kind of death-wish to go up against the monstrous metal entity that loomed over him. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Jared crossed his arms over his chest. He tensed the muscles of his arms and torso, which swelled and bulged in such a way that the two opponents didn’t seem quite so mis-matched all of a sudden. “Let me ask you something. Have you Hulk-Buster light-weights EVER managed to do anything other than slow the jolly green giant down for a second or two?” Jared noted that the pilot of the downed Mandroid had wriggled out of an opened hatch. The guy managed to find his feet. He appeared to be barefoot and wearing only underwear. Jared payed this other man little attention as the guy beat cheeks in the opposite direction. Silence was the only response to Jared’s question. But looking up defiantly, he could see the visored face of the functional Mandroid’s operator. The silent fuming expression there was answer enough. “Didn’t think so.” Jared scoffed. He started forward again. “You’d do well to clear outta my way.” “YOU WERE WARNED.” Boomed the voice from the Mandroid suit’s PA system. The Mandroid stepped forward and two massive mechanical hands clamped around Jared’s upper body, pinning his arms to his sides. “So were you.” Jared replied. With effortless fluidity, Jared curled his arms as he elbowed the massive metal hands apart. With a lightening shrug he was able to power his hands into opposition with those of the Mandroid. Palm to massive palm, Jared pushed back against the mechanically augmented strength of the guy in the suit. Sculpted stacks of micro-fusion-driven flat-motors that mimicked the shape and operation of human muscles within the Mandroids exoskeleton clashed with the real thing...and were handily bested. The H.U.D. of the operator’s visor flashed a dozen warning lights and an equal number of warning tones and klaxons sounded over his com system. The Mandroid’s flat-motor stacks, which would allow the operator to tame the charge of a rhino, were almost instantly overtaxed. The more mundane hydraulic back-up system fared no better as Jared flexed his unstoppable arms to full extension, driving the Mandroids arms further apart with ease. Clenching his hands into fists around handfuls of deforming metal that had moments ago been the Madnroid’s intricately articulated mechanical hands, Jared began to twist the massive robotic arms together like the ends of a twist-tie. “THIS - THIS ISN’T POSSIBLE!” Stammered the Mandroid’s operator. “WHAT ARE YOU?” Jared released the out-matched machine’s ruined arms and stooped to sink one bare hand into the metal of its left foot. That grip secured, his left arm shot out and grabbed a similar hold on the machines right foot. “Let’s just say that someone decided that it was time to send in the big guns.” He explained. He then hefted the Mandroid overhead. It teetered but was held upright by sophisticated gyro-stabilizers. That is, until Jared slammed the Mandroid to the ground with a simple flick of his wrists. Jared put just enough of his inhuman strength into this to show who was in charge without actually killing the Mandroid’s occupant. As the machine struggled to right itself like an overturned turtle, Jared twisted the massive legs together with as much ease as he’d done its arms. He’d effectively hog-tied the thing with its own limbs. Dusting his hand, Jared kicked the demolished machine out of his path with a sweep of one foot and continued on his way. “HEY...HEY! YOU BENT THE HATCH! I’M TRAPPED IN HERE!” The helpless pilot of the Mandroid cried. “YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE ME HERE.” Jared stopped, threw his hands up in frustration and turned back toward the crippled Mandroid. Grabbing it by the thick attachment point for one of its legs and the diagonal shoulder, he simply tore the whole thing in half. The pilot slipped out onto the pavement like the yolk of a cracked egg. The man scrambled to his feet tearing a tangle of interface wires from various parts of his body. Even outside the Mandroid suit, the guy was almost a full head taller than Jared. Now, instead of a sheath of golden metal, he was clad only in what looked like a pair of solid black boxer-briefs. Red circles stood out on his skin from each of the spots where he removed a biofeedback sensor from the network that had helped him to operate the Mandroid, but they almost immediately began to fade. From the intel Jared had quickly studied on his way to this location, he knew that the latest version of the Hulk-Buster’s Super-Mandroid suits multiplied by many times the strength of the wearer. To maximize this, selection of recruits to the Mandroid corp placed great emphasis on putting powerfully built guys into the suits in the first place. The guy before Jared was obviously no exception. The big guy’s wide-eyed stare moved back and forth a couple of times between Jared and his demolished Mandroid. “Just how the FUCK can you do that?” Jared gave a slight, cool smile as he cocked his right arm in front of his chest, his flexing biceps stretched the blue fabric of his sleeve. “What did you not get about the ‘big guns’ reference I made earlier?” The former Mandroid operator swallowed nervously and took a step back. He might have been larger than Jared, but there was something about the smaller man’s confidence and the look of his powerful muscles that inexplicably confirmed Jared’s total physical superiority. This would have been true even if the Hulk-Buster hadn’t just watched the lean, yet muscular Jared tear apart a state-of-the-art Super-Mandroid with his bare hands. "Okay." The Hulk-Buster said. "I'm impressed." The taller man conceded, then began to glance around, nervously. "But we need to find some cover. Being out in the open and unprotected like this is just asking for trouble. We could run into the Hulk at any moment." The man moved in closer to Jared as he spoke as though driven by some sub-conscious herding instinct; Safety in numbers. "That IS the idea." Jared muttered under his breath as he turned his back on the Hulk-Buster and resumed his course toward the area where the building had collapsed minutes earlier. He knew that the Hulk could move around with incredible speed. The delay caused by the guy in the Mandroid suit had cost him precious seconds. Not sure what else to do, the Hulk-Buster took off at a trot to catch up with Jared. Apparently able to hear even the muffled footfalls of the guy's bare feet on the asphalt, Jared called behind him without turning around. "Unless you want to be my tag-team partner when I lay into the Hulk, I suggest you piss off." The Hulk-Buster stopped cold, his face blanching at that prospect. It would have been a daunting one even if he still had his Super-Mandroid suit. He wrapped his hugely muscular arms protectively around his own bare torso and continued to cast fearful glances all around the abandoned street. Finally he decided that the only thing around that might offer him any protection should he encounter the Incredible Hulk was the obviously superhumanly powerful man about to disappear on to an intersecting street up ahead of him. Once more, the nearly naked man took off at a run to catch up with Jared. Moments later, Jared was nearly trampled by another Mandroid. This one seemed fully intact, but was running scared, hell-bent on leaving the area. Not far beyond the fleeing machine, Jared could see why. There was a virtual wall of wrecked armored vehicles forming a crude front line in the battle that had been raging between the Hulk-Buster's and their target. Beyond which Jared could finally see his quarry. The Hulk was casually, almost gleefully dismantling a stricken tank. He had a massive section of broken track in one giant hand, the metal was crumpled in his grip like it was nothing more resilient than damp cardboard. The tank itself was balanced above the Hulk's head in the brutes other hand, its naked drive wheels spinning madly. The turret lay mangled on the ground a few meters away. The Hulk tossed the remains of the vehicle over one impossibly broad green shoulder like a man discarding an apple-core, it tumbled, crashing along a deserted intersection and came to rest on its side, rotating weakly in a small circle as its exposed wheels continued to spin. "Stupid soldiers." the Hulk grumbled. "Why do they always attack Hulk? Why do they never learn?" The Hulk trudged onward, coming in Jared's direction. Jared decided to lay low and let the Hulk come to him. He wasn't sure how much of a challenge the Hulk's gamma-spawned might would prove to be against his own strength. If he could take the Hulk by surprise and end their confrontation quickly, then all the better. He assumed a non-threatening casual stance and waited for the approaching power-house to spot him. He didn't want to telegraph his intentions by moving in on the Hulk or presenting himself as an aggressor in any way. It seemed the Hulk was feeling triumphant and coming down from an anger spike. Which would mean his strength levels would be returning to his baseline resting state - another reason not to get the lumbering colossus riled up again. The Hulk kicked at chunks of debris along his path with irritation as he came. He nearly stumbled over Jared before he spotted him. When he did notice the much smaller man just to the side of his course, the Hulk barely spared him a glance as he passed. Jared stole up behind the retreating brute and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, could you point me in the direction of the nearest Kwik-E-Mart?" The Hulk turned, blinking stupidly at the question and was caught by what was probably the most devastating uppercut the green mountain of muscle had ever been dealt. Jared stood frozen for a split second, his arm still high in the air at the peak of his swing, his feet planted firmly, slightly more than shoulder-width apart. A smile of smug satisfaction formed on his face as he watched the massive Hulk sail into the air in a high arc. The Hulk tumbled end over end in one complete revolution before slamming to the asphalt flat on his back about thirty meters away. Jared hit an all out sprint and skidded to a stop, standing over the downed Hulk, ready to press his advantage. It didn't seem necessary. The Hulk wasn't moving. Cautiously, Jared planted a foot on the Hulks rib-cage and gave a few firm nudges to see if he could rouse him. Still, the Hulk didn't move. Jared crossed his arms and looked mildly disappointed as he stood victorious over the apparently vanquished juggernaut. "Too easy." He sighed. "Guess you don't know your own strength." A voice called from behind Jared. He turned to see the former Mandroid operator he'd encounter before standing near a chain-link fence not too far away. "Still don't." Jared replied then turned back to look down on the Hulk. "At least as far as what my limits are. I'd hoped the good doctor here might be able to shed some light on that for me. But I guess not." "Umm...what's your name?" The so called Hulk-Buster asked. "Jared." The more literal Hulk-Buster replied. "Warren." The other guy offered. "Look, if you have any means of communication on you, I could have a containment unit here within half an hour for our big green friend here." Warren explained as he approached with caution. "I appreciate the offer." Jared said as he stooped to shove his arms underneath the unconscious Hulk. "But I'm thinkin' I"M the only 'containment unit' that's up to this particular task." He hoisted the enormous, slack body off the ground. Both men were equally startled when, without warning, the Hulk grunted and began to flail violently. An elbow thick as the stump of an oak tree caught Jared in the temple. His vision filled with stars and he stumbled, lost his balance, then pitched backward hitting the ground hard and nearly disappearing beneath the Hulk's heavy frame as they both sprawled on the ground. The Hulk growled savagely as the brute scrambled to his feet. Warren watched, frozen in terror, as the Hulk reared up roaring at the sky. One of the Hulk's massive feet had come to rest completely obscuring Jared's head, driving it into the pavement as the enraged monster stood and glared around still bellowing with rage. Almost immediately, the Hulk fixed his attention on Warren. Warren had a block-long stretch of unbroken chain-link fence at his back, an enraged Hulk in front of him and the only one who stood a chance of helping him lay unmoving and unnoticed, ground into the asphalt beneath the Hulk's heel. Only one phrase came to mind and he breathed it out with quiet resignation. "Oh Fuck." ****** The Hulk closed on Warren like a predator. There was a murderous look in the eyes of the giant and Warren wondered if Jared's punch had so disoriented the beast that it thought that Warren had been the one who delivered the blow. He thought about the power the Hulk would put into retaliating against someone he perceived to be capable of that kind of strength. He then thought about what would happen to his powerfully built, but all too human body when the Hulk laid into him. He stood tall and squared his shoulders. Turning his head away only slightly, he closed his eyes and waited. "You've got the wrong dance partner there ya big green moron." came a voice from behind the Hulk. Warren opened one eye cautiously to see the Hulk, who had come to a stop less than a meter in front of the mercenary. A rumbling growl grew steadily louder as the Hulk slowly turned to square off against the owner of that voice. As the Hulk turned, Jared came into Warren's field of view from behind the green beast. He was wiping dirt from the side of his face and spitting grit from where his face had been stomped into the pavement. Warren noticed, however, that there wasn't a scratch on the man. His growl escalating to a roar, the Hulk pulled back his mighty right arm and slammed a punch into the ground before his feet with devastating power. Warren was thrown to the ground by the shock wave, even though only the merest fraction propagated in his direction. The brunt of the shock wave ripped through the ground toward Jared, who bounced several stories high and was hurled backward by the raw power of the punch. Scrambling quickly to his feet, Warren watched in amazement as Jared, with remarkable acrobatic skill, rebounded off the side of a building. He 'landed' on the vertical surface feet first, immediately pushing off and sailing back toward the Hulk to land almost in his original position. "Two can play at that Hulkster." Jared declared with a confident grin as he prepared to hammer the ground with his own punch in answer to the Hulk's. The grin vanished as he noticed Warren getting to his feet just behind his target. "CRAP!" Jared spat, pulling his punch at the last possible minute so as not to kill Warren with an answering shock-wave of his own. Unfortunately, his momentum carried him into the Hulk's reach. Warren felt terrible, knowing it was his fault as he watched Jared's misstep set the poor guy up in front of the waiting Hulk like a bad pitch served up to a home-run slugger. Instead of standing around gaping, Warren knew he should have made a move to get himself out of the battle-zone, so that Jared wouldn't have to worry about holding back for fear of injuring him. The Hulk connected, solidly and Jared became a blurred streak of motion as he hurtled backward. The devastating punch sent him careening into the same building he'd deftly rebounded from moments earlier, only this time his momentum was too much for the structure to withstand. Jared's body slammed through the wall explosively, near the foundation. Moments later, half the building came down on top of him. Warren backed quickly away as a cascade of pulverized masonry and other debris spilled toward him, blocking his only path of escape. Nearby, a jeep had been hurled into the intact building nearest to Jared at some point in the Hulk's battle with the Hulk-busters. It had come to rest standing on its nose, wheels pointed outward. Now, jostled by the collapsing building, it tipped over and fell onto its wheels once again. As the Jeep fell away from the building, Jared could see the battered, once-gleaming metal of a mandroid suit revealed where it had been partially knocked through the wall of the building, apparently when the jeep had been hurled into it. A triumphant roar from the Hulk snapped Warren's attention back to the current battle, he pressed himself against the chain-link fence and froze in place. He felt as though his blood was turning to ice-water as the Hulk roared his victory to the sky. The Hulk's bellowing ended abruptly in an almost comical interrogative grunt. As the brute stared in mute surprise at his opponent, who emerged from the debris cloud, brushing dust from his his body and with much irritation and struggling to recover from a coughing fit probably brought on by a lung-full of the thick dust-cloud he'd just emerged from. His Shirt hung in tatters and Jared shrugged it off exposing his incredibly powerful looking upper body. The guy had to have close to zero body-fat. He was absolutely armored with huge, impervious-looking muscles. Warren had never seen the like. It was hard to believe that Jared’s shirt had been able to obscure so much bulk. Or had it? Was this guy growing somehow? "That tears it!" Jared declared, coming to a stop toe to toe with the Hulk. He wiped at his eyes trying his best to clear them of grit and debris, then he raised his fists like a well-trained boxer, though he was still squinting through his impaired vision. "You wanna have a go at me, then let's do this like men." He challenge between coughs. The Hulk's fists were inbound for Jared's head before he'd even finished issuing his challenge. The massive green fists, thumbs-out, crashed together against the sides of Jared's head. Jared staggered back, his ears ringing. The Hulk pressed his advantage and caught Jared in the temple with another devastating punch. Jared spun and staggered and finally went down hard on his back. He immediately began to struggle back to his feet, but he was moving slowly. The Hulk closed in once more, moving farther from Warren's position as he did so. Warren turned his attention back to that downed Super-Mandroid suit. The Hulk was no longer directly between him and the suit and was currently paying him no attention. At the very least, the thing might provide him with an armored hiding place. At most, he might be able to use it to help Jared. He sprinted for the machine as fast as he could. Meanwhile, Jared had managed to roll himself over and was in the process of pushing himself up off the ground when the Hulk scooped him bodily into the air with a single hand, thick fingers nearly completely encircling his relatively narrow waist. Disoriented, and with no footing or leverage, Jared was at a severe disadvantage. In quick succession, the Hulk drew back his free arm, and hammered his hapless opponent with an uppercut that launched him high into the air. The Hulk raged and leaped after Jared's tumbling body, intercepting him in mid-air and slamming into him with vicious force as he clamped a bear-hug on Jared. They began their free fall back to the ground. The impact as the two crashed to the earth shook the ground for an area of many blocks. Warren had reached the Mandroid suit. The impact drew his attention and he noted the location where the Hulk now stood, holding Jared trapped in his mightily muscled green arms. Wasting no time, he crawled into the suit's hatch, the cover of which had been jettisoned. He was only vaguely aware of his underwear snagging and ripping as he forced his way into the debris-strewn interior. Inside he found a jumbled mass of deflated airbags, similar to the kind incorporated into most automobiles. Except these more advanced safety measures were designed to redeploy after each use, the fact that the bags hadn't retracted into their harnesses signaled that the suit had probably suffered a pretty severe power failure. Warren attempted to initiate a power-up of the suit, only to be met by a shower of sparks. He quickly killed main power and tried to run a diagnostic, hoping there was enough battery-power to run the secondary computer system. He found that the only functional micro-fusion generator was the one associated with the suit's self-contained life-support system which was designed to keep the operator safe in the event of the deployment of anesthetizing gas or immersion in water. He pulled that generator-pack and swapped it with the burned-out one that powered the emergency decoy system. He quickly selected deployment options. Then, reaching above his head into each of the suits "sleeve" compartments, he slid open two activation guards and simultaneously pressed the two buttons underneath. There was the sound of explosive bolts firing and a whoosh of released compressed air, as the suits sophisticated anti-measure decoy system deployed. Warren wriggled back outside in time to see Jared manage to power out of the Hulk's hold, only to have the Hulk kick him into a large water stand-pipe, which split, sending a huge gout of water into the air. The metal walls wrapped around his body on impact, cocooning him in the buckled steel of its shell and toppling the whole thing onto its side. When it hit, the remaining water surged out the ruined top, spreading across the ground in a jagged fan-shape. Jared turned his attention to the decoy unit. The flying mechanical sphere was ringed by two integrated, counter-rotating circles of turbine blades which provided lift and gyro-stabilization. A transparent inverted dome at the bottom housed advanced holo-projection technology whereas a micro-machine-gun turret was housed in the top portion of the basketball-sized sphere. Warren held very still and waited for the pre-programmed show to begin. He didn't have to wait very long. The Hulk had just started to move in on Jared once more, when a burst of gunfire caught him squarely in the back of his head. It did no real damage, but got the brute's attention. The Hulk turned to be confronted with what was apparently yet another Super-Mandroid unit, one that appeared fully functional. Warren took advantage of the distraction and made a dash for Jared's position. He could hear the decoy unit pelting the Hulk with yet more short, controlled bursts of fire in a bid to keep his attention. From the Hulk's perspective, the annoying fire seemed to be coming from the holographic Mandroid-suit, the illusion complete with muzzle-fire flashes from its arm-mounted guns. It didn't take long for him to make a move to swat this annoyance. Picking up a mangled Mazda Miata, the Hulk hurled it at the hologram with tremendous force. The faux suit deployed boot-mounted rockets (not found on the actual models) and sailed into the air, avoiding the automotive missile, then continued to pepper the Hulk with bullets. Annoyed further, the Hulk stormed off toward the floating Super-Mandroid mirage, which settled slowly back to the ground and continued firing. Warren reached the wrecked standpipe and searched for any sign of Jared. He found one of the man's legs protruding from the warped metal where it had imploded around the impact of Jared's body. Warren worked his fingers beneath the edge of the metal and tried futilely to pry open Jared’s prison. The steel was far too thick for him to budge. Instead, he shook Jared’s exposed leg, trying to rouse the man. With a loud shriek of protest, the ruined section of the standpipe opened up as Jared powered out of his predicament. Warren scurried back away from the spectacle of Jared’s mightily muscled arms opening up the thick metal shell of the standpipe like he was shrugging off a light blanket. “Where’d he go?” Jared asked as he jumped back to his feet. “I think I bought us some time. We should use it to get the Hell out of here.” Jared spotted the Hulk a few hundred feet away, where the brute was raging at the mandroid hologram. “Not ‘we’, you.” “Look, you’re obviously a powerful dude, but that’s the Hulk you are so intent on mixing it up with.” Warren almost pleaded, pointing emphatically at the Hulk as he spoke. “There’s no shame in admitting that you are out of your league.” “Someone’s out of his league alright.” Jared replied, seething. “If you’d clear out and stop interfering I could do my job here.” The sound of sporadic gunfire that had been emanating from the decoy unit suddenly ceased altogether. “Sounds like the last of the ammo. That means the decoy doesn’t have a lot of power left.” As if on cue, the mandroid hologram lost focus and blurred out as the decoy unit fell from the air, clanging to the ground where it lay inert. Momentarily confused, the Hulk searched his surroundings, seeking a new target for his rage. Warren watched as the two locked eyes across the distance. He felt cold dread in the pit of his stomach. Jared turned to Warren. “You need to keep out of the way this time.” “Where exactly would be out of the way? Neither of you seem to be all that into precision control when you’re going at it.” “Find some cover...NOW!” The look accompanying that command made it clear that it would be unwise to argue. Warren ran for cover. Warren swore under his breath as he made for the building where the non-functional mandroid suit lay, moving at top speed. In a single leap, the Hulk closed the distance between himself and Jared. He landed almost on top of the shorter man roaring directly down into his face. Jared merely stared up into the brute’s face. “THAT is some SERIOUS halitosis, ya big green pansy. Probably the strongest thing about you. Why don’t you nix the bellowing and you and me settle this?” The Hulk had started his swing even before Jared had finished his challenge. Again, he connected squarely with Jared, this time the mighty punch landed right on the smaller man's jaw. The Hulk's eyes bulged-wide with surprise at the result of his awesome punch. Ready for the Hulk this time, Jared barely took a single half-step back, a brilliant grin on his face as he rubbed his bristly, chiseled jaw, more in self-appreciation than in any discomfort. "That punch only brings one word to mind Hulk." Jared explained, his grin widening. "Puny." The Hulk's face darkened with rage and he bellowed with a roar that rivaled the sound of a tornado. That word was meant for every other thing in the world. It was not meant for the Hulk. Before Warren's eyes, the massive green leviathan seemed to swell with the power induced by this outrageous affront. Veins surged into relief against muscles that threatened to split the Hulk's green skin as they burgeoned even larger with granite-hard mass and power. Jared's gaze was forced upward as the Hulk's rage even caused the brute to tower higher over him, actually increasing his height. In a flash, the Hulk brought down both boulder-like green fists on either side of Jared's head. The sheer power of those fists against Jared's shoulders shattered the asphalt all around the two combatants and Jared was driven into the earth up to his calves. But he barely seemed to notice. Stepping up and out of the shattered ground, he followed up immediately with a more strategic punch to the Hulk's solar-plexus. The jabbing strike didn't look as impressive as the Hulk's brute-force assault, but Jared's much larger opponent was staggered by it. A trace of frustration mixed with the rage in the Hulk's expression as he instantly retaliated, targeting the same point between his smaller foe's pecs with a roundhouse answering punch. "Yeah!" Jared growled, thumping the same spot on his own chest that the Hulk had just pounded (to absolutely no effect) as he stepped in closer to the surprised giant and delivered another jab to the center of the Hulk's massive plate-like pecs. The Hulk clutched at his battered sternum with one hand, bellowing with anger and (to Warren's amazement) pain, even as the Hulk reflexively cocked his other thickly muscled arm, making ready to continue trading punches with his infuriating opponent. Jared made no move to dodge or block. On the contrary, he stood his ground, staring the Hulk down with a smirk as he bounced his mighty pecs, taunting the Hulk. For a split-second, the sight of Jared's powerful flexing even made the Hulk hesitate. But the Hulk's eyes moved from the man's intimidating chest to the smirk on his face and the Hulk's rage spurred him on. Again, the Hulk crashed his fist into Jared's pecs with a force greater than that of a pile-driver. His stance firmly braced, Jared's thick, broad pecs utterly absorbed the hit. The only detectable trace of the massive power in the Hulk's blow was a resounding, ground-shaking "thump" that jarred Warren's teeth even at a distance. The Hulk's eyes were wide as saucers as he stared dumbly at Jared, who merely stood, still smugly bouncing those impervious pecs with an equally smug grin. "My turn, isn't it?" He asked as he slowly brought his arms back up into a boxer's stance. "Let's get a little different angle this time." Jared dropped his next jab, targeting the Hulk's abs, even as the Hulk was bracing for another blow to his chest. Surprised, the Hulk bent forward with the impact and Jared quickly followed up, bringing his other fist upward in an uppercut motion that caught the Hulk yet again in the chest. The power of Jared's follow-up hit actually lifted the Hulk's feet from the ground and the stunned Hulk barely manage to regain his footing as he came back down. The Hulk straightened from a stoop and gasped and wheezed, trying to draw in a breath after such a stunning hit. But the Hulk recovered quickly, if anything he was even more enraged. He was determined to wear down this stupid human as he had every other foe. Anything he could do, the Hulk could do longer and stronger. He could feel his muscles powering up, fueled by his anger even as his super-accelerated healing ability was restoring his bruised pecs to full vigor. He sent his most powerful punch yet careening into Jared's rippling abs in answer to the man's own targeting of the Hulk's mid-section. The Hulk's knuckles slammed into Jared's eight-pack, his massive green fist completely covering the man's abs on impact. But unlike the Hulk, Jared emitted only the faintest grunt and remained perfectly upright as the Hulk's fist merely bounced off, deflected by abs every bit as solid as Jared's stubbornly unyielding pecs. Even this man's unprotected gut was imbued with a level of muscular power the Hulk had never before encountered. The Hulk determinedly followed through, completing the same abs/chest combo that Jared had rocked him with, only to feel the unsettling sensation of his mighty punches being effortlessly turned aside by Jared's broad, bulging pecs as easily as the man’s chiseled mosaic of thick abdominal muscles had just done. Warren wasn't sure if it was just for show, but Jared actually yawned as he lazily rubbed his phenomenally defined abs where the Hulk's punch had landed. "Gotta bring your A-game Hulk, if you wanna take on this bod." Jared sneered. He again thumped his own pecs for emphasis, only this time, he put far, far more power into his grand-standing. There was a tremendous sound: "KA-THOOOM!" Jared's inhumanly thick chest resonated with the phenomenal power of his self-inflicted blow with a sound like some cosmic bass drum and the shock-wave slammed the Hulk into a nearby concrete retaining wall, driving his massive green body deep into the shattered concrete, where he came to rest with only his arms and legs protruding from the jagged hole. Warren's mind struggled to comprehend the kind of might that could slam the Incredible Hulk into a concrete wall, embedding him like a cannonball. And not even with a direct blow, but merely the concussive force generated by Jared thumping his own thick chest. Jared threw a glance in Warren’s direction and winked. "How's that for precision control?" He turned back and headed toward the Hulk once more. Apparently, just by adjusting the way he flexed his muscles, Jared could direct the brunt of such shock-waves with the precision of a shaped-charge explosive. Which was definitely a good thing. Warren didn't even want to think about what even a fraction of such power might do to him if misdirected. Warren scurried for better cover behind a pile of debris, peeking over it to watch the ongoing fight between these two titans. Jared strode confidently toward the downed Hulk, who didn't stay down for long. With a roar, the Hulk shattered a large section of the concrete wall, ripping wider the hole formed by his impact as he extricated himself. Without hesitation, the Hulk scrambled upright and boomed across the asphalt toward Jared, who continued his own approach with that same confident swagger, unphased by the sight of an enraged Hulk bearing down on him, shaking the ground with the power of those enormous green feet. Jared spread his arms in an open gesture, inviting the Hulk to take his best shot. "I do love a sparring partner who is too stupid to give up." The charging Hulk pulled back his mighty arm preparing to hammer Jared once more, but the sight of the powerful, bare-chested man standing there with a look, not of terror but of amusement, on his handsome face confused the Hulk. Like a predatory cat whose prey refused to run, the Hulk was thrown off by the situation. He skidded to a stop before Jared, his fist still cocked to deliver a blow, but uncertain about how to proceed. "Aw C'mon Hulk, losing your nerve just because a guy’s got bigger muscles than you?" Jared teased, peering smugly up into the Hulk's face over those impossible pecs of his, giving his sternum a couple of light wraps with the knuckles of one hand, inviting the Hulk to try again as he caused waves of striations to undulate across the wide expanse of his chest. The Hulk's eyes were drawn to that display of rippling muscle and for a moment he seemed almost entranced by the sight. Then the Hulk shook his head briskly, snapping out of his nearly hypnotic state as Jared's words sank in. "STUPID humans NEVER learn!" The Hulk raged. "HULK IS STRONGEST ONE THERE IS!!" The Hulk once again hammered Jared's pecs with a punch of phenomenal power. And yet again, Jared took the hit without flinching, smiling at the Hulk's ineffectual effort as he clasped his hands behind his back, still leaving himself totally exposed to the Hulk's fury. Warren watched in awe. It appeared that Jared had the power to end this fight, but was intent on toying with the Hulk. Warren knew enough about the Hulk's nature to worry about such a cavalier approach to the power of the Hulk. Jared might have the upper hand now, but the extent of the Hulk's ability to grow stronger with his increasing rage had no known upper limit. Almost as if reading Warren's thoughts, Jared continued his taunts. "Better, almost felt that one." Jared said, but shook his head in disappointment. "Still, I thought you were supposed to really muscle-up when you get pissed. Finding out just how much is why I'm here, so could we skip over these piss-ant little love-taps?" Jared was intentionally trying to make the Hulk more powerful. Warren couldn't believe it. And clearly, Jared knew the psychological buttons he needed to push that would most enrage the Hulk - anything denigrating the Hulk's image of himself as the strongest being on planet Earth. "Or is this all you got?" Jared asked, laughing at the Hulk's efforts so far. "C’mon, step it up Hulk, it’s embarrassing to see you gettin’ rolled by nothin’ more than a decent set of pecs." "SHUT UP! Hulk will SMASH puny man!" The Hulk raged as another powerful punch thudded impotently against the point where Jared's mighty pecs met. The Hulk blinked stupidly at the grinning, wholly unaffected target of his fury. "Wow." Jared said, obviously still disappointed. He seemed to be at a loss for words to describe the Hulk's punch. "That was just...weak." He scoffed, shaking his head. The Hulk was seized by inarticulate rage. He punched Jared again. Then he followed up, not waiting for a reaction. He blitzed Jared's pecs with blow after blow. "Yeah!" Jared growled encouragement. "Show me what you can do Hulk." He laughed haughtily as the blows hammered his pecs, which seemed to withstand each new and more powerful punch as easily as the last. "Hulk will make puny man STOP laughing." The Hulk declared as his muscles again began to swell with intensified strength commensurate with his mounting rage. Jared glanced over at Warren, where he cowered behind cover. Warren couldn't be sure, but the man looked bigger now, taller. Jared tossed his head toward the Hulk and rolled his eyes. Warren stared back his jaw dropped in amazement, unable to believe what he was seeing. Despite the Hulk's mounting power, Jared wasn't even breaking a sweat. With a smirk, Jared mouthed the words "watch this", then turned his attention back to the Hulk. Jared's pecs bunched up huge into a tight flex as the Hulk's next punch landed home. Much of the power of the Hulk's hit rebounded back into the Hulk's arm from Jared's suddenly denser pecs and the Hulk staggered back a step, growling with the unexpected pain of the recoil. "Hurts don't it?" Jared teased as he bounced his pecs a couple of times before relaxing his chest once more. The Hulk snarled and roared as he resumed his pummeling of Jared's chest. Jared moved his left leg a little further back in order to more powerfully brace his stance, then he began to pay close attention to the rhythm of the Hulk's punches. He began trying to match the Hulk's pace, flexing into the Hulk's punches. Lightly at first, meeting the incoming fury of the Hulk's fist with the smallest tensing of his pecs. The sound of the Hulk's punches changed, becoming less of a "Boom" and more of a dull "Thud". As he got the timing right, Jared began to increase the intensity of his flexing. Instead of bouncing off Jared's relaxed muscles, the Hulk's fists began colliding with perfectly timed expansions of Jared's flexing pecs. The Hulk staggered back a half-step, as his fist was deflected uncontrollably in an unexpected direction with each punch. But he continued his assault. Jared smiled. He flexed a little harder and forced the Hulk back another step. The Hulk began to grunt with each punch as his fists were suddenly rebounding off the perfectly timed pulsing flexes of Jared's pecs with more force than they were imparting on impact. It was hard for the Hulk to keep his balance as his own fists were bounced back toward him more and more forcefully. The Hulk grunted and snarled with effort as he kept up his attack, even as Jared's flexing pecs intercepted and redirected his every punch. Jared flexed harder, moving forward and bulldozing the Hulk relentlessly backward. He began to humiliate the Hulk by occasionally deflecting the Hulk's fist with a precisely aimed flex of his pecs that sent the brute's fist careening back into the Hulk's own face. The Hulk snarled and raged, leaning into his punches to try and hold his ground against Jared's advance, at first, with some success. The Hulk tried to keep up the pressure and regain the momentum in their battle. He clasped both hands into one enormous club-like fist and swung against Jared like a baseball batter swinging for the bleachers. "Well, Hulk." Jared said as he pressed his finger to his ear as though hearing something over his communicator. "You're now hitting with an order of magnitude more power than your first punch." Jared cocked his head, apparently still listening through his earpiece as he momentarily ignored the Hulk's continual pounding of his pecs. Jared nodded as he verbally agreed a couple of times with the unseen party communicating with him. All the while, the Hulk continued to pound with increasing fury on Jared's relaxed pecs. The inherent muscle-tone alone of the man’s powerful chest was enough to absorb the power of the Hulk’s relentless hammering. Jared finally dropped his arm back to his side and returned his full attention to the Hulk. "Now, where was I?" He asked himself as he glanced down to watch the Hulk's latest punch bounce uselessly off his chest. "Oh, yeah." As the Hulk's next punch landed, Jared resumed countering by flexing his pecs. The expansion of muscle collided with the Hulk's double-fist and the recoil spun the Hulk around and sent him stumbling back several yards before he caught his balance again. "I was in the middle of pounding you into next week just by flexing these little ole pecs of mine." Jared explained as he once again strode forward into the Hulk's onslaught. The Hulk ran at Jared full tilt, swinging. He repeated his attack over and over. Each time Jared's pecs flexed into the impact and the Hulk's punch was forced to rebound, the force of it driving the Hulk backward again and again. The Hulk was lost in a berserker rage and only became aware of his surroundings once more when he felt his back pressed into that concrete retaining wall once again. Jared moved relentlessly forward. Crowding the Hulk to the point that he could no longer take a decent swing at him. “GET AWAY FROM HULK!” The Hulk bellowed, planting his palms against Jared’s pecs and pushing desperately. The massive brute sank slowly to his knees as he put all of his strength into trying to stop Jared . The Hulk’s mighty arms trembled with effort as he managed to hold Jared back briefly. But Jared sneered and took the final couple of steps that resulted in him pinning the Hulk against the concrete, trapping the Hulks hands between the two combatants muscular chests. “Oh come on, Hulk! Surely you can push harder than that.” Jared taunted. He placed his hands on his hips, smirking into the Hulk’s face as the green goliath grimaced with effort. “Here’s a question for you Hulkie; If you are the strongest one there is, What does that make a guy who can do this?” With an explosive flex, Jared’s pecs surged thicker. The Hulk threw his head back and roared with his supreme effort trying to resist. The trapped Hulk twisted and grunted, but he couldn’t free himself. Cracks began to radiate from the concrete where the Hulk’s back was being pressed into the wall ever more forcefully. Jared ramped up his flex again, his pecs were a relentless burgeoning wall of muscle that seemed on the verge of flattening the torso of the helpless Hulk, who wheezed loudly as the air was driven from his mighty lungs. Warren bolted from his place behind cover, heading for Jared. The Hulk might be a rampaging menace, but somewhere inside him was Bruce Banner. He felt he had a duty to at least remind Jared of this fact before the awesomely powerful man did something he might later regret. “Let...Hulk...breath...” The Hulk pleaded weakly. As he ran, Warren was relieved to see Jared step back momentarily. The Hulk’s arms dropped to his side and the giant’s green body heaved with a massive inhalation. After allowing the Hulk a couple of ragged gasps for air, Jared leaned in again, pinning the Hulk to the wall once more. “Now, tell me who’s the strongest, Hulk!” Jared demanded. “Hulk!” The Hulk insisted, snarling. He threw his arms around Jared, attempted to crush him in a bear-hug. Jared flexed his awesome muscles once more and there was a sound like a gunshot. Huge cracks spread out from the Hulk’s back in the concrete. Warren wasn’t sure if the sound was the concrete giving way or the Hulk’s ribs. The Hulk let out a blood-curdling sound that wasn’t his usual rage-filled roar. This was more like a scream of pain or terror. “Wrong answer.” Jared shouted into the Hulk’s face. Jared’s pecs, triceps and shoulders simultaneously flexed even more powerfully, breaking the Hulk’s hold. The Hulk resorted to beating his great green fists into Jared’s back as his trapped torso began to sink into the rapidly pulverizing concrete. Warren came to a stop just behind Jared. He found himself actually feeling sorry for the brutalized Hulk. “Hey! Maybe you should ease up.” “Not until I hear him admit it. SAY IT! WHO’S THE MAN?! WHO’S THE STRONGEST?! SAY IT OR I SWEAR I’M GONNA BE WIPING WHAT’S LEFT OF YA OUTTA MY CHEST-HAIR FOR WEEKS. SAY IT YOU WIMP!” At this point, Warren was pretty sure that the Hulk was out. He was totally unresponsive, his head lulling lifelessly. “That’s enough, Jared! He’s had it, he can’t hear you anymore.” Warren pointed out, growing more concerned about Jared’s state of mind with each passing second. But Jared kept ramping up the pressure, the flexing of his awesome musculature contorting the Hulk’s over-matched torso to a disturbing degree. “Jared! BACK OFF!” Warren began to hammer his fists into Jared’s rippling back, but it was like pounding on an oak stump that someone had wrapped in a sheet of thick rubber. Warren wasn’t sure that he’d had any effect at all on Jared, but for whatever reason, the frighteningly powerful man stepped back away from the Hulk, allowing the great green behemoth to slump and collapse on the ground at Jared’s feet. Jared staggered back and then whirled around, his attention fixing fully on Warren. Rage and frustration mingled on his face. He was clenching his fists causing the muscles in his forearms to writhe like they were composed of braided anacondas. Warren found that it was all he could do to keep from turning and running. Warren held up both hands and tried to placate the man. “It’s over. Just calm down.” Jared was breathing heavily, causing those Hulk-humbling pecs of his to heave like storm swells. He forced himself to take two long slow breaths in an attempt to calm himself and then began to pace back and forth along a short line like he was trying to burn off the energy his anger had fueled within him. “Sorry.” Jared offered, almost sheepishly. “I can be kinda like the opposite of our big green friend there.” He gestured to the vanquished Hulk where he lay unmoving on the ground. “The angrier he gets the stronger he gets. But with me, the more of my strength I use, the harder it gets to control my temper. His rage fuels his strength, my strength fuels my rage.” Jared stopped pacing, placed his hands on his hips and stared at the ground for a moment. “I thought I could handle it.” He shook his head disappointed with himself. “I guess it’s a good thing you were here.” Jared took a final long breath and looked Warren squarely in the eyes. “Thank You. I owe you one. You need anything, name it.” Warren sighed. His tension leaving him at almost the same rate Jared’s anger was subsiding. This first bit of relative calm he had experienced since he'd first encountered Jared, made him suddenly aware of a distinct draft. He reached behind him in a vain attempt at pulling the shredded remains of his underwear over his nearly bare ass as a local news chopper approached their position. “I wouldn't say no to a decent pair of pants?”

Okay, gang, here is the second story casting Michael Fitt as a super-hero. If you want to a look at what the real Mike is like, visit this thread: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/708-fitt-for-a-king/ Enjoy! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Internet is certainly filled with guys who like to flex for cameras. Streaming video and rippling muscles seem to go together like few things ever had. Of course, to all but a very few, Michael Fitt seemed just another hot guy who liked to bounce his pecs and flex his biceps for the members of his site. A few trusted longtime members knew exactly how special he was and helped him keep that secret. One evening, during his regular chat, Mike's only chatters were these few. Mike thought it odd, but didn't say anything other than how glad he was to spend time with his VIPs. The next week, it was the exact same folks. Even stranger. As he was signing off, he asked one particular member if he would mind instant messaging him after the chat ended. To save time, Mike used his telepathic powers to contact that VIP. The VIP didn't know for sure what was going on, but kind of suspected something about a guy who called himself Todd The Muscle God. He had been a big sensation, coming out of nowhere to have over a million followers on YouTube. The VIP said he thought this Todd person was hot, but didn't understand why everyone seemed hypnotized by him. “Thanks, man, I appreciate your help,” Mike told him. What he didn't tell his VIP was that his protection was reason he didn't give in to Todd's charms. He couldn't let anything happen to them, but he could only protect a few people that way. “This is definitely a job for Super-Fitt,” Mike said as his Super-Fitt costume appeared on his body. A check of Todd's page confirmed everything. He was a very handsome dark-haired young man with a very buff, well-defined body, not unlike Mike's, but with more hair. He had videos posted on his main page where he flexed his muscles and commanded people to give him money. Now, there was nothing wrong with this in theory, if the person doing the “hypnotizing” was merely using suggestion, giving a show and playing cocky. On the other hand, this guy needed a little investigation. Clicking on the “Members” link, of course led to a dialog box asking for a user name and password. That's what mortals would need for access, but Super-Fitt has his ways of doing things. The members page showed that a chat was in progress. There was Todd The Muscle God, sitting before the camera, bouncing his pecs and dreamily saying, “That's is, slaves. Show tribute to your master. All your money, everything you own, everything you have is mine!” Todd was hardly the first Internet muscle guy to say this. But this seemed different. Sure enough, he looked at his screen “Ah, ten thousand dollars from ILoveToddFlexing.” You're a good little slave. You get to live and serve me another week.” Then Todd looked up from his screen. “There's someone else watching. Someone who is not a slave.” He grinned. “Inferiors, I'm going to cut this short tonight. I have someone I need to talk to.” He tapped his keyboard. Super-Fitt's screen went blank, but a voice came in his head. “If you're who I think you are, you can hear me just fine right now. And you shouldn't have any trouble finding me.” In the next instant, Super-Fitt teleported himself to Todd's room where he was still sitting by his computer. “Super-Fitt,” Todd smiled evilly, “Or should I say Michael Fitt? I knew you'd come looking for me.” “What's your story, 'Todd The Muscle God'? You're not just acting cocky and demanding money. You're controlling these guys!” Todd smiled more evilly. “And why shouldn't I? You of all people should understand that?” “Oh?” asked Super-Fitt. “I can control people's minds, but what you can do! I don't think I could begin to understand your power.” Todd shook his head. “But you're all Boy Scout about it! Always trying to help people. What a waste!” “That guy you were just talking to. You told him he could live to serve you another week. What was that about?” “My slaves are mine to do with as I wish. If they don't give me what they want, then they do as I command them. If that means sacrificing themselves for me, so be it.” “You have them kill themselves?” Super-Fitt was incredulous. “Oh, I haven't had anyone do that yet, but they need the discipline. If they don't please me, they need to be punished. They're mine.” “You are sick, man!” “Oh, come off it!” Todd fumed. “You could do the same if you wanted! I have a proposition for you!” Super-Fitt was taken aback a bit. “You have a proposition for me?” “We could rule this world together! With your powers and mine together, we could have every nation on Earth groveling within a few hours!” “Why would I do that?” A yet more evil smile appeared on Todd's face. “I'm sure you know that I've got several of your members under my control. With a thought, I could have every one of them walk into the middle of the nearest freeway.” Super-Fitt thought a moment. “No, you couldn't.” “What do you mean by that?” Calmly, Super-Fitt said “I saw how you work. They need to see you or be near you for you to command them. That's why you bother with the cam shows.” “So I'll summon them and have them come back right now!” “Not on that thing you won't!” Super-Fitt bounced his pecs toward at Todd's computer, which promptly exploded in a hail of confetti. “You dare...” Todd began, full of rage. Super-Fitt smirked. “I dare! You love making people feel small,don't you? Maybe you need to know what that feels like.” With that, Super-Fitt, bounced his pecs again and then opened his index finger and thumb and slowly brought them together. As Todd began to shrink, he started screaming. “Hey! You can't do this to me! I'm Todd The Muscle God! My slaves are loyal to me!” Within a minute, Todd was three inched tall. Super-Fitt, now appearing to be a giant before him, picked him up in his right hand. “Are they now?” Super-Fitt brought Todd up and held him against his left pec and bounced it. “Not any more they're not. I've taken away your powers!” “What?” cried tiny Todd. “I can't hear the voices! They're all gone! What do I do now?” “Well, what I'm going to do is go home and undo every one of those financial transactions the guys you had under your control made so they all get their money back. As for you, I'd say just watch out for your cat.” He nodded toward Todd's grey tabby who had just entered the room. As Super-Fitt teleported away, he heard tiny Todd saying. “Nice kitty! Nice kitty!”

Digi-Game Show: Know to Grow This is another attempt in a digimon/muscle growth continuous story, but here with a bit more freedom except for that this is a digimon(/furry) only ordeal, no humans. A new TV game show has been developed in the Digital World where contestants lay on a gurney as big as a king size bed and are hooked up to an I.V. filled with a MG chemical. The rules of the game is like your basic quiz show and whenever a contestant get the right answer, 2 drops of chemical is injected into them. But if a contestant gets a wrong answer, it is game over for him/her and a new contestant is chosen randomly to play shortly after. Contestants also get to decide to choose the Random Roulette option that’s divided into 10 segments labeled with fetishes/other tfs/growth to add onto the muscle growth such as Hair Growth, Species Change, Genitalia Expansion, etc. The rules for this continuous story are that storytellers/participants determine the digimon contestants, the fetishes/tfs for the Roulette (wheel constantly changes for each contestant), how long a digimon stays in the game, and how much growth the 2 droplets cause. Also, more than one storyteller/participant can work on one digimon contestant if they wish; continuing the story where one had left off. If a writer wants to use a similar contestant but with a different storyline say to use Agumon but to take the chance with the Random Roulette or with a different tf/fetish on the wheel along with the muscle growth, you can! Just make sure to label it in bold such as Agumon/Male Enhancement or Multi-Dick Storyline at the top to prevent confusion and differentiate from another story branch and also be able to continue with a new string of contestants from there. Also, sex is allowed if you can find ways to insert it into this. I hope that this is self-explanatory and/or easy to understand. ------------------ Digimon of many types, gender, and sizes were filling the audience seats of the dimly lit TV studio. Soon, the three sets of 15 rows that have one staircase on each side and that created a semicircle around the stage were filled with murmuring and clamoring digimon. All were excited about the game show; many wanting to be chosen as contestants from the get-go while others wanted to wait and see the growth before taking a chance themselves to. As they chatted, they stared at the circular stage in front of them with a purple backdrop that’s been illuminated with huge yellow lighted letters: “Know to Grow!”. Four Veggiemon wearing headsets were manning TV studio cameras that surrounded the stage from multiple angles. Huge spotlights also surrounded the stage from up above. What was strange was also near the ceiling was a huge container filled with a dark blue liquid along with cylinder capsules filled with colored liquids attached to it with tubes connecting to it from the bottom. Next to that was a suspended multi-colored wheel with ten even sections with strange labels such as ‘Gender Bending’, ‘Male Enhancement’, etc. The murmurs and talks came to a halt when the lights of the studio dimmed. The spotlights from above aimed towards the center of the gray stage as a square opening revealed a Vademon with mike in hand and his arms spread out to greet the audience as the elevator lifted him up. Along with him was oddly enough a gurney that was as big as a king-size mattress with its wheels in a locked position. “Hello there everyone! And welcome to Know! To! Grow!” he shouted into his mike while pumping up the audience into a cheer. He calmed them down with hand gesture after a few minutes so he can speak. “Where the name of the game is the more you know the more you grow! And the prize is huge muscles and modified bods that you get while you play so there are no losers, but winners here!” “Now before we begin. Let’s establish the rules of the game, shall we?” he said while gesturing over to the gurney. “Contestants lay on this gurney while hooked up to an I.V. that’s connected to that container.” He said while a medical tube with a needle descended from the container shown from the ceiling. “Immediately, two drops will be injected into the contestant to give them a taste of growth. Contestants will begin answering a series of simple trivia questions of any subject and category and with each correct answer two drops of liquid will be injected into them. However, the liquid acts like an aphrodisiac which means that they’ll have an increased libido which will make them feel intoxicated in a sense and will have hard time concentrating on the questions. Be careful! As one wrong answer will kick you out of the game, stop your growth and we move on to the next contestant. So keep your wits up!” “Oh! Before I forget, there’s one more thing! For those wanting more than just muscle growth and feel a little daring, contestants can choose the optional Random Roulette before they get hooked up and answer questions!” Vademon said as he pointed with his mike towards the descending multi-colored wheel with ten labeled segments and towards the ten cylinder capsules filled with liquid. “The Random Roulette lets contestants to add another kind of change or transformation along with the muscle growth, but of course, as the name suggest, it’s random with every spin so you don’t know what you’ll get when the arrow stops! Not to mention the roulette changes frequently for each contestant too!” “So that’s enough for the rules and let’s gets this game started, shall we?” he said with opened arms in the spotlight as the crowd roared and cheered. “Now let’s see who our first contestant is!” The spotlights from above circled around the audience as a drumroll played. Soon, the music stopped as one spotlight turned off and the other shone brightly on a single member of the audience from above.

While going through my files for the chapters of my Nephilim story (which see in the Archives forum), I found this little piece I wrote for Michael Fitt's site, casting my favorite Internet flexer as a super-hero. Though I hadn't posted this on the old site, I figured some of the folks here might like it. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Michael Fitt was just finishing his cam show. As usual he was thanking and saying goodnight to Miami, Denver Dan, Rockhopper, SexyK and the rest of the regulars. His fans knew there was something special about Mike, but they didn't really know how special. Mike was not only a beautiful, sexy, incredibly built and strong man, he was actually the most powerful being on Earth: Super-Fitt. To say Super-Fitt had the proverbial powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men was quite an understatement. He managed to keep this part of his identity a secret, though a few of his fans did occasionally drop hints as to suspecting something. He let them. If anyone went a little too far in suggesting a connection in one of the cam shows, he would just stare into the camera with his big blue eyes and they would immediately stop. Super-hypnosis came in handy at times like this. No sooner had he turned off the camera than he heard a voice in his head: “Super-Fitt!” “Who are you?” he replied, using his telepathic powers. “We need you! Come to us!” Mike snapped his fingers, transmuting the Speedo he was wearing into his Super-Fitt costume: A black Speedo with a red S-F emblazoned on it and a black cape with a similar logo on the back. Using his super-mental powers, he pinpointed the source of the signal and immediately flew to the site in the Atlantic, within the Bermuda Triangle. A spaceship was hovering over the water. “How can I help you?” He asked telepathically. “We need you, Super-Fit! We need your powers!” “I'm always glad to help, what can I do?” “Come aboard!” A hatch opened up and the young hero flew in. Inside was a green-grey figure, about five feet tall, the classic alien. “Welcome. We need your powers to conquer the universe!” “What?” In his haste to come to the aliens' rescue, Super-Fitt had neglected to use his telepathic powers to learn that their motives were not pure. “I would never...” “No, you won't,” the alien responded. “We will find out the source of your powers and synthesize it. Soon we will have a super-army, all with your vast powers. We will be unstoppable!” “What makes you think I'd cooperate?” Super-Fitt asked, his eyes glowing with the power he was barely keeping in check. “Silly Earthling. You should know. If you don't agree, we will destroy the Earth!” “You'll have go through me!” Super-Fitt roared. He puffed out a breath and froze the alien in a solid block of ice. “Nice try, earthling” came an identical voice from behind him. “But there are many more of us where that one came from! The second alien fired a laser weapon at Super-Fitt, which was reflected harmlessly off his super-pecs. The alien made an adjustment to the weapon, apparently putting it on its highest setting and aimed it again at Super-Fitt. This time, instead of reflecting the weapon with his invulnerability, he used his power to absorb all the energy in the weapon. The alien tried in vain to shut it off, but the beam continued until Super-Fitt had drained its power cells, absorbing all the energy in his super-pecs. He pointed at the weapon and made it fly over to him using his telekinesis and then crushed it to dust in his mighty fist. “You really don't want to mess with me, buddy!” Super-Fitt bounced his super-pecs, causing a shockwave that knocked the alien off his feet. Super-Fitt gave his pecs a pat. “And that's only the beginning of what the boys here can do!” he smirked. Another identical voice came from another direction. “You are powerful, earthling, but there is only one of you. We will defeat you with sheer numbers! It's impossible to beat us!” With that hundreds of identical aliens started running in from nearly every angle. “Is that so?” Super-Fitt smiled. He bounced his pecs and then he was two. He bounced them again. There were four. Then eight, sixteen, thirty-two, sixty-four. Soon, there were 2048 Super-Fitts. “No, you won't defeat me!” the Super-Fitts cried in unison, “To me 'impossible' means nothing!” The aliens began to retreat. “Perhaps we cannot harm you, but our fleet will destroy all life on this useless planet!” Super-Fitt consolidated himself back into one body. Using his x-ray vision, he saw a hundred spaceships identical to the one he was in gathering above. With no time to lose, he teleported himself out of the ship and hovered just above the ocean below. “You really have messed with the wrong guy!” he shouted. “Your problems are about to get a whole lot bigger!” With that, he again bounced his super-pecs and began to make himself grow to giant size, doubling in size with each bounce. Soon his feet were on the ocean floor, but the water barely reached his knees. Using his super-breath, he drew the entire fleet into his now giant-sized mouth. Turning his head up, he then used his super-breath to propel the entire fleet into deep space, sending them careening so far and so fast that by the time they would be able to regain control of their ships, they would be billions of light-years away, in an uninhabited galaxy, unable to get back to Earth or anywhere else where they might do harm. “Well, that takes care of today's workout!” Super-Fitt quipped, as he restored himself to his usual proportions. He had saved the world and the entire universe from a threat greater than they would ever know. He flew home, knowing his dogs needed walking and his site needed updating. The mundane activities of life were now safe from alien invaders.

Dr. Black looked down at the device he had created. The Time Trader, truly a master-piece even among his numerous other works. And with the local high school, he could look forward to seeing the results of his experiment. Even though he was old in age and he lived alone, he had never truly lost what he enjoyed - an experiment now and then in transformation. Watching a change, to him, was as good as a sensual experience. It was all he could hope for in his How did it work? Well, in exchange for a set number of years, the student who was using the device would gain a corresponding amount of muscle. As Black remembered, it was about 1 year for 10 pounds of muscle added to their frame. A sixteen year old at 160 pounds would become a 17 year old at 170 pounds at the lowest setting. He had already used his employment as the biology teacher to contact a student at the school who was interested in attaining some community service hours in assisting the "poor, old" professor in his research. He had no intention of spoiling what his device was really going to do, letting them discover the result was half the fun of it. He also knew he made the device's "result" slightly addictive. All for the sake of a good experiment, so he told himself. And so as he ruminated, he heard a knock at the door. The Doctor got up with the aid of his cane and walked to the door, looking out to see his first test subject. Bradley Weston was a sixteen year old jock, already rather strong, though he worried about hitting a plateau. He had a mind to get his community service done early, so he didn't have to worry about it at the last minute. With his auburn hair and handsome face, Bradley was the talk of the cheerleaders. While Brad kept his bisexuality secret, he hoped to become open about it when he went big in the NFL. His girlfriend and his boyfriend both knew about each other, and respected his privacy. Opening the door, Black greeted his young, erstwhile assistant. "Hello, Bradley. Rather nice day, isn't it?" "Yeah, Doc, just got done with practice at the school. Amazing weather these days. Beats the crap outta winter." Said Bradley as he took in the odd appearance of the doctor's house. He knew Black was kinda weird, but...yeesh. Black followed up with; "So, before we begin your community service, if I may ask, choose a number, 1 through 5..." Bradley thought that was a rather weird question, but decided it probably had something to do with his task, and said, "Hmm, I'll have to choose..."

Trying my hand in a continuous story that's different involving muscle growth and digimon and for anyone into muscle-mons and fur. This starts with Veemon exploring a jungle ruins temple and comes across a jockstrap with muscle growth properties. No limitations to growth, other digimon can join in on the fun and growth (and humans too though with the furry tag would like to keep it focused on the digimon), any other tf (physical/mental) can be included too, write as long as you want, and sex is allowed. ------------------ Around 10AM in the morning, blue and white dragon was walking through a thick jungle forest setting in the Digiworld rather than being stuck alone in Davis's house while he was at school with the others. Veemon was walking around and admiring the tropical vine covered green scenery which was better than being cooped up in Davis's messy room. He walked north for nearly an hour until he discovered something unusual. He came upon what looked like an ancient grey stone temple that was roughly 40-50 feet high, looking Mayan in design and structure with a large staircase leading to a huge entrance. Curiosity had gotten the better of him and decided to go in. Besides, he had nothing better to do at the moment so why not. After nearly 20 minutes of stair climbing, finally reached the top of the moss covered and worn out structure. He went through the entrance only to find a room with a hole in the floor which has another set of stairs leading deeper into the temple. He then went down the spiral and stony staircase. Thankfully, there were lit torches along the walls of the staircase that helped out with his visibility. The torches shed light on some strange runes and pictures on the wall that were hidden in the shadows. He noticed that these pictures depicted creatures that looked like digimon, but were more humanoid with great physique and muscle. It puzzled Veemon for a while, but just continued on. While walking down, he had past some empty halls with rooms. He checked some of the rooms on each level, but mostly the results were that each room laid barren. He would find a room or two with worn out weapons and rusty exercise equipment, but nothing of real interest. At least, they weren't booby trapped. Though it lead him to believe that a heavily warrior and barbarian civilization have lived here once. As he continued what seemed to be about an hour of going down stairs, he reached the bottom of the ancient stairway, only to be face to face with a giant stone door with to huge stone statues with hulking muscles on each side. It took tremendous amounts of effort to push the heavy doors, but managed to open it. He was shocked to see what was inside. In the room was lightly decorated with a few cloth decors on the walls and some small furniture on the sides with vases. In the middle of it all was a small stair case of stone of course, which had a small marble pedestal on top. On top of that was a leopard skin colored jockstrap. It was pretty odd that an undergarment like this would be considered valuable to put on display like this. Was it a symbol of their culture? Does something happens when you wear it? Curiosity clouded Veemon's mind and felt very compelled to take it and see. He then approached it ever so slowly. He went up the steps and was near the pedestal. He reached out and swipe the jockstrap off its resting place with ease. However, he then realized how some of these temples have booby traps and that he wasn't prepared for them so he embraced for impact of whatever trap might come his way if there was one.

It was rare if I said I hated someone. But this guy I did. I hated him. With a burning passion that rivaled the sun, I truly disliked him. It wasn’t because how he looked. Sure he had a beautiful, rugged face and the body of a muscle god, but that wasn’t the reason I hated him. It was because he didn’t deserve it. I might not have the right to decide who deserves what, but screw that, he was too much of a pompous ass to be that lucky. And I would be the one to change it all for him. We were fourteen years old, but as different as can be. I was a typical nerd. Although I lacked the stereotypical glasses and pocket protector, I definitely was one. He was more than your stereotypical jock, always wearing the least he could to show off his physique. Constantly lifting, eating or bullying anyone he felt like. I was around 4’8” and maybe 80 lbs. He was at least 5’8” and had to be over 150 lbs. My body was frail and skinny while his was overflowing with muscle, from this bull-like neck, to his thick chest, his bulging arms, well-defined abs and trunk legs. I was an A student while he was failing all his classes but somehow passing. But I didn’t hate him for any of that. Hell, I knew a lot of jocks were similar to him. I didn’t like it, but I was a low man on the totem pole. Not much I could say about it. What sparked my hatred was something a lot deeper. While I never was a sporty kid, I could do ok in gym. I couldn’t do the hundreds of pushups and sit ups like the jocks, but I did around average. This day in gym though was a physical test. You had to finish a large list of physical activities and you couldn’t leave until they were done. Of course, the jocks blazed through them and got to leave quickly. A few others and I were pushed to the limits of our endurance and barely finished in an hour. We slowly trudged to the locker room to quickly change and get to our class in time. But once we entered the locker room, the door quickly shut behind us and we turned to see Rick blocking the door. He slowly swaggered up to us and started to taunt me and the two others that weren’t as fit as him. Sadly, I got the worst of it as my head barely reached his stomach. He was close to three times my size, bulging with muscle from playing sports since he was a toddler. Eventually, after taunting and bullying us, he shoved us into the pile of dirty uniforms and locked us in the laundry area. From the time that class was over until football practice started, we were trapped. I knew we were in trouble because one of the guys was complaining that his arm was hurt. I looked at it and I could tell it was dislocated. We were finally found and released, and something happened that pushed my rage over the limit. He was standing there in his jock strap, his package filling out the mesh fabric. With a cocky grin on his face and punching his palm at us, he looked at us and dared us to say anything. Of course, my two friends looked at the floor, but I returned his gaze with all the rage I felt. Then he said, “Looks like some babies fell in the laundry. Aww, and one of them has a boo-boo.” The whole room started laughing as the coach checked out my friend. “Ok little guy, we need to get you to the doc,” the coach said with concern in his voice. Most of the laughter in the room died down but Rick laughed even louder. I understood the law of the jungle, the biggest and strongest usually gets their way, but I vowed right there that I would make sure Rick paid, and pay dearly. I knew how I would have to exact vengeance. I had to become bigger and stronger. But the fact that I had genes geared more toward intellectual activities combined with Rick’s natural physical deposition made it impossible to get to where I wanted to be naturally. Thankfully, my father was a genetic engineer. His job interested me all the time, so I was able to read a few of his notes and knew vaguely what he was working on. In a nutshell, almost every aspect about a person can be tracked to a certain combination of chromosomes in that person. If you could alter these chromosomes, you could change a person, from their hair style to their tendency to learn and remember items. That was the key to my revenge. I spent the entire year studying my father’s work and even making improvements on it, without his knowledge of course. I could not risk him finding out why I was so interested in his job for fear he would attempt to sway me from my path. The whole year was rough for me though, and it constantly reminded me why I couldn’t stop. Rick was constantly growing bigger and stronger. He was becoming unstoppable. Plus he was the biggest homophobe I’ve ever seen. If someone was looking at him for a moment too long, he would make sure they felt pain, usually outside the range of a teacher or adult. I lost a half a dozen friends that year, all of them transferred to another school out of fear. It just deepened my rage toward him. It was sad that I felt so much hatred toward him. If he were a nice guy, he would have so many devoted followers, me included. Yes, I was one of those “fags” that he hated so much. I enjoyed looking at beautiful women and handsome men alike. He never caught on to me, but his body way very attractive. If only his attitude didn’t overshadow it so much. I had to sit and watch him become even sexier as the year went by. His clothes constantly got tighter as his arms, chest and legs grew and swell. But I also had to watch as his cockiness grew to where it couldn’t be contained. No one, except a teacher or a fellow jock, was safe. By the end of the year, he was 5’10’’ tall and pushing 180 lbs, as I heard quite often in gym class. Thankfully, the year ended and summer started. I spent part of my summer in my father’s shadow. I was absorbing as much knowledge as I could, unlocking the secrets to human potential. My father was so proud of how interested I was that he allowed me to see everything. Eventually, I had all the information I needed to carry out my plan. The plan was simple. My dad’s research center had the genetic information of thousands of people. Every type of body from small and skinny guys to massive bodybuilders was on file. Geniuses and average people, hairy, smooth, horse-hung, almost every type of characteristic was on file here. I would simply choose the best traits I could find and “upgrade” myself. But then, I thought of something even better. Why not change Rick while I’m at it? Sure, it was evil, but I didn’t give it a second thought. I prepared my batch first, since it was easiest. Using my hair as a DNA sample, I combined the genes of the tallest guy, a 7’1” pro basketball player, a 350 lb world champion powerlifter, a professional bodybuilder, a world famous porn star, and some other traits like body hair and other adjustments. From my calculations, I would eventually be amazing, and it would look all natural since I had yet to hit puberty. Rick’s changes on the other hand would be harder to do, but so worth it. I chose the smallest and geekiest guys I could find. I wanted him to become everything he hated. The genetic makeup of three exceptionally skinny and weak guys were combined with the desire to learn and some of the female data that was on file. He was going to go from super jock to estrogen-flooded nerd. I made sure that all his muscles would disappear and there would be no hair to be found, including the pubic region. Speaking of which, by the time the process was finished, he was sure to have no more than a two-inch cock when fully aroused. Then I went further. New research had shown that homosexual tendencies were genetic too. I went crazy with that knowledge and made sure that he would be so homosexually inclined, he would make a drag queen look like a Hell’s Angel. The final component was getting a sample of his DNA, a fresh hair from the root would do well. This was the biggest risk of all. I doubt he would figure out why I needed it, but if he caught me, who knows what would’ve happened. I knew that he spent everyday at the school’s gym. The guy was dedicated to say the least. It was sad that his good qualities were outweighed by his bad ones. Well, at least I would fix that. He would definitely be humble by the time this was all over. I went to the school one afternoon after 6 p.m. and hid out in the locker room. He was the only one still in the gym that late. Everyone besides the coach had left for the day and he was pumping away. I had to wait about an hour before he came in. He was topless and was wearing a pair of extremely tight shorts. The kid was ripped and pumped. Each muscle was glistening with sweat and full to bursting with blood. Seeing him like that did make me a bit hard, but I was there for a purpose. He got naked to shower and I could see him from my hiding place. His cock hung down a good six inches down his leg with a backdrop of lemon-sized balls. I could tell why he was so proud and cocky in the locker room. Not only did he have a physique to die for, he had a cock that rivaled most grown men. He went into the shower and while I was tempted to watch his huge body get wet and soapy, I stayed hidden. He came out after around ten minutes with a towel draped around his waist. He quickly dried off, granting me another view of his superior body before putting on a pair of shorts. He tossed his jock in the laundry basket, and then strolled out of the locker room. I waited a couple of minutes before quickly getting out of my hiding place. I went to the laundry, grabbed his jock and quickly found enough hairs for my purpose. I put them in a vial and stuffed them in my pocket before I felt a huge hand on my shoulder spinning me around. “What the fuck is this?” Rick’s voice bellowed, even deeper than I remembered. I had been caught. He grabbed the jock out of my hand and screamed, “What are you doing with my jock you little faggot?” When I didn’t answer him, he balled up his fist and punched me in my gut. I felt the wind rush out of me and dropped to my knees. “What were you doing you little bitch?” I couldn’t respond quick enough for him. He picked me up again with his free arm, lifting me up to his eye level with ease. “I bet I know what you were doing. You were wondering how a real man’s cock smelt, weren’t you,” he said while shaking the jock in my face. I shook my head no and he responded with a backhand across my face. “You want to smell this real man, don’t you faggot?” He shoved the jock into my face and pushed hard. While I might have enjoyed this some other time, right now I was terrified. He then dropped me to the ground and I fell backwards. I scrambled away from this monster only to find myself pinned against the lockers. I saw this cruel grin come across his face as he pulled down his shorts. “Bet you want to see how a real man tastes too, don’t you?” I shook my head as best I could, but he already had his huge tool out and had closed the distance between us. Standing me up and gripping me tightly so I couldn’t move, he stroked his monster hard. I sat there in awe and fear as I watched it swell with blood. It grew inch by inch until it was a rod of unyielding flesh, just as hard and powerful as the rest of him. I was slightly aroused and if this was voluntary, I would’ve gladly serviced it, but this wasn’t a dream. Instead, it was a nightmare. “You look like a woman, now I’m going to use you like a woman,” he growled and squeezed my shoulder till I had to scream in pain. Soon as I did, I felt my mouth fill with his huge meat. I tried to move my head back, but it was met with the unmovable steel lockers behind me. I was trapped, unstoppable flesh in front, unmovable wall behind me. He spent twenty minutes fucking my mouth against my will. I tried to bite it, but it was so big and hard that I couldn’t close my jaw properly and he squeezed my shoulder in response, hurting me. Then he would fuck my mouth even harder. Somehow I learned to deep throat his massive organ, otherwise I would’ve choked several times. Finally, he tensed up and started to shoot. I could feel the burning liquid pour down my throat and into my mouth. He pulled out and continued to fire white hot bursts of cum all over my face. I choked a little and wanted to spit it out, but he held me and forced me to swallow his huge load. He smiled at his physical conquest of me. He had forced me to become his bitch and was pleased at his easy victory. “You’re a good bitch cocksucker. I’ll have to keep you in mind when I’m horny.” He laughed and dropped me, after wiping his cock clean on my face, then tossed his jock in the laundry and said, “I better not catch you in here sniffing my shit. If you want to smell me, come get the real thing, and if I’m in a good mood, I might let you and not kick the shit out of you.” I remained there for a few moments letting my rage and fear wane. Once logic returned to me, I took out a spare vial, collected some of his cum, then washed my face and went back to the lab. I had all I needed to make sure Rick paid. Once back at the lab, I quickly mixed up the two concoctions, after making sure I was bigger, stronger and more aggressive than I had intended to be and Rick would be even smaller, weaker and more passive. I took both home and, before I went to sleep, put Rick’s into a school sports bottle and downed mine. I knew the process was going to be painful, but the next few days were hell. It felt like the worse case of flu known to man, but I knew that it was just my genetic structure remapping. Thankfully, since I had combined it with my original DNA, my body would not reject the changes. That was the key to the whole procedure succeeding. I discovered that my father’s colleagues missed it in all their trials. Sadly, he would have to figure that out for himself. If I had told him, he might have figured out what I was up to. After the sick feelings had passed, I went ahead with phase two. I snuck into school again, this time being a lot more careful. I went into the locker room while Rick was in the shower and switched his bottle with the one I had prepared. Ignoring the faint desire to catch a glimpse of his muscular body once again, I went home and thought about how things were going to change. It wasn’t even a month before I started to see a difference. In less than a week after I recovered, my body sprouted a thick layer of very nice black hair. It covered me from neck down to my chest, along my stomach, into my crotch and down my legs and arms. I knew already that it was working because my father was not a hairy man. There I was though, covered in a layer of fur that outdid even Rick. Plus, my hunger grew by leaps and bounds. I started to put away two, then three servings of dinner when I barely could eat one. My level of activity increased too. I could barely hold still. I would wake up in the morning and immediately do a few sets of pushups. It started with ten. Then I could do twenty, then the next day, thirty. It kept increasing until a week later I could do a hundred easily. I could feel the changes happening in my body. I was getting stronger and more athletic as each day went by. At the end of the month, my dad bought me an Olympic weight set and I asked him to contact the bodybuilder and powerlifter so I could get some advice. He didn’t see any problem with that, and in a few days, I had all the knowledge I would need to make the best out of my new gifts. They were glad to help, happy to know that I was as interested in their activities as I was in my father’s. Near the end of the summer, I had grew a foot and a half and increased my weight by almost 150 lbs. I was running every day, learning how to play baseball and football, even powerlifting thanks to visits from my new friend Felix. He was the powerlifter that was in the study and was interested enough in my progress to visit and help. Thanks to him, I was even stronger than I would’ve imagined. I was benching 185 lbs and squatting over 300 one month before school started. Both Felix and I were surprised at my gains. Even with my ‘adjustments’, I would not have guessed I could get so strong so quick. But something wasn’t right. My father wasn’t as surprised I was and I could tell he knew something. The day I found out why he wasn’t surprised I’ll never forget. I had just came out of the basement with Felix and headed to the fridge. My dad was looking at me as I strode over. I was shocked at how different we looked now and I became concerned with the thought of him catching on. Instead, he greeted me with a smile and asked me to sit down. “Son, I thought now would be the best time to tell you something important,” he started. I thought it was going to be one of those ‘birds and bees’ talk by how he was rubbing his hands together, but for some reason, it felt a little different. “I thought it would be best if you heard it from me. Steven…” he took a deep calming breath, “your mother and I aren’t your real parents.” I was almost floored. I slumped in the chair. How could the people who’ve raised me for thirteen years not have told me. He continued, “We thought it would be best to tell you now, seeing as how you’re hitting puberty. I’ve talked with your father and we’ve come to an understanding…” I blanked out after the words ‘talked with your father’. “My father?” “Yes Steven. You see, Felix is your biological father.” My jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me, right?” “No, I’m telling you the truth. Surely you’ve seen it yourself. You are by far hairier than me, plus you’re half a foot taller than me and still growing. You’ve read the research and you know that it’s highly unlikely that all the differences could come from our gene pool. We knew this day was going to come and now we want you to spend some time with your real father. Your mother and I are glad we could influence your life a bit, but you do need to get to know your dad.” He got up and walked over to the basement and opened the door. Standing behind it was Felix. Obviously, this was orchestrated from the beginning. “Treat him good or you’ll have me to answer to,” my dad threatened. If I were in a better position, that would’ve made me laugh, but I was lost in my thoughts. Felix walked over to me and placed his huge hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him and I could see the love and care in his eyes. I knew that I did need to spend time with him. This man was my father just as much as the people I’ve been with for thirteen years. I had to find out what was the reason he felt he couldn’t raise me. My mother brought me my duffel bag with some clothes and I gave both of them a hug, noticing how different it felt now. I left my house followed by my massive dad, Felix. He led me to his massive Dodge Ram 3500 and I jumped in. He started driving and I stared out the window. A thought came unbidden across my mind that worried me beyond what just happened. All the adjustments I made to my genetic code was taking into account me growing up to be just like my dad normally. If I was going to be as big as Felix naturally, what would I look like with all the improvements I did? The car ride was uncomfortably silent and long. Felt like an eternity before we pulled up to this log cabin. I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t realize we were so deep in the woods. He grabbed my duffel bad and led the way in the house, with me following slowly behind him. The place looked massive on the inside and fairly modern compared to its external appearance. I walked in the door and he turned around and placed the bag on the floor. “So, can I get a hug from my son?” he asked in his gruff voice. I complied with him, feeling his powerful embrace. He let me go and started to speak. “I’m sure you have a ton of questions floating around your head and I promise that I’ll answer them all. I’m sure the first one is ‘Why?’. Let’s sit on the couch and I’ll explain.” I followed him to a comfortable black leather couch. I sat down and he sat not close to me but not far either. Seems we both had a lot of adjusting to do. “Well,” he began, “to start off, I did try to raise you a bit. Your mother died during childbirth and I kept you for almost a year. But I came to understand that a kid should have a normal family, and I definitely wasn’t that. So, I went to Samuel and asked him to take care of you. He agreed, but he wanted me to be there for you, especially when this time came around. I was informed of everything you did and was really pleased when you were interested in powerlifting like your old man here.” I saw a tear stream down this big man’s face as he brushed it aside. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you for so many years, but I promise I’ll do as much as I can.” I looked at this guy and knew deep down in my heart for the first time tonight that he was my father. I also broke down into tears and the wall between us disappeared as he quickly slid to me and wrapped me in his powerful arms. He held me in a hug until we both stopped crying. After our moment of bonding, my dad spoke up, “Well sport, how about some dinner?” I perked up almost immediately and he chuckled, “Yeah, you are definitely my son.” We both laughed at the joke and I followed him into the kitchen. I looked around the place as we walked. This cabin was a true bachelor’s pad. Just what a couple of guys need. No fancy curtains, throw pillows, or china, just a Spartan living environment. For some reason I felt very comfortable here. I guess that was a good thing since I probably was going to be living here. Felix went to the huge refrigerator and opened the double doors. Inside was the most meat I’ve seen in my entire life. Shelves and shelves of beef and steak was stuffed inside, along with various vegetables. He turned to me and said, “I’m sure you’re going to be serious about getting big, am I right?” I nodded in response. “Good man. Well, I’m going to show you how a real powerlifter eats. Think you can keep up?” I was about to respond when my stomach roared loudly. I looked down at it while my dad laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes.” My dad retrieved four large steaks and a bag of broccoli out of the fridge. He showed me where all the cooking stuff was and how to operate the grill and veggie cooker. I was mildly surprised at the amount of preparation that was involved in a power lifter’s meal. Around half an hour later, we were dining on the best steak and broccoli I’ve ever had. My dad explained throughout the meal the benefits of nutrition as it pertained to power lifters. I thought I knew a lot, but the depth and scope he went into blew me away. I knew I had a lot more to learn, and now I had a dad that could guide me. After dinner, he showed me to the guest room, promising me that I would be able to get whatever I wanted in it later. It was bigger than my old room and had a nice size king bed with a set of plain white sheets and a wool blanket. Again, nothing fancy in the room, some oak furniture and a desk and chair was all that was in the room. He gave me a huge hug that lifted me off the floor, powerful and firm, and wished me a good night. I got dressed and jumped in the bed. It was quite comfortable. It was fairly firm, but had enough give and I was relaxed fairly quickly. But my mind wouldn’t let me sleep. Instead, I was going over the events of the day. From one family that I loved to a man that I had respected, adored and was attracted to. Still, the biggest thing that was on my mind was the future. I had not prepared for something as wild as this. I probably should’ve made sure my genes matched my father’s. But now I know my lineage is that of a 6’6’’ 350lb former world class powerlifter. Now, where would that leave me. I knew I was going to be huge, not just because of the training my new dad was giving me, but because of the knowledge my old dad left me with. My genes were probably the most advanced thing on the planet. If I were destined to be a little geeky guy when I grew up, my genetic modifications would’ve let me be as big as my new father. But that’s not the case. Instead, my potential is virtually unlimited. I couldn’t even fathom how big I was going to end up. It was quite possible that I would never stop growing. A titanic muscle monster, the largest and strongest man ever, it was all possibly in my reach. A couple of hours later, Morpheus was still eluding me, so I decided to get up and get a glass of water. The wood floor beneath my socked feet didn’t creak at all as I slowly made my way back to the kitchen. I was quiet because it had to be around midnight and I didn’t want to wake up my dad. A man that big though must sleep like a Kodiak bear though I thought to myself as I rounded the corner into the main area. As I approached, I noticed the warm lights of a television and a low murmur. When I turned the corner, I saw something that shocked and amazed me. My dad was watching porn, not just any porn, but gay porn. He was stretched out on the couch with his head toward me. I could gaze down his huge body, over his thick pecs, down his hairy belly and saw him working his meat like an expert as the guys on the T.V. went at it. The hairy and muscular top was working on pounding his smaller partner’s ass like a sledgehammer. The volume was cut down low, but you could still hear the slapping of the big guy’s nut sack against the tight ass of the little guy. I could hear my dad moaning softly as he slid his meaty hand up and down his cock and I started to get hard in my boxer shorts. I shifted my weight to lean against the doorframe so I could get more comfortable and was about to pull out my cock when the floor groaned loudly. My dad jumped up and turned quickly to see me standing in the doorway and he fumbled for the remote. “Um son! I..uh..I didn’t know you were awake!” he panicked as he pushed a button on the remote. But instead of turning the T.V. off, it went to max volume and the room was filled with the sounds of fucking. My dad’s jaw dropped and I couldn’t help but laugh. He calmed down and pressed the pause button, freezing the two muscle guys in mid orgasm. “That’s quite an interesting video you’re watching dad,” I joked. “Um…well, you know…I…um,” he stumbled. Then taking a deep breath, he sat back down and motioned for me to come over. I walked over, noticing how large his cock looked even soft. “Well, I knew I was going to have to tell you this sometime, but I wasn’t expecting this conversation would be preceded with this,” he waved at the big screen as I sat down. “I am a bear, son, I’m gay,” he muttered as he slid back down on the couch. “I’m hoping it doesn’t bother you too much, but I can understand if you aren’t comfortable with it.” I chuckled and responded, “It’s ok dad, I think I’m bisexual myself. I enjoy a beautiful woman, but those two on the TV are hot as well.” He exhaled deeply and relaxed a bit, “Whew, I’m glad to hear that. I thought that this was going to be a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. So, when did you realize it?” “Well, a couple of years ago,” I started, remembering the malice I felt but biting it back, “I met this guy that hit me in a way women didn’t. He had the muscle and the ruggedness and was attractive to me just like a beautiful woman.” My dad nodded a bit and replied, “So, did you ever…you know?” I recoiled, “Hell no dad, I’m still a virgin. Besides, this guy would pound me to a pulp for a lot less than hitting on him.” I could tell my voice had a bit more bile than I intended, but it was too late to take it back. My dad, thankfully, didn’t press the matter. “I found out after your mother died. I loved her so much and when she died, I thought I would never love again. Women didn’t appeal to me much any more. Sure, some were sexy and I kinda lusted after them, but it wasn’t love. In the end, it was a guy like that,” he pointed to the small guy on the screen “that showed me I still could love a person. I’m like you, I can appreciate a beautiful woman, but now I know that I love being with a guy that is furry and powerful like me. There’s something about the bear foreplay. The wrestling for dominance, the feel of muscle against muscle and then the ultimate conquest followed by hard, hot and rough fucking that appeals to me so much.” I could see his cock rising as he spoke, and mine was too. It was kinda weird, sitting with my dad, getting a boner, but for some reason, I didn’t feel as self-conscious as I thought I would have been. My dad looked at me in the glow of the T.V. and obviously saw my arousal. “Looks like you need to take care of something. I’ll leave ya alone to handle it.” He started to get up but I stopped him, “Umm, I wouldn’t mind you sticking around. Maybe you could show me some techniques.” I might have blushed also. Felix smiled and sat back down. I slipped out of my shirt and boxers and stood up before him. He smiled and said, “Looking real good there boy. You are getting a pretty good build so far, and you’re barely 15.” I nodded in response. “And look at that tool you’re sporting. You’re even bigger than I was when I was your age.” “How big are you now dad?” I had to ask. It was almost unrealistically thick and long. “The big boy here is a twelve-by-eight incher. Needless to say I was quite popular when I was young.” I sat down next to him and slowly reached my hand out. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, but I felt the need to just touch it. My hand cautiously wrapped around his throbbing member and I looked up to see my dad smiling. “It’s ok boy, in here, we’re just two guys helping each other out.” My grip tightened around his hard cock. It was an amazing sensation, the feel of this huge man’s thick cock. It felt similar to mine except he had a few inches on me. Then I felt his hand on mine. I gasped aloud. My dad was an expert. His hands were rough from all the lifting he did, but it only added to the sensations. He grabbed the remote, resumed the porn and turned the volume to normal. We jerked each other off that night while watching his bear porn. Seems it was a wrestling video. I had to agree with my dad that it was very hot. My favorite scene was between two equally large bears. Just them standing there in their tight jeans, one holding the other in a massive bear hug and commanding the other to surrender, before dropping him and rolling around on the ground was amazingly sexy. I could feel my dad’s cock expand as his breathing got deeper. He was getting close just like I was. “C’mon son, let’s blow together. Tell me when you’re ‘bout to come.” His hand started to move faster, stroking the head of my penis. I matched him stroke for stroke as he expertly jerked me off. Soon, I was approaching the edge. I panted out how close I was and he said, “Shoot it for me boy, shoot a huge load.” I arched my back and released. I could feel my balls empty and I felt the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced. My dad shot at the same time, and I could see it spurt into the air just like mine. Almost simultaneously, our spunk fell down to our chests and spread slowly around. Then the second and third shots rained down on us. I felt my dad’s cock pulse in my hand as it spit his remaining jizz. It felt like an eternity in those few moments; me sitting there with my hand on my dad’s cock, his hand on mine, and both of us covered in warm cum. He reached over, rubbed my cum into my chest a bit, then took his hand, rubbed his and my cum into his furry chest, then rubbed my chest with the mix. “That was great dad, I loved it,” I said after I recovered a bit. “Yeah, you’re a little machine. Those balls of yours were full of spunk, but I think we need to shower now.” He stood up and reached out for me. I took his hand with confidence as he pulled me up into another massive bear hug. I enjoyed this man’s hugs more than anything. He led me to the master bathroom and handed me a towel and washcloth. He turned to leave and I asked, “Aren’t you going to take one too?” He smiled and said, “Yeah, right after you finished.” In what I considered a bold statement, I replied, “There’s plenty of room for both of us in here.” He smiled then came in the shower with me. He stood behind me and pressed his huge body against mine as he turned on the water. I felt his fur caressing my back as the warm water cascaded down us. He grabbed a cloth and a bar of soap and started to lather me up, holding me in a half hug as he washed the both of us. It was an amazing experience. I never knew a shower could be so sensual. I was falling so deeply for my dad and I could tell he felt something about me. We might not ever have sex, but moments like these were certainly in our reach. I washed his huge furry body, flicking his nipples and rubbing his swollen muscles. He moaned softly as I worshipped his huge body, then returned the favor. After a half hour of this, we got out, wrapped ourselves in a large, wooly towel. Quickly drying ourselves, we went into his bedroom. I was about to leave and head back to my room, but he held me on the shoulders and said, “Do you want to sleep here?” I smiled and said, “I’d love to dad.” He led me to the bed and picked me up and placed me in it, then followed. He snuggled close to me, placed his huge arm around me like a shield and covered both of us in a wool blanket. I pushed myself closer to his warm body and quickly fell asleep, wrapped in his powerful embrace. The next morning I awoke to find my dad’s huge cock working its way into my back. I reached back, grabbed it with my hand, and squeezed it, eliciting a moan from my father. He slowly woke up and smiled at me. “You better have something in mind if you plan on waking him up,” he said with laughter in his voice. I started to stroke it harder, but he stopped me. “As much as I would enjoy it, we have some work to do. We have to lift and eat before any fun.” I moaned my disapproval and he patted my head, “Don’t worry son, it’ll be worth it when you’re big like your dad. He swatted my bare ass and rushed me out of the bed, towards a day of hard lifting and muscle building. That’s how the last month of my summer went. We grew to become more than father and son and more than just friends. We had a bond that was indescribable. The love we felt for each was so amazing and by far the deepest connection I’ve ever felt. Each day, we lifted, ate, and enjoyed each other’s company. Sometimes we would walk in the woods, enjoying nature, other times we would sit on the couch with me wrapped in his arms. Some people might not have understood, but we loved each other as much as any couple could. Summer ended with me approaching 6’4” and 190 lbs, a far cry from my former 4’8” 80lbs self. I didn’t have a six pack or anything, but my stomach was mostly flat and hard as rock. I was growing a beard that needed me to shave every day if I didn’t want to look like my dad. My body hair was amazing also. It was jet black and poked out through my collar. Thick and curly, it spread over my chest, down my stomach and around my arms. Thankfully, it wasn’t too thick on my back, but a layer did cover it. I was getting bigger and stronger every week, thanks to my father. Plus, he trained me in ‘other’ subjects that I planned on using. Everything from sports to how best to top a guy was in my range of teaching. We went shopping for clothes and I let him pick out everything. I didn’t mind in the least letting my father decide what to wear, mainly because I knew he would dress me well. And I was right. We ended up going to a leather shop inside this bear bar. While I wouldn’t be allowed there at night, during the day was fine for our purposes. My dad bought me all kinds of leather gear, some suitable for school, some definitely for play. When I came out of the dressing room with a pair of leather chaps, a mesh jock and a leather harness on, I got woofs from not only my dad, but the store owner and his assistant. My dad walked up to me, still a lot bigger than me and grabbed me in a hug and a powerful kiss, “Damn, my son is a hot mother fucker.” “It’s all because of you dad, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you,” I said while hugging him back with all my strength. We finished trying on clothes and the store owner asked us to come in later to pose for some pictures. He said that we were the best looking daddy and son bears that have ever come into his shop. He offered our clothing free of charge if we posed for some pictures for his catalog. We agreed and set a time for later in the week. The photo shoot went well. But all that leather and bear muscle was a bit too much for him, and it eventually turned into an orgy with my dad fucking him as he sucked my cock. While it felt amazing, I kinda envied the shop owner because he was getting fucked by my dad’s huge ramrod. After fucking the shopkeeper to exhaustion, then waiting for him to wake up, he offered us a deal that we would get any new leather gear free as long as we posed in it for him and his catalog. We growled seductively at him and agreed. Finally, the day I was waiting for arrived, the first day of school. I decided to wear my dad’s favorite outfit: a sleeveless Underarmor shirt, a pair of black leather pants, combat boots and a pair of chrome shades. We were almost late because of how hot it made my dad. But we got their in one piece, albeit hard and horny. Not a single person recognized me at my school. Everyone thought I was a new student until my remaining friends heard me answer the roll call. Then I was bombarded with stuff like ‘What happened to you?’ and ‘You can’t be real!’ and the like. But I pulled out my wallet and showed them what happened over the last three months and, while still surprised, they started to believe and congratulate me. Rick wasn’t in any of my morning classes I found out, but I was almost positive we would be in the same gym class again. I wasn’t sure of what to expect. The waiting was torture as I glided effortlessly through the day. I was amazed at the ease maneuvering was now compared to when I was a smaller guy. Plus the looks I got from both guys and girls was thrilling. It was as if everyone knew that I was turning into an alpha male. But this alpha was different than guys like Rick. I was never going to flaunt my status. I didn’t forget my friends even when the jocks asked me to sit with them at lunch. It kinda saddened me that I wouldn’t be able to help them like I helped myself, but at least me hanging out with them would raise them a couple of ranks in the social ladder. Finally, the moment I had been waiting for all day had arrived. I raced to the locker room, stripped down to my jock strap, and waited. I watched as the guys filtered in and caught a glimpse of me. I could tell by how they were looking at me that some of them were indifferent, some of them were envious, and some were aroused. But I didn’t see Rick come in. Either he didn’t show up, he had changed so dramatically that I didn’t recognize him, or he didn’t have the same gym class as me. Only one way to be sure though. I put on my tank top and gym shorts and headed out to the gym floor. The coach was the same guy that rescued us from the laundry so long ago. I smiled because he didn’t recognize me either. He got to my name and when he heard my baritone respond, he looked up and his eyes bulged out. “Steven? Boy, you sure did shoot up and fill out over the summer. I expect to see you at football tryouts,” he said with an authoritative tone. I was personally surprised that he remembered me, but then it was always said that the coach cared about everyone, even if they didn’t play. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard Rick’s name and a shrill voice responded? I turned to look down the line to see the new Rick. He had shrunk a good bit since the last time I saw him. During the summer, he was 5’10’’ and almost 200 lbs, but now he was 5’5’’ and maybe 125. Coach looked at him with a raised eyebrow and said, “What happened to ya boy?” “I got sick during the summer. Was in bed for a month. Doctor said I should be getting better but he can’t figure out why I’m getting shorter.” I couldn’t help but smirk. The genetic modifications were working well, so well that nothing even showed up when he went to the doctor. And this was only the beginning. After roll was called, coach had us run around the indoor track five times. Last year, this would always tire me out after the third lap, but this time, my pace was increasing until I lapped half of the class. I smiled as I noticed Rick near the back of the pack, panting heavily. I ran backwards a little and said, “What’s wrong Rick, this is easy stuff.” He panted harder as he tried to respond, but I turned around and sprinted the final lap, coming to a stop next to the coach. He patted me on the shoulder and said, “Good job, quite a turn around from last year.” I smiled at him and said, “Thanks coach, my dad had a lot to with my turn around.” “I’m glad. It’s always a good thing to see a kid come into his own.” He squeezed my shoulder slightly, looking at me with approval in his eyes. “Now, you’re going to play football this year right? I’m sure we can use you as a running back.” I smiled and responded, “I’ll probably play as long as it doesn’t interfere with my lifting. I plan on getting a lot bigger coach. I’m going to follow in his footsteps.” “But isn’t your dad a scientist? He didn’t look anywhere near your size last time I saw him.” Again, coach shocked me that he remembered my parents. I smiled; this man truly did care about his students. My respect for him grew a ton. “I found out over the summer that he was just my adopted parents. My father is really Felix Fidelibus.” “You’re kidding me? You’re old Bus’s son?!” coach exclaimed. “Who?” “Oh man, if you’re really Bus’s son, I expect a lot from you.” “What are you talking about coach? “I’ll explain later, just meet me for football tryouts and I’ll fill ya in. Damn, Felix Fidelibus’s son right under my nose.” I wanted to continue the conversation, but coach shooed me back into line for class. As I was walking back, I noticed Rick about to collapse, just like my friends were last year. It made me feel good to see him suffering like that. The rest of gym went by fairly quick. All we did was a bit of calisthenics. Of course, I breezed through them while Rick struggled. It was a delicious reversal of fortune. I don’t think Rick even realized how much he lost until that day. Sadly, I didn’t have time to gloat as much because class ended fairly quickly and I had to get to my last class of the day. Thankfully though, that wouldn’t be the last time I saw Rick. That afternoon, football tryouts were to start at five. I didn’t have enough time to go home and come back, so I decided to hit the gym. I went to the locker room, changed back into my gym clothes and headed to the gym. But as I walked into the gym, I was greeted with the best sight I could’ve imagined outside of a muscle bear orgy. Rick was lying on the bench struggling with 65 lbs. The amount of effort that he was giving it was tremendous, but his new muscles refused to respond and lift the weight. He racked the bar and laid there, wondering what was wrong with him. I then strode in the main area. He sat up to look at me and I gave him an arrogant smile. I then walked causally to a nearby bench, making sure to keep his attention. I wanted to see if the last part of his adjustment had took hold, so I was doing my best to be teasing yet casual. I put two 45’s on each side and started to stretch. I kept glancing at the mirror to see if he was looking, and sure enough, he was staring at me. I’m sure the tight gym shorts and sleeveless shirt had a lot to do with it, but I was almost sure that he was gay now. But I continued acting like I didn’t notice. I slowly laid on the bench and did a flawless set of presses, the 225 pounds being my warm up weight since I’ve been working with my dad. I sat back up and glanced Rick’s way. I noticed his eyes were fixated on me, more specifically my building muscle. I smiled and said, “Hey Rick, why don’t you come help me out?” Rick snapped out of his trance and stumbled over to my bench. I could see the beginnings of a hard-on and decided to press the situation. “Put some 25’s on here,” I ordered. I smiled inside when I saw him snap to attention and obey instantly. “Yes, everything’s going perfectly,” I thought to myself. After he put the weight on the bar, with a little difficulty, he stood off to the side. “How are you going to spot me from way over there?” I questioned him. He muttered a quick “Sorry” and moved into position. I laid back down and did another set. I kept my eyes on him the whole time as he watched my chest work against the weight. After thirteen reps, I racked the weight and sat back up. Rick was mesmerized. I smiled coyly at him and he quickly turned away, blushing. I looked at the clock and saw I still had about 30 minutes before people would be coming in for football tryouts. So, to taunt Rick some more, I went through a quick chest workout, making Rick change out the weights. I constantly tossed in comments like, “I need something a little heavier” or “This is how a real man lifts.” I enjoyed the looks of desire I got from him, but he was still fighting his new tendencies. Finally, it was getting close to time for tryouts and I had to get ready for football. I ordered Rick to clean up and he obeyed without even thinking. I smiled to myself thinking of how submissive he had become and headed up to the field to warm up some more before the rest of the guys got there. Coach was already there even though it was twenty minutes before tryouts were to begin. He spotted me and called me over. I trotted up to him and he smiled, “God boy, you remind me so much of Bus. Always working hard to get better. I knew you would be here early but damn if you weren’t already pounding away in the weight room.” “How do you know my father?” I wondered aloud. “Follow me.” He led me back into the weight room, then to his office. Once in there, he closed the door and sat at his desk. I sat down opposite of him and he reached into a drawer and pulled out an old yearbook. He opened it to the teams sport section and turned it to me. Pointing at it, he said, “This was me, and this was ol’ Bus. We were both defensive linemen way back in the day. Your dad was like unstoppable back then. He was about a couple of inches taller but he was like 280lbs. He could run through almost anyone. I was about 220 back then and I was good, but your dad was the man. Our defense was crazy for the four years we played. You’re a lot like him. I can tell you’re a natural athlete and a hella hard worker. I’m really expecting a lot from ya. And just so you know, I’m going to push you a lot harder than these other kids. Don’t take it personally, but I doubt they could handle it, and knowing your old man, you’re used to it by now.” I smiled and reached out my hand, “You got a deal coach. Push me as hard as you want to. I’ll take all you got and come back for more.” He laughed heartily, took my hand in his, and shook it mightily. “Deal,” he said. “Now I want ten laps around the track. Move your ass!” I laughed as I got up and he slapped me on the ass and chased me out. I went to the track and started my laps only to find that Coach was right along side me. “Oh, by the way, if I beat you, that’s ten more laps,” he chuckled. “You’re on coach!” I responded with a huge grin on my face. I picked up my pace a little and found that Coach was keeping up. Then he would pick up his pace and force me to catch up. This kept going on until the last lap where we were sprinting. I beat him by a few inches and he patted me on the shoulder. “Good going son, I knew I was right about you.” I was slightly out of breath, but beaming at the praise he was giving me. “Now, we got about five minutes before we start and people should be coming. I want pushups ‘till then. Show these guys that you’re serious. I growled in approval and dropped to the ground and started pumping out pushups as people started coming in. I could tell Coach was proud of my endurance and determination. I felt like I was a show piece for him as he called a few of the guys that came around ‘lazy asses’ and that they should be working hard just like me. It made me feel good. After everyone arrived, Coach took them through a warm-up, telling me to catch my breath a bit. After the warm ups, Coach split up the field. He had the guys trying for quarterback, running backs and kickers to move to one area, defensive backs and ends to one area and linemen in a third. But I didn’t move. Coach came up to me, “What’s wrong Jr. Bus?” I was about to respond, but the name ‘Jr. Bus’ stunned me. “Junior Bus?” “Yeah, that’s you. At least you’ll be that in my eyes.” “Thanks Coach.” “Now, why aren’t you over there with the qbs?” “Oh that. Well Coach, I wanted to do both running back and the position my dad played.” “Shit man, you wanna run both sides? Fuck, I thought you were good, but if you can pull this off, damn!” “So can I try?” “Fuck yeah kid, let’s see how it goes. Do running back first, then after you finish, trot your ass on over to the linemen.” “Yes sir!” I shouted as I ran over to the offense tryouts. A couple of hours later, I had passed both tryouts with flying colors and was still full of energy when all was said and done. Coach pulled me to the side as I was heading to the locker room. “You did great out there today. I know I’m not going to be disappointed in you these next four years you’re playing. Good thing you came along. We lost a couple of people I was hoping would play this year. Oh well, doubt they would’ve been as good as you.” I blushed a bit as he continued, “I want you to talk to Bus and see if he will volunteer to be the defensive line coach. If I had knew he was still around, I would’ve asked myself. Also, tell that big lug that we need to hit up a bar sometime and catch up.” I nodded and continued back to the shower. After cleaning up real quick, I headed to wait for my dad. He arrived right on time and I hopped into his bear-sized truck. As we were driving away, I noticed a small figure in the shadows watching us drive away and realized it was Rick. I smiled to myself as the truck roared away from the school. My dad agreed to become a volunteer coach. He said that he owed it to Coach, plus he could really help me follow in his footsteps. In addition, it would save us time since we could just hit the weight room right after school. Every day after that day was amazing. I was pushed hard on the field and in the gym by Coach and dad. But the harder they pushed, the stronger I felt. I never tired of their training. I wanted it all bad. I knew that it all would help me grow stronger, and it did. I was constantly growing, swelling with new muscle almost every week. By the end of our undefeated season, I was a starter on both sides, and I was close to 250 lbs of hard bear muscle. My chest and shoulders were getting so wide I had to have special pads shipped in. I could curl over 200 lbs for reps. I was squatting 500 lbs with my dad. All his powerlifting training was doing great things for my body. I was becoming a titan in the gym; fifteen years old and out lifting everyone else. I got a little resentment from some of the guys, but it was all in jest. I was a hard worker and everyone saw it. Before the semi-finals of our season, I was in the weight room as usual. Dad was going to be at the game tonight, so I decided to stay at the school and hit the iron again. Again, I found Rick in there. I never saw him at school anymore, nor did I see him in the gym when anyone was around, but I knew he was here often, trying to lift. By now, while I had grown to 6’6’’, he had shrunk to 5’1’’ and weighted no more than 70lbs. I also heard that he was doing amazingly well in his classes now that he wasn’t playing sports, to the point where he was an honor roll student. He immediately froze when he heard my 250 lb bulk thunder into the room. Rick scrambled away from the bar that had no weight on it. I smirked as I knew he was having difficulty benching 45lbs when I was doing around 300. But instead of the bench, I went to the dumbbells. I picked up the hundreds and stood slightly akimbo. Smiling, I started cranking out the reps, glancing every now and again to catch Rick staring at me with his mouth wide open. “You seem to like what you see Rick,” I started. He blushed a bit more as I continued my monologue. “Boy, I don’t have anything to do for an hour while I wait for the game to start. I think I’ll go sit in the locker room for a while. Get out of these clothes for a bit and relax. I don’t think anyone’s in there to bother me either. Just me all by myself in my jock strap.” I racked the weights and then stretched, making sure to flex all my muscles before walking out of the weight room. I did as I said and went to the locker room, stripped down to my jock strap, laid on a bench, and closed my eyes. Around five minutes later, I heard the door open and a pair of soft feet walk in. I didn’t even bother opening my eyes as I knew who it was. He stopped near me and I could hear his heavy breathing. I locked my hands behind my head and flexed my biceps. He gasped aloud and I chuckled. “Enough playing,” I said to myself as I opened my eyes. Rick was standing there, still entranced with my physique. I stood to my full height and looked down on him. “What are you doing?” I growled at him. He stammered and backed up, obviously scared of the sudden turn of events. “Were you watching me? Of course you were. You’re just a little faggot that wants to see how a real man looks. Aren’t ya?” He was frozen in fear. I’m sure he was remembering a similar situation that happened months ago. I grabbed him by the shoulder and pinned him against the wall. “You used to be so big and bad. Now look at you. Just a little faggot. I bet you just want to suck my cock don’t you,” I said with as much malice as I could conjure. I slipped my jock strap under my balls and pushed my cock forward a bit. It had grown to about nine inches since the summer, but still a far cry from my dad’s weapon. I released him from my grip and said, “I’m not even going to force you to suck it. I know you can’t resist this huge cock.” I took my free hand and stroked it a little, causing blood to start rushing into it. Rick’s eyes widened as my beast woke up. He turned and ran a little towards the door, but stopped. He looked back, then out the door, and back at me again. He sighed and slowly walked back to me. “On your knees bitch!” I ordered when he approached me. He slowly dropped to his knees as my ramrod reached full mast. “Well bitch, what do you want?” “I want your cock,” he whispered. I took my steel-like meat and slapped him across the face with it. It left a red mark on his right cheek as I roared, “You will refer to me as sir when you speak to me!” He shuddered and crumpled a little before responding, “Yes sir.” I smiled and repeated my question, “I didn’t hear you. What do you want?” “I want to have your cock sir,” he muttered. “Speak up!” I yelled. “I want to have your cock sir!” he answered back. “You want this cock to fill your mouth, don’t you,” I said. “You want me to fuck your mouth and shoot my hot load down your throat, don’t you bitch?” “Yes sir, I need to feel your meat in my mouth and your seed in my belly,” he responded partly aroused, partly broken. That’s when I knew I had him where I wanted him. I got closer to him and slapped him a few more times with my cock and watched him try to get a taste of it as it flew by. Then I grabbed him by his ears and shoved the length of my cock into his mouth. He gagged a couple of times before I slid it out partially. “You better swallow this meat or it’ll choke you, bitch. Learn to suck my cock properly, or else!” I threatened as I pounded my stiff pole into his mouth. I felt his throat close up slightly, but my cock and thrusting was hundreds of times more powerful than his weak throat. Eventually, it opened up and allowed me to shove the entire length into his maw. My balls were flush against his chin and I stopped to allow him to become accustomed to the feeling. Then I started fucking his mouth. I used every bit of leverage I could get to slam my cock into his throat. His eyes were watering from the force of my thrusts, but I was relentless. I put every ounce of my anger and resentment into my brutal face fucking. I tugged on his ears and slammed my crotch into his face repeatedly as my cock worked its way into his throat. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of my pleasure, I tensed up and emptied a huge load down his throat. The first and second shots fired directly down his throat. The third, fourth and fifth shots filled his mouth completely. When I had stopped shooting, I pulled out my still thick cock and wiped it clean on his face as he swallowed my load. “You’re mine now bitch. I own you, and don’t you ever forget it,” I snarled at him. “Now get out of here, I have to get ready for football. I might let you have some more of this some other day. You’re a decent cocksucker.” I pulled up my jock and stuffed my cock back into the pouch as Rick trudged out of the locker room. A smile crept across my face as I thought about how humiliated he was feeling. Oh, the delicious irony, forced to suck the cock of the kid you teased not a year ago, and liking it. Oh yes, he liked it. Even through the humiliation, I could tell he was going to come back begging for some more. And he did. After that day, he began a ritual. Before every game, he would wait for me in the locker room. He would get on his knees and beg me to shove my meat into his mouth. I would humiliate him a bit, then fuck his throat mercilessly. He was completely submissive to me and served well as my personal slut. At home, life got even better as I grew and grew. My dad and I got to the point where we finally fucked each other. We ended up wrestling for dominance, and he won first. He rammed his thick cock into my ass and it was the best feeling I’ve ever experienced. He fucked me for an hour before shooting his creamy load up my ass. Then I returned the favor by wrestling him to the ground, pinning him and topping him with my equally huge cock. Then we showered and made love in his bed, us wrapped in each other’s arms, embracing, cuddling and kissing. So, that brings us to today. Now I’m 18 years old. I stand over seven feet tall and I’m 350 lbs of rock hard powerlifting bear muscle. I hold every weightlifting, rushing and sack record at the school. Coach is really sad to see me go, but I promised I would visit to help inspire the team. My dad and I are still lovers and friends, even more so than when I was young. We work out harder than ever, redefining our bodies constantly. He’s put on some extra muscle himself and we’re getting ready to shoot our own wrestling movie. We’ve got a waiting list already made after putting up our site and showing some amateur wrestling. We go out to the bear and leather bars and are the most popular guys there. It’s kinda weird being able to look down at my dad, but the man is still the most beautiful and powerful bear I’ve seen. We still get requests for bear magazines and catalogs. We even have a line of bear wear that is based on us for the powerlifting bear. I have to get most of my leather custom made, but all the leather crafters fight over the honor. Even now it makes me blush. Rick is still my slave. He turned into a straight A student and has vowed he would attend whatever school I went to. He still sucks cock better than anyone I know, even taking my 13 inch monster down his throat. He never even thinks about how all this has happened, and I never plan on telling him. My former family is still doing well. I visit them every so often. I find it amusing seeing as I can barely fit in the house and they almost break their necks looking up at me and their jaws hit the floor when they catch a glimpse of my muscles. I plan to repay their kindness when I go pro. I owe them a lot, more than they would ever know. Several colleges, the NBA, the NFL, the Wielder Company, and others are actively recruiting me. Everyone is saying that I’m the biggest muscle guy they’ve ever seen. And I feel that I’m only going to get bigger. This post has been promoted to an article

Close Encounter – Part 1: Eyes in the Dark Ben awoke to the feeling of someone invading his space. He opened his eyes to a dazzling display of lights streaming in through the windows. His eyes ached as they tried to get used to the bright flickering lights and violent contrasts between the lights and the dark spaces between them as they flung themselves all around his room like disco balls gone mad. Ben looked around quickly, still feeling the same intrusion but seeing nothing. The room was completely silent, eerily silent. The room was so silent Ben could hear the blood swishing in the veins and arteries around his ear. Suddenly one of the bright lights landed at the side of his bed and morphed into a humanoid shape. The figure was of average human height but its body was extremely thin and almost twiglike. Big, dark, black eyes stared back at him attached to an oversized head with grayish skin. It finally registered in Ben's mind that this was one of those aliens you see on those paranormal documentary shows, and this was real at least he thought it was. The eyes seemed to look deep within him. As soon as he made this contact he felt a small itch on his side. That itch came from a big gun like object poking into his thigh. As soon as Ben saw that the pain of the instrument rushed throughout his body. Ben felt an additional strange sensation inside of him. It was as if something was crawling inside of him and it started from the spot where he was stung and looked up the barrel of the gun to see a large multi-vial chamber. Three vials were emptying one white, and one greyish. The other was filling up with what looked like his blood. His head was grabbed lightly and directed back into the alien's eyes. The pain died down almost instantly to a small itch. Ben's body seemed to be locked in position. He couldn't move at all. Panic began to set in Ben's brain and the pain came rushing back with equal intensity. The alien tilted it's head diverting Ben's mind back to it. The pain dulled to an itch again. It was then that it made sense to Ben that it would hurt much less if he concentrated on the Alien. The Alien smiled. Was it reading his mind? It was a repetative dream that Ben would wake up to at least once a month. The dream was creepy and yet somewhat exciting at the same time. A close encounter with an alien! It was the focus of all of his life. Posters of aliens and spaceships lined his walls when he was younger. Ben had countless books, newspaper clippings in a scrapbook, and many documentaries on UFOs. Ben was virtually an alien geek. Now that Ben was much older at 18, his fascination for aliens had waned but never completely disappeared. The obsession was pushed to the side by life in general. The alien posters were gone and the walls were painted a semi dark blue-ish. The whole room was converted into a more adult like abode. The only remnants of his alien obsession lie on his computer. Ben got up and did his everyday morning routine. Ben would turn on his computer and gather his clothes as it booted up. Once booted, Ben was greeted to the sight of an alien head on his desktop. Ben opened up his file manager and looked up a folder named MM. Inside MM, was a library of pictures and more folders amongst them. Ben clicked on a subfolder called MMP. All the pictures were porn, specifically, muscle man porn. Ben had known and accepted that he was gay since he was fourteen. He came out to his parents at sixteen and since then he had collected a massive library of muscle, cock, and gay sex images and videos. But there was that other folder inside. Ben scrolled down to a folder named UAMM. Ben smiled thinking upon the names of the folders as he double clicked on the folder for "Unidntified Alien Muscle Men." The window opened up another set of erotic images. This time, those images were of various aliens all pumped up to massive bodybuilder proportions or bigger. Ben's cock bulged as the images of his obsession and sexual fantasy had merged in his mind. Ben began stroking his cock slowly as he clicked through the various images of the massive muscle men with alien heads. Each picture he clicked through made his cock harder and harder. Until he came upon his favorite picture. An alien that was truly a muscle god. Its muscles looking as large if not larger than some of the erotic massive muscle art he would collect. The biceps flexed and the huge muscled body bulged to proportions that seemed to swallow the tiny alien head. It was this image that he would cum to everytime. Ben would buck and writhe in his seat as the image induced an orgasm in him that consumed his whole body. Cum would spurt out in loads significantly bigger than normal from his cock. After a couple minutes the orgasmic seizure would lessen and Ben would clean up his mess. After that Ben made his way to the bathroom working out some of the post sex bliss that remained giving him a kind of drunk like state of mind. Ben reached the bathroom and flipped on the light. Looking in the mirror Ben noticed himself staring back. He wasn't a bad looking teen. His body was considered above average in height and muscle. Ben however just barely approved of himself since he had such an obsession for muscle. Ben flexed his arm and watched as a respectable 15 inch arm bulged a bit. The urge to pee quickly took his attention off the mirror and toward the toilet where he lifted the lid and relieved himself. After Ben was done, he went back to the bedroom noting that it was still dark outside. Ben got back into bed and looked at his clock which glared a bright red 2:30 back at him. Ben sighed and laid back putting the covers over his head ready to go back to sleep. Ben laid in his bed looking at the ceiling in the dark for a while. For a brief moment, Ben wondered if he would have that odd alien abduction dream again. Continuing to look at the ceiling his mind got bored and started noting little discomforts of his body. Ben's neck was uncomfortable just below his head so he lifted his head up and patted the pillow briefly to fluff it up. After laying his head down Ben noticed some twinges of light pain in his legs and moved them a bit to relieve that. To Ben this was unusual, maybe restless leg syndrome like advertised on some of those pill commercials. Ben briefly closed his eyes. In an instant Ben heard nothing, it was as if something had sucked all the sound out of the room. Ben knew this lack of sound distinctly. He was in the dream. And as if on cue of his thoughts the room lit up brilliantly with a bright whitish light. But something was different about this time. He could feel it as he noticed the light was different, dimmer. Ben looked to one of the windows and saw a massive shadow blocking out the light from it. This was very different. In this case, the massive shadow was trying to enter. The lower and upper panes of the window were suddenly crushed into the sill as a massive arm pushed them up and poked through into his room. Ben stared in awe as the massive arm was followed by the other equally as big and then a torso that had to slide through sideways, and even them the massive scraped both back and ches against the sides. That was followed by an incredulously thin waist leading to a crotch and bulge that would make a horse jealous. And finally two massive legs propelled their way through the window. The massive form landed on the floor with barely a sound at all the rumble died down along with the light. It was dark again in his room, but Ben could hear the sounds of a shifting form and footsteps getting closer to him. The footsteps stopped at the corner of the foot of his bed. "You are awake." Something said in Ben's mind. It was a deep masculine voice similar to that of the aliens that have visited him in his dreams but much deeper. Ben shivered with fear as he tried to speak but no sound came out. "Calm yourself. I mean you no harm. I will reveal myself to you if you agree to remain quiet." the voice in his head said. Ben could only shake his head yes. In the blink of an eye the lights came on in his room revealing the form that was speaking to him in his mind. Standing at the foot of his bed was a massive and definitely masculine creature. The head was that of the alien he had seen many many times in his dreams but this one had the typical large cranium and the big black eyes but the face was much more sharply defined and the jaw squared off to match the superheroes in the comic books. As massive as the head was, it paled in comparison to the massive muscular form that supported it. The alien's head was almost touching the ceiling which would put him almost at 8' tall. The neck was as big as Ben's thighs and the traps bulged up to what would be ear level on a human. Shoulders were twice and a half wider than an average door. The arms on this extraterrestrial were almost as wide as his body and the legs were twice that size. The abs were thick and hard cobblestones on an almost comically thin waist. And just blow that was a bulge that stood out at least a foot from the massive form as the mighty shaft was pushed out and bowed back in by what looked like a tight pair of boy shorts. Ben gasped as the lights came on and revealed the extraterrestrial in it's massively muscled glory. A once expressionless face soon gave way to a raised eyebrow and half frown as it acknowledged the sudden sound Ben had made. Ben quickly put his hand to his mouth as he realized what he had done. The alien nodded his head and the slight frown gave way to a smirk as he looked down to Ben's crotch. It was then that Ben realized that he had a raging erection from looking at the hulking space alien. "You like looking at me." The alien spoke simply in his head. Was there a hint of smart ass in that comment? Ben quickly covered up his hard cock in embarassment which caused the alien to let out a small chuckle. "There is no point in hiding your sexual arousal. I have already seen it and noticed it in your vital signs as I was entering." The alien mentally commented. Ben continued to stare at the massive form watching his massive chest heave as it breathed. The alien continued to smirk as his dark eyes stared intently at him. Then the alien smiled a little bigger and slowly crossed his mighty arms upon his chest followed by another raised eyebrow. Ben stared on in complete awe of the amazing extraterrestrial adonis in front of him. This was definitely not the same dream as he had before. Was this the same alien? "I can guess what you are asking yourself and chances are I would be right." The alien spoke in his head again. "You are wondering if I am the same one that had visited you before when you were younger. I will affirm that to you." "You're the same one?" Ben suddenly blurted out his question that it almost took the alien by surprise. "Yes I am." "But... but... you're.... HUGE!" "Yes, my appearance has changed." "Why?" "I was looking for a solution to a problem in my home planet's population. A disease has spread amongst my kind and I was looking to other types of life forms to study their DNA and make comparisons. I would use that DNA to try and fix the problem. Human DNA has had some interesting results." "Human DNA?" The alien opened his arms out and smiled. "I mixed human DNA with my own. I was altered into what you see me as now." "So human DNA made you huge?" Ben asked still aogog at the massive alien. "Specifically my DNA and your DNA have complimented each other. Although I am feeling some notable side effects." "Side effects?" "I experience changes in personality and mood which are more dynamic than I am used to and I grew genitalia and sex organs to which you humans use to create offspring." The alien then looked off to the side as it thought out loud. "Natural copulation versus cloning, an interesting theory." The room became unsettlingly quiet as the alien seemed lost in thought. "What is your name?" Ben blurted out the question nervously breaking the silence. The alien looked at Ben quizzically for a brief moment and then smiled again. "My name is Sirrelliac." Ben looked at Sirreliac and it was his turn to smile. "Can I call you Sir?" "Interesting." Sir projected into Ben. "What?" Ben replied out loud. "You are willing to call me 'Sir' melding my name with your English word recognizing a master from a subordinate which is much used in many variations including sexual." Sir stated simply. His words seemed near emotionless and clincal but the context was almost clear "Do you see me as your superior?" Sir asked looking thoughtfully at Ben. Ben looked back at the alien for a moment and then smiled proudly. "What made you think it was sexual?" Ben asked in reply with a flirting undertone. Sir's face suddenly dropped into befuddlement. To Ben the effect was comical and he began to giggle. Sir quickly shook his head and scowled at Ben. "Puny human! Am I your superior?" Sir mentally yelled at Ben as he reached out a massive muscled arm and grabbed him by the neck and lifted him of his bed high in the air. "Yes! Yes you are my superior Sir!" Ben squeaked in sudden horror as airway was nearly choked off. Ben grabbed at the alien's muscled arm noting how big hand hard it was. Sir's face was hard and angry but after a few brief seconds morphed back into befuddlement and then a flash of fear. Sir unceremoniously dropped Ben back to his bed and walked to a corner shaking his head. Sir's movements were animated and his footsteps banged on the floor as his heavy frame paced. Sir seemed to be thinking out loud as he arms flailed as if he were having an angry conversation with himself. Some of it seemed to slip out of his head and into Ben including "... why I was exiled," and "...they were right." "Who was right?" Ben asked Sir out loud. Sir's movements and pacing froze. "You said you were exiled. Why?" The room was silent for a good ten seconds before Sir replied. "I owe you an apology." Sir stated out loud with his deep voice resonating in the room. Sir did not look at Ben. "Accepted." Ben replied quickly knowing that Sir was obviously disturbed by what he had done to Ben. Ben now felt sorry for the space alien. He could only assume based on what he heard that Sir did something to cause his exile. Something which Sir may not have been in control of. Ben got up off the bed slowly approached Sir. "It is illogical to accept my apology so soon after what I did to you." Sir replied again out loud still not looking back at Ben. "Humans like me are sometimes illogical. It's how we adapt in some cases." Ben said as he placed a hand on Sir. Sir twitched at sudden contact. Ben noticed Sir's forearm and bicep explode in size as his arm flexed. Ben jumped back as Sir did. Sir stared at Ben intensely. "I'm sorry, sir." Ben replied calmly. "You touched me. You are not afraid of me?" Sir asked almost meekly which usually isn't possible from such an intimidating figure. But Ben was not shaken now. "No. Because I think I understand." Ben added. "You experimented on yourself and you are experiencing side effects. Your sudden emotional responses are something you said you were dealing with. You also said you were exiled." Sir looked down at the floor when he heard that statement reflected back at him. "Your friends don't like that you experimented on yourself. You're now a freak to them." Ben paused and then added, "It's not hard to deduce." Now it was Sir's turn to be speechless for a brief moment. "You are somewhat correct." Sir admitted after a long pause. Ben walked over to Sir. "Somewhat correct? How so?" "I did the experiments because I was hearing intelligence that there would be an invasion of our home. I felt that our planet needed protection. So I did the experiment on myself." Sir looked down at the floor. "When the invasion happened, I was ready for it. Even though I was only half as big as I am now. The invaders came, and I defended the planet against the whole armada." "Wow! You were like a hero." Ben said with a squee. "Maybe to you, but the elders didn't see it that way. They saw me as a threat. I was too big and powerful for them. They wanted to control me, but I resisted. They sent me away in exile. My only solace was coming here since I had been here before." Sir disclosed with a quiet sadness. "But, how do you feel?" Ben placed a hand up on Sir's mighty shoulder again. "That question is too broad." Sir replied. "Okay, considering the experiment in my opinion seemed to be a great success, do you feel any different, better or worse?" Ben asked more specifically. "They don't know what it's like to be like I am. There are so many things that are new to me just because I can see them differently. Athough I was afraid when I saw what I had done to the invading armada, I was proud of the fact that I had defended a planet from being conquered or worse." Sir brought his hands up and squeezed them into fists, his arms flexing into huge masses of power. Ben saw Sir like he saw some of the superheroes in comic books in that brief moment. "I feel good, I feel like I am better than I was before, like I have evolved into the next generation of my kind."

Journal of a Scientist - Part 2 by NerdJock As Clint carried me into the shower his dick was flopping around his knees. It looked much bigger this time. I'll have to remember to check the nanites program when I get back to my console. Anyway, I reached down and grabbed his massive dong and felt its weight. It was very hot and I felt a surge of energy as I touched it. It started to grow. It was about 25" long and 17" around now. I clamped my finger down on his cock as hard as I could. Exerting at least 1100 lbs/sq.in of pressure. His cock grow hard. "Doc. That feels great. Keep doing it." Clint had a contented look on his face. I couldn't believe it. I was putting enough pressure to crush rocks and wanted me to keep going. "What ever you say Clint." I issued a mental command to the nanites in me and waited for the results. We reached the shower, Clint was rock hard and I wasn't making a dent in his massive cock. I started stroking while maintaining maximum pressure. He moaned with pleasure as I stroked his dong. I slowly increased pressure as the bots increased my cellular density. I was now putting 1700 pounds per square inch of pressure on his cock and he groaned loudly. He started breathing heavily and his cock began to throb wildly. I had a hard time controlling his hot rod. At it's current size it could easily lift 2500 pounds and my arms would sooner lift me then control his throbbing cock. "I'm going to shoot!" I had a sudden thought. I stopped stroking Clint and planted my feet firmly on the floor. I started to pick Clint up by his cock. With a deep roar he shoot a huge load as I raised his massive frame above my head. His load hit the wall with a loud splat the reverberated through the wall. So I carried Clint over and put him down for a closer look. The stainless steel wall of the shower had a dent in it about 3 inches deep and over 6 inches wide. "Holy shit! What a load. Look at that wall. This is GREAT! The strength, the power. I LOVE IT!" "Clint, I'm glad you are enjoying this and buddy you haven't seen anything yet. That wall is almost 8" thick and is made of solid steel. But right now, I want your cock up my ass." His cock had never gotten soft after his last ejaculation. He reached over and picked me up me and positioned my hot hole over his massive member. He slowly lowered my down his cock. The huge pain soon turned into pure pleasure. I felt his head slide past my prostate and I almost blew my load all over his chest. When I finally hit bottom I could feel his huge harry nuts against my ass. I sat there for a while enjoying the felling of having his dick deeply embedded up my ass. Then Clint reaches around my chest with one arm and starts running my body up and down his massive dong. The feeling was incredible. I never wanted this to end. I started to flex my insides and glutes to enhance his pleasure. I had to try to give him what he was giving me. But, he just kept lifting me up and down his 25" cock. After about 20 minutes of this he stopped and looked down at me. "Doc, I want to try some thing." Then he smiled at me and walked out of the shower with my body being supported only by his cock up my ass. "How thick did you say this wall was again?" "The shower? 8 inches. Why?" The only answer I got was another smile. He reached under my legs, around his cock and lifted me off his still rock hard cock with one arm. Then carried me back into the shower and put me down in front of the wall between the rest of the lab and the shower. "Stay here," was all he said and walked out. Next thing I heard was a loud grown coming from the wall. A small round area started to dent outwards from the wall about 3 and a half feet from the bottom of the floor and continued to grow bigger. I finally had an idea of what Clint had in mind as I watched the area get longer and wider. Finally the wall started to crack. The cracking got worse as the dent got even bigger. It was about 8" around by now and the tip was almost 12" away from the wall. Finally I could see the color of flesh emerging from the wall. Clint was pushing his muscle prick through 8" of solid stainless steel. His cock finally broke through and I was completely amazed. He pushed his full length into the wall and I had about 17" of solid dick to work with. I grabbed his cock as hard as I could and he started pumping. What a glory hole. Punched right through a steel wall by Clint's muscle dick. After about 10 minutes he finally came again. This time his load impacted on my chest. If I hadn't already been enhanced it could have gone right through me. As it was it felt like I was just punched, hard. Clint came back into the shower room after removing his cock from the hole in the wall. "I'd always wanted to have sex through a glory hole! Just never thought about making a hole with my rod." We both started laughing. After the sex in the shower we finally decided that we should get back to work. We both took a shower for real this time and went back into the lab. "Okay, doc. What can we do about size?" "Well, that is phase two of the procedure. The nanobots need to be programmed and then all we have to due is run it." "How long will it take to program?" "About 30 seconds. All you have to do is stand on the platform and let me start the sequence." After Clint moved onto the platform I asked, "Ready?" He nodded. "Okay, one second." I started to sequence and waited for my Mac to beep, which it did after about 40 seconds. "All done. We can start Phase two when ever you are ready." •

Journal of a Scientist - Part 1 by NerdJock I have just completed my research into Nanotechnology and Advanced Muscle Growth and I'd like to share the results with you. First of all, let me introduce myself. I am Dr. Mike Hays, and I hold a Ph.D in Molecular Biology, Organic Chemistry, Computer and Mechanical Engineering. I'm 27 years old and am now 6'2" tall and about 350lbs of solid muscle and I'm gay. I started this project because I wanted to get BIGGER and STRONGER. Yesterday I was 6'0" and about 240 lbs. Where shall I begin. I researching to find a way to use nanobots to reorganize and strengthen muscle tissue while simultaneously converting the body's fat reserves into new muscle tissue. I made my breakthrough yesterday. My new body is the result. I was even able to key the nanobots instructions to the brain's neurons, so I can control them with a mere thought. As you could probably tell I have already tested this on myself, but now I need another test subject to verify the results before I can publish them. So, I decided to put up an announcement in a few of the local gyms: Wanted: Research subject to test new muscle growth project in the Seattle area. If interested please call 555-2441 and ask for Dr. Hays. After about a week I received a call from a guy named Clint. He agreed to meet me at my lab. When he walked in, my heart must have skipped a beat. I was staring at one of the biggest men on the face of the planet. He was wearing a lose fitting sleeve less shirt and lose sweats. His chest looked to be about two feet wide, and his arms were truly massive, his upper arms looked bigger then most men's upper legs and his forearms we covered in dark hair and looked to be about 19" around if not more. Here was the supreme model of manhood standing in my lab. My cock started to rise. As I struggled to regain self control, he walked up to were I was sitting down. I eventually stood up and took his offered his hand. His grip was powerful to say the least, he could have probably crushed every bone in my hand. " Doctor Hays? I'm Clint Morris. I'm here for the muscle enhancements." "Yes, Mr. Morris. It is a pleasure to meet you. Are you sure the enhancements are necessary, you look pretty big now?" "I'm sure, Doctor. I want to get huge, not just big, HUGE." He looked totally sincere, but I needed to check his resolve. "Very well, there are a few risks to warn you about. This is product has never been tested before and could be quite dangerous." "That's okay, doc. I do what ever it takes to get bigger. I've taken Steroids, HGH and other things to make me grow. I'll do anything, regardless of the risks." This settled my doubts. "We can proceed then. It is a very simple process. All you have to do I allow me to inject you with some nanites and give them time to familiarize themselves into your cellular structure. Then we can start the growth program." "Okay, Doc. Whatever you say." "You'll then have to learn how to communicate with the nanites. That will take some time." "What do you mean by 'communicate'?" "Well, the nanites are essentially molecular sized robots that can enter cells and modify them. They have been programmed with the ability to interpret simple commands from your brain and respond to them." "Okay. Your going to teach me how to talk to them?", he said with a puzzled look on his face. "Yes. Shall we begin?" "Your show Doc. What ever you say." I motioned him over to the sensor pad to get his measurements. "Now Clint, I'm going to take some mass and size readings with the computer so we can have a record of where we started from. okay?" He nodded. "Okay, please take off your clothes till you get down to your Jock." He complied and I was stunned. I could feel my cock hardening as here removed his shirt revealing a very well muscled and furry chest. Next his sweats pants came off next. His legs were as even more amazing then I thought and his jock was straining with the weight of his basket. I licked my lips out of lust before I realized what I was doing. Fortunately for me, he didn't notice. "When ever your ready Doc." He said. "Okay. Just stand there for about 10 seconds." I clicked on the run command and the machine started to buzz. One my screen scrolled his massive measurements: Weight - 320 lbs, Height 6'8", Chest - 58", Arms - 26", Forearms - 19", Thighs - 39", Calves - 23", Waist - 35", body fat - 2.1%. He didn't know this but I got a scan of his dick too. It measured 14" flaccid. Amazing. I whistled as the results came up. I looked at Clint and he had this broad smile on his face. "That's very impressive. You're huge. What is you max bench?" He smiled again and said, "650 lbs. I regularly do 3 sets of 20 at 500 though." I about fell out of my chair. I couldn't believe that we was that strong and we hadn't even begin the experiment yet. "Okay. Well...Lets give you that injection." I pulled out a new hypospray. He looked at the hypospray. "What is that thing? Where is the needle?" "Oh, I don't use them. This uses a pressurized chamber to push the contents directly into the blood stream. We don't have to break the skin anymore. These are still experimental too, but I managed to get a few from a friend at Johns Hopkins." I walked over to him and gave him the injection. He rubbed his arm where the serum was forced into his body. "That will be sore for a couple of minutes." After about a half an hour of idle chit chat, my Mac beeped that it was ready. The nanites were ready. "Okay, the bots are ready. I've already given them a starting program all you have to do is say the word." "Lets do it!" He said with a big smile and a lot of enthusiam. I walked back over to the console and clicked begin. The diagram showed the nanites reworking his muscle tissue. "This should take about 10 minutes. Then you can see the results." He looked at his muscles for a change but didn't see anything. After 10 minutes had passed still nothing happened. "Doc, it's not working. What's wrong?" I checked my screen the bots had finished the first phase of the program. "Nothing is wrong. It worked fine. You just haven't noticed yet. Why don't you go over to that weight set in the corner of the lab and give it a shot." "Okay, but I don't feel any different." He got under the bar that was already set at 1100 lbs. Although the weights looked like 45s. It should look exactly them same as his regular bench press weight only the plates and bar and 100lbs instead of 45. He got under it and pressed up the bar up and lowered it down to his chest. He pressed it up easily and continued for 10 reps before putting the weight on the bench again. He sighed and said "See, I'm still the same. Nothing has changed. I smiled and said "Why don't you keep going and I'll show you something." He sighed again and got back under the bar. He grabbed the bar and continued pressing. After 20 reps he was going to put the bar back. "No. Keep going. Trust me, you can." I said. He kept going. Soon he came to 40 reps and then 60 reps. He started to smile and kept going. After 100 reps Clint still hadn't broken a sweat and was still going. It seemed to get even easier for him. He increased speed. He didn't know this yet, but he could even do this one handed. After 500 impossible reps he stopped. Clint wasn't even breathing hard. As I walked over to him he looked at me in amazement. "How long could I keep doing that?" "Don't worry about that yet. Why don't you try that one handed?" I sad with a smile. He gave me the brightest smile possible and leaned back down and pressed the bar with one arm. He stopped after 250 reps and changed arms for another 250. He sat back up and had the biggest smile on his face. "Now to answer your question. You could do that all day long and never break a sweat. This weight is actually very light for you. Do you know how much you were pressing?" "Yup, 500 pounds right?" "Why don't you look at those weights again." I smiled broadly. "Oh my god. These weights are 100 lbs a piece. That means I was doing 1045 lbs with one arm. SHIT! That's incredible" "Actually, you did 1100 with one arm. The bar is weighs 100lbs too. Not 45." "I must be the strongest man alive. I can't believe this. But Doc, What about size? I'm still the same size." "That is the next phase of the program. Right now for every inch of muscle you can move 50 pounds. That includes curls and bench presses. Overhead presses and anything else you can think of it makes no difference. Your arms can repeatedly move 2600 pounds withou stopping. The same rule applies to all your muscles. Your pecs, back, legs, forearms, you name it." "You said every muscle?" "Yes, every muscle." Becoming bold, He walked over to me and easily lifted me off the ground with one arm and kissed me. He forced his tongue into my mouth and wrestled with my own. As he held me up I heard a loud rip. I couldn't move to look around and I didn't want to. I was in ecstasy. Then he started to lower me only I was stopped by a steal rod between my legs. I looked down to realize that is was his cock and I was straddling it. It must be 17" long. I could believe it. Clint started flexing his massive dong with me on it. I was going up and down without stopping. My dick was becoming rock hard and started breaking through my pants. The shear power of this was amazing. I couldn't believe that I was ridding the huge man's hard prick! My own cock had now ripped through my jeans and was rock hard. I started stroking it in time with Clint's dick lifts. Clint notice this and increased the speed of his lifting. After about 300 dick lifts I finally came. I shot my huge creamy load all over Clint's think harry chest. Yet he kept going. I started to rub my body back and forth along his long prick while keeping my thighs flexed to get him even more excited. I was rubbing my load into his chest hair and sucked on his nipples while moving my body back and forth on his muscle cock. Not long after I started sucking his pecs and licking my own cum off of him, his huge manhood started throbbing and Clint's breathing increased in speed. He finally came in a massive orgasm. His thick juice shot clear across the lab, almost 300 feet from where we were standing. After that he finally took me off his rod and put me down. "Maybe we should go take a shower and get cleaned up?", I said. He just looked down at me and smiled. Then he grabbed me and lifted me up with his massive arm and carried me back to the bathroom area of the lab. I can see this is going to be an interesting relationship. Especially when we get to phase three. I smiled all the way to the shower.