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Part 1: http://muscle-growth...ars-cub-part-1/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth...ars-cub-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth...ars-cub-part-3/ Part 4: http://muscle-growth...ars-cub-part-4/ Part 5: http://muscle-growth...ars-cub-part-5/ Part 6: http://muscle-growth...ars-cub-part-6/ Part 7: http://muscle-growth...ars-cub-part-7/ Part 8: http://muscle-growth...ars-cub-part-8/ Part 9: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3050-the-bears-cub-part-9/ Part 10: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3231-the-bears-cub-part-10/ My Bear’s Cub Part 11 Donut moved his big body in his bed. The night still ruled over the sky as the little window of his room let in a taste of moonlight. Donut’s big pale muscled body was spread out and bulging. Though his body was sweaty from the warmth of the night mixed with his large body, it only stimulated him as his endorphins permeated the air and his semi hard leviathan cock bounced beneath the skimpy sheet that was only half over his body. It was only when the slobbering Donut adjusted that he realized the soft creature he was holding was getting crushed by his weight in his sleep. Donut’s first night with the Cub had suddenly made him more protective. Some part of him felt compelled to protect his frat leader’s smallest and most vulnerable member. The little guy felt so defenseless in his maximized arms. That’s why, when he felt his weight press into what he was hugging, he instantly moved over and raised the light creature over him. Only when Donut forced himself out of sleep and raised the object high over his head did he see that the object was a pale white. The pillow he held wasn’t the tiny creature from before. Quickly, Donut threw his blanket off and sat up in bad abruptly. Where was Cub? When he stopped scratching his red head in thought and panic, he heard a clinking sound., a very familiar clink and clank that could have only been one sound. Donut stood up, his extremely tight jockstrap lifting his weighty genitals. With a ball scratch and a reach for his room door, Donut tiptoed down the hall, following the sound down the stairs of the Cave till he found himself going into the lower floor. It was dark but there was the sound again. A collision of metal on metal was coming from inside the only illuminated room. The glass window to the door shined brightly in the dim hall way. Donut walked as quietly as an over 7 ½ foot giant could and leaned into the door to see what were the contents. Donut’s masculine jaw dropped. It was Cub. --- I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I couldn’t figure what the hell was happening to the frat but, whatever the case, my body was hungry for something. I’d woken up from Donut’s big comforting body and had somehow pulled myself from him. Part of me wanted to wrap my arms around his big, wide body so he could fill me with his loving heat. Still, a much larger part of me was taking the wheel. I’d jogged down the stairs and found the refrigerator. It was a blur as to how much I actually ate but, by the end, I realized that I’d eaten quite a bit of the fridge’s contents. If it were a normal fridge of a normal college frat, it would have been nearly barren the way I ate. It was a large gap after that where I’d wiped my face and then the hunger had come through me. I tried to eat my stomach began to grumble at me. I wasn’t hungry for food. I don’t know when I came to be so vulnerable but I found myself heading down the stairs, heading for Bear in the hopes his behemoth form could tell me what I needed. Thing is, I was never good at seeing in the dark. I found my way into the wrong room. That was hours ago. With my fists tightened on the bar, my once thin arms pumped hard as I tried to lift a 45 pounder on each side. I didn’t even hear Donut come in as a bead of sweat dropped down the side of my face and landed on the bench. My chest puffed forward as I used all my strength to lift it. My body was tense but something deep down was awakening. This was feeding the hunger I had. Donut’s mouth was agape as he watched me lift the weight. “It’s not much but I’ve never been prouder of the cub” he said as he walked over. Donut could see that my body had gone through a very small, yet noticeable metamorphosis. If you were Donut’s size and you were gauging the size of someone so small with an untrained eye, it would have been almost unnoticed. Donut wasn’t fooled though. He could see that the muscles that were there weren’t super human but they were definitely harder looking. An angry vein went down one of my arms as I began to perform another rep with as much force as possible. Donut had watched me lift the weight for 20 reps without stopping before I racked the weight and lay on the bench exhausted. Donut leaned over me and pat my unguarded stomach. “I’m so proud of you, Cub! Is this the first time you’ve done that weight?” he asked. I only had the energy to nod my head as I lay on the sweaty bench in my black underwear alone. Every muscle felt tired and exhausted but I could feel my energy coming back and my muscles slowly regaining their hunger for more work. Was muscle recovery supposed to be this fast? I couldn’t honestly tell how bad I smelled but I must have been a Bath and Body Works the way Donut looked at me with a hunger. On his burly face, past his red beard, I could see something like a beast in him. I imagined food that smelt amazing was looked at just like this. I couldn’t figure out why but the one muscle I hadn’t worked was fighting a war with my suddenly tighter briefs. When I sat myself up, I really began to feel the waistband pull into my sides as my waist bent in them. That was the first time I yanked on them and now, I could see something on my stomach. It wasn’t a 6 pack exactly. It was more like the ghostly image of a faint six pack on my belly that was hidden behind a thin layer of fat. “Where did that come from?” I asked as I continued to pull on my tight underwear. It was then that Donut threw a bag in the corner at me. I caught it clumsily and looked inside before looking at him surprised. “We were going to try and get you into lifting after your first class tomorrow but I guess you caught the bug early, Cub” Donut said, his eyes never wavering from my body. My cock was pretty hard but I’d gotten so comfortable with all the other pups that it didn’t matter what I was wearing. Plus, the way they looked at me sometimes, like how Donut did, it was almost as if I wasn’t wearing any clothes at all anyway. Of course, the expression was mutual though for other reasons. Donut was tenting his jock like a champ, his big and hefty balls spilling out of both ends as his cock stretched it like a rubberband. I was defenseless as Donut leaned forward, grabbed my biceps with large hands and leaned into my neck. Instantly, I felt my cock bounce in the underwear angrily again as Donut had at it, licking the side of my neck before dragging his big tongue downward and, with precision, licked my right pectoral down to the nipple. I moaned and wrapped by arms around Donut’s head. My nipples hadn’t ever been this sensitive before. It was like Donut was hotwiring my cock to start. I was close to jazzing all over my briefs before Donut stopped his tongue and I tightened my grip as though I was clinging to him and the feeling in that moment. I could feel Donut’s curved grin as he lifted his head up my chest and I felt his bearded face on my cheek as he pressed his lips to my ear. “You wanna get get big, Cub? Get into your new clothes.” I was so absorbed I didn’t move a muscle until he concluded with his sentence. “Now.” I was up and throwing off my briefs to get into my new stuff before my cock could hit my stomach again. --- Bear was sound asleep, a mountain on a pitiable mattress that was struggling to handle his new size and length as the springs creaked with every breath and his big feet hung over the edge. His muscles convulsed and twitched occasionally like that of a large creature. He was testosterone and masculinity incarnate the way he slept on his back, his muscular body reaching up off the bed, his girth clear to all who stood next to it. Bear was snoring like his namesake, his big, thick hands scratching his naked body occasionally. The pups always tried to guess what he was thinking when he slept but, with as much information as they gave him in the daytime, he was a big, erotic mystery. No one could have expected him to open his eyes almost abruptly as he heard someone open his room door. Bear wasn’t expecting any pups to come at this time of night. He could hear almost inaudible footsteps against his room’s rugged floor. His new, more powerful senses responded so well to him that it was as if he’d always been an animal at heart. His head was turned away from the person who’d entered but he didn’t have to look. With a devilish grin, Bear turned and grabbed the target around the waist with his big arm and yanked them onto his big body. “Hey, Cub” he said as he looked down over his big chest to see his captive. Bear gasped as he saw what he’d caught. It was definitely his baby cub straddling his thick body as best he could but he wasn’t prepared for what he was wearing. I’d been wearing a little pair of jogging shorts that made it half way down my knees as my legs were spread over Bear’s body. Bear could instantly see that something was different on me. “You been working out, Baby Cub?” he said down over his chest at me. I blushed a little as his eyes were radiant enough that they seemed to look through me in the little light there was. “A little bit, Papa Bear” I said before turning another shade redder. Bear’s grin got bigger. “Looks like the pups taught you how to talk to me, little guy” he said as he grabbed me with the hands of a giant and raised me over him before he pressed me higher onto his chest. I could feel my cock trapped by the gap between his two titanic pectorals. “Come ‘ere, Cub. You’re sleeping with Papa Bear tonight” he said as he wrapped his big arms around me and I was surrounded in a mattress of power, muscle, and warmth. I felt like I was being wrapped in a blanket just out of the dryer. Bear had me fixed onto his body before he got more comfortable and began to snore. I’d never slept so soundly in my life. To Be Continued……. ((Sorry for the delay ))

Hi guys, While wondering the internet, I came across an FMG story called, Lisa Simpson and the Supplement of Doom, by an author using the handle Gertos. Link here. It is a Simpsons fan fic. I’m not a huge Simpsons fan, but I loved the way he described the physical and personality changes the main character went through. Plus, he touched on one of my favorite themes in an MG story. I felt compelled to give it a sex change. What follows is a very heavy re-write of that story. All Simpsons references have been removed. The setting of the story was moved from Springfield to Harvard University. And of course, the perspective of the main character had to be changed from female to male, a complicated task to be sure if I wanted to retain all the elements from the original story that attracted me to it. I have messaged the original author and asked his permission to post this. He has not gotten back to me. If, however, he does and he requests me to remove the story, it will be removed. So fair warning, this may be a limited engagement. It will be presented in 2 parts. So, without and further babbling from me, here is part one of Harvard Man. “Yeah, you wouldn’t believe how massive he is. He’s on the football team, a lineman or something. I don’t know how he could be 18. I’d have thought it’d be impossible for him to be 18 and that freaking huge! And he just loves to hang out in wife beaters. I don’t know where they found wife beaters to fit him—correction, they didn’t find any that fit him. Those things are so tight on him, you can clearly see every gigantic muscle beneath! His biceps are like footballs—and I’m talking NFL footballs—and that’s when he’s not flexing them. When he is they’re bowling balls! His shoulders are at least the size of basketballs and you can see every muscle fiber in them. His back is made of gigantic plates of muscle so wide, he has to slant his body a little to fit through the door. These dorm rooms are too small for two guys when one of them is a freaking mountain! I swear I have to hug the walls every time I pass him,” said Luke. “I bumped into him once; it was like hitting a freaking rock wall!” “He can’t be that big, man. You’re exaggerating,” said Will. “You think so? Well, after we’re done here, you should come up and meet him. But be prepared to shout. His ears are so high up, he has trouble hearing me when I speak in a conversational tone,” said Luke. Will just laughed. “You crack me up, man.” The two young men were sitting in the waiting room of the Harvard Medical Center. It was Luke’s first week at the Ivey League School, and he’d started things off by passing out right in the middle of the Yard. Unfortunately, this was nothing new. He’d had fainting spells all through his last year of high school. He thought it was just because of stress, since he’d been working himself crazy making sure he got a scholarship. When he’d finally gotten a full scholarship—he remembered opening the smooth, egg-white paper of the Harvard envelope with world-ending dread—he’d hoped that the fainting spells would stop. But, through the summer, his eighteenth birthday had come and gone, but the fainting spells stayed with him. Fortunately, when it had happened this time his new friend, Will, had been with him. And when Luke had recovered, Will had marched him straight to the Medical Center where the doctor had had a look at him. And now they were waiting for the results. The Doctor returned to the waiting room, chart in hand. “Is it anything serious?” Luke blurted. He didn’t want anything to ruin his first year at Harvard. The Doctor chortled harmlessly and said, “Oh, no, nothing we can’t fix. Simple lack of proper nutrition. It’s pretty common around here, actually, with the schedules the student’s keep.” “Nutrition?” thought Luke. He’d never thought of himself as unhealthy. Vegetarianism at a young age had helped him keep a relatively trim figure as he’d grown up. He wasn’t the most fit guy in the world—a natural byproduct of his intellectual lifestyle, he thought with pride—but he wasn’t overweight. “All you need to do, like most of the kids around here, is eat right and exercise. You’re a little underweight, but since eating right is not going to happen, I suggest you take a full regimen of vitamins,” continued the Doctor, “and get as much sleep as you can. I know asking for 8 hours is a pipe dream, but do what you can.” Luke sighed with relief. “I’d also recommend some gym time. You have almost no muscle tone. Don’t exert yourself; just try and get a little physical exercise in. Might even be good for your brain!” The Doctor chuckled and showed them to the door. “You gonna be ok, Bro?” said Will, as they stepped onto the street. “I’ve got a lecture in 10 minutes.” “Yeah, sure, I’m fine. Thanks a lot,” said Luke. “Call me later. We’ll grab a bite,” said Will, backing away and making the phone gesture with his hand to his ear. “Sure,” said Luke as he watched his friend turn and make a dash for his lecture. Fortunately, Luke was done with classes for the day and since Harvard Square had no shortage of Health Food stores, he went out and bought himself an alphabet of vitamins. Every vitamin they had, he bought, A, B, C, D, E, all of them and a multi to boot. When he got back to his dorm room, he got hit with a surprise. His roommate was gone. Not just out, but gone. All his stuff had been removed. Luke was looking at a bare mattress, bare walls and an empty desk and closet. He dropped his shopping bag and back pack on the floor and stared for a full minute at the emptiness. What the hell had happened? His befuddlement was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Jimmy, the RA, scraggly hair, scraggly beard and wrinkled clothes; as usual he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. “Hey, ah, Luke, right?” said Jimmy. “Yeah,” said Luke, nodding rapidly. “Yeah, your roommate’s gone,” said Jimmy, as though it were a struggle for him to keep his mind on this particular subject. “I sort of noticed that,” said Luke. How do you miss the absence of a mountain? “They kicked him out. Performance enhancing drugs or something.” “Seriously?” “Yeah,” said Jimmy. “They wouldn’t even let him back up here to pack his stuff. I had to do it. They gave me 10 minutes. Sorry about the mess.” He turned to go, then stopped, and said, “Hey, let me know if I packed any of your shit by mistake. No offense, but I figured all the rubbers were his.” “Ah… yeah…,” said Luke, unable to think of anything to say to that. And then Jimmy left, leaving him in HIS OWN PRIVATE DORM ROOM! YEAH! He took a moment to survey his suddenly mountain-free abode. It was obvious Jimmy had been in a hurry. A scrap of paper here, a sock there, he was going to have to fix things up a bit. He briefly wondered if he’d miss his roommate. He didn’t think so. They hadn’t had many conversations. After all, how do you relate to a guy who is more than a foot taller than you and three times your body weight in solid, bugling muscle? It was like he was a different species. He began to check the place out in more detail. He found the desk full of pens, paper and an ink cartridge for a printer he did not own. And in the bottom drawer, the Mountain’s high school yearbook. He’d have to give this to Jimmy to mail to him. Under the bed, he found… ew… dirty underwear wrapped in a ridiculously large pair of gym shorts. Those were going into the trash. And pinched between his thumb and forefinger, so he came in contact with as little of the cloth as possible, that’s exactly where they went. And finally, in the closet, he found a set of adjustable dumbbells. He was pretty sure Jimmy had left them there on purpose, because they looked freaking heavy. Who would want to mess with them? Luke sure didn’t. And at the back of the top shelf, Luke thought he could make something out. It was hard for him to see, not being the tallest guy in the world, so he pulled over a chair and hopped on it. Sure enough he retrieved a small cardboard box. And to his delight, he discovered it was filled with lots of vitamins! He started going through the box. There were many of the ones he had just bought. Damn! If only he’d come back to his dorm room first he might have saved a lot of money! There was also Zinc, Magnesium, Vitamin Y, a tub of protein powder, something called BCAA, and something else called Creatine Monohydrate. The Zinc and Magnesium, he could use, and Vitamin Y? The store hadn’t had any Vitamin Y, and he needed all the vitamins he could get; so that was good. A quick internet search told Luke the other stuff was all bodybuilding supplements for which he had no use. Luke quickly added the useful bottles to his vitamin alphabet, and suddenly realized how hungry he was. Damn, he’d better eat. No more passing out for him. A lot of these vitamins had to be taken with food; so, Luke gathered one of each, stuffed them into his pockets, and called Will to meet him at the dining hall. “So, he was just gone?” said Will, as he stood with Will in the food line. “Yup, the vanishing continent, that’s him,” said Luke. “I didn’t think anyone could be that huge at 18, naturally. I mean you should have seen his muscles, insanely overdeveloped, hard, veiny; he looked like the freaking hulk. “Some guys are just big,” said Will, with an odd look in his eye. “Yeah, not that big. At least, not naturally.” “I kind of wish I’d seen him now,” said Will. “Well, he left his high school yearbook,” said Luke. “There’s probably a picture of him in there somewhere. I’ll point him out.” “Maybe later,” said Will. “I’ve got to get through 3 chapters of Sociology and write an essay on classical Greek Sculpture and its influence on the Romans.” “Yeah, I’m pretty much buried, myself,” said Luke. “Maybe tomorrow.” While they were waiting in line, this redheaded dude, cut right in front of them. The same dude was always pulling this. Both Will and Luke scowled but neither of them said anything. Luke told himself it just wasn't worth it, but truth be told he was just a little bit scared to say anything. The two boys ate their meal while comparing notes on their first week at Harvard. And Luke swallowed each and every vitamin pill he brought with him. It was an effort, but he did it. Later, on his way back to his dorm, he found himself passing the school gym. He never really noticed it before, but suddenly the doctor’s advice to make some gym time came back to him. “Was that really necessary?” He wondered. The gym was probably filled with a bunch of muscle heads like his roommate, and who needed that? After all, he was taking the vitamins. And working out took a lot of time, time he didn’t really have. Later that night, having finished his studying, Luke was awake, mesmerized by the glow of his laptop. He was looking over Student Health columns. Apparently cardio and light weight training were recommended for the ambitious student on the go. I’m an ambitious student on the go, Luke thought vaguely, jotting down a few tips onto a notepad. Maybe I should give it a try, just to see how it goes. Maybe it’ll help with the fainting. He began researching different free weight exercises he could do. He read all the descriptions and watched all the videos. He glanced at the time in the lower-right corner of his screen: 11:56 PM. It was late, but what did he care? People kept all kinds of hours around here and the gym was open 24 hours. He felt adventurous. He packed a bag with some gym clothes and discreetly snuck down to the main floor. On the way out he passed the security station. “Hello there, young man. What’re you up to?” asked the security guard. “Oh, just, uh, going out to the… ah… to the library,” said Luke, unsure of why he was lying. It just didn’t feel right to say he was going to the gym. What would people think of him? “You sure that’s safe? Y’know, for smart kids, you can be pretty dumb sometimes,” said the guard. “Safe?” Luke raised an eyebrow. “Cambridge is pretty safe, isn’t it?” “Relatively, yes,” said the security guard. “But like anywhere, it pays to take precautions. For instance, a gentleman of your stature should not be out alone this time of night.” “Of my stature,” thought Luke, his hackles slightly rising. “I think I’ll be ok,” he said to the guard somewhat huffily. “Well, if you feel at all unsafe when it’s time to leave the library, call security and we’ll have someone come and walk you back.” “Walk me back? What does he think I am, a girl? What an asshole!” thought Luke, as he walked through the night. “Insinuating I can’t take care of myself.” But walking across the dark, empty campus, the guard’s advice began to make more and more sense. He kept noticing shadowy figures, just this side of visible, walking in the dark, but he couldn’t make out any of them clearly. At one point he was positive one of them was following him. Luke was glad when he finally reached the gym. The place was pretty quiet, he thought, as he flashed his ID at the desk. Not too many people around. Good. He didn’t know how this was going to go and the fewer witnesses the better. There were half a dozen people on the bikes and treadmills, but only one other guy in with the weights. The guy was big, an obvious jock. He was wearing one of those low cut muscle shirts so you could see the valley between his large shredded pecs, and every inch of his big, segmented, striated shoulders, not to mention his bulging biceps crisscrossed by protruding veins. Of course compared to his former roommate, the guy looked like an anorexic midget. But in ordinary terms, the dude had some size. Luke had laid out a plan for a light full body workout for himself. He decided to start with the bench press. Not sure how much weight he could handle, he decided that starting with just the bar would be smart. He laid down on the bench to begin his first set and couldn’t help but notice the Jock had decided to do bench presses also and had selected the bench right next to his for his workout. “Just my luck,” thought Luke. “Of all the things he could be doing in this big empty gym, why does it have to be bench presses?” Luke carefully grasped the bar exactly as it showed in the videos, lifted it out of the supports and brought it carefully down to his chest. Then with some effort, lifted it back up. “Whoa,” thought Luke. That had been difficult but somehow had felt good. He repeated the movement 10 times and somehow felt a kind of pleasant electrical sensation running through his chest, as he did each repetition. When he finally wracked the weight, he was surprised how good the exercise had felt. He could get used to this. Then he noticed the jock watching him with a slight sneer on his face. Smirking, the guy went and loaded his bar with two 45 pound plates and two 10 pound plates on each side. Then giving Luke a cocky grin, laid down and started a set, making his large chest flex and bulge with each set. Luke did a quick calculation. Damn, the guy was pressing 265 pounds! And he had been proud of his 45 pound set. Crap. He suddenly felt like a complete weakling. He had to remind himself that he was at Harvard because one day he wanted to be a medical researcher. And that he had it all going on upstairs where it counted. This guy was probably here on an athletic scholarship like his roommate, might even be on steroids, too. Luke decided to add 20 pounds to his bar, making it 65 pounds. It was way heavier, but somehow knowing that the cocky douche next to him was watching, enabled him to power through it. And damn, even though he was pushing himself to his limits, didn’t it feel good! With great effort he finally wracked his bar and sat up. “Light workout tonight?” asked The Douche. “Yeah,” said Luke, thinking that had been his intention, anyway. “Me too,” said the guy, bounced both his pecs, lay down and easily pounded out another 10 reps at 265. Luke watched the big muscle orbs that were his chest bulge and relax as the guy lifted, once again making Luke feel like a total wimp. “Fuck you,” thought Luke. He’d had enough of this asshole. He moved over to another station to try some bent over rows for his back. But he looked over and saw The Douche setting up shop right next to him again. Really? “Bent over rows?” asked The Douche. “Yup,” said Luke, and he began a set, once again, with just an empty bar. Once again as he strained, Luke felt that wonderful electric sensation running through his back. When he finished, he got to watch The Douche do a set with 180 pounds, his triceps bulging out like defined horseshoes on the back of his arms and his wide heavily muscled back heaving and surging beneath his shirt. Luke knew he shouldn't be pushing himself at this stage. He knew he should just do another set with no weight. But with that smirking asshole watching him, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. On went another 20 pounds. He barely finished 8 reps, but damn, couldn't believe how great it felt. Next he went to do some squats. Sure enough The Douche set up right next to him. Damn. And the rest of the workout went pretty much the same. The Douche would do whatever exercise he was doing, but with 3 or 4 times as much weight. And Luke got to watch every veiny muscle on his impressive frame heave and bulge as he did them. Luke had meant to go light his first time, he really had. And he knew that even his best was laughable compared to the weight The Douche was lifting, but he couldn't help himself; he had to give his absolute best. By the end Luke could barely move. “New, huh?” asked The Douche. “Um. Yeah.” Luke had to take a breath between words. The Douche, meanwhile, barely sounded tired. “Everyone starts somewhere.” He tried to walk but his legs weren’t working. They felt like jelly. The Douche laughed. “Nice, kid. You need to learn when to quit. Let’s see what you got?” “What?” asked Luke. “C’mon, flex your arm,” said The Douche. “No, I… Not… really...,” stammered Luke. “C’mon,” said The Douche. Luke saw the guy was serious, and that he wasn’t going to leave Luke alone until he did. So, Luke flexed his arm. The trouble was, there wasn’t any difference from when it was unflexed. “C’mon,” said the Douche, “don’t just bend it, flex!” “I am flexing,” snapped Luke. Then The Douche started laughing. Luke dropped his arm and started toward the locker room but his legs collapsed underneath him and he fell to the floor. The Douche only laughed harder. Luke tried to get up, but he couldn't. His legs just didn't want to work. Eventually, The Douche’s laughter subsided and he said, “Check this out!” And he whipped off his shirt, display his impressive chest, and carved-up six-pack abs. Then he hit a double bi pose and displayed his baseball sized biceps, followed by a most muscular pose which made his big traps bulge up on either side of his thick, corded neck. “That’s what you want,” he said relaxing. “That’s what you’re working for. But looking at you…” He shook his head. “I wouldn't hold out too much hope.” Luke was burning inside from the humiliation. But it was ok, he told himself. That kind of build wasn't what Luke wanted. That wasn't what he was looking for. He just didn't want to faint anymore. He was going into medical research. He’d leave the muscles for muscle heads like The Douche. “C’mere, let me help you up.” Big biceps bulging, the guy picked Luke up like he was nothing. Luke didn't think the guy was being helpful so much as showing off his strength again. Luke laughed self-consciously as the guy helped walk him back to the changing rooms. The Douche shamelessly stripped down, showing off his entire heaving muscular frame and not inconsiderable package, before heading to the showers. Luke made a point of not looking at his ripped, bugling body. Luke started to get changed, but he was so weak from his workout, he could barely move. There was no way he could make it back to the dorm like this. And he couldn't take the humiliation of calling security to escort his wimpy butt back to his dorm, especially not after dealing with The Douche. Luke flipped out his cell and dialed Will. He was awake, but around here, that wasn't any big surprise. “Hey, Will? I need your help. I went to the gym like the doctor said, but, um, I think I might have strained myself.” “Strained yourself?” “Yeah. I can’t really walk.” He could practically hear Will rolling his eyes over the phone. He arrived at the gym shortly, having freshly showered himself. Luke didn’t think he was up to facing a shower right now. He managed to make his way out to the front entrance and then immediately leaned on Will’s shoulders. “Woah, you really did yourself in, huh?” “Yeah. Guess I don’t know my own lack of strength.” Luke laughed at his own bad joke, then groaned. “My entire body is useless.” “You’ll get used to it. Just make sure you can walk out the front door the next time.” Luke grinned. “I’m not doing it like this again,” he said. “Thanks, Will.” “Don’t mention it.” Luke woke up the next morning in his bed, though he didn’t remember getting in. He must have stumbled in the door and just thrown himself on top of his sheets. Everything ached, but it was a strangely satisfying kind of ache. He sat up and grimaced at the tight contraction in his stomach and side. Tenderly, he swung his legs out over the edge of his bed and looked at himself in the mirror. His spiky blonde hair was plastered to the side of his face. He groaned and reached for his dresser, using it to pull himself up. He blinked. He looked down. Where once, he’d had a bit of a tummy, he now had a flat stomach and a svelte waistline. His legs had lost a little of the harmless flab he’d developed. His arms were a little tighter, and more toned. “Whoa!” Luke whispered. Everything he knew—and he knew quite a bit—about the way the human body worked told him that his accidentally sadistic workout shouldn’t have gone to work that quickly. Luke stumbled into the shower, still a little sleep-drunk. He turned on the hot water and stayed in the shower for a very long time His muscles felt sore, but the pain was fading rapidly. Was that normal? He wasn’t sure. He did know the water felt wonderful, sliding over his skin. He felt great, actually. With some regret, he turned off the water, and dried off in a towel. He examined himself in the mirror, twisting his back so he could see his butt. Whereas before it had been—saggy, now his posterior formed two firm hollows. He slipped out of the bathroom and through the hallway to his room. He closed the door behind him and picked up his shirt and skinny jeans. To his surprise, the waist of his jeans was a little loose, but not in the thighs. They seemed tight. “I must be imagining things,” Luke muttered beneath his breath. He couldn’t have changed so much in such a short time. Could he? Suddenly, his slimmer stomach grumbled, reminding him of his nutritional issues. He had better hurry up so there’d be time to eat before his first class. He quickly finished dressing and assembled a collection of all his vitamins, before dashing out the door to the dining hall. He grabbed a breakfast of eggs, potatoes, bacon and fruit, all the standard stuff, and quickly sat down to eat it. There was plenty of food in front of him, yet when he was finished he was still hungry. Even the small mountain of vitamin pills didn’t help fill him. That was funny. But he decided to listen to his body, because his body probably knew best. He got himself a second breakfast… and then a third, but he had to leave after that to get to his first class on time. Later that day, he ate a huge lunch, and then even later, met Will at the cafeteria. They were talking in the food lines, when once again the red headed guy jumped in front of them. Luke had had enough. He took a step forward to say something when he felt Will’s hand on his shoulder. “Forget it, man,” said Will. “It’s not worth it.” “Not worth getting into a fist fight? I agree with you,” said Luke. “Not worth saying something? My self-respect is definitely worth that.” Luke wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but he knew it felt good. “Excuse me,” said Luke getting the Red Headed Guy’s attention. “You probably didn’t notice but the line starts back there.” The Red Headed Guy looked appraisingly at Luke and Will for a second, before he said, “Oh, sorry, dude, my bad.” Then he left the line and cut back in about a half dozen people behind them. “Can you believe that guy?” said Luke. “He just did it again.” “It’s not him I can’t believe,” said Will, “It’s you. You don’t know what that guy might have done.” “Will, this is Harvard,” said Luke. “It’s not like he’s going to pull a knife and stab me. Grow a backbone, will you?” Luke heard the words leave his mouth and he knew they were right, but they just didn’t sound right coming from him. Weird. Will finished in the food lines first and went to get them a table. A few minutes later Luke showed up with 3 huge plates of food. “What’s up with all the food, man?” said Will. “Just hungry,” said Luke, through a full mouth. “And what’s with the chicken?” continued Will, “I thought you were a vegetarian.” “I don’t know,” said Luke. “I just feel like meat, today. It’s kind of like I’m listening to my body and it wants meat.” “You know how crazy that sounds?” said Will. “Not really,” said Luke. “It’s documented that sometimes we crave certain foods, and when we do, it’s usually for a reason.” “If you say so,” said Will, shaking his head. “Look it up,” suggested Luke. Later that night, Luke was finishing up a paper, when he suddenly felt restless. It took him a few minutes to realize what was wrong with him, but eventually it hit him. He felt like a workout. A workout? Him? Unprecedented. But since it was what the doctor ordered, he decided to just go with it. He didn’t want to run into that douche again. Nor did he feel like facing the security guards insulting insinuations. He had an idea and went into the closet. Luke immediately spied what he was looking for: his roommate’s old pair of adjustable dumbbells. He’d looked up the top recommended low-weight strength exercises that could be performed with a simple pair of dumb-bells. His roommate’s dumb-bells sat in a dock that had a switch to allow the bars to come off carrying different weights. He dialed them for ten pounds in each hand and pulled them out. They were a little heavy, but not awkward. He took off his shirt and pants, left only in his underwear. No need to get those sweaty if he was working out in his own room. “All right, let’s start.” He clicked on a demonstration video on YouTube and followed along with the weights. They started with simple bicep curls. Luke found them almost frustratingly easy. Maybe he’d underestimated his own strength? He paused the video, reset the dumb-bells for 15 pounds, and restarted. This time he felt a more tangible burn in his arms as he swung the weights. As he brought his right arm up and clenched, holding the weight at its peak, he noticed a definite bump on his upper arm. “Where was that yesterday when I needed it?” He thought, as the demonstrator moved through a series of other exercises focusing on the arms and upper body. He followed the movements faithfully, stretching his arms out and back and inwards, all the while holding the weights. Only towards the end of the half-hour session did he begin to feel at all tired. He laid the weights down as the video closed. He was sweating, but not much. Not nearly as much as he had been last night, at the gym. A restless need to continue working out gnawed at him, though he couldn’t really explain it. He eyed the rack that the dumb-bells had rested in, still loaded with weight. No doubt these were finger weights to his roommate. Now, there was a big dude. It reminded him of what the security guard had said to him last night. He’d needed some big dude to protect him just because he wanted to go out after dark! The thought made him angry. With almost spiteful fervency, he reset the weights for their maximum, 50 pounds. He pulled them out of the rack and found he could barely lift them. On pure grit, he jerked them up to his sides and stood in the middle of his room, facing his computer. He clenched his teeth and tried to lift the heavy weight, his entire body going taut with exertion. He watched his slim arm tensing as he tried to raise the dumb-bell. His slight, barely-there bicep strained and bulged pitifully, and the weight moved an inch. He let out a muffled scream of frustration and he managed to get halfway through a proper bicep curl. “Come on, come on!” Driven by inexplicable need, he jerked the weight all the way so that it was touching his upper shoulder, then let it collapse. He fell to his knees with a thud. He stood back up with the other 50-pound weight in his left hand, repeating the process. It was just as painful, nearly impossible, but he managed it. He slid the weights back into their rack. His arms felt like they were on fire, but somehow he couldn’t stop. He wanted to feel the pain. He wasn’t sure why, but he liked it. He adjusted the weights down to a more reasonable 25 pounds and got back up to shaky feet. He forced his way through the same exercises he’d performed with the YouTube video, only this time he could really feel himself working. By the time he was done, he collapsed in a sweaty heap, his skin glistening from the effort. His limbs felt shaky. “Why am I doing this?” He asked himself. He was frightened to realize he didn’t have a rational answer. It just felt good, really good, amazingly good, deep down in his genes good, like it was something he seriously needed to be doing. He tried to convince himself that he was getting in shape to stop the fainting spells, but this had gone way beyond that. It was like an animalistic obsession. That was no good. He was a man of intellect, not some grunting Neanderthal. He took another quick shower and changed into the same clothes he’d been wearing. Damn, he was starving. The dining hall was closed, but there was an all-night sandwich shop in Harvard Square, and they delivered. He called them quickly. “Hi, can I have a pastrami sandwich, no two, no three, no four! Yeah, four. And can you put extra meat on them? Double, or triple, yeah triple’s good. Do you take cards?” It took 30 stomach rumbling minutes for the food to get there. And when it did, it was delivered by some kid with board shoulders and big arms. Guess he didn’t have to worry about being out at night. Luke wolfed all four sandwiches down in less than 10 minutes. Then he thought, “I really ought to review that last economics chapter again.” But still, sleep was so inviting…. He woke up in a panic and checked the clock. 5:30 am. He’d been asleep for 3 hours. “That’s enough,” Luke whispered. He got to his feet and found, to his surprise, that he didn’t feel tired. In fact, he felt positively rejuvenated. He got off the bed, wincing a little when he moved his arms. They still ached a little, but not much, not nearly as much as they should. He remembered reading about that burning feeling. Wasn’t it supposed to happen as your muscles were torn and rebuilt themselves? Should it really feel so diminished already? Maybe his workout hadn’t been as intense as he’d thought. He went back to his laptop. Since when was it so hot, anyway? He was starting to sweat, not from exhaustion, but from the uncomfortable warmth. He took off his shirt, looked at himself in the mirror and his jaw dropped. OMG! Yesterday morning, he’d been trim. Now the barest impression of abs was visible on his stomach, which was cleanly divided down his belly button. In disbelief, he touched his finger to the line and drew it along the firm groove that was now mysteriously etched into his skin. It felt unreal. His arms were bigger, toned and curved; his biceps and triceps even bulged a little. In pure awe—and a little excitement—he raised an arm and flexed it. He felt his hard bicep bulge to the size of a tangerine. He squeezed it – like a rock! He realized he could actually bounce his chest muscles. Whoa. What was going on? Just yesterday he’d hardly had any chest muscles to speak of. And now… whoa. It was exciting, but also worrying. Logically, by everything his mind was telling him, this shouldn’t be happening. But, fuck, it felt good, really fucking good. And suddenly he felt a surge of lust for muscle so powerful, that it frightened him. He wanted to be bigger, way bigger. But that wasn’t who he was, High School Valedictorian, Captain of the Chess Club, not some moronic muscle head! Despite the heat—which he realized was in his own skin—he forced himself to pull his shirt back on. “Okay, this can’t be normal,” he whispered. He went back to his laptop and opened up a window, searching frantically for anything relating to quick muscle development. Most of his searches only returned scam fitness systems that promised overnight transformations. There was almost nothing on anything like what Luke was going through. Suddenly he looked up at the clock and realized he had to go. He had classes to get to, had to have breakfast, take his vitamins. There was no time for this now. He could continue this later, and off he went to eat an even larger breakfast than the day before, and later, a larger lunch. And then in the food line at Dinner—that red headed guy, once again, cutting in front. “Hey!” shouted Luke, pointing right at him. “Back of the line. Now!” The guy, looked at the angry Luke, looked around and turned bright red—almost matched his hair. “And this time, I mean back of the line,” said Luke. “I don’t want to catch you pulling this shit again.” There was a moment of awkward silence, and then someone in the line applauded. Then another person joined and then another. And suddenly there was a wide spread, if somewhat subdued, clapping filling the room. He even got a slap on the shoulder from Will. Apparently, other people had experienced the red-headed guy, too. Luke felt a weird kind of visceral satisfaction, as the red-headed guy slunk to the back of the line. It was a good feeling, a feeling of being strong and in charge, but an alien one to Luke. Seriously, what was up with him? At Dinner, Will was looking at him oddly. “What?” asked Luke, “What are you staring at?” “You look different somehow,” he said. “I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something different about you.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Luke, hoping his freakish growth wasn’t starting to show. The last thing he wanted was to become a subject of study at Harvard Medical Center. “I think I might be having an allergic reaction to some of the vitamins,” said Luke, “You know, swelling a little.” Will looked at him critically and said, “Yeah, I can see it, but that’s not it. Stand up.” “What?” said Luke. “Just stand up for a second.” “Ok,” said a mystified Luke, and stood. Will rounded the table and stood right next to him. “You’re taller,” said Will. “What are you talking about?” said Luke, sounding annoyed although he was actually frightened. Taller, how could he be taller? “We used to be the same height. Now, you’re, at least an inch taller than me, maybe two,” said Will. “That’s ridiculous,” said Luke. “I’m 18. I’m done growing.” Luke wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, Will or himself. “No, man, you can grow all the way through your mid 20’s,” said Will, “and you are taller.” Suddenly Luke felt like a deer caught in headlights. Seriously, he was getting taller, too? What the hell was happening to him? Impending doom seemed to be rushing at him at breakneck speeds. He didn’t know what was causing these changes and he felt powerless to stop them. But then there was a part of him that didn’t want it to stop, fuck no. That part of him wanted it to continue, hell yeah, even get more intense. No! Luke shut that voice off. He didn’t want to hear it. This was wrong. It needed to be stopped. “I don’t know what you’re so upset about,” said Will. “I think it’s awesome. I wish I’d grow a little more.” Luke couldn’t get back to his dorm room fast enough. His brain was whirring. He normally preferred to take things slow, to appreciate his surroundings, but now he felt like someone had stuck a livewire into his brain. Luke threw open his dorm room door only to find a middle aged man standing in the middle of his room, staring at his desk. At first he thought it might be a professor, but this guy’s suit was too expensive. “Can I help you?” asked Luke, a little nervously, not having any idea who this guy was or what he wanted. “I beg your pardon. Forgive my intrusion,” said the man. “I’m John Winton, Todd’s father. We met briefly when he moved in.” It took Luke a second. Oh yeah, the Mountain’s name was Todd. “Oh, yeah,” said Luke, vaguely remembering the man. He once again noted how much larger the son was than his father. “What can I do for you?” “I just came by to see if there was anything he might have left behind,” said Mr. Winton. “Ah, yeah, there were a few things,” said Luke about to get the box of vitamins, but then he noticed Mr. Winton looking him over hard, paying particular attention to his feet. “Is there something the matter?” asked Luke. “I’m sorry I was just noticing your pants appear to be too short,” said Mr. Winton. “Oh yeah,” said Luke, a little nervously, “I guess I’m having a late growth spurt.” There was a moment of awkward silence and then Luke said, “I was sorry to hear about Todd.” “The accusation was spurious,” shot Mr. Winton, “We’re fighting it. Don’t worry; he’ll be back.” “That’s good. He was um… Well, he was… um…” “You didn’t really get on with him, did you?” smiled Mr. Winton. “Ah, no, I wouldn’t say that… We just sort of operated on different… levels,” said Luke. “You know Todd was valedictorian of his class,” said Mr. Winton. “Really?” said Luke, his eyeballs bugging out unintentionally from his head. “No, I didn’t know that.” “You’re surprised,” said Mr. Winton. “Of course you are. It’s a flaw in our culture, that we assume for a man to be intellectually successful, he has to be weak in stature.” For some reason, Luke got the feeling that the “weak in stature” comment had been aimed at him and he didn’t appreciate it. “Frankly, Mr. Winton,” said Luke, “It took me every second of every day, working my hardest at my studies just to get in here. And I just don’t see how your son could have managed it and still built such an impressive physique…” The word, “naturally” hung unspoken in the air for an awkward moment. Luke wondered at his own outspokenness. That was not like him. He usually kept his thoughts to himself, especially if they were at all controversial. Mr. Winton raised an eyebrow at Luke’s outburst and then the corner of his mouth rose up in an odd sort of half smile. “Well, that’s a discussion for another time,” said he said, looking at his Rolex. “I really must be going. Sorry to have disturbed you. I’ll leave my card in case anything comes up and you need to get hold of me.” He placed a business card on Luke’s desk. “But what about Todd’s stuff?” asked Luke. “Why don’t you keep it,” said Mr. Winton. “There’s nothing we can’t replace. Use it in good health.” He nodded at Luke’s desk, turned and left. Luke figured Mr. Winton was referring Luke’s large collection of vitamin bottles sitting on his desk, a few of which had come from Todd’s stash. That was weird; why had Mr. Winton come for Todd’s stuff and then left without it? But now that he was gone, Luke was free to explore his bigger problem. He hopped on his computer and opened four different browser windows. His fingers whirred over the keyboard at lightning speed. He had to find out what was happening to his body. Had to gather all the information he could. Had to understand. Had to learn. He stayed at his computer for hours ignoring his homework. So far he’d read about fourteen different medical conditions, none of which described what he was experiencing. Did people ever just wake up in young adulthood and become naturally larger and more athletic? Not as far as he could tell. If only he knew what was happening, it’d be alright, because he didn’t actually feel bad. He felt alive. He felt amazing. At some point he’d discarded his hot shirt and restricting jeans and was sitting in his underwear at his computer. He couldn’t help but notice the dull glow of his laptop reflected onto his skin, highlighting the new curves and grooves of his larger, more defined body. It was actually pretty cool. He ran his hand over his firm chest and stomach, licked his lips and kept studying, consuming knowledge as hungrily as he’d consumed his huge meals. He dozed off, but snapped back awake almost instantly. He’d almost wanted to believe that he’d been imagining or dreaming the whole thing, but no; when he reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, he felt his bicep bunching into a tight ball. He swallowed nervously and made his way into the bathroom. Once in there, he looked at himself in the mirror. It was unsettling. He knew this couldn’t have happened in two days, not normally. His neck was even a little defined, the lines of his neck meeting his collarbone at sharp angles. His shoulders had swelled and rounded slightly along with his biceps. If he clenched his stomach, his abs actually protruded out slightly. On one hand, it was exhilarating. What guy grew up in America without dreaming of a body like this? On the other, it was terrifying, because there was no possible way that this could have happened. He knew. He’d checked every single article on the matter he could find. His brain was in full revolt. Is it really such a bad thing, though? Instinct beckoned to Luke, inviting him to let go of the mystery, to relax and embrace the changes. They were, after all, pretty cool. He arched his back to get a better look at his rippling stomach. He brushed his firm abs with his fingers and grinned. I mean, it’s not like I’m suddenly unhealthy. He slipped his underwear off his thicker, harder thighs and hopped into the shower. He realized that before he’d always made the trip into the shower as quick as possible, so he wouldn’t glimpse all the little, flabby imperfections that his clothing normally hid. Now he didn’t have to. He had actual pecs, his love handles had been replaced by a trim waist, and his legs, once flabby, were now bulging slightly when he knelt down. He took his time and meticulously cleaned his new body, exploring it like unknown territory. There were no uncomfortable little flaps formed by a bulging tummy now. His body was tight and firm, muscular. He felt amazing. He gave himself a thorough scrubbing down and cleaned his hair, then stepped out of the shower. Suddenly the exhilaration of his new body was gone, once again replaced by the dread of not understanding why he had it, of drowning in the paradox of the change. He dried himself down, returned to his room and got back on his laptop. What had he been doing differently that could have caused this? He glanced at his collection of vitamin pills and looked up anything to do with dietary supplements. There was absolutely nothing suggesting anything like this could happen. Besides, vitamins weren’t causing this. It had to be something inside him. But what could explain such sudden change? Even steroids didn’t work that quickly—and he hadn’t noticed any of the usual side effects, which presumably would have been as rapid as his muscular enhancement and weight loss. With a start he realized it was 4 AM and quickly closed his laptop. He dove onto his bed and tried to sleep, blinking rapidly. He tapped his fingers impatiently against his hard thighs and tried to sleep. He just couldn’t stop thinking.

So muscular that even relaxed I was flexing. So horny I was leaking cum by the gallons. That's how my life became after playing with the Muscle Builder Ap. Seems my growth didn't go by completely unnoticed. A big hole with the constantly flowing cum kept right on pumping out in the yard. The musky smell could be smelt and felt from miles around. No one was immune, just one little whiff and they were in the thralls of climax. The maker of the application was so enthralled that he moved right in. The massive lion was a sight as if he was one of the poor people that were given my "shared" progress. It turned out that some of my close watchers were turned into gigantic mountains of muscles, though not as massive as me. All seems to be in various phases of my growth as well. Least all of them were still mobile, though I don't mind being pinned down by the weight of my oversized cock and balls. To aid in the cleanup from my unending cum flow, my cock was fitted with a massive sleeve to a hose that connected to a series of pumps and tanks designed to take all I can give. Trust me those trucks were rolling all day and night long. Between my normal leaking cum flow, that lion was more than will to worship this massive body I have. "Think I have finally found the remains of your phone." he called out, jogging back into the house. He did find the busted remains of my old smart phone. I did notice that the battery and back of the casing was missing. a sim card was there. "Seems that you did a number on this poor thing." I chuckled, "It's not like I had any control over it, Furor. Even a light touch was too much pressure. Besides I didn't blow up to this size till after it broke." I shifted my weight a little, trying to flex. "Shame there's no way to make me taller so I can least move around." Furor listened to me, before looking back at the phone. "It's a shame we didn't think of that. Didn't think it was possible for anyone to grow this massive. You're like a god of muscle and sex." he purred as he ran a finger over the length of my cock. He felt the heat radiate off it as I blew another load into the tanks. Outside a loud scream or two were heard before the sound of my cum sloshing and splattering. Then there were a series of deep groans, only to have them turn into moans of passion. Another pair of victims to my cum shots. Odds are they grew a little and a lot hornier. I panted for a few minutes. "Need to make sure they aren't loading up before I unload. Don't want to turn everyone into giants. . . yet." I jest a few times like this after learning my potent seed is capable of making others swell. "Good thing the game didn't have a godmode or something like that. Who knows what would have happened." "I can only imagine how massive you would have been." Furor could only purr loudly as he was stroking himself. "So much power and beauty in a tight massive package. Hordes of worshipers savoring their time, trying to earn their god's favor or blessing. All of them. . . bigger than life themselves and yet crave more." He roared as he shot his load all over my swollen cock and balls. I felt the tingle again as if I had gotten bigger, like when the game was running. But as quickly as it started, it ended. Seems every time he came on me, I felt that tingle. It was hard to tell if I was growing or if it was just the feeling I had when he came on my body. Either way I couldn't tell, there was no scale to weigh me, nor was I being measured past the time I was fitted with that sleeve. It was super stretchy and tight enough to ensure my loads wouldn't blast the thing off. At the same time, it didn't feel like anything was on my cock. It was incredible, like wearing some kind of condom. "Damn, I just cannot control myself when I'm around you, you big sexy beast." Furor panted, as he came down from his orgasmic haze. "One of these days, I'll give you all the attention you could ever want. . . and more." he winked as he left the room, heading to take a shower. I collected my thoughts, that lion was one of the few that could keep his cool around my musky scent. More than once, Furor had his way with my massive form. Either pounding my tight ass, which is pretty fun to get at, once I straddle myself on top of my cock; more than one time he wanted to go right for docking. I often worried what would happen to him if he was still in the slit when I started cumming. I enjoyed the way he has to use his entire body just to stroke the length of my cock, the thought making my cock gush more cum, this time no sounds of panic. I drifted off to sleep thinking about how it would be if Furor was as big as I was, could he give me the pleasure he wanted to give. In the morning, Furor walked around like he was a kid in the candy store. I wasn't sure why he was in such a mood, but I didn't want his mood spoiled. He was playing with his phone and giggling. I watched him as he swelled up a little bit, then stopped. The only thing the overgrown cat was wearing was a very tight thong, soaked with his pre. "How do you like this?" He asked me, flexing his newly inflated muscles. "Or maybe I should pack on some more pounds elsewhere." he played with his phone a bit again, this time his groin plumped up. I grunted as I blasted a fresh load into the tanks. "That was incredible. How did you do that?" He showed me his phone. . . it was the Muscle Builder Ap! "Seems the game still works and I managed to unlock a couple new features." He toyed with the phone once more, this time pulling up my profile. "To be honest, it was your profile that unlocked these features. Seems it now added the ability to let anothers growth be controlled." he gave me a sly wink. "and there's one more feature that only you can benefit from." I grew worried, I knew what it did to me and now here it was again, like a repeating nightmare. "Oh don't give me that look. It's perfectly safe, I didn't do anything to control your own growth, though now you can get taller so you can be mobile again." he fumbled with the phone again. He grunted for a moment then sighed. "Seems the only thing it cannot do, is make the person smaller, only bigger." I gave a slight moan as I felt myself being stretched. I was slowly getting taller, my frame adjusted as my limbs and torso began to swell and lengthen. Seem I felt my feet crush the ground as I managed to stand up, destroying the ceiling with my horns and skull. "Holy crap. I can move again." My cock throbbed and quivered in the sleeve as I pumped out another massive load. Free of the house, I can see the massive tanks I was pumping them my cum into. "Enjoying yourself I see." Furor panted, playing with the phone once more. This time my growth slowed to a stop. "Time to check out how good that sleeve on you cock really is." I barely had time to register what he said before I watched my cock starting to plump up and stretch out. My balls already churning loudly as they refilled and expanded. "By the gods. . . I'm getting massive." I felt the balls behind me rest on the ground again and my cock's girth increased. The sleeve held on for a few more moments, before erupting like a hose. "I cannot. . . control myself. so . . . horny." A river of pre was flowing fiercely from the slit. "Now now, don't get ahead of yourself. Kitty wants to play too." Furor purr. "I finally get to pleasure you in the one way I never could." He pawed at himself as his groin swelled up and freed itself from the thong he was wearing. The poor piece of elastic snapped like an old rubberband. "Don't worry about cumming all over me, I set it up so you'll be unable to release for a couple of hours. Plenty of time for me to enjoy doing this." I groaned and moaned as he played and toyed with my massive cock, it throbbed and pulsed with every fiber of my being driven by lust. No matter what Furor did, I couldn't cum. I felt myself getting right to the edge and then it backed off. Even the flow of pre, was down to a trickle. He licked and caressed the slit, I snorted and panted. Then he plugged his massive cock into the slit. I felt the rush! At first, it was a mix of pain and pleasure. This was something I never experienced before - it was a cross being docking and sounding. I felt him thrusting his cock seemed to be growing longer and thicker as he kept going. It grew thick enough that the urethra was completely filled. Still it grew longer and longer, snaking it's way to my base. "Oh yes. . . just a little more. Just a little longer." the lion panted as he worked himself into a fury of sex. "You are going to love what happens next." I felt the massive member throb once then began to unload his hot juices into me. I felt the wave of cum flow though my cock and into my balls. Closing my eyes, I roared out in passion. I thrusted my hips forward without thinking, I felt my body absorbing his cum and begin to swell bigger. "Wha-?" When I opened my eyes, I couldn't see Furor anywhere. My body was still swelling and growing. I kept flexing as my muscles plumped themselves up to bigger and more impressive sizes. I left my feet pressing into the ground again and carving out more earth as they grew. "Furor?" I called out. "Something isn't right. Where did you go? Why is my growth not stopping?" I tried looking around, but everything was getting so small to my view. I couldn't' figure out what was happening. A group started forming around me. I can feel them caressing my swelling body. I flex and pose for them. "You like what you see!" I heard a few moan as they lost control of themselves and came right in their clothes. I must have been close to fifty feet tall by now. I shifted my bulk, my massive cock swinging and snapping and tall building, tree or pole that was close-by. I stepped down with a ground shaking stomp. Only then did I realize the house was underfoot - what was left of it anyways. I shrugged it off and kept entertaining the growing number of worshipers. Some that weren't part of worshiping my growing form were chased off by the mob. A few took it upon themselves to cum over my body, at least the massive feet that was crushing the ground beneath them as I kept growing past the one hundred foot marker with no signs of stopping. The crowd kept swelling as my body did. Bigger and bigger I grew. Taller, thicker, hornier. In the back of my mind I wanted it to stop, but I craved all of this and more. My cock leaking like a waterfall now, I wanted to keep right on growing. Just the sight of my cock growing was turning me on. I looked down to watch the crowd of worshipers, not fleeing from the pooling pre, but swimming and drinking it up. Some even started to grow as well. "That's right mortals, drink in that power. Worship me! Your power feeds me and rewards you." My voice thundered with a deep boom. I gave into my urges, I had to get over that edge where the vanished Furor had kept me from. I had to use both of my hands but still unable to fully grasp my plump cock. I even rocked my hips as I stroked my massive bullmeat. I was in heaven, I craved nothing more than to be muscular and horny all the time. The more I got the more I craved. I felt my balls behind me slapping the back of my titanic thighs. They churn loudly and begin to drawn tightly. I was going over the edge. With a loud bellow that could be heard for miles, my cock twitched then fired a massive volley that seemed to have landed miles away from me. My growth sped up as more and more cum fired from my still twitching cock. I felt the surge of raw power fill me and radiate outwards. My feet were crushing everything in their path as they kept growing. I shot higher into the sky, quickly passing five hundred feet, then a thousand. By the time my climax ended my cock was a little more proportional to my size, though both hands were still needed to firmly grip it. Planes started to buzz around me like gnats. I did my best to avoid swatting at them when they got close. I had no reason to do anything to them, providing they didn't act aggressively towards me. One got too close, and slammed into the wall of muscle that was my left pec as I got another surge in growth. I didn't feel a thing. I couldn't tell if the crowd was still gathering, scattered for safety, or crushed when I started my growth. I didn't care. I roared out in lust as I begin to flex and pose again, not caring where my massive feet crushed under them. My cock spraying streams of pre everywhere. When I go to the most muscular pose, my cock being to unload more cum making me swell up even faster. "That's right, mortals, make me cum!" I bellowed as my growth quickly took me over a mile in height. "You cannot get enough of your muscled up horny bull of a god! Succumb to my will and worship me and my growth." It didn't take much to reach the California coast. So many tall sky scrapers - least they would be if I wasn't there - standing there as if calling out to me. I managed to pluck one of them, with a twisted grin bit down and ate the stony structure. A second one I gave a little more thought on it's fate. I pushed it into the growing slit of my cock. Once it started its way in, my cock did the rest. I chuckled as I cock-vored a second a third building. My balls churned and throbbed as it swelled with each building. I moaned deeply, unable to aim into the air, I cummed hard on the ground, completely filling the major city is cum that nothing was left untouched. Buildings were blown off their foundations or were completely drowned in unimaginable amounts of hot bull cum. I took a few moments to clean it up, by licking up every tasty morsel. I wasn't about to leave this mountain of cum just sit and cool. I felt my size increasing, my growth getting faster, my body growing even stronger than before. I arched my back, bellowing as I reached another powerful climax. Every muscle in my body swelled with power. I wanted more I wanted to fill the world with my muscle, flood it with my cum, then consume it. I was too big for the mortals to stop me - I was too big for myself to even want to stop. I didn't think for a moment before leaping into the inviting ocean. I'm not sure what will befall those near the coasts, but I was only interested in my wants and desires. I bursted over all, swelling while i was submerged in the sea water. I didn't rise out of the water, I grew out of it. most of my growth was now focused in my cock and balls. As soon as my cock crested from the waters I began to blow another powerful load, watching the seas turn a pasty white. My balls stayed in the seas as if drawing in the water, so I could really fill the seas in cum. I kept growing till I saw the curvature of the planet. I thought crossed my mind, at this height I shouldn't be breathing, but yet I was still alive. I thought back to when I was talking to Furor. . . did he enable some kind of godmode on me. I looked around and thought that it was the case. No other way to explain being so tall that I'm bursting out of the upper atmospheres without collapsing from lack of air. I was growing ever bigger, I can feel the planet starting to give under me. I might had been at least 100 miles tall by now. I crouched a little, preparing to jump. My muscles pumped up as if they are willed to my desires. I leaped with all my might, then finding myself floating in space, hovering over the planet. "Much better, free of the mortal bonds that kept me bound to your ever shrinking world." I boomed, flexing as my body seemed to grow even faster that I was freed of the planet. Lucky for me, the earth was between me and the sun, so my impressive size didn't block out the sun for them. "Time to show what I'm about to do . . . to you." I plucked the moon and held it like it was a baseball. To me it was about the right size. "Watch as it becomes a part of me." I moved the baseball sized moon towards my cock, a big glob of pre formed. As I placed the moon against the glob, it spread, coating it completely, then it began to be pulled into my cock. My cock started to thicken as it began to swallow the moon. My balls followed, then my muscles. I roared out as I swelled out in all directions. The tiny earth shrank to be about the same size as the moon was a moment ago, from my perspective. "Now, it's your turn. This time I won't use my hands. Do not fret my loyal worshipers, I feel your power and hear your pleas, I will not harm you as you become a part of me. You will be reborn as will your new home, once I finish." I slowly backed myself and positioned my cock to swallow the former earth. Like before a glob of pre formed at the tip. I moaned lustfully as my cock grew to meet the tiny planet. As before, as my cock swallowed the planet, my entire body swelled and expanded. I craved more. I wanted more. I can hear the worshipers calling out, demanding more. More they shall have. I drifted out, plowing the asteroid belt. I didn't spot Mars, and didn't waste time with such a tiny thing, I wanted something bigger. I slowed as I approached Jupiter, I glared at it. It mocks me, still much too big. . . for now. I felt myself still growing as I went towards my first gas planet, Saturn. I pondered for a moment, it was huge, compared to me still. I rubbed by stomach as it growled. I cock vored a planet and it's moon, I wanted to savor the flavor of this one. I began to inhale, drawing in the famous rings. Unlike when I used my cock to swallow, everything I was swallowing was going right to my gut. I rubbed it as the muscles then began to bulge and push outwards. I was slowly starting to go from body builder to powerlifter. The rings were gone, then I did the same with the gas giant itself. I watched as the gassy surface began to pull off the sphere and into my sucking maw. My body kept growing, my muscle gut was sticking out almost as far as my pecs where. My cock throbbed and twitched with excitement. "One gas giant down. . . one more to go." I roared triumphantly. I returned to Jupiter. My growth made me so gigantic that it resembled a multicolored basketball. Like Saturn's fate. I began to inhale, drawing in the mighty gas giant. My body grew the more material I was swallowing. Even after it was gone I kept swallowing the multitude of tiny moons the giant had. Even built as a monster powerlifter with a massive muscle gut, I craved more. Something wasn't quiet finished. I stroked my mighty planet voring cock as a new prize glowed in the distance. The sun. . . I needed that power. I drifted towards it, it's power drawing me ever closer. I felt the asteroid belt once more and Mars crash into my body, becoming part of it. Venus and Mercury were knocked away by my cock as I began to circle around the sun. I was nearly the same size as it. My cock formed a glob of pre and my maw drooled. Endless power was nearly at my finger tips. My cock began to draw in the sun's fuel from it's southern pole as I was licking, slurping and sucking down the fuel from the northern. Like two massive blackholes, my mouth and cock drank it the sun's raw materials, growing even bigger than before, dwarfing the sun, till it was gone. Darkness for a few moments, before my body began to shine. I managed to flex one last time into a double bicep pose. my cock so massive that it kept my legs apart. Balls so massive they were pulled behind me and my tight glutes were resting against them. I could feel the power constantly building up, it excited me. I was a true muscle god. The thought pushed me over the edge, my cock throbbed then began to fill the space out and around me with thick globs of cum. No matter how much I came, I kept pumping out more and more. I couldn't stop it, nor did I want it too. It took a few years, but my climax did end. The massive globs of cum slowly began to form into spheres and orbited around me. I was now the center of this new solar system. They did become planets formed from my hardened cum. Soon I can feel the presence of the new planets life, worshiping me. Those that were a part of me were now reborn and worshiping me all the more, in their new life as muscle giants.

"Congratulations" read the private message that landed in the inboxes of MuscleFantasies, Mdlftr, ChrisCHJ, Jellifish13, Flamedelft, Roboprobo BritMuscleJock, Suske and AlMacArthur, "you have been selected to experience the MGSCS, the Muscle Growth Superhero Costume Shop, the go to place for all your superhero dreams. Our shop is located within a mile of your home for ease of access and our friendly staff will be able to ensure that your dreams become reality. We look forward to bringing the hero into you!" From the outside, the shop looked just like any other fancy dress shop and whilst the inside looked the same, appearances were very deceiving as MuscleFantasies soon realised when he entered his local branch. He was greeted by a very polite Englishman who said "Ah, yes, He-Man, correct?" As MuscleFantasies stood there in surprise the shopkeeper chuckled and said "Remember that online poll you answered that asked what superhero you would like to look like? Well, that was our take on the concept of viral marketing!" and with that he placed on the counter a pair of leather boots, a loincloth made of fur lined with a metal belt, a breastplate with a cross in the middle of it, two rings that looked as big as the shopkeeper's neck and a sword that could stand against the counter. "The changing rooms are through there, sir" said the shopkeeper as MuscleFantasies picked up the collection of clothes struggling under the weight and as he did the shopkeeper added, "By the way, sir, noises are permitted" This is a bit of a variation of the theme of the Mr. Benn children's programme from the 1970's where Mr. Benn would enter a fancy dress shop, change into an outfit and then go on an adventure. The difference is that as well as going on an adventure, each person (the last person to vote for that option in the poll) literally grows into the superhero they voted for and they get to do the describing of what happens when they do, so with that in mind, MuscleFantasies, get growing into He-Man and see what adventures you can get up to.

2 I waddled towards a bathroom stall to clean myself up before hitting the weight room. As I turned the corner I saw one of the stall doors close quickly. I could hear heavy breathing from the other side. “Hey. Open the door” I said in a commanding voice. Slowly the stall door opened and I could see the terrified eyes of the person inside. “Come here” I said. The guy slowly stepped out of the stall. He was about my height; 5’9” and was wearing shorts and a tight tank top that showed off his impressive physique. I would estimate that he weighed about 240lbs. He was definitely a bodybuilder. He stood in front of me looking at the floor and shuffling his feet. “Did you see what just happened out there?” I asked. “Um-no-no” he muttered. I smiled. “I think you did.” “Sorry man, I didn't mean to stare…I just…I’m sorry man” he stammered. “Woah dude; don't worry about it. I like the fact that there was a witness” I said; trying to reassure him. “Yeah?” he said and finally looked up. He had a great face. Young, full lips with a square jaw. “Fuck yeah. I’ve never had that happen to me before. I just reached 300 plus pounds and it feels fucking unbelievable.” “300 pounds?!” He exclaimed. I flared my lats and tensed my bare chest as he said it. His eyes widened at the site. “Looks like you like these massive muscles.” “Fuck yeah man, you are HUGE.” “I’m WAY past huge dude. Check this out.” I said and raised my arms into a double biceps pose. My bloated 25” arms hardened into to two twisted columns of muscle and veins. I straightened and re-flexed. The kid’s face when white. He stared, opened mouthed and my pumped arms. His eyes darting back and forth between them. No matter how many times this has happened to me I never got tired of the effect this growing body had on otherwise big guys. I lowered my arms and moved into a brutal side chest pose. My 68” pecs erupted with deep striations as my arms inflated again. I could almost feel the veins snaking across my skin. I let out a low growl as I completed the pose. “Like that?” “Fuck” was all he could muster. I smiled and took a step closer to the guy. He looks petrified but also entranced. I placed my hands on my waist and slowly started to spread my lats. I swear I could hear the massive slabs of muscle moving and growing. In the mirror behind my new admirer I could see my body expanding. The kid looked like he was about to pass out as he tried to comprehend the freaky sight in front of him. “Have you ever seen this much mass?” He could only shake his head. “I bet you’ve never felt like the smallest guy in the room.” I said and relaxed the pose. I stepped even closer; I could feel his breath on my skin. I slowly bounced my blood engorged pecs. “You want to feel this massive muscle don't you? I can tell. I can see from that tent in your shorts that you might want to do a little more than just touch.” The kids jaw dropped open and he quickly cover his bulging hard-on. “Don’t worry boy. I know we’ll have a lot of fun. But first we need to toss some huge weights around.” “You-You want to lift with me?” the kid’s eyes light up. “Fuck yeah. You think I look huge now; just wait until I’m pumped. Looks like you can handle yourself too.” I turned and walked to my locker to change into new shorts and replace my tank top. Then we walked out to the gym floor. It was arm day for me. I didn't even ask the kid what he was planning on training. He didn’t seem to care either. The opportunity to lift with a beast like me doesn’t come along that often and this kid wasn’t going to say shit. “I’m Dave by the way.” I said to the kid before we got started. “Tyler.” he replied. “You ready to feel some serious pain?” I asked with a smile. Tyler looked like a deer caught in headlights but I could tell he didn’t want to disappoint me. I did one of the most intense and brutal arm workouts of my life. I kept thinking about reaching 300lbs and having cum without even touching myself. I was more motivated and focused then ever. Watching the kid’s reaction as I pumped up also had me raging for more punishment. At one point while I was curling 225lbs it looked like the kid was going to have to run to the locker room to shoot a load. I teased him by slowing my pace so he could get a better look at my massive biceps. Seeing his reaction had me raging to punish my arms even more. I had him add another 45lb plate to each side. He looked at me like I was completely insane. “Don’t worry man, I can handle this weight but you better stay close though; in case I need a hand.” I processed to curl the massive weight slowly. I could feel every fibre of my bloated arms exploding. Thick veins ran across every service. Drops of sweat were falling to the floor. Tyler couldn’t look away. He licked his lips as I continued to move the bar up and down. After six reps I look at Tyler and said “Push down on the bar”. His mouth fell open. “DO IT!” I said forcefully. Tyler grabbed hold of the bar and started to apply pressure. I started to growl as blinding pain filled my arms. I lowered the bar, closed my eyes and started to curl the weight back up. “Press harder” I managed to say through my gritted teeth. The pain increased and I let out a loud scream but refused to let the weight stop moving. I stomped my feet and completed the rep. I send the bar crashing to the ground. I was barely able to move my arms but I managed to flex them for Tyler. “Look at this mass! I bet you want to feel these biceps.” “Fuck yeah!” “Not until we’re done” I said. Tyler was able to do four reps with the 225lb which I was very impressed with. His arms looked ripped and massive by the end. I have to say I was impressed by Tyler’s abilities. He was a strong kid with perfect technique. He was definitely not ready for the likes of me however. He puked three times during our hour and a half workout. I reassured him by telling him there aren’t many guys that could keep up with me but I could tell he was embarrassed. By the end I was so pumped I couldn’t raise my arms past my waist. My tank was dripping with sweat and was breathing very heavily. Tyler looked a little pale but he was looking pretty jacked. “How’s that pump feel?” I asked him. “Fucking incredible! I’ve never been this pumped.” “Good. You start training like this all the time and you’ll be a freak like me in no time.” “Fuck man, I’d love that but you are the biggest monster I’ve even seen. Those veins on your arms look disgusting.” “You think I look disgusting do you!?” “No! That’s not what I meant!” Tyler said and took a step back as if he was afraid I’d try to hit him. “I don’t think a man can be too big. The bigger and more ripped the better. I want to be as grotesquely huge as you someday.” “Calm down man. I knew what you meant. Not many guys think like that. To be honest; nothing gets me going more then when people think I’ve got too big. Gets me going up just thinking about the scared looks on their faces.” Tyler smiled. I could tell he knew exactly what I meant. Seeing this young kid getting off on my size and dreaming of growing absolutely monstrous got me going. Combined with my incredible pump, I could hardly contain myself. “Grab your shit from your locker and follow me.” I commanded. Tyler didn’t even hesitate. He nearly ran to the locker room.

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

The Edge - Part 6 - A Swoldier's Call “To feel strong, to walk amongst humans with a tremendous feeling of confidence and superiority is not at all wrong. The sense of superiority in bodily strength is borne out by the long history of mankind paying homage in folklore, song and poetry to strong men.” – Fred Hatfield I guess having someone else going through the same thing as me made it a bit easier to deal with. Even though when Eddie and I were "Eric" and "Colin", we just competed against each other, driving the other one to get even bigger. I'm still not sure if that made the situation better or worse. Except for the gym, where no one had known us before we turned into hulking behemoths, we'd kept a really low profile. Somehow we just couldn't get a cover story for how we'd managed to put on 130 lbs of muscle, each, overnight. As for the actual transformation, we'd come to the conclusion that it must have had something to do with Eddie's cold. Not that it made any logical sense, but a bodybuilder sneezed on him, he got a cold and changed into a bodybuilder, then gave me the cold and I'd changed. To be honest, we were kind of scared to go out and potentially spread the "disease". Colin and Eric didn’t care, though. I don’t think they really thought about what would happen if it spread. Colin really didn’t think period from what I could tell. It’s odd losing control of yourself like that. It’s not really that I’m not me anymore, but it’s just that all of my priorities shift around. Gym and my body come first. Second and third, really, too. It’s an urge, one I can’t ignore, that shuts out all the academic stuff that makes me, “me”. It’s not that Colin doesn’t want to think about those things, he literally can’t. The instinct for bodybuilding is way to strong, it just shuts out literally everything else. Then there’s all the knowledge that comes with building and having a professional bodybuilder’s body, I’m still not sure what all that came from, but when I am bodybuilding, it feels like that most natural thing I’ve ever experienced. My body, cumbersome, motion restricted, bulging in odd places, balanced weirdly, something I can’t control well, becomes natural to me. The muscles, the weight of them on me feels ‘right’, like I’m supposed to be like that. I am the ultimate male, and I must be like that. Once the urge has me, I can’t even conceive of being trapped in a small body like I used to be, big is the only way to go. The transformation into Colin really is like having the most passionate, wild sex you’ve ever had in your life. There’s nothing else, just the task at hand, and you’re driven with an intensity you can’t build from “normal, everyday, life”. I mean, in bed you’re still you, but you’ll do things during really really hot sex that you probably wouldn’t do out in public. I’d never go into a gym normally, but when the call hits, I don’t have a choice. It’s all I can think of, all my purpose is, all my body is built for, and I have to answer, Colin arrives, and I have to go. I guess it makes sense, though. Regardless off the differences between me and Colin, since the change, my brain has been somehow hardwired to equate sex with bodybuilding. It’s the one thing that unites us. I enjoy the workout more than the best lay I’ve ever had in my life. For a brief second, while the workout is at its most intense, I can take the enjoyment too. Then all too soon, the set’s over, and either I’m driven uncontrollably to the next set, or I regain my senses as the primal drive and Colin recedes until they need to come back out. This is my life now, I guess. It had been a couple of days since my transformation into the hulk, sans green coloring. Eddie and I were hurrying out of the gym in our usual demeanor after we “came to our senses” finishing the workout: eyes down, trying not to engage anyone, shuffling over our own quads. We still couldn't get the gait right, too much muscle on the legs to walk right. “Hold up a sec, guys!” Shit, someone had seen us. I turned around looking for the source of the voice as a gangly teen rushed up to us. He was dressed in an ill fitting oversized tank top that hung off him like a weird loose skin, a pair of what I thought were basketball shorts and I couldn't believe it: a neon green and black headband. "We're kinda in a hurry," I forced a smile to the kid as I tripped up over my quads and steadied myself. I - well Colin - had seen the kid just about every time we'd been in the gym. He was always lifting, a bit wrong on form for Colin's liking (how can you tell?), and actually looked to be getting scrawnier the more he worked out. "I was just wondering if you guys were competitors." He looked excited, a bit nervous maybe, to be talking to the huge imposing figures that my roommate and I had become. "Um.." Eddie and I exchanged a quick glance at each other under our simian brows. The transformation had left us looking more like hulked out cavemen in my estimation rather than competitors. "No, we just lift for um... Fun." The word kind of stuck in my throat. My still rather new deep bass voice not sounding quite right, rumbling the wrong way somewhere deep beneath my oversized pecs. "Oh wow! Really? I thought for sure you guys were competitors. Sorry, name's Jason. I'm trying to get big like you guys! It's a dream of mine, competition, you know, like that show coming up," he pointed over to a poster on the wall. The poster was for an upcoming local bodybuilding show. “National Qualifier” was plastered all over it, whatever that meant. I looked at the picture in the center with a huge bodybuilder in his suit on the stage doing a front lat spread (how did I know what that was?). I was bigger than him…now. For a second I wondered what it would be like to be up on that stage, flexing in front of all those people. It kind of repulsed me... at first. Eddie had lumbered over to where I was standing, transfixed at the poster. I couldn't help it. The idea really didn't appeal to me, but I couldn't shake it. I kept imagining myself being the one in the posers on the stage. I tried to clear my head, but the images kept coming back, stronger. "You guys gotta tell me your secret! How'd you get so big?" Jason was on edge, hanging on an answer that might unlock his desires for size. Trying to break the spell of the compulsion to compete that was building in me, I managed an answer, "We kinda just caught the iron bug, ya know. Kept with it and one day just looked like this." My eyes never left the poster, images of me, flexing, flashing through my mind. My voice was hollow, like there wasn't too much intellect flowing out of me. A few muscles involuntarily flexed along with the routine spinning through my head. It was weird, I couldn’t help myself. The more I saw what passed for the “example” of what should be in that show, the more I wanted to get up there and show them what a real man was like. I looked at the guy’s arms. Then I looked down at mine, the veins snaking their way across the biceps, the pump still fresh from the workout we’d just suffered through. I flexed it tentatively, watching the muscle jump up into a hard ball. Fuck, I was bigger than him, harder too. And he couldn't even fill out the posers properly! Ha! They'd have trouble finding a pouch large enough to contain me! I saw the crowd in front of me, cheering my alpha body, worshiping the perfection of male development. A burning started inside of me - I absolutely had to be on that stage. It was like I could feel the lights on me, my posers filled to the maximum, music pounding in my head, lost in a routine designed to show off every fuckin muscle and striation I had. I mean, why the fuck were Eric and I doin’ this if we weren’t gonna show off for the whole fuckin world to see. I looked down, bunched my chest and saw my pecs fighting for space on my torso, with nowhere to go they just pushed out, straining my tank top. A thread through the seem on my huge traps popped. I let out a deep guttural chuckle. Fuck yah, no one else had thickness like that. “Fuck, bro, we’re doin that fuckin show!” I looked over at Eddie with a dopey smile, holding my pose. “What?! You’re out of your mind. Why in the blue hell would I want to get up in front of all those people looking like…well, like this?” he gestured down to his vein covered, immensely bulging, chiseled bulk. “Bro, why the fuck wouldn’t you? Fuck, just think of it, showin all this shit off,” I flexed a double bi, the seams of my tank, this time down the sides, groaned with the flaring of my lats. I heard an audible gasp from Jason, that just edged me on, fuck yeah little guy, this is a real man. “Think of it, showin all those pussies that think they’re real men what a real fuckin alpha male looks like! I know you want to show off that fuckin chest, those arms, and fuck man, your quads don’t even fit in pants anymore.” I half-punched Eddie in his delt, he flexed it involuntarily. “Heh, it might be fun.” he looked down at his quads, and flexed them, testing them. “Gonna have to do more squats though,” he pulled up his workout shorts almost to his hip to show the whole leg, veins popping at every angle on the hard muscle. “Whatcha think bro?” he turned to me, quad flexed, hit a most muscular, sending his delts and traps into a deep relief. To finish it he stuck out his tongue, through a cocky big smile. He brought a meaty arm down and pulled up the bottom of his tank, exposing deep cut abs and obliques. I swear you could grate cheese on the guy. “Fuck yah! Sign me the fuck up!” Jason looked like he could probably cream his basketball shorts with the display Eric and I just gave him. Why not push him till he does. “Fuck yah!” I hit a most muscular back at Eric. We laughed a deep dopey laugh and strutted over to the counter, Jason, looking slightly red faced, hanging behind in tow. The little guy sitting at the desk looked scared. Fuck, I would be too if two gods like us walked up. I slammed a hand down on the counter, “We’re here to fuckin sign up for that!” I pointed over to the poster, “you’re fuckin lookin at the winners, little man!” Eric and I laughed and high fived. “Alphaaa!” our impossibly deep voices carried over the entire gym as we both yelled at each other, smiled and hit a crab pose, letting every vein on our chest and arms pop out. Most of the guys working out stopped to see what the loud noise was, turning our direction. Fuck yeah! Let em' look, I love showing off this alpha body. The little guy behind the counter just sort of looked at us, and put two forms in front of us. “Just fill that out and I’ll take your entry fee.” “I’m so going to that show,” I heard Jason say to himself as he walked carefully back to the locker room to clean up. Heh, this’ll be fun. We walked into the apartment. Somewhere on the drive home we’d come back to our senses. “What did we do again?” Eddie was still in shock. “I think we signed up for one of those bodybuilding shows,” I was still trying to process what happened after I saw the poster. “Um. Dude, we know less than nothing about those. What’re we supposed to do?” “_We_ don’t do anything. I think this is something Eric and Colin have down. I’m afraid we just may be along for the ride.” the panic started setting in to me.

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

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

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

Coach Conway walked in when he heard nothing but silence from the locker room. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Colin in the middle of the room. His broad shoulders were extended as he bridged the gap between the massive Jackson, and the diminutive Marcus. Coach Conway looked down at the broken locker clasps on the floor. "What happened here?" The room was still and silent, except for Marcus, who spoke up and said "Well it wasn't Jackson." The Coach knew better than to challenge Colin, especially in front of the whole team. With his back still turned to Coach Conway, Colin spoke up. "Hey Coach, I need to see Jackson's progress file. All of his on-field stats, and his training history, dating back to when he started on the team." When he didn't hear any movement, Colin twisted at the waist and just looked over at me. As soon as Coach saw that big frame turning, he ran back into his office. "Hey everyone, that's my big brother Greg. Some of you know him from last year's team, although you might not recognize him. I put 17lbs of muscle on him in a few weeks." I put. Those words rung in my ears, probably because they were true. Here I was, standing in my old locker room, with my old team, and my younger brother was overshadowing me. Before he even took to the field. Within minutes, he had mastered the team and everyone was fixated on him. Honestly, I was quite proud of him, and I stood up straight as he looked at me and pushed my chest out. My eyes were right on Colin's and as his gaze drifted, he pulled my line of vision right to Marcus. Marcus was staring at me intently, almost as if he was sizing me up. I vaguely remembered him from last season, but certainly not for any athletic skills he may have had. I felt his eyes on me, and looked over at Colin, who just nodded. Without even thinking, I pulled off my tshirt and just stood there as Marcus examined me closely. "I remember you from last season, Greg" he said to me, Colin's hand still resting on his shoulder. "That 17lbs is a good start for you. And a good indication of what Colin can do for me." A good start? Who did he think he was? I looked over Marcus, trying to see what Colin saw. Then it struck me: Marcus had a good lean frame, but just like Colin, he needed the right catalyst to spur his growth, and now he had found it. In the form of my younger brother. Marcus shrugged off Colin's grip and approached me. I still had a good 5-6 inches and probably 45lbs over him, but he just stood next to me. Looking directly at me, I saw him inhale, deeply, and very slowly, his chest expanding. "17lbs will be a good start, indeed" he said quietly and walked away. As Marcus suited up for the workouts, Coach Conway came back in with Jackson's training records. He started to explain them to Colin, who just held up a hand to silence the Coach. He took the records and guided Jackson to a quiet corner with 2 chairs. They sat on those chairs facing each other, Jackson with his head low and listening intently as Colin wen through his file. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but Colin was doing most of the talking, with Jackson nodding and agreeing. Finally they stood up and I just heard Jackson say "I will do whatever you say, and I will NOT let you down." Colin summoned over Brendan and Jeremy, who were waiting patiently. They chatted a bit and all I heard Jeremy say is "it's in the car." In a flash, he was gone and returned with a weight vest. Jeremy handed it to Colin, with ease, considering the vest itself weighed 75lbs. Jackson took off his shirt as Colin instructed him to put on the vest. Even for a big guy like Jackson, a 75lb weight vest can be a staggering adjustment. But eventually he quickly found his footing. As Brendan and Jeremy took Jackson out onto the field, all I heard Colin say was "Run. Run him hard. Sprints, cross country, uphill, upstairs. Just RUN." Colin turned back to the rest of the team as they prepared to head out to the field. Marcus came up beside him with a bat in hand. Colin addressed the team, his team. "You will give 110% on that field today and every day. You will never give less. And then you will realize your full potential." With a sly smile, Marcus handed him the bat. Colin gripped it, his thick arms extended, with one hand at each end. His python forearms started to tense, then his biceps pumped up, his thick triceps fully flexed. I heard a subtle, low splintering as Colin slowly increased pressure on the bat. Everyone in the room stopped breathing as the bat started to yield to Colin's strength. Then just like that, he snapped it right in half. "On the field, now." Colin boomed.

After what seemed like hours, Porthos’s body was racked with pain. His arms and legs were on fire, his chest was heaving and he was breathing hard. His heart was pounding and he was sweating like a pig but still he was denying the Cardinal his triumph. Another bolt of pain produced another scream and Porthos could feel his arms and legs burning in pain. He knew that he could never give up and yet in the back of his mind he wondered if he should die, but realised that would give the Cardinal his ultimate triumph. Another bolt of pain woke him up to the fact that he had to escape. However as he was planning on his escape, the Cardinal entered. “So” he said, “do you have anything to say?” Porthos closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “I defy you!” he grunted and with that he pulled on his restraints. Slowly but surely, the wheel at the top of the device started to turn and despite the torturer’s best efforts, the pain in Porthos’s arms and legs started to recede and as it did, Porthos’s strength increased. The Cardinal realised that unless he did something and quickly, the giant would be free and so took a flaming torch from one of the walls and held it aloft. “You will die!” he said, and with that lit a rope. Porthos watched the rope caught fire and followed it to the end and gasped as he saw the ceiling was full f spears all attached to a frame so that when the rope burnt through it would pierce anyone on the rack. Porthos knew it was a race against time and redoubled his strength. As he pulled against the restraints, a bulge developed in his loincloth. The bigger the bulge got, the more intense Porthos’s breathing got, the more intense the breathing got, the harder Porthos pulled. After a few moments, the loincloth gave up it’s struggle and ripped to reveal Porthos’s own spear which was already tipped with a dribble of liquid. The sight disgusted the Cardinal and he left the room, but the torturer was intrigued and gingerly touched the spear. Porthos moaned and his pull relaxed. He had never experienced these feelings before. He felt powerful, weak, strong, timid and aroused all at the same time. The torturer grabbed the spear and started to rub hard. Porthos's mind whirled with images of Hercules breaking free of chains, Samson bringing down the temple and even his own incredible feats of strength. The faster the torturer rubbed, the harder his spear got and the harder his spear got the stronger he got. Porthos suddenly roared and pulled the restraints so hard that the rack broke under the strain and Porthos was free. He jumped off the rack and wrestled the torturer to the ground just as the rope snapped and the spears crashed to the ground. Porthos rolled onto his back to find that he had crushed the torturer who was lying on the ground, clearly in agony. As Porthos was about to leave, the torturer gasped, “Hail Porthos, the strongest man to live!”. *** Porthos reported his tale to Captain Treville who noted his report with concern. Whilst he was pleased that Porthos had escaped and not revealed any information, the fact that the Cardinal was now willing to use torture was a frightening development. Porthos replied with a smile saying “Whilst I am a Musketeer, no one will be able to beat us!” with that he thumped his chest, saluted and walked out of the Captain office looking for D'Artangan, the newest recruit to the King's Musketeers and a man almost as much in awe of Porthos's strength as Porthos. As he did, he felt his spear start to bulge and hoped that the new recruit would not be frightened of his request which he repeated in his mind over and over again. "Punish me, D'Artangan. Punish me and reveal my strength!" The End???

The walk that the lady led the Titan on was almost like a dance. As she took decisive steps forward, the Titan, now slobbering like a dog, followed with stumbling steps, almost constant burbling and inane smirking. Porthos had no idea who this lady was, but he was falling head over heels in love with her. As she opened the door to a house and gestured the Titan in, it was clear to all that he had one thing on his mind as there was a noticeable bulge in his breeches. Ma maison est ta maison, ma rose est ta rose, mon amour est ton amour!" For the first time in many a year, Porthos felt weak at the knees. The personwho he had found out was a Countess, has showered Porthos with gifts, food and was now lying in his lap with her eyes closed and her mouth pursed as if expecting a kiss. "Madame" said Porthos, gently moving the Countess, "I regret that I am already married to the nation. You honour me with your confessions of love and yet, I must refuse!" "I understand" she said, and stood up, "but please, allow me to witness the power that a living Titan has in his body!" Porthos chuckled as he stood up. Everyone wanted to feel his strength, men, women and there was that occasion when a small boy squeezed his arm and said "Bigger than my father's!" so Porthos consented and bent his arms causing the shirt he was wearing to tear along the seam. The Countess gasped in admiration and instantly followed the tear with her finger, prodding the muscle that had created it. "And how strong is that?" she asked "Stronger than any man on earth!" Porthos smiled "Please, my lord" she said, "please, show me the strength that makes you a Titan!" Porthos looked around the room and found a very large oak cabinet, filled with various wine glasses and plates. He stepped over to it, squatted down, placed his hands underneath it and grunted. He slowly stood up, taking the cabinet with him and then removed a hand. "The power of a titan!" he grunted as he lifted the cabinet with one hand. The Countess moaned at this display of power and after Porthos lowered it back to the ground, she pounced on him and grabbed hold of his shirt. She ripped it open and pounded his chest. Porthos was suprised by this, but had to admit that he was enjoying all this attention and so flexed his chest. This caused the Countess to moan even more and so he breathed deeper causing the chest to heave and as it did, a stain started to appear on his breeches. He was just about to kiss the Countess when she shouted "NOW!" and jumped down. Porthos turned round and registered another man bringing a cannonball down on his head before blacking out. *** "I AM A TITAN!" roared Porthos as he broke the chains holding him to the steps of a temple dedicated to the Greek gods. As he collapsed to his knees, breathing hard, Hercules clapped his hands. "So, the Frenchman thinks he's better than me, does he?" and so saying launched himself at Porthos and two were involved in an epic Greco Roman wrestling match that if any man had witnessed it would have had them loosing their trousers within seconds. After nearly thirty minutes of man handling and feats of strength that would have left men, women and even children speechless, Porthos lifted the now limp Hercules over his head and roared "THE TITAN IS DEFEATED. LONG LIVE THE TITAN!" and threw him down the stairs and flexed every muscle in his body to prove his power *** Porthos groaned as he came to from the cannonball impact. As he opened his eyes, he could see the Countess in front of him who started to chuckle and then laugh. "So the titan thinks he is a god, eh?" she said and turned her back on him. "My lady, I..." started Porthos and then suddenly realised that something was wrong. He couldn't move his arms or feet. He opened his eyes wide and gasped. He was strapped, naked save for a loincloth, to the one thing he feared the most, a rack. The only thing that could make this situation worse was... "Ah, Monsieur Porthos, glad to see you back in the world of the living!" "Cardinal!" sneered Porthos as the French First Minister and advisor to the King entered the room. "Good, I am glad to see that you haven't lost your memory. Shame though, all that strength would be useful for my Guards. I assume you know Milady de Winter!". The countess bowed and when she stood up removed her disguise causing the giant to tug at his restraints. "Now then" said the Cardinal, "just tell us what we want to know and we'll let you go!" "I will never betray the confidences I have in me!" Porthos grunted. The Cardinal nodded and a bolt of pain shot down Porthos's spine causing him to scream in agony. "Now" he said, as Porthos started to puff and pant, "I wonder how many of those the famed titan can take before he begs to tell us everything? Milady?" and with that he left the room as another bolt shot down the spine of the giant causing his screams to resonate throughout the chamber.

“Gentlemen, what you are about to witness is the ultimate test of strength” For days, rumours had been whirling around Musketeer Headquarters as to why Captain Treville had asked all active Musketeers to gather in the main courtyard at midday on the longest day of the year. Some people thought that it was to select the newest cadets to join the corps, some people thought that the King was coming to confer some great honour, some even thought that D’Artangan was going to announce his engagement to the Queen’s maid, so the start of the Captain’s speech was a little strange “For years” he continued, “you have all marvelled at the strength of Porthos. A man who has ripped oak trees out of the ground, a man who has wrestled the largest bull in Christendom to the ground and a man who would willingly give his life for the King and this country! Today, though, he will perform a test of strength that no man has ever performed before” and with that he nodded and Aramis raised a curtain revealing a cannon “This, gentlemen, is Big Bessie, the largest and heaviest cannon ever to be built in this nation. The cannonballs it fires require two men just to load it” and with that he clicked his fingers and Athos and D’Artangan struggled out of the main building carrying a cannonball that was as big as their heads. After several moments they managed to load it into the cannon and mopped their brows. “Note” continued the captain, “that is it sitting on a board that is twelve feet long and six feet wide” and with that he nodded again and Aramis, Athos, D’Artangan and several other Musketeers pulled on any number of pulleys and raised the cannon into the air. Just then, an almighty roar came from inside the main building and Porthos stomped out, his face redder than the apples and his chest heaving and naked. He stomped down the steps and grunting, lay down under the board. “DROP!” came the command and the men holding the cannon let it drop but before it reached Porthos’s chest, the titan shot two arms into the air and caught it. Huffing and puffing, he roared at the top of his voice and lifted the board and the cannon as far as his arms would allow him and started to count. “ONE” he roared, “TWO” he grunted, “THREE” he shouted and then swore at the top of his voice. “COME ON PORTHOS” shouted a Musketeer in the crowd, “SHOW THAT CANNON WHO THE STRONGEST MAN IN THE WORLD IS!” That encouragement fuelled the fire in Porthos’s belly and he continued to lift. “FOUR” His chest was heaving, sweat was pouring off his face and his breathing was getting harder “F…FIVE!” “ONE MORE” screamed the crowd as one Porthos lowered the cannon to his chest and taking a massive breath, gritted his teeth and yelled “MERDE!” as he lifted the cannon for a sixth time. The Musketeers charged with holding the cannon quickly rushed to the giant and connected it back to the pulleys and took the strain as Porthos stood up and roared his power. To describe Porthos as a titan was unworthy to the Titans of ancient Greece. This was a man, yes, but a man who just exuded physical strength. And a man who was being worshipped by everyone present. Except one man. He had watched the scene with an increasing sense of concern. For he was a spy from the Cardinal’s Guards and he had one very simple mission. Dispose of Porthos once and for all. “He is not a man” he thought to himself as Porthos flexed his mammoth chest, “he is a true titan. He cannot be defeated!” and with that he slipped away to report his findings to his superiors, the roaring of Porthos celebrating his triumph over metal ringing in his ears. *** Cardinal Richelieu listened to his spy’s report and nodded. The spy bowed and left the Cardinal to muse on the findings. He stood up and went to the balcony that overlooked the city of Paris. He’d known for years that Porthos was the lynchpin of the Musketeers and every attempt to kill him had failed. The Cardinal was about to thump his hand onto the balustrades when he suddenly had a thought. Porthos was the lynchpin of the Musketeers and therefore would be privy to information that no one else would be. As he thought more, a wicked smile crossed his face. No, killing Porthos was not the way, capturing Porthos alive was the key to bringing the Musketeers down. As he went back to his desk, he was reminded of one of the things his spy had said. “Your Eminence, that man is not human!” The wicked smile now turned into a grin. “Any man is human” he thought to himself, “and as such has human desires!” He wrote a note to his premier spy and attached it to the foot of a raven that he set fly across the Paris skyline. As he watched it fly, the grin turned into a chuckle. “Let’s see the inhuman Musketeer work his way out of that!” and with that ordered his carriage to be made ready. *** “Aye” said Porthos, downing his fifth mug of mead that day, “but don’t let the Captain hear what she said!” The Musketeers all laughed loudly as Porthos told another tale of another woman, so in awe of his strength that she called him “husband” in front of her husband. Porthos liked being with both men and women, but liked it best when whoever he was with was having a good time. He was just about to order another round, when a man burst into the inn. Looking around, he spied the Musketeers and grabbed Porthos by the collar “My lord” he said, panicked, “my child’s life is in danger!” Instantly, all the Musketeers stood up and followed the man outside and instantly sprang into action as they saw what had happened. There was a house on fire in a nearby street and although the man and his wife had escaped, their child was trapped on the top floor with no means of escape. “Gentlemen” said Porthos, taking charge, “Alert the guards that a fire is in need of attention. Athos, Aramis, organise a water chain, D’Artangan, go to headquarters and bring reinforcements, this fire cannot be allowed to spread!” The Musketeers saluted and set about their tasks as Porthos looked up and saw the child being engulfed by smoke. “WHAT’S YOUR NAME?” he shouted “Pierre” coughed the child “PIERRE” shouted Porthos, “I WANT YOU TO CLIMB OUT OF THAT ROOM AND JUMP. I PROMISE AS A KING’S MUSKETEER TO CATCH YOU!” As Pierre clambered up to the window frame, the man’s wife fainted. “I promise you, sir!” Porthos said, as he positioned himself below the window, “your child will come to no harm!” Suddenly, there was a gasp as Pierre lost his footing and fell. Porthos dived towards the house, rolled over and gritted his teeth as Pierre landed squarely on his stomach. He bounced up a few inches and Porthos caught him in his arms on the way down. Just as he was about to comfort the child, he saw an overhanging piece of wood, well alight, break off and fall to the ground. Placing Pierre on the ground, he covered the child and took the force of the impact which would have killed a normal man. Porthos, still covering Pierre, crawled away from the house just as a group of guards arrived and started to tackle the blaze, closely followed by Athos and Aramis and a collection of people all holding buckets waiting to be directed. As Porthos staggered to his feet, Pierre crawled out from under him and ran to his father. “Thank you, sir!” said the father, as he hugged his child, “You are truly a living Titan” “Indeed you are, sir” said a voice, and Porthos turned around to find a finely dressed woman holding a rose in her hand. Porthos was instantly smitten and as the lady turned round, waving the rose as if it were a lure, Porthos stumbled along, muttering.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The following is a section from one from the books I have written for the self publishing website Lulu.com and as it deals with a subject matter that members are experienced in, I am hoping that members will critique it before I send it off. The target audience is a family audience, hence the lack of things that are usually seen on this site. It has been a decade since I last was a Musketeer, sadly time has not been kind to my faithful steed Sandy and I am desperate to help him continue in that role, even if it means meeting with someone who is alleged to have communed with the devil. “Well, hello there” said a voice, “enjoying my researches are you?” I span round, drew my sword and shouted “Your evil magic cannot harm me, I am a Musketeer Lieutenant and…” “You’ve come to see me, am I right?” continued the voice, “Here, let me add some light to the situation” and with that he snapped his fingers and every candle in the room lit up and revealed him as a rather old person resembling any number of brilliant, if slightly oddball inventors. “Alexi?” I asked “The same” he replied with a smile and noticing my sword said “Let me guess, purveyor of the dark arts, communes with the devil?” I nodded, sheathing my sword. “Yes” he smiled, nodding, “I suppose I do let those rumours get a little out of control” It was becoming abundantly clear that this wasn’t a wizard or indeed a warlock, Alexi was just another of the many people trying to bring the seventeenth century kicking and screaming into the modern era and as a person with the slight scientific bent, I felt I could trust him. “So Henri, what I can do for you?” he asked “You know who I am?” I gasped “Well, of course I know” I said and pointed to a bowl of water in front of him and added mystically “I see all and know all!” and then smiled, “besides how many English Musketeers do you know?” “He’s as batty as a fruitcake” I thought to myself, which of course meant he was absolutely harmless and I apologised for drawing my sword on him. “Oh, don’t worry about that” he smiled, “happens to the best of us. Now, let’s see if this water can tell me why you’re here” and he tapped his bowl and as I watched I gasped as an image appeared in the bowl of Sandy’s drenching. “But that’s impossible” I breathed. “Nothing’s impossible” he smiled, “you just have to know what to do. So, let me guess, you’d like me to take a few years off Sandy right?” “Can you do that?” I asked “Can I do that?” he laughed, and then stopped, “Can I do that?” he asked and scratched his head, “Of course I can!” he added and leapt out of his chair and started gathering all manner of ingredients listing them as he went and started to throw them into a cauldron that was in the middle of the room. “Newt’s Eyes” he said, “Snakeskin, Boiled toadwarts” “Bolied Toadwarts?” I asked “Yes” came the reply as he threw more ingredients in “just everyday ingredients that you have lying around the house!” “Your house maybe” I thought as I peered into the cauldron, “but certainly not mine” and asked him “And this mixture will do what?” “You’ll see” chuckled Alexi as he stirred the mixture and a short while later filled a bottle with the green coloured liquid and handed it to me. “Give this to Sandy and be amazed!” he smiled I gave the bottle to Sandy who sniffed it and turned his nose up at it. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad!” I said and sniffed it myself before adding, “Wooh! I stand corrected” but Sandy was insistent. “Sandy” I said, “It’s either this or permanent retirement and if you retired then….then I would as well. You are my faithful steed and I simply would refuse to be a Musketeer without you at my side!” Sandy looked down and then at the bottle and slowly opened his mouth. “That’s the spirit” I said and poured the bottle into his mouth. He suddenly neighed and reared up as if in great pain. “SANDY!” I exclaimed and then roared at Alexi, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” “Wait and see” he chuckled As Sandy continued to neigh in agony I wanted to hug my faithful steed and wail “Sandy, I am so sorry. I should have believed Aramis” when Sandy started to paw the floor like a bull waiting to charge and then reared up again. “Get down” shouted Alexei and grabbing me threw me and himself to the floor and as we did I felt a wave of energy pass through me and what sounded like an explosion. I quickly got up and stared in disbelief. Where Sandy had been there now stood a massive shire horse at least thirty hands tall shaking its head and breathing hard. It looked around as if unsure of where it was and then realised something, held its head up high and neighed louder than I had ever heard a horse neigh before. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO SANDY?” I bellowed to Alexei “I’ve done nothing!” he said, “I have simply done what you asked me to do. I have regenerated Sandy!” I held my head in my hands and said slowly, “I asked you to make Sandy not have to retire, not destroy him in some kind of weird biological experiment and replace him with a shire horse!” “But I haven’t!” he said, “That’s Sandy!” and pointed to the horse who was now trotting around in a state of sheer joy. “Er, excuse me” I said, in a tone of voice similar to high school girls in California, “that is never Sandy in a million years” and went next to the shire horse. “For starters, I’ll never be able to mount him, his saddle is taller than me, then there is the small matter that Sandy was a medium sized horse and this is a monster, and thirdly, WHERE’S SANDY?” “There!” replied Alexei pointing to the horse. “LOOK!” I bellowed, trying my darnest to be polite and failing, “I want my horse back, the horse that my “father” gave me all those years ago, the horse that I rode from my home to Mearne, the horse that was insulted twice on that journey, the horse…” Suddenly, the Shire horse stopped trotting and tapped the floor three times with its hoof. “Sorry” I said, “the horse that was insulted three times on that journey, the horse…” and then I stopped. “Three times?” I asked softly and cast my mind back to that journey to Mearne and as I remembered a dawning realisation came to me. “I was insulted three times on the road to Mearne” and turned to the horse, “Sandy, is…is that you?” The shire lowered his head to me and gave me a big lick. “SANDY” I exclaimed and gasped in amazement at what Sandy now was. The biggest horse I had ever seen in my life. As I walked around him, I breathed “Wow, what would happen if a person drank that mixture?” “That’s a very good question” said Alexi, “fancy giving it a go?” “What?” I asked “Well, not that mixture exactly” he said, “that’s only really for animals, but I’ve got something bubbling upstairs that might just tickle your fancy” and with that opened a door and gestured me to follow. I was in two minds. Was this man a very early biologist who had stumbled on a way of regenerating old and tired material into young material or was, as Aramis had suggested, a wizard? Then he said something that sealed the deal. “Follow me” he said as he went upstairs, “and you will become stronger than Porthos himself!” “Oh yeah!” I said to myself, “that’ll do it!” and followed him up a narrow flight of steps and towards another room that he unlocked the door to. In the middle of it was a massive cauldron with a green gloop bubbling away. “Right” said Alexi, “first of all dip your sword in that cauldron”. I did as instructed and the gloop suddenly turned bright silver. “Excellent, that proves that you’re a good man” he said, adding, “This potion is only given to those who are pure of heart, brave and courageous” and with that he took a bowl and scooped some of the potion and handed it to be saying “Congratulations, Henri, you’re literally one in a million!” As I took the bowl I looked at it with caution, “and if I drink this I’ll become…?” and lowered my head to indicate Sandy. “Not quite” he said, “this is just the first stage but when all the stages are complete, you will become the most powerful man on Earth!” Well, when you are given that opportunity you don’t pass it up and so I downed the contents of the bowl in one and then pulled a face. “Urghhh! Garlic!” I grimaced. “Yes” Alexi replied, “perhaps there is a bit too much in there” and taking the bowl said, “Now, sheath your sword and we’ll go outside!” I stood next to Sandy who was still overjoyed with his new found strength and power and followed Alexi’s instructions to the letter. “Now, unsheathe your sword and hold it as high as you can. Excellent, now, how would you describe being a Musketeer?” It was a strange question but I explained everything that I had done. Travelling to England to return the diamond studs to the Queen, Capturing the Purple Peregrine, restoring the King to the throne. “All very impressive” Alexi said, “but could you condense that into a single phrase at all?” I thought for a moment and said “Well, I suppose you could say that we all do everything we do for the honour of France!” No sooner had I said that then I felt unable to move and heard a rumble. Looking up I could see storm clouds gathering and that meant only one thing, a thunderstorm, and here I was holding a metal object in the air. I could feel the positive ions surging away from me making me prime target for any lightning bolt. I tried to shout “Alexi, help me!” but I couldn’t open my mouth or do anything and sure enough, a second later I was hit by lighting. Now, conventional wisdom says that being struck by lighting is the most effective way of being killed and as someone who studies the weather, I know that whether ever I hear a rumble of thunder I instantly unplug the phone to ensure that no strikes can enter the house, however instead of screaming in agony, I felt empowered. It was impossible to describe what was happening to me, but I felt big, strong and powerful and I was started to get the impression that I was growing not only in bravery, but stature as well. Just as quickly as it started, the surge ended and I roared “I HAVE THE HONOUR” before coming to and gasping for breath saying “Whoa, what was that?” “That” chuckled Alexi “was the power of the elements combining with that potion to create the Ultimate Musketeer” and went back to the cave entrance and brought back a full length mirror that he placed in front of me and said “What do you think?” As I stared at the reflection in disbelief, I was lost for words. Where once stood a slightly overweight community councillor from Wales dressed in a Musketeer’s outfit now stood a person who resembled any number of strongmen, power lifters and bodybuilders as to make one wonder if he had just come straight back from a contest. I was still wearing my Musketeer boots but the rest of me beggared belief. My legs, if you could call them that, looked more like tree trunks now and were topped off with something that resembled a pair of hot pants made out of the same material as my boots. Above that was what I first mistook to be a cobbled path and thinking “Okay, why have I got stones in my stomach?” but as I rubbed them I realised what they were and looked at Alexi with a combination of astonishment and delight. “ABS!” I cried, “I’ve got a pack!” And what a pack! Most fitness models I had seen online were boasting about their six pack, some bodybuilders had through years of training had an eight pack, but they had nothing on me as I counted ten distinct muscles all crammed into the tiny space between my waist and my chest and that’s when I noticed it. My chest wasn’t a chest, it was a monster of a chest and was being kept in place, but only just I thought, by a massive breastplate made of the same leather as my boots with the symbol of French authority emblazoned in the middle. A fleur de lys. And as for my arms, it was pretty obvious who would be asked to open those pesky lids that refused to come off jam bottles. “Oh, Alexi!” I said, on the verge of tears, “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you” and ran over to him and picked him up with ease, “I have dreamed about being as strong as Porthos for years and you have made it all come true. How can I ever repay you?” “You can start!” he gasped, “by not hugging me!” Realising that because I was so darned massive, my strength not only overwhelmed that of the Titan who was my best friend but probably even Hercules, I suddenly stopped and lowered Alexi to the ground and started to pace. “Is something wrong?” he asked “Alexi” I began, “I cannot thank you enough for what you have done, but if I go back to Musketeer Headquarters looking like this, what will become of Porthos? He’s my best friend and if he sees me like this, he’ll probably think that his strength isn’t needed any more, resign from the Musketeers and I will have lost a friend. Can you suggest anything?” Alexi smiled, “The Ultimate Musketeer is just that, the ultimate, and only to be used in dire emergencies” and with that pointed to my sword which appeared to be glowing. Gesturing me to point my sword at a rock he told me to say what I had said and as I repeated “I have the honour” a beam of energy shot from the sword and destroyed the rock into a thousand pieces. “Every time you become the Ultimate Musketeer” he said, “there is a small amount left over. That energy can be used as a weapon or can be used to turn another person into a smaller version of you. I cannot think of a better person to receive that energy than the Living Titan can you?” I smiled and imagined me and Porthos wrestling each other in our ultimate forms and then realised, “That means I cannot tell everyone who I am can I?” “They said that you were clever and they were right” replied Alexi, “You can only tell three people about this gift I have given you besides me. Sandy doesn’t count as he can’t talk, so Porthos would be number one, which means you can tell two other people. Remember though, whoever you tell must swear to secrecy never to reveal your gift so choose carefully” “I will” I said. “Marvellous” said Alexi and gestured for me to raise my sword again, “now time for the Ultimate Musketeer to prepare for his next adventure. Simply say “Thy honour is preserved” and you’ll go back to your usual English reserved self” and with that he chuckled. As I did the whole process reversed and as I stood there gasping from the effort I sheathed my sword and smiled. “Remember” said Alexei, as Sandy helped me to mount him, “Only tell three people about your new powers” and with that I bowed and said “Alexei, I have made many friends during my time as a Musketeer, I would consider it an honour if I could count you amongst them!” Alexei bowed and said “And I would be delighted to accept your friendship” and with that snapped his fingers and he simply vanished into thin air, leaving me and Sandy both mystified. Was he an alchemist, a vanguard of modern science or was Aramis right the whole time? Please be honest in your comments and if you feel it needs a little bit more (remembering that this is aimed at a family audience) then please do say so

Have you read THE COMPOUND?....you will find into old archive page 179...it's aa amazing story, but never have a ending or a continue...only 2 cap......any one like to continue? PART 1 http://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/20646-p1.html PART 2 http://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/20665-p1.html

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

Welcome to The Muscle Finalist Bio page! Here you can read up on each of our contestants and choose who YOU want to see become the first winner of The Muscle! ============================================================================================= Contestant 1: Adam Age: 19 Weight: 180 Occupation: Student Lifting for: 4 years Personal statement: Hey all. My name's Adam and I am hoping to be chosen as the winner of The Muscle! I've been lifting for a little over 4 years now and it's nearly become my whole life! I'm a student but I'm barely passing most of my classes as I spend all my time either lifting, eating, sleeping or thinking about getting bigger! I want to become the top name in bodybuilding so this seems like the best way to do it! I've only recently gotten into muscle worship from others as I spent most of my "free" time worshiping myself! It was an amazing experience the first time though and I've been hungry for it even more! Hope you guys choose me each week and I promise that I will do my best to prove why I should be The Muscle! Erotic Story: Um... well it's a bit embarrassing but one of the hottest things for me was after working out at the campus gym another guy who was built almost as much as I was came into the shower after me and basically attacked me... not physically, but sexually. Came right in and started feeling me up and stroking my cock. Started telling me how hot I was and how much he had been wanting to do this for weeks now and finally got the courage to do so. Well he had courage alright, liquid courage... between the strong smell and his quick work to my cock, I felt a little drunk myself! He started asking me to flex for him and show him how big I was. I was already horned up from my workout and this wasn't the first time I'd been worshiped by a guy so I figured, why not? I started by flexing my arm for him and he attacked it like a ravenous wolf! Licking and kissing it, moaning all the while he was stroking my cock. After a couple pumps I pulled him up to my face where he started gabbing about how hot I was, how he couldn't wait to see me even bigger. Well nothing gets me harder or more turned on than the idea of growth so I started giving it back to him. "Oh yeah?" I said "You want me to get even bigger than this? That's a 19 inch arm you were sucking on... bigger than most guys get and you want to see it even BIGGER!?" He was moaning even harder now and nodding his head telling me he wanted to see it bigger than his head. "Well let's compare shall we?" I said. "Let's see just how much your head compares to this gun of mine." And I slammed his face back into it. Pumping my bi into his mouth forcing him to open it as wide as he could. "Yeah... lick that huge gun. Bet you'll be even hungrier when it pumps up to 20" I flexed hard into his face before relaxing it "then 21" another pump "then 22! GRRRR!" I was fucking rock hard now and couldn't control myself. He started to thrash a bit but I didn't really notice as I was too turned on now. I pulled my arm back, turned him around, slammed him into the tile and started fucking him. Was really stupid as I didn't have a condom but I was possessed. I grabbed his hands and pinned them to the wall above his head and just impaled him in the first thrust. He was really moaning now and yelling too as I mercilessly fucked him pinning him to the wall. "Yeah this is what you wanted right? Being fucked by this big teen muscle stud? Feel my thick pecs against your back pressing you into the wall. Can't wait for them to get even bigger... want them so huge I can't see my feet over them... yeah fucking massive teen beast..." Over and over it went. No idea how long it was but I couldn't hold on much after that and rammed into him so hard I lifted him off the floor for the first blast of my cum into him. After he came back down I backed up a step and wrapped my arms around him and was bear hugging him while I shot into him. Each shot made me squeeze his torso into mine until I was finally spend and pulled out of him. When I could finally think straight again, I looked down to see that there was quite a bit of blood. At first I thought he was just a virgin, but then I saw his mouth was bleeding. Then I realized that I had broken one of his teeth while I was flexing my arm in his mouth. He was out of it and passed out so I left. Found out later that he was woken up by the janitor and taken to the campus nurse. He had to get a false tooth in the next couple days and seemed a bit weary of me after that, but I could tell that he was still really turned on by me. He never approached me after that but I could tell that if he ever got really drunk again, he'd come find me for an encore performance.