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Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1556-my-dad-is-a-big-boy-re-post/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1569-my-dads-boy-is-a-man/ Part 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1595-my-dad-is-a-secret-holder/ Part 5: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1596-my-dad-is-a-cum-fountain/ Part 6: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1606-my-dad-is-a-room-wrecker/ Part 2 The family jet was really comfortable for me. I was amazed by the silk purple carpet, the open mini bar, and even the 5 star cuisine inside that I was allowed to enjoy. Dad was a very rugged man, preferring the most simplistic things in life. When I was younger, my big dad preferred to have a simple and peaceful home for his sons. We never had money troubles thanks to my dad's deal with the scientific community but Jeff and I never asked for much. My graduation from high school was one of the very few times my dad came dressed in a full suit, tailored to fit his 8 foot tall body and 900+ pounds of stone hard muscle. For dad to have bought a personal jet topped with all of these extravagant accessories, he must have been rolling in money (which meant a pretty big pool of money for such a big man). As I left the jet, the sun shined down on all 6 feet and 3 inches of my body. By no standard did I grow up a small man in the eyes of my peers. A star linebacker in my college football team, I was best known as 'The Lawnmower' from having mowed down the enemy team with all 230 pounds of me. Of course, it was hard to look big when your dad was a walking phenomenon. I remember receiving my award in high school football as the best player. People looked up to me as an idol and role model for their kids as I took my reward and raised it like a trophy in the name of my high school career. That was, until my dad stood to clap for me. My dad had been sitting in the back of the room, watching with pride from the back as I received my award, but he couldn't hide himself any longer as he stood above all the other parents and students, his big hands clapping up thunderstorms with their loud collisions. After that, he became the talk of the school. "Did you see Johm's dad?" someone would ask. "Yeah, that dude is HUGE!" someone would answer with enthusiasm. It got kind of irritating after a while till I graduated and left for a big university all the way on the other side of the country. A limo came to pick me up from the airport. I hadn't heard from my brother or dad in 3 years so I'd assumed that they'd come and see me at the airport. I could understand why dad was coming, since he'd basically be the equivalent of a celebrity in a book store, but why didn't Jeff come to get me atleast? I decided that I'd ignore questions like these with a quick drink from the mini bar inside the limo. Whatever my dad had bought, he must have been determined to give his 21 year old kid a good time. Jeff had sent me a message saying that Dad had also bought a new house to go with his new paycheck, far into the outskirts of our hometown. I felt a lot of childhood memories flooding back as we cruised through the town. Kids were playing in the parks and sidewalks and the people as a whole seemed to be in a peaceful state. I smiled a bit as I felt the safety of being home again, stopping the shot glass of expensive wine an inch from my lips for a moment. That didn't stop me from drinking the shot, of course. Just as we reached the last hill before we reached our destination, a text came from my little brother. 'How's the view?' the text asked me as he went over the hill. I looked over the front seat and my eyes bulged out of my head. A massive mansion the size of a mall stood in the center of an enormous collection of gardens, mazes, and well shaped statues of greek gods. The building was like the 8th wonder of the world. How could dad possibly afford all of this, I wondered as the driver curved around a large fountain in front of the house, coming to a halt at the entrance. The entrance to the large mansion was two extremely tall wooden doors that looked like a man on 10 foot stills could walk through with no trouble." Your luggage be put in your room for you shortly, sir" said the driver as I got out. " Thanks, man" I said, not accustomed to hearing someone call me sir. I reluctantly walked up to the wooden doors, seconds from knocking, when I felt something move beneath my feet. My brow furrowed as I thought I'd imagined it and kept moving forward. A little button was placed in the wall beside the door to work as a doorbell. A loud chime rang as I pressed it, a sing song like ring echoing around me. At first, there was no response at all. Then there was the sound of a door slamming open and a running along marble floor before a momentary silence. Slowly, the door opened and my I swore my jaw dropped at what I saw. My view was level with an enormous chest wearing the tightest white wife beater. Hair escaped the confines of the stretching shirt, thick black hair covering the enormous chest. My eyes slowly moved up to see the face of an enormous man that appeared to own these huge pecs. My throat was dry as I recognized the face. "Dad?" I asked as I looked past the thick black beard and big, handsome face of the giant in front of me. I harty laugh came from the large man as he heard my response, shaking me to the core. " Are you ok, Johny?" he said with a deep and powerful voice. " It's me, Jeff." he said as he put familiarly shaped glasses on his face. The strangest thing happened to me in that moment. I'd always been straight as an arrow but the sight before me was testing the balance. I quickly pulled myself together as I tried to distract the new man my brother had become. " Jeff?" I said, trying to say something. Jeff had never been a very small child but he'd never been so massive. Jeff was a soon to be doctor with reccomendations from the most prostigious schools in the world and was billingual in many languages but he still had been keeping a good and firm body since before I left for college, standing at 6'1 and sitting at 194 pounds of soaking wet, lean muscle. The man before me was much bigger and much better looking as he owned a strong chin, full lips, a rugged jaw line, and even the best looking brow. He must have been been over 7 feet tall and wide enough to fill musch of my vision with his mass. " You never answered my text, J; How's the view?" he said, aiming his amazingly blue eyes into mine, almost touching my soul. Only one thing came to my mind at this question. " Massive...." Jeff smiled as he moved his massive shape out of the way and moved his arm into the house. "Good to hear. You coming inside?" he asked. He had no idea how close he'd found me out as I walked with a bit of an awkward motion before moving regularly. He didn't seem to notice, thank god. The inside of the house was as big as the outside. Paintings of obvious quality covered the walls and were lighted by the skylight above. Expensive tables and chairs were placed around the room. A silky red carpet covered the path from the front door to the stairs leading up to the upper rooms and well designed, tall archways led to more rooms along the 1st floor. I was beside myself at all there was in this one building. Everything, including Jeff, was enormous in this building." I know its a lot to take in but Dad hopes you'll still feel at home here with your family" Jeff said, throwing a heavy arm around me neck and pulling me into a one armed hug, pressing me into his enormous, hairy pit as he looked upon the view. I shook a bit at the scent of his manly scent, the strange thing that happened at the door happening again in my pants. I was shaky at the knees but the enormous arm was holding my body in my place as though I weighed nothing. " Well let's go get you to your room, big guy" he said as he loosened his arm around me but still laid it over my shoulders, pulling me forward and up the stairs to the second floor, forcing me to move a little more quickly to keep up with the long strides of his long, muscular legs that were testing the restraint of his jeans as much as an ungodly, round mass pushed outward between them. I couldn't keep my eyes off of it. When we turned the corner to the long hallways of the 2nd floor, my cock stirred at what laid before me. The rooms were clearly inhabited by some kind of large beast as different parts of clothing were along the hallway. Torn shirts and underwear were thrown across the floor. A strong, masculine odor came from the hallway that was almost more than I could take, the red carpeting matching some of the red shirts or red boxers and briefs. Many of the articles of clothing were very large, clearly made to try and contain a large man but couldn't do the job. " Shit! Sorry, J, I was supposed to clean up the room before you got here but I couldn't finish in time." he said, scratching the back of his head in frustration. An enormous, veined bicep formed from the action, the enormous trap of my enormous brother testing the confines of the wifebeater. "It's alright, you know I'm a slob, too" I said in confort, trying to pull my eyes from the big bicep in my brother's arm but failing miserably. He smiled down at me with the whitest smile I'd ever seen and I nearly melted where I stood. "Thanks, bro!" he said as he grabbed be and took me with him to the end of the hallway. The door at the end of the hallway appeared to lead to a different kind of room than the rest. A modest drawer and wall lamp were placed beside the door as if to emphasize that someone else was supposed to be in the room. " Dad said he didn't want to overwhelm you with everything at once so he decided to set a small room for you" he said, opening the door and crouching to get into the room. I followed and I was granted the sight of the perfect room. An enormous bed stood at the opposite side of the room, meters away. An opened door led to an enormous bathroom made with what looked like porcelain and marble. The room I stood in looked like its own living room as a sofa was placed in front of a wide screen tv inside the wall. A large, silver fridge stood to the side of the bed and a fire place across from that lay quiet. No words came from my mouth. A window looking out to the front of the house lit the room and the table sitting below it. " I hope its alright. We tried to find bigger furniture but there was no way they could fit it into one room" Jeff said, his voice falling down to my ears to be heard. I shook my head without looking away from the furniture. " It's perfect. Really" I said sincerely as I walked in and fed my eyes with the amazing decoration. Jeff towered by the front door of the room, his enormous chest level with the top of the opening. " Pop said he wanted to see you once you got settled in" he saidm using his personal nickname for dad as he turned to the door and bent down to exit. I went out with him a bit more quickly than I wanted to reveal. " I'm settled" I said quickly, following my large brother down to the hall. " Wow, you miss him that much huh?" he said as we turned the corner and entered the garden in the back of the house. The gravel road crunched under my brother's massive weight like it was bubble wrap, leaving faint footsteps in it. As we entered the forest in the back of the house, I felt my feet tickle a bit as we passed the closely standing trees. " Where's Dad?" I asked as I tripped over a branch but kept going along the path. The tickling at my feet had gotten stronger as we seemed to close in on a destination. Jeff smiled a little at the mention of dad's location. " Oh, he's busy working in the junk yard" he said as the forest began to clear. Why would dad be at a junk yard this far from the house, I wondered. The light of the clearing in front of us blinded me for a moment before I saw the 'junk yard' laid before me. Broken cars and types of weights were placed in very tall piles, shaking as the quakes beneath our feet became stronger. I nervously walked toward the yard with my brother and had to grab his enormous forearm to continue standing. The close we came to the yard, the more I realized how big the weights and cars were. Clearly, they were made for giants as I saw weights that would normally be a single ton for powerlifters were piled upon each other in different sizes from 10 to 100 tons per weight. What kind of man could have use for such weight, I wondered as I clung tightly to my brother. " Dad didn't want to damage the mansion so he brought the yard all the way over here" Jeff said knowingly, smiling at the desperate grasp of his 'big' brother. When we turned the final corner, I was beside myself as I smell the most powerful smell I'd ever experienced enter my nose, slowly going stronger. At first, it smelled like a gym full of jocks working out but then, as we came closer, it started to become less like jock musk and more like pure testosterone. My cock jumped and then laid firm against my waistband as the smell entered my system. From where we stood, I could see a tall pile of what looked like train cars piled on top of each other, moving up and down like a machine was lifting them. I could feel my body getting pulled in by the power of the smell in the air, making me keep up with my large brother. When we passed the corner, I felt my heart beat out of place. A behemoth of enormous proportion lay beneath the tall pile of train cars that looked like a pile of muscle and hair, bench pressing it quickly up and down. "Pop, he's home" Jeff called to the pile. A large head of dark hair turned and looked right at me, a burly beard covering the face of perhaps the most handsome man one could lay eyes on. " SQUIRT!" came a thunder-filled voice as the behemoth sat up and set the tall pile of train cars aside as if they weren't 20 train cars topping each other. The giant was only sitting up and he appeared to have rival height to me standing up. But he clearly wanted a better advantage as he stood and rocketed up and up and up into the air. My blue eyes were wide but that didn't take away any of my body's energy to fire a huge load onto my stomach beneath my shirt. I nearly fell before a quick collection of shaking moved the earth before an enormous hand covered my bicep like a thick sleeve. " You ok, Squirt?" a loud voice called down to me as I pulled myself up. I looked from two enormous boot covered feet up to two enormous calves that riveled my waist in size. I went up higher and caught two enormous thighs that tested a pair of tight white shorts that didn't even make it half way down the enormous hairy legs. My mouth went dry as an enormous bulge bulged between the two monoliths like an extra large medicine ball. I pulled my vision higher as the giant stood to full high, the bulge only 6 inches from my face and filling my thoughts with its power. An 8 pack that looked harder than diamond stood above the bulge like a cobblestone path and went up to the giant's chest. My eyes were glued to the enormous chest above that as the giant's chest breathed in and out, filling the ceiling of my vision and helping the torso define the definition of the phrase 'barrel chested'. Two enormous arms stood out from the pillar of a body and bulged along with it, an obvious pump pushing through the tight white tanktop that didn't reach the bottom set of the giant's abs. A large remotely human head with a pretty face looked down on me with the most beautiful eyes and hottest facial structure I'd ever seen, making my body sweat and overheat from just the presence of it. " Did you miss your dear ol' dad, sport?" the giant roared down to me with his deep voice. I almost wasn't able to speak to the giant but one word did escape my dry throat. "D...dad?!" I asked before getting shaky in the knees and falling to the ground, my shirt soaking through with a growing wet stain.

Pleasure Growth 8 by F_R_Eaky Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1116-pleasure-growth/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1117-pleasure-growth-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1118-pleasure-growth-part-3/ Part 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1256-pleasure-growth-part-4/ Part 5: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1257-pleasure-growth-part-5/ Part 6: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1389-pleasure-growth-6/ Part 7: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1489-pleasure-growth-part-7/ "What do you mean we may be discovered?" "He's actually a lost young man, named Aaron. He ran away after one of his growth spurts, got hit by a circus train and has amnesia from that accident. Titus is what he was going by while working at the circus, trying to remember who he was. Not only is his whole family looking out for him, but the circus strongman is on the loose and rampage out looking for him, too." "They will not find him in the cavern." "Do you see what we're talking next to?!? We're standing next to his feet! The cavern is just under sixty feet in length. His feet are sticking nine feet out of the entrance. His whole body fills the cavern. If we do another ceremony and make him grow again, he won't fit in the cave at all! And even if he did, his penis is tall enough that it sticks out the hole when erect. Someone, is going to see him soon." Aaron was listening to the two men arguing at the front of the cavern. He was still a little groggy, but had felt better than he had in quite a while. He recognized one of the voices as the leader of the little clan of two-spirit people who were using him as a rite of passage or membership to their group. They had caused him to grow at least twice since he'd been here. "....He's at least sixty-nine feet tall now." "We have the herbs and medicines, they will keep him sedated." "Well, that's the other thing. I'm not sure they will, or we can. Each time he grew it meant not only more size height wise, but he's gained in muscle mass, more weight. I don't think we have enough of the herb to make a strong enough batch to keep him sedated." That's why he was feeling better. He's been drugged all this time and his body was now too big for the dosage they were feeding him. He was getting used to it, it was too small, so now he was waking up. "What more could he ask for? He's got us to worship him, and grope him, stroke him off. What man wouldn't like that? Brew the biggest batch you can. We'll sedate him, and then send parties out to gather as much of the herb as we can." "What more could I ask for?", thought Aaron. "WHAT MORE COULD I ASK FOR!?! I could as for my freedom, thank you very much!" Aaron's mind began to crowd with images of him and his older brothers playing basketball and other games during the summer. He was late bloomer that hadn't bloomed until he got the shot, laced with the uber formula created by that wacko. But that meant growing up he was always so much smaller than his older brothers, and instead of playing ball, they played keep away with him being it all the time. But then Aaron's brothers were replaced by the men here in the cave. All of them rubbing on him, taunting him, how they could keep him here, how although they were serving him, was he was serving them? "Oh, hell to the no!", he thought. "They want size....I can give them size." Aaron began to oh so lightly buck his hips and positioned a hand up and onto his very ample and large cock. "oooh yeah...come on!..." Aaron's cock began to stir, began to lengthen, thicken, and grow.... "Hmmmmmmm fuck yeah!" It grew and swelled reaching a semi-flaccid state... and then the feeling began to come over Aaron. He wasn't sure how long it had been since the last time he blew a load and grew, but he was hoping he could grow this time. He'd grow, grow so big he'd burst out of this cavern, so big the remaining sedative in him wouldn't be able to work it was now too small a batch. His body grew up and up and up first, his feet starting to move further out of the cavern, while his head and shoulders pushed against the back wall. The two men talking in front stopped when they heard some scrapping sounds, and finally realized it was Aaron's feet; they were growing larger and scooting across the ground. "He's awake! And making himself horny to grow, we've got to stop him before it really kicks in!" Making a run for the back of the cavern. the two men halted suddenly when Aaron spread his legs apart as quickly as he could and blocked the men's entry They both rain into the sides of Aaron's ankles, which were firmly pressed against the cavern mouth sides, and slowly but surely growing out and away from them. Dazed and confused after bouncing off of Aaron's ankles, the two men lay on the ground and watch the sight unfold. Aaron kept rubbing his cock and thinking about how much bigger than his brothers he was, how much bigger than his captors he was, and that he was about to become even bigger and stronger, more hung and virile. "Oooooh yeaaaaaaah!" Despite the fact of his arms being pinned and wedged into the cavern too narrow for his body and torso, Aaron was able to get in some nice strokes on his cock with his long and thick fingers. Finally, his prick rose up high enough, almost fully erect, that it was touching the hole in the ceiling and the slick fur pelts that covered it. He let those furs kiss his piss slit and head and as that caused him to get fully erect, he began to thrust and buck his hips pushing the cock through the hole. "AAuuuuugh FUCK! Yes that feels....so....." But Aaron cut himself off, the sensation hitting him again so hard. His body grew and swelled in every direction, in height, in muscle mass, in ball and cock size. His head, neck, and shoulders grew first pushing into the back wall of the cavern. It hurt his head at first, feeling like his head might get crushed in, but soon Aaron could feel his head and shoulders were making dents into the rock wall. His shoulders, back, delts, bunched and rolled, mounded and grew, wider and wider pushing into the back side walls of the cave, and although it felt as though he was receiving cuts, the side walls also soon gave way to the burgeoning, mounding, titanium dense muscle fiber that was building and building up on Aaron's body. His chest was inflating, rolling out in thickness and width, barreling out more and more, further and wider, looking almost like a roll of asphalt being laid down upon a road. It just kept going and spreading! It developed into two huge gigantic globes of granite. The upper arms were next, bunching, balling, peaking, rising up and out, swelling higher and thicker. The biceps were growing into mountains of their own right, so tall, to thick, so peaked and full. With the chest along side them, they began to rise up and push on the ceiling of the cavern. Meanwhile the gigantic horseshoe shape of the triceps was flexing and popping with just as much size, pushing down into the cavern floor, helping to rise Aaron off the ground, and indeed, dent and crumble to dust some of the cave's foundation. His thighs ballooned next, all the individual tear drop shapes expanding and increasing like balloons being filled with water. So much mass, the slightest movement and they wiggled and wobbled, their density shimming back and forth. Their diamond like cuts cut and rose into the cavern ceiling as their partner the biceps femoris, or the back of the thigh, along with the other back leg muscles grew and swelled pushing hard into the ground. Aaron had thought that he'd feel the calves getting caught, filling up the cavern entrance, but he was growing up as much as he was filling out. The cave entrance was meeting him at the bottom of his thighs. If he had been wearing shorts, his thighs would be splitting, ripping, and blowing the hem apart right now, but he wasn't wearing shorts, he was wearing the cavern, and his thighs were doing an excellent job of splitting, ripping, and blowing apart the cavern mouth. His calves having grown out with his legs, we free to bunch and hunch, pop and swell, on their own, growing large enough to almost push against one another and fight for room. The two men of the two-spirit clan, who were knocked down by Aaron's ankles, we pushed and tumbled round by the growing legs, to get over come by the giant sized calves. The massive giant heart shape, becoming engorged with blood, swelling thicker, denser, harder, with each pump, pushing the men further and farther away from the entrance. Thick veins running all over the place, fueling this growth. The two men remember when Aaron first collapsed in this cavern, how they just barely stood taller than the bottom of his calve, and now a single calve of Aaron's stood nearly two - three times their height by itself. Aarons cock and balls finished the growth. The testicles and scrotum being pushed up into the ceiling by the thighs, as they continued to swell, and inflate, as if they had an air horse with thousands of pounds of pressure hooked up to them. Aaron moaned and cried as each second he grew bigger, his balls grew bigger, the cavern stayed the same size, and the racking of his junk was becoming incredible. His cock grew long and hard, and up through the cavern ceiling hole. He tries to buck harder and harder to finish his growth, but it was becoming hard to do. His last growth spurt had made it so his cock was fairly even in position with the hole, but now, he had grown so big, although he got his head and his growing shaft through the hole, his groin region and therefore the base of his prick, had grown up closer to the entrance, a bit away from under the hole. But it didn't matter, Aaron had made it in, and he was trying to buck as much as he could to pleasure himself. But with his body growing, and his bucking, he had become too large, to dense, and too strong for the cavern. The sounds of chipping, breaking, falling rock were being heard everywhere from entrance to cavern end, outside to inside. To the men outside it sounded like a rock slide, and felt like an earthquake. Chucks of the cavern walls began to explode apart and blast outward. The two men had to make a run for it so as not to be crushed by boulders sailing through the air. The ceiling had started to give way and it fissured and cracked all around the hole, until the hole slide down, like a ring around Aaron's massive python of a cock. It landed at the base and stayed there, causing huge amounts of blood to go into but not out of the monstrous schlong, causing an increase in the growth of Aaron's massive member. But now, Aaron's arms and thus hands were free to finish the job by stroking away. And stroke he did, grunting, moaning, screaming, while his voice developed slightly deeper, his body continued to grow out further, his limbs growing out longer, his balls getting bigger churning up more and more testosterone and cum. "WUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" One last swell of gigantic growth and Aaron blew his load. Rising high into the air, the gargantuan glob of goo splattered several hundred feet away and up on the side of a mesa, making it look more like a snow covered mountain peak. Lingering trails of the shot strung from mesa to Aaron, hit the ground forming what looked like might, white capped rivers of rapids. Suddenly all the geological debris began to move, slide, roll, every which way, as Aaron began to pick himself up and stand. And stand he did, up and up, taller, and taller, with back, shoulders, chest, lat, so broad and thick he threatened to make the surrounding mesas look small in comparison. Rock, dust, and dirt, cascaded off him revealing a young man with the body of an amateur bodybuilder, fully pumped from a huge workout, his forearms, legs, some parts of his chest, and a small portion of his abs, looked a little dirtier as hair had begun to grow in thicker there and catch and hold more of the dirt than just his smooth skin. Aaron, gave one last shudder, and thrust of his cock, causing that prick to swell slightly once more, and shatter the natural cock ring that had formed, exploding it off his body. His chest heaving, Aaron tried to look around after all the dust settled from the collapsed cavern, but found he needed to bend at the waist and look over and down due to the expansion and size of his chest. It took him a while to find what he was looking for, the two men he knew to be at the mouth of the cave when he woke up and began this jack off session. Bugs... they looked like bugs to him, not even able to come up to his ankles when both he and they were standing flat footed. Something was still coursing through Aaron, however. It wasn't his memory, it wasn't the sensation of growth, it was a feeling....a feeling of sheer power. The flash backs of his brother taunting him during basketball, mixed with the feelings of his captors holding him prisoner here, and now... now he knew no one would hold him prisoner, no one could taunt him for being small and weak, and he knew... ... ... somehow, he knew... the power was still building up inside of him, ready to be unleashed again, and yet again, and again. "ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOAR!" Aaron screamed and stomped his foot causing the earth to shake. "How do you like your god now!?!" Aaron gave a most muscular and growled heavily. The two men, now frightened beyond belief, came and pissed their pants at the same time. Looking down at the reaction these ant sized men had over him, Aaron's cock sprung to life instantly, sent a shiver down the shaft, through the balls, and back up Aaron's spine. Grabbing his cock, he pointed it downward and blew once again. The two men, tried to run, but massive glob of spunk was two large. They were stuck as if hit by a tidal wave, carried on the tide of it by fifty feet or so. Almost drowned the men staggered to get to their feet, sliding and slipping on the muddy ground soaked with cum. "RAAAAAAAAAAUGH! I AM TITUS! Your god is thirsty and needs a bath, where is the closest river?" The two men tried to scream and point which Aaron could scarcely see nor hear, but finally they crawled to a dry spot and with their bodies formed the shape of an arrow pointing the direction of where a river was located. Aaron smiled and casually walked off, his footsteps sounding like bombs going off and sending lab equipment into frenzied fits of data recording a geological labs around the United States and Mexico.

Well, it's safe to say I'm using a lot of new things in this story. Never used the italic button so much in a story. Also, have never had someone grow at this speed. Thought I'd make enough parts today to reach a real growth spurt before I take a breather. Nick is starting to be a really interesting factor for me as I normally don't have someone with so much influence hanging around in a story (not to mention such a strong personality). Don't be afraid to correct me on him as this is my first time actually attempting a character like him. Comments and feedback please. Belly Down Part 3 The competition was going rather smoothly as the team arrived at their college gym. Kenny sat at the end of his own team's line of chairs as he sat and watched those of the class below fight it out on the mat. Isaiah was doing well to keep himself on his toes, almost being pinned down but squirming out with some quick readjustment. All the team knew that, if Isaiah wanted, he could be the perfect professional wrestler if he truly wanted to build himself big enough. Problem was Isaiah loved being the smallest and yet he was so good at what he did. In almost 10 seconds flat, he had the other guy on the floor and pinned, his skinny frame failing under the pure beef on Isaiah's arms and legs. Tapping out, the other guy walked off defeated and Isaiah came towards our side with an intense look. “What's wrong?” Kenny asked him. “It took me too long to get him. I need to work harder.” Isaiah sat down with a stern expression on his face. Kenny couldn't see Isaiah loved wrestling far more than he realized. Then again, Kenny wasnt aware of how much he loved wrestling deep down either. Someone else in his head knew, though. “Calling the next weight class!” came the voice of the intercom. Kenny felt his body pump with adrenaline as he felt his fears come alive. Casey arrived in time to wrap his hands around Kenny's thin shoulders and then his head gear. “You got it, Kenny. Put it all on the mat” he said own to him, his eyes focused on only Kenny. Kenny felt himself squirm in Casey's grasp before shaking himself out of it. He couldn't afford to grow a boner in the fabric of his tight singlet. Speaking of which, it was suddenly starting to chaff as he escaped his friend's grasp. “Right.” he said. Kenny saw the other guy he was up against and felt like he was going to cry. He was 142 pounds of lean muscle. Veins were running down his arms like spider webs. His muscles werent big but they were definitely below 5% body fat. Kenny was practically wetting himself before the referee even blew the whistle. Circling in the same direction as his opponent, Kenny ran scared when he threw a hand out and nearly got him by the neck. Kenny felt every thought of fear crossed his mind. I can't do this, he thought. I can't defeat a guy who's that strong looking. Kenny was proven to be up against someone strong, not just strong looking, as he was grabbed and slowly pulled into the opponent's grasp. He's too strong. I can't do it. I'm not big enough. I'm not strong enough. I can't win. Before long, Kenny was pinned on the ground in a rough grab and losing air faster than a balloon with a hole. That's one more loss on the chalk bored. Great job, Kenny. Not like you'd win against a lean ball of muscle like this when you got to this class with nothing but fat. Kenny was about to tap out when he heard Nick's voice. And that's where you're wrong. How could I make you any stronger with fat? At that, Kenny felt burning that he thought was the air leaving his brain. I'm not strong enough for this, I can't be. And you're wrong again. See how this works? Assumptions, assumptions. All you have to do is want to more. You want more strength, take it! You want more size, take it. I'm supposed to be in this box you call a head. How about you do yourself a favor and think outside of it. Kenny heard the words ring in his head. Time seemed to slow as he came to a realization. I fucking want to win. Oh really? Then win. Stop making fucking excuses. At that, Kenny felt his body tense. The guy wrapped around him, pinning in down, was glad to have gotten such an easy target to go up against. He'd lost the last match and couldn't afford to let himself get down in the dumps because of some loss. When he saw Kenny, he knew he'd win. There was nothing stopping him from taking a free win. Nothing except he could feel something wrong in his hold. He struggled hard to hold himself in place but he knew something was wrong. The guy he was holding was really fighting his grip now. His arms were tensed as he fought with the little guy's grip on his tensed arm. His arm was tightly fastened around Kenny's neck but, little by little, he was losing the fight and Kenny's face was becoming a lot less red and sweaty as he slowly pulled off his arm. Kenny had a wicked smile as he pulled with more and more strength on the guy he was up against. Everything was burning and..... it all felt so good. With a quick roll, Kenny was back on his feet again. Kenny didn't know what came over him but he felt every muscle tighten in his body, including his 2 inch cock in his singlet, the short stub suddenly chubbing to its hard 4 inches. Of course, as the two circled around each other, the opponent Kenny was up against felt his eyes hurt as the atmosphere around the boy he was up against got wavy and hard to see. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought the guy was a little bigger than he remembered. Also, he looked down and saw that his cock was hard and starting to go down his leg. He was used to seeing it as, in the heat of wrestling, its average for the blood to pump a bunch and cause a spontaneous boner. What he wasn't used to seeing was watching it grow hard to a measly 4 inches and then seem to slowly lengthen. The guy thought he was seeing things at first but, as he continued, he was sure. This kid wasn't in his weight class anymore. Before he knew, Kenny had made a grab for and, though he fought, the opponent was on his back and struggling against a wave of new strength he didnt expect from a previously little guy. The opposing teams and their coaches were cheering as Kenny turned the tables unexpectedly. He struggled but he could hear what sounded like a grumble as the kid held his grip over him and locked him. He was trapped like a bird in an iron cage. Reluctantly, the opponent tapped his hand against the mat with his free arm. He held his head in shame as he returned to his team with another defeat. He couldn't figure out what happened but he remembered the last thing he saw. That red headed little guy who suddenly wasnt so little...... with red eyes. Kenny returned to his team and looked across their shocked faces. Even Hans's big mug was gaping open at the sight of Kenny and his win. Casey had a big arm on Kenny's shoulders and a big, shit eating grin on his face. “Fuck yeah! Told you you'd kill it!” he said as he threw his other arm tightly around Kenny and pulled him in for a big hug. Kenny felt himself melt in Casey's grasp as he felt the big muscles wrap around him and give a new kind of warmth to his cold, sweaty body. Kenny pulled on a weak smile as he felt the on his face. “ You know we're going to fucking celebrate, right?” Casey said as he released Kenny. He stealthily looked down and smiled as he caught sight of his roommate's crotch and smiled. Kenny's cock was hard and very noticeable at its 6 inches. Casey quickly looked back int Kenny's eyes. He knew Kenny wasn't ready to admit he liked Casey. That was fine for him though Kenny didn't know it. Kenny himself couldn't figure out what was up with himself. He felt the new power coursing through his body and deeply felt happy about it and yet he knew where the source was. As long as I'm with you, you'll never be “weak” or “pathetic” again, came the echo of a voice within him. “ Slow down, killer! You're going to get sick eating that fast!” Casey said as he patted Kenny's back. Kenny was having trouble stopping himself from eating as he chowed down another large double cheese burger topped with fries on the patty. Kenny didn't know why but his stomach had been gurgling all the way to the fast food joint as he rode in Casey's car. Kenny stopped scarfing down fries to look up embarrassed as he looked at Casey. He couldn't figure out why Casey was looking at him with such a happy look on his face. Casey's were so beautiful as they looked into Kenny's. Kenny was redder than a tomato as he realized he'd just scarfed down 3 double cheese burgers like an animal in front of his roommate like a glutton and sat up straight. “Sorry, I'm just so fucking hungry. I don't know what's come over me.” “I see what you mean, man. I don't know what it was but, somewhere in that match, you were just changed and you were coming at him like a fucking demon!” Kenny cringed at the sound of the word demon. Oh please, you can't react to every time someone throws that word at you, came Nick's voice. I don't start shaking in boots every time someone shouts 'Jesus Christ' or 'God dammit'. Kenny ignored the voice as he looked down at his food. He still had 2 more burgers to finish and the one he was eating was just about destroyed. Casey saw the look in Kenny's eyes and smiled. “Don't be so shy, champ. A winning man needs lots of food if he's gonna keep winning, right?” he said as he lifted a handful of fries and started eating. He couldn't loose to his roommate in such a competition as eating. Kenny only smiled as he looked at his food again. “Hey........ can we go to the gym? I really need to see myself in profile” he felt brave enough to say. Casey looked shocked at what he just heard but nodded his head. “Uh, sure, man. We can work out a little too if you want” he joked. “That'd be great, man” Kenny said. Casey stopped eating and looked at Kenny. What part of him had started calling him 'man'. That wasn't something Kenny would say. “155.” Kenny's jaw dropped as he heard that number. Casey wasn't far off as he looked at the number at disbelief. “ Well that's impossible. We just weighed you yesterday. You're 134. That's 20 pounds....” Casey looked at Kenny and began to ponder that as he looked him over. Kenny didn't look quite the same in his uniform now. The singlet he'd worn under his clothes at the fast food restaurant was a lot tighter than he remembered as he looked him over. His arms were starting to look kind of rounded now that Casey looked at them. His shoulders and traps were a little bit more full than they were before. As he looked further downward, Casey could see that a bit muscle was showing in his friend's chest area. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought they were pecs. As he looked further down, he saw that the muscle in the waist, the singlet was struggling against Kenny's 6 pack. What was most noticeable was Kenny's lower body. Casey was shocked at the new definition in Kenny's legs. They were actually fighting against the singlet with a real push, making the flesh remain constantly flexed against the constraints of the leg holes. Casey had looked at the waist of his friend's body and gasped as he saw something he didn't remember in Kenny's crotch. A cock about 4 inches in length was starting to grow and elongate down Kenny's leg. He'd accidentally caught Kenny naked in their dorm and knew without a doubt Kenny wasn't all that big if not ridiculously small. That was no longer the case as Casey saw Kenny's cock bounce and push through the fabric of the singlet leg. Before long, Kenny was sporting a thick 7 incher in his crotch now. One that was starting to form a wet spot at the angry tip. Casey licked his lips before shaking his head clear and looking back up at Kenny. “ Scale must be fucking broken.” Kenny looked up with his big blue eyes at Casey. “Yeah, definitely.” Casey put his big hand on Kenny's shoulder. It was kind of hard now. “ Ready for a workout, kid?” he asked Kenny face to face. That was when he realized it. Kenny was taller than he remembered. He looked down and realized he'd never been so close to Kenny standing on the scale. Kenny took the invitation to work out as permission to leave the scale. “Sure, Casey” he said up to him. Casey took the response but he still looked shocked. Casey remembered for sure. He was 6'1. Kenny was 5'6. He remembered being able to look at the top of his head. Now, he had to stand completely straight to see the top of his hair. Must be my imagination, he thought as he began the walk to the other part of the gym. He wasn't aware of what was growing inside Kenny. And per usual, neither did Kenny. To Be Continued.

Immediately, both of us needed a break. The room had suddenly gotten very hot and I was worried I was going to pass out if I didn’t sip something cool. I took a long gulp of what did turn out to be whiskey – Irish, at that – and loved how the back of my throat burned. It briefly took my mind away from the burning at my crotch and helped me from spewing uncontrollably. After a few seconds of silence Mr. Hugeness deemed it was time to continue our foreplay. “So, what is it about me that turns you on, little man?” he asked in a low, serious voice. It was clear he loved talking about himself. “It’s mainly your size and how it makes me feel,” I responded, without any hesitation. “It’s the same feeling I get when I’m standing in front of a mountain range, a huge ocean, or a giant skyscraper. It causes a mixture of awe and vulnerability that’s hard to describe. I feel insignificant beside you, but at the same time I somehow absorb some of your obvious power and it excites me to no end. My body realizes that you could demolish most things around you – including me – and that turns me on. Knowing you have the ability to manipulate physical things in your surroundings with your bare hands is so exciting. It’s probably the same crazy thrill people get from chasing tornadoes or riding out hurricanes. Being part of some intense force that you know could be wildly dangerous is simply incredible. One glance at you and it’s clear you could destroy this bar if you wanted to and it’s probably the knowledge that there’s always the possibility of you causing some serious damage that makes me go really wild.” “Fuck, I like the way you talk, sir,” he said. “Yeah? Well the same is true for me, Mr. Hugeness,” I shot back. “When you talk about your body or what you can do with it, I can be taken to the brink of cock-overload quicker than anything. Hearing some big man lovingly describe what it’s like to be massive is like a drug I’ve grown addicted to – I’ll never get enough.” “So, if I tell you that the way my chest stretches this old tank-top to the ripping point and the way the tight material roughly rubs my hard man-nubs really turns me on, that’s good, right? My chest pops out so far that the weak material screams for relief. At any point I could flex my pecs and the thing would be a gonner. Does that excite you, too?” he asked teasingly. “More than you’ll ever know,” I whispered in a voice that made it clear I never wanted him to stop talking. “And if I tell you that sometimes I curl so much weight with my arms and become so swole that later on I can’t bend my guns enough to scratch my ear - that’s good, too?” he asked, clearly getting excited by what he was saying, as well. “Aw, fuck yeah,” was the only thing that came to my mind to say. We were both slowly being hypnotized by the moment – his sexy voice, a buzz from the whiskey, the fact that the reality of what he was talking about actually existed there on the stool, and the intense mutual excitement caused us both to slip into some kind of deep trance. I could not figure out if I was more lost in his huge muscles or the fact that he loved talking about them. I’m pretty sure it was a mixture of both, but getting a glimpse of his body from his viewpoint was enough to drive me insane. I’d always wondered what it felt like to be enormous – the kind of big that caused people to get whiplash from jerking their necks around after casually glancing in my direction. The kind of big that even made packed subway crowds part in a combination of fear and awe. The kind of big that made the tailor’s hands shake wildly from lust as he wrapped a tape measure around parts of your body to size you for clothes – and his shocked face when he realized he’d have to buy more fabric. The type of big that could get you out of a speeding ticket because when the cop walked up to your car window he immediately sensed he was no longer the alpha male, even if he did have a gun. The type of big that made it impossible to walk by mirrors and not stop to stare at yourself for a few minutes – and even caused you to flex for a quick rush to your groin. The kind of big that when you walked into a dinner party every guy present moved instinctively to his spouse – whether male or female – in an attempt to protect his property, even as their dicks were shriveling up from a feeling of inadequacy. Here, with Mr. Hugeness, I had finally met someone that could clearly tell me what it felt like to be that big – probably even bigger. “It’s great being this big, man,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. “I’ve learned to walk into rooms and immediately glance at everyone’s crotches. If it were a cartoon you’d hear “sproing” all over the place as guys shoot hard. Like you, tonight – I walked in and you were one of the first to sprout major wood. I was pretty impressed with your speed, dude. I bet you got a little light-headed when all the blood rushed to your crotch.” “You mean like I still am now,” I added. “I find that fucking hot,” he continued, “That my muscles can control a man’s body in that way. All night long you’ll be fighting to find ways to prevent your cock from spewing and I’ll be looking for that specific flex or that certain comment that will push you over the edge, making you erupt uncontrollably. It’s that direct link between my hard massive chiseled beef and your adoring ready-to-explode dick that I love so much. I’ve spent years trying to learn different ways to make little guys have mind-boggling and total body-depleting orgasms. It’s a powerful experience to have a guy submit to you just because you’re huge.” We again sat there in total silence for a few seconds – both of us trying desperately to prevent the inevitable. I wanted to make the edging last as long as I could. I also didn’t want to make a public mess in my pants. I had a feeling Mr. Hugeness was hoping for the same thing. He looked at me with a face that made it clear an important question was coming. “What’s it like to be so small?” he asked, sincerely. I looked at him and responded, “I really don’t think of myself as small – that is, until I’m next to you. When I’m beside you there’s an immediate feeling of being insufficient – even downright weak and paltry. But the longer I’m near you the more that feeling is replaced by something akin to security or a womblike familiarity. Your hugeness makes me feel secure and safe. Don’t get me wrong, my body knows to be intimidated and fearful of you, but at the same time it’s a little like standing beside an elephant. You’re a little nervous, but also in so much awe of the beast’s size that you kind of forget your fear. You also radiate a heat that surrounds my body and actually enhances the feeling of comfort. Being next to you makes it great being small. It’s a turn on, in fact – knowing you could dominate me easily. I’m one of those guys that gets off on the fact that you can subdue me with one arm. Being overpowered by you would probably make me squirt big time. Pin me against the wall with your big paw and watch me squirm trying to escape your grip. Lift me in the air with one arm and watch me flop around wildly trying to get my body back to the ground. Wrap your big gun around my neck and laugh when I realize you could flex and my airflow would stop. Squeeze me between your giant quads and love how my small body starts to crumble as you tighten. What’s it like being so small. It’s heaven when I’m around you.” “Man!” he exclaimed, “You’ve got a serious muscle fetish, don’t you, bud? I’m hard as hell just from listening you spout off about my body. You make me want to take on an army.” I was feeling bold – mainly because I was next to him and his cockiness was rubbing off on me even more. I reached down between his legs – without even glancing below – and easily found the giant log. I latched onto it with my hand, as best I could through his pants, and squeezed. The hard thing didn’t give much at all. A strong tool for a strong man – of course it would be that way. “I’d like to watch you defeat an army,” I replied. “Damn, little fella, you almost made me blast off right then,” he said quickly. “You need to warn a guy before you make a move like that. How about I return the favor.” He placed his right elbow on the bar in front of him. This made his giant biceps bunch up right in front of me. He then started to squeeze his fist, causing the humongous mound to explode upward. I could have released a torrent of cum at that second, but I refrained from gushing just because I was so mesmerized by his giant arm. My left hand stayed wrapped around his cock while my right hand shot up to feel his biceps growing. As soon as I touched his hard peak the heavens opened up and I heard angels singing. It wasn’t just an out-of-body experience; it was the kind of sensual overload that can only come from something so powerful that you instantly realize your own insignificance. His huge gun was a work of art, a secret weapon, and a mind-altering reality all at one time. I could have never been prepared for what feeling his muscle would do to me. I immediately felt a burst of energy that could have powered the lights of New York City for years. It was much more powerful than being hit by lightning. It was like a symphony of multiple orgasms all at one time. He must have felt the same thing because his bulging muscle shot even harder and immediately grew bigger. I could not believe the thing could actually increase in size or hardness. Mr. Hugeness let out a loud half growl-half sigh that clearly made many men in the bar shoot to the brink of ejaculation. It was the sound of a beast before it moves in for a kill. I only held back my impending explosion because the size and firmness of his biceps completely befuddled my mind. “Dude, what was that?” he asked. “I don’t know,” I replied. “But I know I liked it.” “I’ve never been zapped with that much juice at one time,” he said, looking into my eyes. “Your little hand touching my big gun made me flex so hard I think I added an inch to my biceps!” It was just a figure of speech, but he did seem even bigger than before. I know it was only because I continued to be blown away by his size and shocked by being this close to such a muscled giant, but it certainly felt like he was growing. And both my hands were equally impressed by sudden growth – the one on his arm and the one on his cock. I never knew skin could feel so hard. My little hand tried to squeeze his mammoth peak and my fingers couldn’t compress in at all. His biceps withstood my most powerful squeeze – easily. The thought of his mere muscled skin being more powerful than my grip was almost too much for me. I felt my cock surge to the edge of no return, but I willed the tsunami of cum to stay within me. I was not ready to offer my man-honey to this god. There was too much exploring still to do. “How can a person be so hard?” I asked, gazing at his huge gun. “Years of lifting and years of flexing, dude,” he replied. “The skin simply stretches to cover all that bulging rock.” “Your arm’s not the only thing bulging,” I shot back. “And it’s not the only thing hard as rock, either.” “I’m glad you noticed,” the big man said, teasingly. “How could I not?” I answered. “It’s as big as the rest of you.” “Yeah, I work that muscle out a lot, too,” he said smugly. “Maybe you can help me exercise that hefty thing later on. It likes lifting little men.” The idea of my body going up and down in the air as it rested on his big cock was like a muscle dream come true. Goosebumps broke out all over my body and my hands trembled with excitement. He noticed my reaction and this made him again growl with pleasure. I couldn’t believe how he got so turned on by my reaction to his body. It was clear he loved making little guys lose control. It was also clear that he was impressed with how long I was holding out from exploding. I had a feeling most men didn’t last beyond the ten-minute mark when he started flexing, but here I was holding his bulging arm and his stiff cock and I hadn’t yet released my load. “You’ve got the stamina of a man twice your size, little fella,” he said – laughing, but I knew it was a compliment. “I have a feeling the longer I hold off,” I answered, “the bigger the payoff is going to be.” “Damn, I love the way you think,” he replied. “Tell me what that big thing feels like to you.” “You mean what’s between your legs or this huge gun of yours?” I asked and he immediately laughed. “Let’s start with the biceps, man, and then we can move to the final prize later,” he said. “First of all – it feels like something I want to wrap my entire body around and have it hold me tightly all night long,” I began. “That can be arranged,” he answered. I continued, “It feels like power – yeah, tremendous power. I know one of your arms can lift more than my entire body. It’s almost as big as my entire body. Your flexed gun makes people stop in mid-sentence and stare. I don’t even have to turn around to look – I know most people in here are freaking out as they see this big mound of beef peaking wildly. I always say arms are what make the man. If a guy has huge biceps he is automatically respected and sometimes even feared. I can feel your blood pumping through the thick veins that cover the muscle. When you make the mound of meat bulge upward my entire body freezes with intense desire. I long to grope the thing so deeply that it will become part of me. I wish I could absorb the muscle into my being.” My hands were busy stroking unnatural massiveness – one was massaging Mr. Hugeness’ giant arm and the other was busy rubbing his hardened shaft. I think both actions were giving the big man equal amounts of pleasure. I’m pretty sure his biceps were one of his major erogenous zones and it was clear that intense attention to his big gun could make the guy shoot off like a rocket. I so wanted to make the guy cum intensely. I wanted him to have a ‘throw your head back, scream like a wild beast, and buck like a untamed stallion’ orgasm. Watching his huge body tense up even more as he ejaculated would have certainly sent me over the edge and I would have spewed uncontrollably. His huge frame was so hard and so tightly wrapped already – that feeling his muscles flex even more rigid would almost be better than exploding myself. I could not believe something that already felt like marble could get even harder. It was simply mind-blowing – what this man’s body was capable of. Suddenly his face was next to mine and he was whispering. “Unless you’re going to put that hot mouth of yours around my cock right here and right now you gotta stop stroking it. I’m about to blow a big hole in my pants and then coat the surrounding area with my juice,” he said – and it was more of a plea than anything else. I removed my hands – both of them. I wanted to give both of us another break. We each instinctively took another sip of our drinks and Mr. Hugeness signaled to the bartender to bring two more over. I still could not tell if I was getting drunk or I was just intensely lightheaded from all the blood rushing to my dick because of this man. We both stared at the mirror in front of us – gazing into each other’s eyes without looking at each other. There was something magical happening at that moment and neither of us needed to hurry anything along. We wanted to remember this night forever.

27/4/14 Hey followers sorry its been two weeks since my last diary update, i have just been to engrossed in watching my body grow and grow and my strength rocket up. Over these 2 weeks i have amassed a staggering 300lb of soild muscle and added 30" to my muscles. So if your maths is all correct i currently weigh 440lb and have 57" biceps!!! If you have been reading my other blogs you would know that i was only meant to take 1 pill a day but i scrapped that and started taking 2 to 3 a day!!! Here are the results: Me from last blog: http://ectomorphworkout.org/wp-content/uploads/Ectomorph-Workout-Home.jpg Me Now!!!!: http://radiokida.deviantart.com/art/Gym-Muscle-266622872 As you can see guys there is a colossal difference over those two weeks and boy has it been noticed sadly for not all the right reasons!! Since my last blog my group of friends including buff dave have disowned me, they said they want nothing more to do with me as i have become a freak, they thought that i was just gonna grow a little and not become a monster like alex! i asked them what it had to do with them what i did with my own body, things got a little nasty i ended up knocking dave out, i hardly touched him too, shows what strength and power i have now, i didnt want to hurt anyone but rage was building inside me and it just happened. So now my only friend is the beast that is alex, who has grown even more since the last pic, here he is now!!! http://radiokida.deviantart.com/art/Buff-Muscle-Extreme-2-277080517 he's making me look skinny again with his new size. his biceps are over 90" now, siiiiick!!! As i put on my last blog,alex wants me to start a muscle domination duo with him, considering both our sizes its gonna be fun, were starting it next week, i will reveal details on my next blog. i told alex about my little fracas with dave and my old friends, he told me i was a god amongst insects and if anyone told me different i should destroy them!!! bit drastic don't you think lol, thankfully he only meant it in figure of speech terms but he did say to use my power if need be!!! In my last blog i had mentioned that Jack had gone away with his club for warm weather training, he returned yesterday, he got back while i was at the gym(more of which soon!!!), so he didnt see me until i got back in, and as you can imagine there was stunned silence and lots of WTF!!!!! Questions were asked about steroids, i told him i hadnt taken any, i confessed to him about the pills and wanting to get freaky huge, i couldn't lie to my cute as fuck older brother even though i was a good 240lb heavier than him and biceps bigger than his head!! He told me he was a disappointed that i had taken this road but i was his brother and he would support me in what ever i choose to do. Now the gym!!! Due to my super growth and strength, the weights at jacks club gym were now pathetically light, so i am now at a proper bodybuilding gym, im benching crazy weight like 500kg, curling 250, squatting 650!!! ive had to specifically order super heavy weight plates for me to use as i'll shortly be to strong for the weights the gym has. I have also jotted down a target size for me to achieve, all im saying is 440lb and 57" will be small compared to what i want!! Thats all for now folks.

Baring Bones: A Halloween Story - Chapter 4 (and Bestiary Notes) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 ------------------------- Can I just state, for the record, that this really wasn’t how I’d hoped I’d be spending the evening? Is it too much to ask that I go to a party, hang out with friends and coworkers, show off my costume, and maybe meet a hot guy who doesn’t turn into a huge brute possessed by the ghost of a puritan witch hunter who decides to murder me in a clearing full of the bones of monsters? Before my eyes, Gosser was transforming Kellan’s body with the life force of over a hundred party guests. The green light illuminated his muscles so that they gleamed slickly, and every so often, like cartoon electricity, it caused his skeleton to blaze visibly through his skin, looking dark and monstrous. His muscles pumped and burst and grew again, almost seeming to froth. His costume tore off his powerful new body, revealing his warped physique to the world and finally revealing that tattoo that had been teasing me all night: the words “To The Bone” written in interlaced gothic script, stretched from just beneath his right clavicle, dipped across the tops of his pillow-sized pecs, and ending beneath his left clavicle. For some reason, even when the eldritch fire revealed his skeleton, the words stayed there, hovering grimly in front of his uppermost ribs and sternum, only to re-attach themselves to the skin when it re-appeared the next moment. His pants also burst, the black fabric charring in the green energy as a naked and increasingly erect, thick cock spilled out, stretching over a foot long! His balls also bulged, dangling heavily beneath his erection, but while Kellan had been a stunning and enticing figure of a man, Gosser’s possession only made his endowment seem threatening and repulsive. In body shape, his physique resembled some cross between a bodybuilder on the cover of FLEX magazines and the oversized physique of comic book ‘tanks’: enormous muscles, but gleaming with sweat and ectoplasm, and sharply defined, with noticeable veins and heavy striation. My enhanced vision noticed that the red lights had been flashing back at the manor, but now they’d gone dark, and as they died, so did most of the emerald flames around Gosser/Kellan, now standing over eight feet tall and looking down on me with a sickening grin that occasionally flashed the horrible rictus of Kellan’s bare skull. Horribly, Gosser took his massive hands, every inch of tightly-packed muscle in his huge arms flexing as he did so, and began to slide them over his new form, caressing and stroking his stolen skin in a blasphemous form of self-worship. “AT LAST,” he moaned, as he continued to feel his own horrific muscles. “LET ME SHARE SOME LAST WISDOM BEFORE YOU TAKE MY PLACE IN THE GRAVE, YOU UNCLEAN THING,” he snarled at me in that creepy dual voice. “WHEN I WAS ALIVE, I SPENT MY LIFE PROTECTING THE PITIFUL HUMAN RACE FROM ITS OWN DARKNESS… THE PURSUIT OF CORRUPT MAGIC, THE WORSHIP OF FOUL ENTITIES, THE REANIMATION OF DEAD TISSUE, THE BEASTS AND MONSTERS THAT LIVE IN MAN’S SHADOW… BUT IT WAS ALL FOR NAUGHT. AS THE YEARS PASSED, FEWER AND FEWER ALLIES JOINED MY SIDE, AND THOSE THAT REMAINED BECAME AS GRAY-HAIRED AND WRINKLED AS I. MEANWHILE, THOSE QUAKERS PLAYED THEIR LITTLE WELCOMING GAMES, PUSHING FOR ACCEPTANCE OF ALL NEWCOMERS, NEVERMIND THEIR ORIGINS AND POTENTIAL THREAT. I WAS RIDICULED, AND MY TRAINING CAMP SHUT DOWN, ONLY TO BE TAKEN OVER BY BRAINLESS BIBLE STUDIES AND WHINING CHILDREN! FINALLY, A DESCENDANT OF MY USELESS YOUNGER BROTHER BOUGHT THE PROPERTY AND BUILT HIS HOME ON IT, BUT HE AND HIS DESCENDANTS WERE ONLY INTERESTED IN MAKING MONEY, AND LACKED TRUE FAITH AND TRUE DISCIPLINE. FORTUNATELY, I HAD ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY. I TURNED TO MY NOTES ON THE VARIOUS WITCHES AND SORCERERS OF WHICH I RID THE WORLD, AND FOUND DETAILS ON AN INTRICATE SPELL THAT WOULD ENABLE ME TO LIVE AGAIN… AND THIS TIME, INSTEAD OF BEING A VIRGIN DEFENDER OF THE FAITHFUL, HOLDING MYSELF PURE, I WOULD REVEL IN ALL THE PLEASURES AND POWER I HAD DENIED MY BODY IN LIFE. AS LONG AS ONE OF MY GODLESS RELATIVES CONTINUED TO LIVE, I COULD USE THEM AS A HOST AS LONG AS THEY HADN’T LET THEIR BODY GO TO SEED. HOWEVER, IN ORDER TO REMAKE EVEN A HEALTHY BODY TO MY IDEAL, I WOULD NEED THE LIFE FORCE OF AT LEAST 250 ADULTS. YOUTH IS WASTED ON THE YOUNG, AND I SHALL TREASURE WHAT THEY WERE THROWING AWAY. EVEN WITH A LARGE NUMBER OF PEOPLE HERE, I NEEDED SOME WAY OF HARVESTING THAT ENERGY AND CONVERTING IT INTO ECTOPLASM TO FUEL THE BODY. SO I ARRANGED FOR SPOTS THAT WOULD DRAW A NUMBER OF PEOPLE AT THIS PAGAN CELEBRATION TO BECOME SINKS OF VITALITY: THE WOODS WHERE THEY WOULD DRIVE BY IN THEIR HAY-FILLED CONVEYANCE, THE BONFIRE WHERE THEY WOULD TRY TO DRIVE BACK THE NIGHT’S CHILL, THE DANCE FLOOR WHERE THEY’D CAVORT SHAMELESSLY, THE BAR WHERE THEY DOWNED THEIR DEVIL BREWS, THE PLACE WHERE THEY DEFECATED, AND THE CHAPEL… WHERE MY MORTAL REMAINS WERE SAFELY INTERRED, BENEATH THE STONE FLOOR BEHIND THE ALTAR, FROM WHICH I COULD BEGIN THE RITUAL TO FILL MY HOST WITH THE ECTOPLASM TO REMAKE HIM AS THE MAN I SHOULD HAVE BEEN! FINALLY, WITH THE DOORS BETWEEN WORLDS STILL OPEN FROM ALL HALLOW’S EVE, I WAS ABLE TO ENACT MY PLANS!” While Gosser monologued, absorbed in feeling up his stolen body, I’d been surreptitiously flipping through the journal, hoping that I could find the details about the spell and some way to break it. Knowing where his body was hidden was great, but I couldn’t escape him now, much less get all the way across the property to the chapel and break through the concrete floor, and then concentrate on the music of the Choir enough to summon the Helpful One and send Gosser to the Great Beyond. I’d managed to find rules for how to trick Kappas into bowing and spilling the water from their heads, how to protect yourself from native American curses, and how to wear clothes inside-out to confuse fairies (and most normal people, I’d suspect), as well as a spell to raise the dead to fight on your side against their killer (which would’ve been nice, but I didn’t have “The Bloode of the Innocent,” “The Bloode of a Dragon,”or “The Bloode of Godde’s Servants”… though there was certainly enough “Ectoplasme” around Gosser/Kellan). None of them seemed likely to work. Then the book fluttered from my hands and floated into Gosser’s waiting hand! I realized belatedly that even in a body, he’d retained ghostly powers like poltergeist activity! “THEN, HOWEVER, SOMETHING INTERFERED WITH MY PLANS. I COULDN’T SENSE ANYONE, COULDN’T DETECT ANY FOREIGN MAGIC, COULDN’T EVEN SEE A PERSON I KNEW HAD TO BE THERE, EVERY TIME I TRIED TO CONVERT THIS WHELP INTO MY HOST! I CAME TO THE CONCLUSION THAT ONLY A CREATURE NOT INTENDED AS PART OF GOD’S PLAN FOR THE WORLD COULD SO EVADE MORTAL MAGICAL AND SPIRITUAL SENSES… WHAT IS YOUR NAME, HELLSPAWN?” I found myself suddenly forced to speak, as if the words were being drawn out of me. “Angelo Chiaro Alinero,” I stammered, revealing my full name to monster. I wondered if knowing my name would give him further power over me, but if he could force me to talk, I’m not sure there’s much he couldn’t do already. However, as soon as I spoke my surname, he smiled with wicked satisfaction, and the book levitated in front of my face, the pages turning of their own accord. A flicker of green ectoplasmic flame illuminated a particular passage, listing the family names descended from the Grigori Armaros, “Who Taughte Men The Resolving of Enchantments”. At the bottom of the list was a name, underlined in green: Alinero. “YOU ARE A NEPHILIM, THE DESCENDANT OF A UNION BETWEEN THE SONS OF HEAVEN AND THE DAUGHTERS OF EARTH. YOU ARE SO WICKED THAT GOD HIMSELF SENT THE FLOOD TO WIPE OUT YOUR KIND. AND LOOK… HE DOES SO AGAIN!” Waving his powerfully-muscled, green-glowing arm at the sky, I saw that the full moon had been replaced by storm clouds, and dimly remembered the weather man talking about a hurricane making its way up the coast. With a howling laugh, Gosser continued. “FORTUNATELY FOR YOU, I SHALL TAKE CARE OF YOU, SO YOU NEED NOT FEAR DROWNING LIKE SOME OF YOUR ANCESTORS… YOUR DEATH SHALL BE QUICK, AND AFTER THAT, YOU SOULLESS THING, THERE WILL BE NO PARADISE FOR YOU, JUST EMPTY ETERNITY!” With that, I felt my body lift from the ground and float towards his grasp. I tried to struggle, but I couldn’t move a muscle. I felt his hands wrap around my torso, and waited for the pull, when a woman’s voice echoed through the clearing, and Gosser froze in shock. “So… it looks like someone has some pretty dramatic plans. And it looks like you’ve already killed some of my descendants, Quincy Gosser. I would rather you not harm another.” Tossing me to the bone-strewed ground, giving me a number of bruises and small cuts, Gosser turned to face an exotic older woman, dressed as Marilyn Monroe, and holding Claudia’s empty husk. “YOU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? AND YOUR DESCENDANT… HE IS SPAWN OF THE GRIGORI, NOT YOUR DEBASED BROOD, WITCH!” ‘Marilyn’ smiled condescendingly at him and wiggled her finger teasingly. “Now now, Quincy, do remember that Armaros hasn’t been seen since the Flood. That’s plenty of time for his descendants to mate with mine, as well as many, many, many other people. Time DOES fly, after all.” Gosser curled his fingers into fists. “I WILL DESTROY YOU BOTH, THEN!” ‘Marilyn’ laughed, a rich, throaty chuckle that almost sounded like a purr. “Oh, that was a good one, darling! You just slaughtered about 280 people in Halloween costumes, just so that you could pose in a speedo and live out the boyish daydreams you never actually indulged in life. You haven’t the vision, the wisdom, or, frankly, the balls, to face me.” She then winked at me. “Unfortunately, I am unable to actually interfere with someone of fully-human descent without provocation, and though you have descended further than most, you still… barely… qualify, Quincy. However, I am allowed to tip the scales in favor of my family.” She pulled a long, thin dagger from somewhere in her billowing skirts, held up Claudia’s gray finger and pricked it, then shouted, “YOUR LEFT POCKET, ANGELO,” before vanishing in a puff of smoke. I found myself able to move and reached into my pocket as commanded, pulling out a small vial labeled “Dragon Blood.” Before Gosser could stop me, I threw it to the ground, enjoying the satisfying sound of the glass shattering and wiping my own blood from my arms as I repeated the small, nonsense chant from the journal. My voice seemed to echo in the clearing, becoming more pure and powerful as the bones began to rise, cloak themselves in blood-red skin and muscle and assemble themselves as a collection of monsters, who immediately turned against Gosser with a vengeance. I saw harpies, trolls, ettins, lamiae, satyrs, and more wade into combat with the enormous hunk, whose green fire charred their reformed flesh, and whose punches and kicks sent them flying. The monsters were relentless, but Kellan’s body and Gosser’s powers together were unstoppable. As more and more of the monsters started to fall and turn to dust, one of them, a hugely-muscled creature with the horns of both a ram and a bull, lifted me up and said, in a voice that sounded like the ruined throat it used to speak, “Thhhhank yooou, brotherrrr. Weeee wellllcommme vennnnggeannnnce agggainnnsssst ourrrr killllllerrrr. Gooo annnnd ennnnd hiimmmm forrrr usss!” With that, the creature threw me high into the air, well over the tree line, back towards the fields. As the storm rumbled around my hurtling body and the rushing wind pulled tears from my eyes, I felt resigned to crashing into the earth and dying, when the costume wings on my back suddenly unfolded, fanning out behind me. The plastic and fabric warped as my body seemed to catch fire, blazing white like a shooting star. As swiftly as they’d begun, the flames went out, and I found that I wasn’t cold, the wind now seemed to caress me instead of blowing at me… and that I was no longer wearing the wings…. they’d become real, and fused with my back. I remembered The Helpful One giving them to me and realized this had been its plan all along! What’s more, I felt powerful… running my hands down my body, I realized that my shirt had burned away, and I now possessed the sculpted powerful body of an Olympic athlete, with curly hair-covered gymnast-like chest muscles to power my new wings, which were clawed at the top like a bat’s but covered in ravenlike feathers that shaded from black to blue, purple, green and red at the tips, with an iridescent oily sheen. I flexed my chest and found that doing so caused my wings to beat, sending me soaring upward! With a cry of exultation to answer the thunder of the storm, I beat my wings, feeling my body pump as I sped towards the Manor. As it came into view, I realized that there was no motion. Gray husks from the party guests littered the grounds, and I remembered that I was now the only living person on the grounds (though I technically was over the grounds at the moment) unless you counted Gosser in Kellan’s body. Far behind me I heard a terrible roar of fury as the sounds of the fight between the dead monsters and the tremendous Gosser continued. They wouldn’t be able to buy me time for much longer, though, and I still had to break through the stone in the chapel to reach Gosser’s real body. My wings fanned out, pulling me up before gently dropping me to the ground and folding up against my back. Then I felt a chill at my back. I whirled around, fanning my wings out aggressively to make myself look bigger, and stared at the sight in front of me. A hazy, transparent version of Claudia, still dressed in her costume, hovered behind me, looking nervous. She parted her lips, and a voice like the whisper of a fall breeze said, “I’m sorry… he took me over and used me while I was asleep. He thought he could get close to Kellan through me. And he did… but you brought me back once, and the lady using my blood for that spell snapped me out of the shock of having my life taken from me. I think she wanted me to help somehow, but what can I do?” I shook myself. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry… I’ve got a crush on your boyfriend, and if I’d been focusing on actually solving this mess instead of how tight his costume was, maybe we’d have been able to keep you alive.” Claudia’s shade moved closer, but her face had a rueful smile. “I’m not entirely comfortable with you and Kellan, together, but he still cared for me… at least before that monster too him over. And I have to say, you look pretty amazing now,” she continued, giving my new musculature a once-over. “If you can somehow manage to save all of us, I think I’d be up to try sharing Kellan.” Before I could respond, behind Claudia (or through her, actually), I saw a sudden burst of green flames exploding from the woods. “That’ll be the end of the reanimated monsters,” I groaned. “He’s coming. We need to get into the Chapel, and we need to get his body from underneath the altar. Maybe we can do it together, or between the two of us, we can get inside Kellan’s head and break him free. Let’s go!” Her face lighting up (literally glowing) at the thought of defeating Gosser and rescuing Kellan, Claudia drifted through me and inside the doors of the Manor. I opened them and followed her, only to be slowed down when I realized that my head was scraping the top of the door! I’d grown in height as well as musculature, and I remembered the stories of the Nephilim had described them as giants. Ducking carefully, I entered the main drinking room, which was eerily silent with no one talking and the dj’s music turned off, and found Claudia’s path blocked by a bunch of ghosts dressed in old-fashioned attire. One of them, a skinny, bearded man, moved forward and said, “We are the soldiers of God and the slayers of monsters. Our brother, Quincy Gosser, has called us back to stop you, Abomination… and you shall be stopped!” Immediately, torches, pitchforks, and other makeshift weapons formed in their hands and they menacingly waved them at me. Claudia ducked through me to avoid getting stabbed by a spectral musket blade, but I’d had enough. “Your time is long gone, and your crusade, while noble, was misguided and callous. Your current goal is foolish and in defiance of both natural and supernatural laws, and I have seen far more frightening things tonight than a group of colonial spooks. What’s more, I’ve BECOME a more frightening thing than all of you. I am alive, and this is my world… your world passed away with you, and you are not welcome here. BEGONE!” To emphasize my argument, I flexed my ripped chest, and my wings unfolded behind me, causing a draft of wind that knocked over more than a few bottles of cheap alcohol and spilled dozens of plastic cups on the lifeless party guests. I stared them down, my eyes never leaving the ghost’s, and my rage at their idiotic temerity caused white flames to lick my skin and dance among my hair and feathers. The ghosts quailed before the sight, and though some looked indignant, they all faded away. The flames died, and I folded my wings behind me, and took off at a run towards the chapel doors. I pushed them open with a cacophonous BANG that echoed through the chapel, and Claudia and I raced to the Altar, only to stare at the unmarked floor. Without being asked, Claudia did a swan dive into the floor, passing through the concrete, only to emerge a moment later, as if rising from a pool. “There is an old, worn coffin with a body down there… about six feet under… but I can’t turn it ghostly and bring it up with me or anything! What do we do? Kellan will be here any moment!” “I’ll have to break through it,” I said, hoping I wasn’t making a big mistake. However, the power of my muscles, and the warmth of the white flames filled me. I focused on Kellan’s kiss, on his attitude, the way he was protective of me, how he insisted I never risk my life again, and all the other moments we’d shared that evening… and the thought that Quincy Gosser, all-around useless member of society, had used Kellan as if he didn’t matter at all filled me with a terrible wrath. With a furious battle cry, I leaned over and slammed my fist into the concrete. I didn’t feel anything when my knuckles connected with the cold stone… but cracks began to form as it crumbled, revealing another layer beneath it. Again and again and again I punched, sifting aside rubble until I reached soil and began digging with my bare hands until they reached wood. “ARTEMIS,” cried Claudia, almost in my ear, and biting back a curse both at the lack of time and Claudia’s inability to remember my name, I looked up to see the glowing, monstrous, skeletal form of Gosser striding into the Chapel. He saw what I was doing, and with a wave of his hand, sent a blast of telekinetic force at me… it knocked the altar backwards, and only a quick beat of my wings sent me upward, dodging it just in time, and giving me the chance to form a blade of white flames. I descended on Gosser like a stooping falcon, and crashed into his billowing chest. Green flames coiled against white ones. My own enhanced physique and fiercely buffeting wings countered Kellan’s much greater musculature. But I had trouble dealing with his poltergeist powers, and once, when I was about to land a punch, he phased through it, becoming insubstantial for a moment, only to solidify enough to take a swing at me! If I was caught up in fighting Gosser/Kellan, I couldn’t get back to the body and call the Helpful One. “I’ve got this,” murmured Claudia in her whispery voice, and I felt her melt into my body instead of passing through it. My white flames blazed around us and I suddenly felt everything slow down… except me. Winding back, I landed a perfect punch straight at Kellan’s “To the Bone” tattoo and, filled with Claudia’s spirit, Gosser couldn’t phase away. I felt Claudia speak through my lips: “Get. Out. Of. My. BOYFRIEND!” As soon as my fist connected, I suddenly found myself, no longer a warrior angel, but my normal body, wearing costume wings, floating beside Claudia in a vast room filled with green mist. Hovering in the center of the room was a naked, skinny Kellan, looking very much like he had when we first met. He looked up at us and his eyes widened in shock. “Did… did he kill you both? I felt him take me over, but I can’t remember anything else. I’m so sorry! I thought I could protect you both, but those muscles were useless! And now I’m stuck like this forever and you guys are gone!” “Um, baby,” Claudia interrupted as Kellan began to tear up, “I don’t feel any different besides being here. I think we’re no more dead than before. We’re in your mind or soul or something. I think that if we can clear out this mist, you can fight back against that creep. And we need you to fight back… otherwise, even Armand here won’t be able to handle him.” I forced myself not to rise to the bait… no one could be that hopelessly awful at names, could she? “She’s right, Kellan. I might be able to take him on, but I can’t fight you… especially if there’s a chance we can get you back. And a really powerful witch and a… an archangel seem to think there’s still that chance. So come on… it’s time to use your muscles and show Gosser that he’s got no clue what he’s meddling with.” I reached out my hand to him, and Claudia did the same. When Kellan tentatively wrapped his agile, musician’s fingers around ours, the three of us began to glow, and the mist turned white and faded away… and then a blinding flash of light filled the room. When my eyes cleared, I found that I was in my angelic form, again, and Kellan was still roiling with Gosser’s energies… but he seemed paralyzed. Claudia’s wraithlike form appeared swirling around them, and she shouted, “We’ve got him! Go!” I turned and sprinted for the unearthed grave, but with each step I began to hum, then actually sing, making up the words. At first it was just my normal baritone, but then I started hitting notes that were well beyond my range, both extremely low and shockingly high. Then I started singing in multiple voices at once! Then some of them were singing different songs in different languages, the words and pauses, the breaths and echoes intertwining. I felt like my chest was swelling, the muscles in my throat vibrated as impossible harmonies poured from my lips. After I worked my fingers into the wood of the coffin and lifted it off with a flex of my muscular arms, I ripped the lid off and revealed the dried bones resting awkwardly inside. I distantly heard Gosser scream in despair and frustration, but those pitiful wails were drowned out as the many voices coming from me were joined by countless other voices… including one that was much deeper and richer than the others. The many separate songs blended together into one, and in a language that sounded more like birdcalls than human speech. I placed my hands on the sternum and the skull, and ended the song with a single word that I intuitively knew meant “Return/Release/Undo/Let Go.” Whatever that language was, speaking it involved more than just saying a word. As I was speaking it felt like a tremendous pressure weighed me down. Some measure of myself went into the song, and I felt like screaming… but I had no more breath to speak after the word left me. I felt the feathers and skin shed themselves from my wings, and the accompanying pain felt worse then when I had my wisdom teeth removed, when I fell off a slide and broke my arm, and when I got sun poisoning combined. I gasped for air, feeling weak and helpless, as my muscles shrank… but not all the way back to normal. I could tell I was still and inch or two taller than I had been, and my muscles retained some of their lithe definition… and a fraction of their strength. My vision felt darker and my hearing felt muffled, as both senses adjusted to the loss of supernatural power, but I could still see a glow and still could hear the Chorus. For all that I was losing, though, I could see that Gosser was similarly afflicted. Kellan’s body broke free of Claudia’s grip, but didn’t do anything except widen his stance, pull his fists back, and then begin punching the air. Seeing an 8’2” guy with rippling muscles shadowboxing was pretty impressive, but as he continued to do it, I realized that there was something odd about his sweat. I pulled myself out of the deep hole in the chapel floor, feeling like all of my muscles were screaming in agony, and shakily made my way towards him, in time to see that his sweat was a rusty red, blood-like shade, and that it seemed to cling to his muscles. However, his skeleton was permanently concealed beneath his skin, which started to look less green and more healthy, though still fair. Gradually his features became less monstrous and twisted, and more determined and handsome. The red ooze formed into a ball, then an actual humanoid figure, rolling back each time Kellan punched, and I realized that he was deliberately sweating Gosser out of his system! I watched as more of his naked body rid itself of the ghost’s corruption. Gosser seemed powerless to fight back, as if my song, touch and word had paralyzed him. Finally, Kellan’s body was coated with nothing but clear sweat, and the slimey Gosser had congealed into a jell-o like consistency when Kellan raised his foot and slammed it down on the ground, sending out another shockwave! Gosser tumbled backwards by about three yards, flipped over the altar and fell into his own grave with a sickening squelch. Unfortunately, without real wings and as drained as I’d become, I wasn’t able to leap away, and toppled over as well… only to be caught by a pair of invisible hands. “Don’t worry, Augustus,” came Claudia’s cheerful whisper. “I’ve got you. This poltergeist thing isn’t that hard.” Meanwhile Kellan was glaring into the grave. “And that’s for hurting my friends, family, and loved ones, and using me to do it, you sick fuck!” He turned and saw me hovering in thin air, and ran over to help me to my feet. “Are you ok, Angelo?” I was about to respond in the affirmative, when I saw that something was stirring from the grave. “Guys, I don’t think Gosser’s quite done yet,” I exclaim as a limb formed of red muck and bone pulled a horrific body from the pit. With sightless eyes and a dripping maw, it hissed at us: “All wassss innnn my grasssp, and you ruinnned it allll… for what? A fewww paltry, spoiled lives, drinking themsellllves senseless? Rommmances that will be forgotten in a fewwww yearrrs? Whhyyyy are theirrrr goals and purrrrsuits morrrre valuable than mine?” “Because,” Claudia retorted. “You have no idea what any of us might accomplish in our lives, and what our futures might be like. You simply took away all of that possibility because you didn’t make the changes you really wanted with your own life, and underestimated and dismissed all of us as unimportant compared to your own goals… to have sex and look attractive and be in shape and party… everything that you accused us of doing.” “Because,” Kellan responded. “You manipulated people, lied to them, frightened them, and tried to control them rather than admit that you might be wrong or that you could have pursued your goals differently. And you betrayed everything that was supposed to matter… your faith, your goals, your family, your friends.” “And because,” I finished, letting the tones of the Chorus flow into my speech. “You died over a century ago. Your time to be in the world is long over. Isn’t that right… Azrael?” The others turned to stare at me, but that deep, rich voice echoed through the chapel. “SO, YOU REALIZED MY IDENTITY, NEPHEW? I AM PROUD OF YOU.” The stained glass window behind the altar blazed with rainbow colors as a figure with four thousand wings, a body consisting of enough eyes and tongues for every human living on Earth, and four floating, masklike faces, one of which was identical to my own, appeared above the altar. “The Angel of Death? You did hint at it after we saved Claudia,” I replied. “And once I got over your appearance and this creep spilled that angels were involved, at least through me, the it was pretty easy to figure out. You called yourself ‘The Helpful One,’ and Azrael means ‘Whom God Helps.’ Besides, he wrote about the different archangels in his journal. I skimmed over the passage the first time, and I was pretty distracted when we met, but it just made sense, in the end.” All four of Azrael’s faces smiled. “OF COURSE. NOW THEN,” his fourth face flipped over, going from my own appearance to a bearded, old-fashioned face that I realized must’ve been how Gosser had looked in life. “QUINCY GOSSER, MANY YEARS AGO, YOU LEFT THIS LIFE. I AM PLEASED THAT YOU ARE FINALLY RETURNING TO YOUR RIGHTFUL REST.” Gosser’s fluid face somehow conveyed an expression of hope. “I’m… I’m going to Heaven? After everything?” Azrael’s voice replied. “THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION. SOME SAY THAT ALL SOULS END UP IN HEAVEN EVENTUALLY, BECAUSE GOD IS MERCIFUL AND LOVING AND HIS SON SACRIFICED HIMSELF. OTHERS SAY THAT YOUR ACTIONS DETERMINE YOUR ULTIMATE FATE. YOUR ACTIONS IN LIFE AND DEATH HAVE BEEN GREATLY GOOD AND UNFORGIVEABLY EVIL. PERHAPS YOU WILL FIND THAT ALL SOULS HAVE THE CAPACITY TO REACH HEAVEN… BUT SOME OF THEM TAKE LONGER TO GET THERE THAN OTHERS.” With a fanning of Azrael’s many wings, and a faint hum of music that I suspected only I could hear, Gosser turned to dust and faded away. The fourth face of Azrael flipped again, this time becoming Claudia’s. “CLAUDIA WILLIS, YOUR TIME, AND THAT OF EVERY OTHER VICTIM OF QUINCY GOSSER’S, HAS NOT YET COME. RETURN TO YOUR BODY, AND THESE TWO WILL BE ALONG SHORTLY WITH MY DIRECTIONS ON HOW TO RESTORE YOU ALL TO YOUR MORTAL FLESH.” Claudia nodded, shooting us a nervous glance, and walked through the walls of the chapel, back towards the clearing where ‘Marilyn’ had left her. That reminded me… who was she? I was about to ask, but Azrael’s face flipped to mine, and its four heads shook in disagreement. “I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO ASK, NEPHEW, BUT I AM FORBIDDEN FROM TELLING YOU MORE ABOUT THE WOMAN DRESSED AS MARILYN MONROE, OR YOUR HERITAGE, SAVE THAT I WAS THE ONE WHO ALERTED HER TO YOUR NEED HERE, AND THAT YOU WILL SEE HER AGAIN SOMEDAY. PERHAPS SHE WILL FEEL MORE OPEN TO CONVERSATION THEN. NOW, WHEN WE SAVED CLAUDIA’S LIFE HOURS AGO, SHE BECAME A LINK BETWEEN THE LIVING AND THE DEAD… AT LEAST FOR THIS NIGHT. THAT IS WHY HER SPIRIT ALONE, OF ALL THE PEOPLE QUINCY GOSSER LEECHED OF THEIR LIFE FORCE, WAS ABLE TO MANIFEST AS A GHOST. YOU WILL NEED TO SING HER BACK TO HER BODY WHILE YOU…” The angel’s face flipped again, becoming Kellan’s. “WILL NEED TO COMPLETE ANGELO’S EARLIER USE OF THE LANGUAGE OF THE BIRDS TO RETURN THE STOLEN LIFE FORCE TO THE GUESTS. I BELIEVE YOUR FAIRY TALES WOULD SUGGEST THE BEST METHOD OF DOING SO. I SHALL ARRANGE FOR THE DAMAGE DONE TO THE PEOPLE AND PROPERTY TO VANISH, AS IF IT HAD NEVER HAPPENED, AND I SHALL SEE TO THE REMAINS OF THE VARIOUS CREATURES ANGELO REANIMATED. NOW, GO AND ENJOY YOUR LIVES… BECAUSE I WILL SEE YOU BOTH AGAIN… SOMEDAY.” With that, the archangel of death vanished. I looked at Kellan, and he actually blushed and scruffed his bare foot against the cracked floor, and tried to cover his crotch with both huge hands (and wasn’t entirely successful). Looking away to spare him some embarrassment, I murmured, “We’d best go meet up with Claudia.” He nodded, and we stepped out into the cold November morning, trudging down the fields towards the clearing. Along the way, he picked up the hayride driver and put him back in the cab of the tractor, but before we reached the clearing, Kellan held up a hand. “Wait… before we go in… I need to do something.” Facing him, I saw his features struggle for a bit, as he tried to decide what to say, before letting out a sigh. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I still need to be filled in on some of the events of tonight while Quincy took me over. I’m kinda worried about giving everyone back their lives. It feels creepy to have them in the first place, but you look like whatever you did put you through the ringer… and I like being a supermuscular, super horny guy with superpowers. It’s been just about the only good thing about his whole night… aside from meeting you. But if I give all that back, I’ll go back to being just another skinny indie guy in a band. Will I feel the same way about you… about guys in general… or will my memories change like Claudia’s did? I can’t just say I can work out or something, because there’s no way that I’d get these muscles through normal exercise… and there’d be no extra height or superpowers either.” He took another deep breath, then let it out, before continuing. “But I have to do it. It’s not right that Claudia and the others die just because I want to be superman. So before I go and restore everyone, I want to do this.” “Wha-,” I started to say, only to have his lips on mine, his tongue seeking entrance, his warm breath a sharp contrast to the cool night air, and his massive biceps and triceps wrapped around me as he lifted me up and held me against his rock-hard, marble smooth chest, the “To the Bone” tattoo warm beneath my fingers. I could feel his groan of satisfaction vibrating through his torso as the kiss became more hungry and fierce. I slid my hands up his pecs to rest on either side of his thick, bull-like neck, caressing the hard mounds of his shoulder muscles. God, could the guy kiss! All too soon, however, he broke away and gently lowered me to the ground in front of his magnificent naked (and hardening) body. “Thanks… even if I forget that and go back to my normal sexuality, it happened, and it happened when my mind and hormones weren’t being messed with. Let’s go break this spell.” It took me a moment to snap out of my kiss-induced stupor, but I nodded, and tried not to stare at his perfect ass as he loped through the undergrowth. I did notice that there were a variety of burns and ashen sticks left over from Gosser’s fight with my monsters, but if I looked closely, I could spot places where shoots were rapidly sprouting and re-growing. I didn’t see any lights, but I could hear the faintest strains of might have been music sung by a choir of angels. Claudia hovered above her lifeless body, and Kellan reached down to pick her up, before turning to lock his blue crystal eyes with mine. “Are you ready?” I nodded, unable to speak at this point. If he did forget and shrink back down, I’d be the only one who remembered anything… since I wasn’t entirely human. That knowledge, while wonderful to know while I was flying through the stormy sky, now made me feel like even more of an outsider than when I’d been the only sober person at a Halloween party. Drawing my attention back to the matters at hand, I cleared my throat and tried to sing. It came out as a croak. With Kellan’s expectant and worried eyes (not to mention Claudia’s translucent ones) on me, I tried again. It was like my throat was filled with silly putty; I struggled to get a reasonable sound out. Eventually I held a long note and was able to clear my throat enough to blend it with others. I drew on memories of flight, white fire, Claudia’s righteous smackdown, Kellan’s growth spurts, and his kisses, and I felt the song echo across the property, collide with the thunder, and seep into the drained bodies of the party guests… right as Kellan placed his lips on Claudia’s. Have you ever mixed a bunch of different paints together, especially in a cup of water? It usually ends up as a gray mess. Watching Claudia return to life was not unlike seeing that process in reverse; her gray pallor began to shift and flicker, and then her skin, hair, lips, and eyes took on their natural hues. To my second sight, however, her aura returned in a blaze like fireworks, or the glow of a summer afternoon when you’re just about to drift into a nap. She took in a deep breath, and Kellan, squeezed her gently, before she began to hungrily return his kiss. He now looked only a little smaller than he’d been a moment ago, but it was hard to tell with him leaning down to make out with his girlfriend. I turned away to give them some privacy and to look in the direction of the Manor, and I could hear the music start back up, along with the sounds of voices as the party returned to life. I could faintly see a blaze of lights from the returning auras of over 250 people registered on my ESP through the trees and walls of the building. The next thing I knew, I was pulled into a hug… not by Kellan’s huge arms, but by Claudia’s skinnier ones. “WE DID IT,” she squealed, almost directly into my ear. “This is awesome, Achilles!” Sigh. “Yeah, you’re right, Claudia… want to go check out the rest of the restored party?” She shook her head. “Nah, we’ll leave that to you. I’m feeling like I need to get my hunk here home and in bed. Have a good night!” Kellan looked like he was delirious that Claudia was back to her normal self (and the prospect of sex with her was a sure thing), so he waved at me and followed her to the car, presumably to avoid being spotted buck naked by anyone else. I stayed in the clearing, watching as the grass and trees re-grew in record time, and stones (actual stones, not fossils of a variety of monsters) emerged from the ground to decorate the space between the foliage. The night was almost over. Claudia was back to life, and the damage was undone. Quincy Gosser would never haunt the world again. Kellan was still in spectacular shape, and his relationship with Claudia seemed as strong as ever. I knew some more stuff about myself, and maybe had some talents I could use in the wide world. I should be happy, right? Except that I’d basically gotten a goodbye kiss from one of the hottest guys I’d ever seen, and I wasn’t sure how to take that. Claudia’s ghost had seemed open to sharing him, but if he was already shrinking, would he retain those feelings for me? And then I smacked myself in the forehead, realizing that I didn’t have Kellan’s number, email, anything! Groaning at my own stupidity, and realizing that Kellan and Claudia would be long gone by now, I began to leave the clearing to begin the long trudge uphill to say my goodbyes to my few remaining friends and coworkers at the party, when my foot kicked something that wasn’t a stone or a plant. I leaned down and picked up Gosser’s journal. And wondered… maybe there could be something in here that I could use. Gosser himself had failed in his mission to keep people safe from the supernatural, but that was because he was going about it the wrong way. Maybe I could learn from his mistakes and take what knowledge there was in the book and do some good with it. Tucking the journal under my arm, I began to follow the path that the hayride had been traveling all night, and reached the party. People were still moving around, shifting from the bonfire to the manor and all about. I decided that one lesson I could take from not following Gosser’s example would be to actually enjoy life as it was… so I went inside, poured myself a soda, and hopped to the dance floor to sway to the music as the dj played a couple of classic songs. And if I was dancing with myself, it didn’t matter. Honest. That goofy couple came around and asked me to flap my wings again, so I humored them, and I spotted Mack dancing drunkenly with another of my coworkers. I went over to them, said goodbye, and headed out. The drive home was uneventful, and I stripped off my costume, hung up my wings carefully, and collapsed into bed. I dreamed, of course, of flying. The next morning, I slept in, slowly pulling myself awake by reading a gay erotic romance novel on my kindle. I got cleaned up, did the laundry, and began the draining hunt for a new job, since I wouldn’t be able to rely on the Halloween Hayride position anymore… or at least, not until next year. As I was applying for an Administrative Assistant position nearby, my phone buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number on the screen, but when I opened it and said “Hello,” the deep, exuberant voice of Kellan filled my ears. “Angelo! How are you feeling?” “Kellan? Dude, I’m fine, but how are you? And how’d you get my number?” “Hahaha… remember when you conked out after singing Claudia back on the dance floor? And you woke up in my car? I went through your phone while you were sleeping in case I had to call your parents or something if you didn’t wake up, and I saved your number. But man, what’s your address… we need to meet up and talk about last night.” “Um… ok,” I murmured, before rattling off my address. I was trying not to get my hopes up, but Kellan had saved my number, even if he’d thought I was dying, and he wanted to meet up… I’m not too proud to take that. In a few minutes, the doorbell rang, and I went downstairs to find Kellan, dressed in a tight band t-shirt and jeans that accentuated his new musculature, while still looking non-mainstream. I let him in, looked him over and asked, “Did you have to go shopping for that outfit?” Kellan nodded. “The jeans, yeah… though I had to wear an uncomfortably tight pair of sweat pants to get into the shop. Nobody ever mentions “No pants, no service, but I didn’t want to risk it. The shirt I got at a show, and accidentally got the wrong size, so it was hanging around. But anyway, I’m too new to this gay thing to talk about clothes, so you might want to ask someone else if that’s all you’ve got to say.” I did a double take. “You’re still interested in guys after last night? I thought with the Sleeping Beauty true love kiss thing and Claudia said…” He flashed me a shit-eating grin. “Oh, Claudia kept me very busy this morning. I really do need a lot more sleep before I’m all caught up. Fortunately, I have a lot more stamina now… and someone else I want to sleep with. So, what’d you say? Want to show me what I’ve been missing?” “Far be it from me to turn down sex with a… what, 7’7” tall, hung, professional bodybuilder guitarist,” I reply, “but…” “I actually sing and can play drums and bass, too,” Kellan interrupted. Then he paused. “Ok, maybe I can’t sing as well as you, but I’m not an angel.” “Demi-semi-hemi-and-whatever-comes-after-hemi-almost-infinitely-back angel, actually,” I retort. “Besides, I’m not sure what I’ve actually got left. You heard me croak this morning, and weakening Gosser enough to break you free took a lot out of me… including my wings and all.” He looked me over, smiling at times, frowning at others. “Huh… You still look more… athletic? Toned? Maybe a bit taller than you already were, too. Maybe you just have to give your singing a rest for a bit, recover, and then practice more… maybe sing normally to build up your vocal skills. If you want to guest star at one of my band’s shows, I’m sure we’d be lucky to have you, even without magic songs.” I did a double take at that announcement. “Are you serious? You’d want me to sing with your band?” “Hell yes,” he said, then looked quizzical. “Can I say ‘hell’ around you? Don’t want to get struck by lightning or something.” I chuckled. “I’m pretty sure we can let it slide. At the most, you might get a static jolt from someone as far removed from the angel family tree as me… besides, I’m pretty sure that my… ancestor… didn’t end up on the best of terms with the Almighty.” “Why’s that,” he asked, a curious expression spreading across his features. “Well,” I hedge. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ve been doing some research all afternoon. Apparently, Nephilim aren’t supposed to exist, which is why Gosser couldn’t sense me until he’d possessed human eyes, and why I was immune to the draining he used on everyone else.” His curious look morphed into an expression of shock and then anger. “Dude, never say that God’s mad at you for existing. That’s stupid! I think God sent you to that party just so that you could save all of us. Without you, Claudia and I, and everyone else there would be wiped out, and Quincy’d have his perfect body and be loose on the world. Besides, you helped out the Angel of Death… they fucking owe you, man, particularly since he used to be a man of faith that they let get out of control. Besides, I shouldn’t be the one to tell you that ancient Biblical scrolls written by a tribal scribe in the desert over two thousand years ago aren’t always God’s honest truth, gay boy.” I was speechless at first, but then I closed my mouth and nodded. He took that as assent and changed the subject. “So, you need to rest your voice, and you might or might not have wings anymore, but you’re immune to magic and spooky spying, you can cast spells, you can see and hear stuff that other people can’t, and you’re more fit than before, right? Well, I’m not as big and strong as I was last night, but I noticed something… this morning I reached for the fridge door, and it opened on its own… I think I’ve got Gosser’s poltergeist ability, and some of his other powers. Not sure how to fog people’s minds… and not sure I want to know after all that he did to Claudia, but I’m still super strong and fast, my senses are overcharged still, and I’m probably still pretty hard to hurt, and I might be able to absorb ghosts’ ectoplasm if I work at it, so why don’t we do some ghost busting, on the side? Maybe I’ll grow stronger, and you’ll get your other powers back, and we can continue to clear up other spooky messes. It’ll be awesome… and we can spend more time together and get to know each other better… and then have some hot, superpowered sex!” I had to laugh at his final statement, but then I thought about it. “Just the two of us?” He nodded. “Yeah. Claudia’s talking about how nice you were at the party… though she still keeps calling you other names beginning with A, even when I correct her. I think that maybe normal people’s minds naturally fog over around the supernatural… and she did die twice last night. It’s probably a good thing that she is blocking the memories out… besides, she hasn’t shown any supernatural powers. I don’t want her to get hurt, and unlike us, she’s not able to defend herself against things that go bump in the night. She did wink at me and told me she wanted all the dirty details later when I mentioned I was going to see you today, though, so I think she’s ok with sharing me, though… and honestly, now that I’m this strong, I need to hold back in sex with her… you, on the other hand, are a… napalm? Nefertiti?” “Nephilim.” “That’s it. You’re stronger… supernaturally strong… and if you’re not quite powerful enough to take on a crazed ghost in my body at the moment, my body’s not over 8 feet tall anymore, either. And you’re a dude. Can we at least try? My hormones are still amped up, and I’d rather not find out I have to be mostly celibate for the rest of my life.” “Poor guy,” I reply, laughing. “Oh, who am I kidding? There’s no way I can resist you, Kellan. C’mon over to the dark side!” In a flash, Kellan was kissing me, hungrily, his powerful hands tearing off my clothes with a loud RRRRRRIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPP, exposing my skin to the cool air. Not wanting to damage his new clothes, I slip my hands under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his hard abdominal muscles before sliding the shirt up over his head. He pulled off his jeans, and I was treated to the sight of his naked body, his huge cock growing erect before my eyes. “Going commando,” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “I couldn’t find any thing that looked good and fit me… I’m kinda… gifted, you know” he replied with a shrug of his mountainous shoulders, before pulling me off my feet and pulling me into an embrace, his hard pecs against my face, while his thick cock filled and stretched towards me. “God, it feels sooooo good just to cut loose,” he groaned. Then he looked down at me. “Can… can we fuck? I don’t think I’m going to last long, and I want that ass. I mean, I want everything… I even want you to fuck me in the worst way, which is kinda messing with my head, you know? But I really, really want to fuck you.” “Sure,” I say. “Lube and condoms are upstairs in my room, in a bag under the bed.” Still holding me aloft, he headed towards the stairs. “Which way?” “Uh… all the way down the hall, to the right,” I manage as his muscles flexed against me with each step up the stairs. He deposited me on the bed with surprising gentleness (but also with haste) and dug under the bed, pulling out the promised bag. “Hold on,” I say. “Lie on your back and let me do it.” Taking the bag from him, digging out the magnums and several packs of lube, tearing them open, and sliding the condom down his huge shaft. It fit… barely. I then slathered the lube up the enormous cock, feeling it twitch with surprising force and eliciting throaty moans from Kellan as he tossed his head back against my pillows and writhed. With a liberal helping of lube, I readied myself, noting that my butt did feel a lot more… muscular… than I remembered, and straddled his hips, gently lowering myself onto his shaft., wincing as I did. With painful slowness, I worked my way down, driving Kellan increasingly wild, his breath heavy and his bodybuilder’s chest heaving, his fair skin flushed to a rich rose hue and his dark hair tangled and framing his perfect face, until I was able to rest my thighs against his flanks, feeling his balls against my ass. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I slid up, and then immediately back down, groaning deep in my throat as I felt Kellan filling me again. After a few more trips up and down his shaft, I felt like I could handle it and said, “OK, Kellan… take me!” A growl almost scarier than Gosser’s creepy rasp emerged from Kellan’s throat as he rolled his hips and slid into me, then rolled back out, then in again. “OOoooohhh, FUCK, YES,” he exhaled. “God, this is so tight! I’m not gonna last… ooooh… long!” “Oh wow! Uh… me neither,” I gasp, shocked, as I usually take awhile to get off when using anything but my hand. But I was fully erect (and was it my imagination, or was I bigger as well?) and dripping precum onto Kellan’s sculpted abs, which were gleaming with sweat. He reached up and slid his hands down my shoulders to the back of my arms, as if feeling my smaller, sleeker (but still mystically enhanced) biceps, and raised his head to lock his bright blue eyes with my dark brown ones. His expression was tender and wild and happy, and then I felt it… his cum gushing inside me, straining against the condom, somehow hitting me in just the right spot, triggering my own burst. I watched in surprise as my cock fired across the expanse of his torso, splashing onto his face and then over his head, against my wall, while I felt his juices slide down his shaft and pooling in his wiry dark pubic hair. He pulled me down, still riding his cock, holding me against his chest, and then kissed me long and deep, the motions of his tongue languid and graceful and sated as those of his new body. It took me awhile to pull myself together after being so thoroughly fucked, and I was enjoying just being held in Kellans muscular arms, when he shifted and said, “I don’t know how I feel about this…” Worried, I looked up at his face, and met his cyan gaze again, worried that he’d somehow gone from having a great time to having gay sex guilt, only to see a smile break over his face. “Do I want to fall asleep snuggling with you like this, do it again, or shower together and feel your hot hairy body all slick and soapy?” Deeply relieved that he wasn’t panicking, I pretended to think about it, stroking my chin, frowning, and narrowing my eyes. “Hmmm… all three?” “Works for me,” he rumbled, sending pleasant vibrations through his chest and cock into my body. “By the way, thought you should know something…” “What’s up?” I asked, stretching out on his hard body. “When we came, I could’ve sworn I saw some of your white flames fanning out behind your shoulders… and they were kinda sorta shaped like small wings.” Elsewhere, a woman who had been dressed as Marilyn Monroe the night before finished her ministrations on a couple of the monsters that had been reanimated to fight Gosser/Kellan the night before. They now looked like fully-living creatures, one with neon green scales and fins, one with scarlet feathers and a beak, and one with thick brown fur and tusks. She planted a kiss on each of their humanlike heads and announced, “There! All better!” If it was possible for the three monsters to blush, they would’ve, but at that instant a Barbie-sized androgynous creature with bat wings and a scorpion tail and tiny horns fluttered into the room. “Madam,” it said with all the formal air of a butler, “The spells you set up to watch your newly-discovered descendant show that he and the revenant from last night were successful in delivering the specter to the angel of death, and that they have formed an alliance to explore the supernatural… and a sexual liason, of sorts. You asked to be kept informed.” The woman flashed a perfectly white smile at the creature. “Thank you, imp. Yes, the boy will bear watching, especially if he can sing and attracted the attention of the archangels.” The three repaired monsters, exchanged a look, when the scaly one asked, “Um, Great One, we consider ourselves in our brother’s debt. Had he not possessed his Grigori ancestor’s talent for spells, we might not all have been brought back. Is he safe with the revenant? Even with the ghost gone, such creatures are…” “Problematic?” Finished ‘Marilyn’, with a wry smile. “I am aware. I do not share your debt… my gift of the dragon’s blood was sufficient reward for coming into his heritage, and he hasn’t shown any features of our side of the family just yet. Still, he could prove useful. And I am sure that if we continue to monitor his actions, we might find a way to bring him into the fold.” The feathered monster ruffled its winglike arms, and asked, “If it is just the two of them, are they likely to encounter much of the supernatural? I thought that their powers were both weakened by getting rid of the ghost. More experienced and sophisticated teams have sought out nonhuman intelligences before… there are whole television shows about them, after all.” The woman nodded. “True. Nevertheless, like calls to like. They two of them are already unable to stay away from each other… and together, they will draw the attention of others.” Her smile turned sharp, showing unusually pointed canine teeth. “Besides, I have it on good authority that things will get interesting for them next Halloween.” BESTIARY NOTES: These files are compiled from Quincy Gosser’s journal, independent research, and my own first hand experience with various paranormal and supernatural entities. I figure that if we are going to seek out the supernatural, we should leave a record of them so that others can learn from our experiences. The following creatures were encountered at the Higgins Manor. Sincerely, - A *Ghosts: Ghosts are some aspect of human LIFE that left such a powerful impression on the world that, at least a portion of the dead soul was unable to actually pass on. Ghosts are unique among undead in that they do not haunt places where their bodies are buried so much as places where they had a vivid emotional experience. This experience is often a complicated and tragic death, or some place that they loved and made their own in life, or a particular conflict or declaration that left echoes through time. It seems that ghosts are not actually creatures of death, per se, but of life. There is some debate about whether or not ghosts are actually the spirits/souls of humans, or whether they are just memories and recordings. In support of the latter theory, ghosts do not change, ever. They are as focused on their goals, their “unfinished business”, or their emotional moments fifty or a hundred years later as they are the moment after they died. Many ghosts have powers that would be described as “psychic”: telekinetic “poltergeist activity,” manipulating the minds and senses of others, possession, etc. When they do create illusions and phantasms, it is usually of their defining event in life. These illusions can be particularly vivid, with some people reporting cases not unlike time travel, experiencing some historical moment that shaped the creation of the ghost as if they’d actually been there. Ghostly possession is usually not as serious as demonic possession. Ghosts, however, show a peculiar ability to pick up greater power the longer they exist and are recognized. Some of what we consider pagan gods or elementals might actually have been ghosts at some point… ghosts who finally changed themselves, or gained some supernatural power and a lasting legend beyond their human identities. However, just as not every elderly individual lives to be 100 years old, not every ghost is remembered beyond the lives of their immediate descendants. Ghosts gain power from human energies and attentions, which is why they are so concerned with haunting humans, particularly if it furthers their goals. Ghosts can be reasoned with, however, and logic does work on them. They also seem to be weakened by the presence of people who don’t believe in ghosts (but strengthened by those people who do believe… and ghosts are possibly the most believed-in paranormal entity out there, second only to God). Many ghosts are essentially harmless… but ghosts, like people, are individuals, and they can be fearsome if roused to action. Many ghosts, it should be noted, do not know or accept their deaths, being far more concerned (or obsessed) with their lives. Fortunately, there are a number of rituals, sounds, prayers, and natural elements that can be used to exorcise or calm ghosts. Unfortunately, such things are considered superstition among many modern societies. With a ridiculous number of fake psychics and mediums out there, finding something that works against ghosts is very difficult. Note that ghosts are only ghosts in the mortal world. If you somehow find your way to an afterlife, the spirits there are often referred to as Shades, Saints, and Ancestors. *Revenants: Straddling the border between ghosts and vampires or liches (which are primarily a convention of fantasy rather than folklore), Revenants are undead spirits that manifest in some form of body, usually their own (though sometimes that of someone else). Revenants tend to have many powers similar to ghosts, as well as an effect on the life around them. Such effects include manifestations of plagues in formerly healthy villages, unusual behavior in animals and people, and a certain inexorable threat to the safety of a large number of people. Attacking or destroying the original body of a revenant, especially with the same rituals used against ghosts or vampires, can be a surefire way of both destroying the revenant and cleansing its influence from the area (miraculous recoveries all around are common afterwards). Kellan is a special case, in that, though he is definitely a revenant, the ghost that possessed him wanted to improve his physical health instead of detracting from it. His system has been permanently marked by the dark ritual and the huge amount of ectoplasm Gosser flooded his body with, though, and this has resulted in some unusual powers, even for a revenant. His connection to me, stemming from my interference in the ritual’s progress, might have muddied the waters as well. Since he has been rid of Gosser’s influence, we’ve primarily noticed that these powers, like my own, tend to be stronger around other supernatural influences, rather than being consistently present. Also, Kellan remains alive, though I have suspicions that he might now have a much longer lifespan than most people… assuming he doesn’t antagonize any paranormal entities too much. Besides, I’ll be watching his back. *Angels: “Do not be afraid.” The traditional image of angels as winged people, or little flying babies is very popular, but not exactly accurate. Angels are often depicted with wings to indicate their spiritual nature, but that rule holds true for fairies, pegasi, and many other entities as well. In fact, if angels do have a presence in the world, popular legends suggest that they look like, or disguise themselves, very much like humans. The true forms of angels are probably difficult to perceive from our limited senses, and are usually described as intricate chimerae, with features of lions, eagles, oxen, snake, humans, wheels, and more. For instance, the word “Seraphim” derives from the same root as “Serpent,” and these “burning ones” might possibly be the celestial dragons of the Far East through another cultural lens. The origins of Cherubim actually describe creatures like the Shedu or Lamassu or sphinxes of other legends, with the bodies of beasts like lions and bulls. Angels are often described as having many eyes, being sources of light, and having an unusual number of heads, wings, and mouths. It is uncertain if they work through humans (possessing them, perhaps) or create human bodies and identities for themselves from thin air. What is known is that the main body of angels has been split at least twice. The angels that followed the Adversary (the devil… it is somewhat confusing as to what he was called when he served God, since sources disagree) have been thrown into the mix of creatures collectively known as demons, and instigated a major conflict in heaven itself. They are now banished to Hell, and are generally not considered “angels” any longer. The rebellious Grigori, on the other hand, are a bit more ambiguous, since they didn’t actually fight with the other servants of Heaven. Angels seem to be constantly linked to the Chorus, which some Nephilim can perceive and join as well, and in this sense, they are working to uphold reality in some fashion that is appropriate to their roles as God’s servants. That said, angels seem to be responsible for a number of religions, but they don’t seem to have any actual preferences (Gabriel is supposed to have heralded the founding of Christianity and Islam, for instance). Also, Angels serve as a buffer between the world and God… such an effective one that even most of the supernatural creatures I have encountered since the night at the Higgins Manor have no idea if God, Heaven, and Hell exist or not. Angels seem to have a number of roles. Attempts to classify angels and assign them a hierarchy have been conflicting and confusing at best. The Seraphim are the highest rank of angels… or the fourth highest. The archangels are only the second lowest rank, but they somehow command all the other angels. None of the Powers have ever fallen from grace, but the devil might have been chief of the powers. It might be easier to describe angels by their actions in general rather than assigning one type to particular roles. Angels are Messengers. They are Guardians. They are Warriors. They are Healers. They are Guides. They are Psychopomps. They are even devil’s advocates and tempters, testing people at times (and there are some suggestions that the devil’s fall is actually orchestrated simply for the purpose of testing humans, and that the supposed War in Heaven is an act). Beyond anything else, angels are inscrutable. They are also powerful. Nothing says “beware” like an entity that is really on a mission from God. Their unusual features and vast abilities are likely why many of them are depicted as telling humans to not be afraid. But if they are fearful and maddening to view in their true forms, it puts legends of certain ancient gods and H.P. Lovecraft’s insane horrors in a very different light. That said, angels are not infallible and they are not perfect. Too many of them have fallen or rebelled for that to be the case, and they have since been strictly limited in what they are and are not allowed to do, particularly in the world of the living. They are vulnerable to pride, lust, and envy, and possibly other sins, and their role in upholding reality means they can’t create too many ripples. Angels much prefer to work through other agents unless demons are involved. *Nephilim: “Now it came about, when men began to multiply on the face of the land, and daughters were born to them, that the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful; and they took wives for themselves, whomever they chose. Then the LORD said, "My Spirit shall not strive with man forever, because he also is flesh; nevertheless his days shall be one hundred and twenty years." The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of men, and they bore children to them. Those were the mighty men who were of old, men of renown.” – Genesis 6:1-4 Nephilim are the descendants of Angels (mainly the Grigori, or Watchers, an entire choir of angels who were supposed to guide, teach and protect humanity) and Humans. Apparently, the Grigori found human women attractive, and abandoned their divine mission to have lovers among the human population. Each of the Grigori supposedly shared divine secrets with humanity, perhaps secrets which mankind was not meant to know. Their offspring, the Nephilim, were usually described as giants (Goliath, for instance, is supposed to be a nephilim), and many of them lived in Canaan. There is some suggestion that the demigods (Heracles, Helen of Troy, Gilgamesh, etc) of other cultures were also nephilim, but records are scarce. Supposedly, the vast majority of Nephilim died out in the biblical flood, which was sent to wipe them from the earth after their culture had become corrupt and spread its influence to the surrounding human tribes. The Grigori themselves were “bound in the valleys of the earth, under darkness, until Judgment Day.” Without the Grigori to support them, and with their population almost wiped out, the Nephilim never really recovered as a civilization, though there is some suggestion that both royal bloodlines (especially those that espoused “Divine Right” to rule) and some of the more outrageous mutations in the human population are a result of lingering nephilim lineage. I find the theory that all gifted and talented people have Nephilim blood to be rather dismissive and belittling of the true gifts of humanity as a species, as well as grossly overestimating the number of nephilim that remain. According to the journal, only a few families remain that have even the potential to manifest nephilim genes, and of those that do, few every realize that potential. Many people in nephilim families go their entire lives without a clue that they are in any way different. Abilities-wise, Nephilim are gifted. They possess the human capacity for free will, and have no real weaknesses (though some have individual fatal flaws) aside from a tendency towards corruption and a feeling of discomfort with their status between humanity and angels (leading many to pursue apotheosis). Nephilim are stronger and have greater endurance than humans, and their lifespans can stretch for hundreds of years. Nephilim have a surprising presence that they are often not fully aware of, which might manifest as good looks, hideousness, charisma, leadership, or fading into the background. Nephilim also tend to have some sort of talent that is extremely powerful. All nephilim are immune to both human magics (many of which were originally taught by the Grigori) and other supernatural senses. Some scholars claim that this invisibility to scrying derives from nephilim being unnatural creatures who were never part of the Divine Plan. I wonder if perhaps, as links between both the physical and spiritual world, we somehow blend in. Nephilim also inherit some ability related to their ultimate angelic ancestor. For instance, my ancestor, Armaros taught men “the resolving of enchantments,” so I was able to alter and break some of Quincy Gosser’s spells. Another nephilim, descended from Chazaqiel or Azazel, might have some talent for manipulating the weather or weapons and armor and cosmetics and jewelry, respectively. Nephilim can sometimes manifest the natural powers of their angelic ancestors, but usually only if they encounter angels who unlock those powers. These powers include second sight/ESP, wings, a boost to strength and endurance, and heavenly fire and light. Nephilim also have the potential to hear and join the Chorus, a musical representation of reality itself, maintained by the angels. Those that can sing in this fashion are capable of altering the rules of the world around them, however, singing for unimportant reasons can draw negative attention from angels, and sometimes the rest of the Chorus opposes an individual song, rendering changes to reality impossible. Overuse of the Chorus is also possible, especially for beginners, and can make it difficult for a nephilim to sing without extensive periods of rest. Generally, alterations of the Chorus are subtle and temporary, and tend to involve changing the rules of a situation instead of raw creation or destruction (though such effects are possible). For instance, an angel using the Chorus to rescue a human from a burning building could rule that the inhabited parts of the building are fireproof and cool to the touch and smoke free for the duration of the human’s escape, only to collapse behind him once safely outside. A nephilim using the Chorus to create a vast fortune for herself would probably find the attempt exhausting and pointless (all the money might be monopoly money, or obvious counterfeits, or it might be stolen almost immediately). *Marilyn Monroe: ? I have my suspicions about “Marilyn,” but whatever she is (aside from related to me, somehow), there are currently too few clues to be certain. Sure, there are hundreds of supernatural women, witches, demons, goddesses, and spirits that assume female form out there. About the only thing I know about her is that she knows Azrael, has access to dragon’s blood, somehow knew what I’d been reading (or manipulated luck to cause me to read that reanimation spell), and can teleport both herself and other things. She seems to have some limitations involving how much she can influence people, so maybe she’s a fallen angel or demon of some sort? I admit I am somewhat loathe to go asking around, both because she is powerful enough to spook Gosser and I’d rather not antagonize her, and because I already found out I’ve got one of the Grigori in my background… I’m not sure I want to know just what else is hidden in my family tree. This post has been promoted to an article

Baring Bones: A Halloween Story - Chapter 3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 (and Bestiary Notes) ------------------------- I gradually regained some sense of self, feeling suspended in darkness. It was like being under water, except it lacked the joy I’ve always experienced swimming in pools or riding the waves in the ocean. Instead of that buoyancy, the weightlessness I was experiencing felt heavy, immobilizing me instead of enabling me to move in three dimensions. Nothing was visible except my own body, drifting helplessly. A sudden fear struck me. “Am I… dead?” Instantly the darkness boomed with a strangely familiar voice… the deepest and richest of the voices from the chorus earlier. “NO, CHILD, YOU ARE NOT DEAD… THOUGH NOT FOR LACK OF TRYING. YOUR BLOODLINE’S FIRST ATTEMPT AT JOINING THE CHOIR SINCE BEFORE THE DAWN OF HISTORY, AND YOU TRY TO REVERSE… WELL, ME? I KNOW THAT YOU HAVE BEEN TAUGHT NOTHING OF YOUR GIFTS, AND ARE ONLY LEARNING IN RESPONSE TO THE IMMEDIATE THREAT OF THE SPECTRE, BUT TRYING TO UNDO DEATH IS A LAST RESORT. LITERALLY.” My head pounded, both from the thunderous voice and my own condition. “So, you’re death, but I’m not dead? Is Claudia ok? Is Kellan?” “I AM… COMPLICATED. MY KIND DO NOT HAVE NAMES, ONLY TITLES. YOU MAY CALL ME THE HELPFUL ONE. YOU HAVE ASKED FOR HELP, AND IT HAS BEEN GRANTED. PART OF THAT ASSISTANCE IS THAT I WILL HELP RETURN YOU TO THE WAKING WORLD… BUT DO NOT RISK YOURSELF SO GREATLY IN THE FUTURE. CLAUDIA WILLIS IS ALIVE THANKS TO OUR INTERVENTION, BUT I WOULD NOT SAY SHE IS WELL. KELLAN IS CURRENTLY FREE OF THE SPECTRE’S CONTROL, BUT HE IS STILL A TARGET… AND THE LOST SOUL IS VERY CLOSE TO ACHIEVING HIS GOALS. YOU MUST LOCATE THE SPECTRE’S PHYSICAL REMAINS AND USE THEM TO SEPARATE HIM FROM HIS STOLEN POWER, AND SUMMON ME THROUGH THE CHORUS.” I was about to ask more questions, like “where are his physical remains” and “will this restore the drained partiers” and “what’ll happen to Kellan’s new muscles,” but suddenly the darkness lit, and I saw what I was talking to, and the sight was impossible, horrific, and strangely eye-catching! Hovering before me in the formerly lightless void was an enormous monster, whose body was made of billions of… eyes and tongues! Behind it, thousands of wings whirled as swiftly as a hummingbird’s, but I could somehow see all of them if I focused, making out every detail of red, green and silver feathers. An ancient-looking tome floated in front of it, and even as I watched, new words blazed onto the pages, as if being burned there by some unseen magnifying glass. Instead of a head, the monster had four faces, like floating masks. One was that of a child of indeterminate gender with faintly Asian or Native American features. The second was elderly and Caucasian, but so wrinkled with age that, again, I couldn’t tell if it was male or female. The third looked like an African or mixed heritage woman, with long hair that was braided on one side and cascaded loose on the other. The final face was my own, with a knowing smirk spread across his (my?) lips. All four faces opened their mouths, and the powerful voice spoke yet again, despite seeming to boom around me and not emerge from any of the lips. “TIME GROWS SHORT. YOU CANNOT REMAIN IN THIS STATE BETWEEN DEATH AND LIFE ANY LONGER WITHOUT PASSING ON PERMANENTLY, AND THERE ARE OTHER PLANS IN STORE FOR YOU. YOU WILL NEED THIS.” It began to sing, the music washing over me, and I found that I was wearing my costume wings, undamaged by the fishhooks, and that they spread, bearing me aloft on the river of sound, leaving the creature far behind. The next moment, I found myself in darkness again, but feeling something warm and hard cushioning and supporting me. I finally worked my eyes open, and found myself being held, bride-style, and nuzzled, by the new and improved Kellan, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his car. I twisted my head around and saw Claudia dozing on the back seat, but smiling, a healthy blush spread across her cheeks. Kellan shifted, and murmured as he came awake. “Heeyyyy… you’re awake. Feel ok?” He mumbled in my ear, making the hairs on the back of my neck raise in excitement. I couldn’t speak, but blushed and nodded. “Good.” He breathed in deeply, his beautiful face an inch from mine. “Thank you for saving Claudia and helping me yet again. I was out of control. But… you can’t hurt yourself. Whatever you just did, it nearly killed you… you weren’t breathing and didn’t have a heartbeat. I had to use CPR and rescue breathing on you until your chest started rising again. I brought us here to take a breather. But don’t you dare put yourself at risk like that again. What the hell happened? I thought I heard you humming and then you seemed to go into a trance. Then Claudia was healed and you came back for a moment before toppling over. Don’t do that to me again, man! I only just met you, and I want to keep you around for a looooong time.” I gulped at that last statement, but managed to nod in agreement. I then filled Kellan in on the out-of-body experience, the overwhelmingly beautiful chorus, and the insanity-inducing monster that helped me return Claudia to the world… and then did the same to me. At that point Kellan frowned. “Huh… I dozed off for a bit here in the car, and just woke up when you started stirring, so I didn’t notice it ‘til now… but your wings WERE tattered when I carried you here… and now they aren’t.” I froze at that revelation. “Really?” Kellan nodded, making the dark, wavy layers of his rock-star hair flop back and forth over his blue eyes. He reached out with his newly-muscled arm and pulled the door open, letting me slide out of his arms and stand (shakily) on my own two feet. The way he’d cradled my 6’2” frame in his football player’s arms was a bit weird, as I wasn’t used to being the shorter guy, much less being held by someone. However, as he stepped out of the car after me, I found myself looking up at a 7’1” hunk. He stretched, his biceps bulging in his torn black sleeves, his huge pecs warping the image of his costume’s ribcage, his nipples visibly erect through the fabric in the cool November air, and his shirt riding up to reveal his sculpted abs and a dark treasure trail showcased between his iliac furrow by his marble-pale skin. Once he finished stretching, he bent over, showing me the square shape of his muscle butt, while reaching into the car to retrieve my wings… good as new! “Weird,” I commented, running my fingers over the undamaged fabric of the black wings. “Just one more strange thing to add to an already bizarre evening.” Kellan nodded. “For sure. But hey man, it’s getting kinda chilly. I don’t think I’m feeling it as much as I should now that I’m supercharged with ghost lightning or whatever, but I bet you could use some more warmth. Lemme just get Claudia comfortable.” With that, he popped the trunk and grabbed some extra blankets, and quickly wrapped them around his girlfriend, making her shift and wake up, smile at him, and murmur something I couldn’t hear, before snuggling into the blankets as he closed the car to keep the cold air out. Kellan and I then headed up towards the bonfire. As we trudged uphill, I tilted my head and frowned, before asking, “You didn’t feel any drain, and Claudia was fine in the car? She didn’t get… sucked dry… like the other partiers?” Kellan shook his head back and forth, affirming that the instant-lifelessness effect I’d spotted earlier hadn’t occurred. “No… I didn’t feel anything, and Claudia’s fine. You didn’t see anything, did you?” After I confirmed that everything seemed fine when we were at the car, he relaxed. “I admit I was more focused on you and Claudia, so I wasn’t really looking around at anyone else… but now that you mention it, I didn’t hear any engines start or see any car lights. Maybe it’s just the fact that I was the one who opened the car, not Claudia, and this ghost thing needs me? Or maybe you burned it out back at the dance floor?” I shrugged, but then grimaced. “I wish… but you said you didn’t notice anyone leaving… I’d think that if the white flames had gotten rid of the ghost for good, they’d be back to normal. Besides… the big eyes-tongues-wings-faces creature said the ghost was still a threat.” As we approached the campfire, I could see the filaments of otherworldly light moving about … and somehow, I could hear them, like the hiss of the devil’s fiddle strings as he challenged Johnny for his soul. “And the threads of light are here, too… whatever’s going on, it’s not over,” I concluded. Kellan’s impressive shoulders slumped and he groaned in frustration. “Right. So, what’s the next step, besides getting toasty by the fire?” I blushed at the suggestion of “getting toasty” with the big guy, but tried to ignore it, hoping the darkness hid my reaction. “I’m not sure… the journal I found includes some descriptions about various supernatural effects and creatures, but aside from ghosts, I’m not really sure what to look for, and it’s not like this thing was written as an encyclopedia. Having to search through it… in Latin… is going to be time-consuming.” The bonfire’s warmth soaked into my skin, though the tinny noise of the glowing strings sent chills down my spine. Getting this close to the cords and knowing that I was the only one able to notice them was even more frightening than their deadliness. Kellan glanced in my direction, and he frowned, slinging a muscular arm over my shoulder, letting me lean back and rest my head on the curve of his bicep. “Hey, Angelo,” he asked in his richer, more resonant voice “Are you ok? If you’re still out of it from singing for Claudia or whatever it was you did, we could go to the main house instead and get you a couch to lie down on or something.” “Thanks,” I replied. “But I’m ok… it’s just creepy to see what I’m seeing, with the strings and all. I’m ok… just uneasy.” Kellan nodded, and squeezed my shoulder. “Ok… we can work with that.” He then shot an oddly mischievous look at me, and grinned. “Wanna hear what making out with Claudia felt like?” Assuming that non-sequitur was Kellan’s somewhat hearty, boyish way of distracting me with a change of subject, I shrugged and nodded. He seemed to take an almost puppylike glee in his new body and increased sexuality, and that excited energy seemed odd coming from a guy as big as a horse. I wondered just how greatly his personality and attitudes and even language had changed over the events of this evening. They way he was currently acting was a far cry from the terse, unwelcoming indie guy earlier. If we couldn’t figure out what was going on, how much more would he change? If we did solve the mystery, would he even want to go back? Before I could ponder these questions further, he began to speak, and I focused on his deep voice. “It was WILD, man,” the big guy enthused, his pale cheeks becoming slightly flushed, his eyes fluttering shut as he sank into the memory of his powerful body pressed against his girlfriend. “They were playing our song… ‘Beyond’ by Butterfly Three-Way. It was booming from the speakers and the air was hot as people danced around us. Claudia leaned against me and tossed her hair back, and my hands slid down her shoulders, feeling how fragile and tiny they seemed under my big hands. She smelled soooo good… shampoo with violets and cherries, perfume with I don’t know what in it, and all that.” As if being drawn back to that moment, he breathed deeply, his huge boxer’s chest inflating, the black fabric with painted-on ribcage stretching to try and accommodate the bulging muscles as they expanded. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that his muscles weren’t the only things expanding. In the glow of the bonfire, the black lycra of his pants shifted, and his already visible bulge started to grow larger and thicker as it stretched towards his right thigh. His voice, now sounding huskier than before, picked up again. “She pressed against my body, man, and she cooed… she actually cooed… when she felt how hard I was… I am. She said that she wanted to drive me over the edge right then and there… purred it into my ear, and then she raised her arms as if she wanted to be picked up. I could never do that before, but now, it just seemed right, like I’d always been able to do it… and like I’d done it a hundred times. I reached down, felt how light she was in my arms, and lifted her up to my chest. Feeling her body clinging to mine… it was soooo fucking hot, dude! Almost literally… I felt like I was on fire, or in a desert, or something, and every nerve was alive! It was freakin’ intense!” Now his stance had widened, and his package (still barely wrapped) was straining away from his body. Some of the girls (dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow, Edward Scissorhands, Mad Hatter, Sweeney Todd, and Willy Wonka) seemed to have noticed, and were gossiping behind their hands and occasionally pointing at him, while others were fanning their faces and blushing, or looking longingly at it. Kellan took no notice, though his breathing was heavier, his face was flushed, and a trickle of sweat was running down his forehead. I also noticed that, despite the heat of the bonfire, his nipples were erect, and clearly visible as they pressed against the fabric of his costume. He reached up a big hand seemed to almost caress his pecs for a moment, before sliding his long, thick fingers down over his abs, brushing them over the fur of his treasure trail. Then, his hand froze and he went still. Kellan took a deep breath, then another, and then a third, before he was able to speak. “I… I think that’s when the thing… the mist, ghost thing… I think that’s when it struck. I just found myself unable to stop. It’s like nothing else mattered except feeling good and getting off… as hard as I could. I think I forgot Claudia even existed, except as a fuck toy or something. I’m… I’m not like that… I’m not!” Then he paused, before asking, “… am I?” Taking a deep breath to bring myself back from watching Kellan actually turn himself on, I collected my thoughts before speaking. “No… I don’t think you are someone who treats others as… uh… fuck toys. I think that, while you do like yourself this way, mostly, and you do like growing… that the ghost is trying to use you somehow… and its selfishness is overwhelming your normal personality while it tries to remake you. I think that if we can get rid of the ghost, you’ll be no more of a danger to society than… well, anyone else.” Kellan’s face broke out into a gentle grin. “Thanks Angelo… just hearing you think things through makes the whole situation a lot better. I’m glad I’ve got you watching my back.” He pulled me into a lingering, if one-armed, hug, and then leaned back. “So, what should we do first? Any other spots on the property you want to check out that might be haunted?” Just then, one of the guys by the fire, well into his cups and dressed like Super Mario, pushed his friend (dressed like Wayne from Wayne’s World), who pitched forward dramatically, almost knocking into me and spilling unidentifiable alcohol everywhere. I saw “Wayne” coming towards me, drops of liquid from his cup moving through the air in what seemed like slow motion before falling into the bonfire and making it blaze upward in a sudden burst of flames. At that moment, though I was off balance and leaning precariously towards the fire, I felt powerless… there was no music, no altered consciousness, no change in the sinister ribbons of light… just me, a mere mortal. However, if I was a mere mortal, that couldn’t be said for Kellan. His powerful arms slid down me and gripped my hips, lifting me up in the air and back from the flames… and a good two feet off the ground… without raising a sweat, before placing me on his shoulder. His skin was flushed, but not with exertion… he was angry! “WHAT THE HELL,” he roared at the drunk guys, so loudly that I thought for a second that the flames cringed and blew in the opposite direction, as if from a strong wind. “YOU’RE PLAYING AROUND A BONFIRE? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MINDS? MY FRIEND COULD’VE BEEN BURNED!” The guys visibly quailed before the force of Kellan’s ire, but tried to drunkenly bluff their way through it. “C’mon mannn… we were jus’ havin’ fun. No harm meant,” slurred the one who’d done the initial pushing. His friend, however, wasn’t quite so smart. Filled with liquid courage, “Wayne” retorted, “’Sides, you may be big, but if you’re an ass bandit, you should get out of the way of a real man, fucker.” The conversation and laughs and exclamations of shock around the bonfire went silent. The “Mario” went white and tugged on his homophobic pal’s shoulder, trying to pull him back. But it was too late. Kellan took in a deep breath, the only sound besides the cackling of the flame to pierce the leaden silence. When he spoke, his words were measured but echoing, as if it was taking all of his musician’s eloquence and impressive restraint to speak calmly and not simply punch the guy… which, given the fact that he’d cracked a wall when he was less built, would be a very bad thing. “One. Gay people are real men and women. Two. They do not have to get out of the way of anyone, just because he thinks he’s hot stuff. Three. I’m not just big… I’m stronger than five of your drunken asses. Four. I’m not gay, but I have responsible, sober friends, including my pal here, who are. My friends are important to me. Five. If I see or hear of you mistreating anyone else at this party, it’ll go badly for you. Very badly.” “Wayne” clearly didn’t have a clue (or had pickled his brain cells) because he actually dared to retort, “Oh yeah? This’ a free country, you freak. What’re you gonna do about it? You lay a finger on me and I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re throwing your weight around.” From my perch on Kellan’s brawny shoulder, I could actually see his handsome face stretch into a smile that could’ve come from the same grave as his costume. “I don’t have to touch you, asshole. I’m stronger than that.” I felt his sinewy frame shift under me, and looking down, realized that he was raising his foot, almost in a bizarrely muscular parody of Captain Morgan… and then he slammed it down! Resting on his broad shoulder, I felt only a momentary shift of hard muscle beneath me, and Kellan had been braced for the force by his own power. Everything around us fared much worse, as a shockwave appeared to spread out from Kellan’s thunderous footstep, causing the logs of the bonfire to collapse in on themselves, sending sparks blazing high into the night sky and knocking Wayne, Mario, the assorted female Johnny Depps, and the other people around the fire to the ground. Squeals and shouts of shock and outrage, spilled drinks, and a cloud of dirt fill the air, though not high enough to reach me, perched on top of Kellan’s 7 foot body. “Now,” boomed Kellan’s voice. “Apologize. Or. Get. The. Hell. Away. From. US!” The drunken jerk from earlier scrambled, almost crab-walking, to back away from my new friend as if the hounds of hell were after him, and his friend split as well. The conversation picked up again as Kellan reached up and gently lowered me to the ground, and looked me over, as if examining me for any damage. “Hey, sorry about that, Angelo…” he murmured, leaning down to bring his face closer to mine. “I’m sure you could’ve handled that punk, but he got on my nerves. Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you when I picked you up or something, did I?” I finally got my tongue to work, and stammered, “ Uh... n-no, b-but, GEEZ! When did you figure out you could do that with one stomp of your foot?” My “hero” frowned, looking throughtful. “Huh… I don’t know… I mean, obviously I’m way stronger than I should be, even with these muscles,” he continued as he flexed one of his biceps, showing off the veins snaking across the muscle. “But I just suddenly knew I could do that... creepy!” The sight of the hunk shuddering at his uncanny knowledge of his abilities broke the image of the furious Hercules from a few moments ago, and I had to smile even as I thought about the possibilities. “Huh… the monster I encountered said that the ghost had goals involving you, and that’s why it keeps going after you… maybe it’s trying to prepare you for something it wants you to do? So it’s giving you these abilities and the knowledge … muscle memory, maybe… to use them? Can you think of anything else that you can do with your strength?” Kellan closed his eyes and seemed to take a moment of thought, before shaking his head. “No… I don’t think I even knew I could do that foot-stomp thing until I was angry enough to do it. If I can do other stunts like that, I don’t think I’ll know about it until they come up somehow.” Then we were interrupted, as one of the ladies (dressed as Victor from the Corpse Bride) came forward, blushing through her pale makeup, and said, “That was pretty awesome, the way you stood up to that jerk. He’s been hitting on my friends and I all night, and it’s cool that your friend has someone like you to look out for him.” Kellan smiled down at her, and chuckled. “Nah, you got it all wrong… this guy’s my guardian angel… he looks out for me. I just try to return the favor when I can.” He then nodded to me, “Hey, Angelo, do the wing thing!” Always willing to show off my costume, I tugged the strings that caused my dark wings to unfold and fan the air, and the girl clapped enthusiastically. “That’s incredible! Can you guys take a picture with my friends and I?” Kellan laughed this time. “Sure… though I gotta warn you, I’ve got a girlfriend, and my pal here appreciates the, uh, less-fine sex, as you might’ve overheard.” There was a lot of booing and teasing and pouty faces (seeing Captain Sparrow pout through fake facial hair was somewhat unnerving), but we all lined up and the girls roped a passing witch into taking pictures of the whole group, facing the fire. The light hurt my eyes a bit, and I had to force myself to keep from squinting, holding my face in a wide, fragile-seeming smile. Surrounded by the enthusiasm of the girls, with Kellan by my side, I felt glad that I’d come to the party, even if it’d been one weird event after another, and began to relax… a moment too soon. As the girls dispersed, the fire abruptly blazed green, and from their depths emerged a spindly, wraithlike figure of emerald luminescence. With long, wickedly taloned fingers and skeletal features, it reached out towards me… or towards Kellan. Its claws poured jade fire towards my new friend, and I tried to deflect them, only to see the streams separate and slide around my outstretched arm, like a river moving around a stone! I looked around, hoping that the ghost’s public actions would attract some attention from the others, but the Johnny Depp Girls had all gone inside to get new drinks, and the new people standing around the bonfire didn’t seem to notice anything awry, going about their business and joking, drinking, and huddling by the unnatural flames as if this happened all the time. Kellan moaned throatily as the flames poured into him, so deeply it was almost like the rumbling growl of a lion. “Oh yeah… feels… so fucking gooood!” As I turned towards him, I could see his skin crawling as the muscles underneath swelled and shifted, faster than before! Slices of his black shirt began to tear, showing glimpses of pale skin underneath that became more and more striated with muscle. “C’mon Kellan, last time I couldn’t free you because you were into it… don’t lose me here. I need you to resist it if we’re going to stop it,” I murmured, trying to build up my rage and direct it at the green energy. Kellan just shook his head and looked down at me as he began to grow taller. “Angelo, I don’t want to stop it. God, this feels fan-TAS-tic! Look at me. LOOK AT ME,” he crowed as his muscles rippled. He now stood about two feet taller than most of the other party guests, and was about twice as thick as any of them, with huge muscles that resembled those of a massive football player, with some elements of powerlifter from the sheer size of his muscles thrown in as well. Looking down, I saw that his crotch was noticeably growing erect… and Kellan was now massively hung, if the imprint of his cock as it strained against the costume’s fabric was anything to go by. As my poor brain tried to wrap around the concept that my new friend was turning himself on as his body grew, Kellan seemed to come to a decision, heralded by another shuddering groan. “That’s it. I can’t stand this. I need to act on my horniness… and I’ve been wanting to do this for awhile!” His hands were larger than they’d been when he’d lifted me out of the way earlier, but they were at least as fast. I found myself lifted off my feet again, clasped against the biggest, tallest, most muscular guy I’d ever seen or heard of, and felt his lips press against mine. I swear I saw fireworks. His strength was tremendous, and his muscles were hard, but his lips were… teasing, gentle, playful, sweet, exploring, caressing, warm, soft, and inviting. His entire body as he moaned with satisfaction, almost purring as he deepened the kiss. He was supporting my weight with one hand clasped over my butt, clutching my black jeans between the folds of my wingtips, while the other hand stroked through my curls, cradling my skull. The kiss was powerful and unasked for… but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome, just unexpected. It was clearly driven by his changing hormones, but it was an act that was filled with emotion and intimacy as well as hunger. I began to kiss back… and surrendering my higher thoughts to make way for my increasing attraction to Kellan finally broke through the block keeping me from converting the ghost’s energies. Instead of wrath, I drew on the passion, the lust, the connection between the two of us, and I could hear a higher, flutelike music trickling from the Choir’s realm as I felt the white flames blaze through our embrace, while the ghost’s howls (sounding faintly like “What continues to thwart my efforts to possess this host?!) faded away around us. Kellan slowly lowered me away from his lips, his eyes still shut. His breathing was heavy, but he didn’t seem to be as crazed as before. I placed my hand over his huge chest, and felt his heart pounding. “Kellan,” I murmured. “Are you ok?” He nodded, then murmured. “I’m sorry, Angelo. That was… it was… I…” He stopped and gathered his breath, his huge lungs inflating and his sculpted chest rising in response. “Ok… let me try that again. I could tell you were interested in me from the moment you complimented my costume. It’s just a skeleton suit… nothing special except that it’s skintight. You have moving wings. You complimenting me is like a bonfire complimenting a candle flame. The only appeal was my body. And yeah, it was a bit creepy of you, but you were cool about it. But before this spook started messing with my body, I hadn’t really been attracted to guys… or at least, not enough to ever want to act on it. Then… I started growing, and you were always there. My senses are stronger now… more vivid, I guess, and I can always tell where you are anywhere on this property. Now I’m the creepy guy, because this whole situation is creepy, and you’re there for me, and god, do I ever need to get off badly… you look and smell sooo good, and your voice makes my heart speed up when you talk, even if you’re getting all cerebral or goofy. I’m still just as into Claudia… god I want to fuck her… but I’ve reached the point where I’m so horny I’m, looking at guys and going ‘Why not? He’d be a good lay’ … and I’m sure you’d blow my mind. And when those girls were around us, I wanted to get naked with them as well… and you… I just wanted all of us to go off somewhere, strip out of our costumes and go crazy! Heck, I was even curious about getting with those drunken jerks earlier, even when I was yelling at them.” As he trailed off, I wondered about those ideas. “Hey, do you think your personality and mind is changing? You seem to be more interested in me, like you mentioned, but how about your memories and other interests? Claudia seemed to have her memories of what you looked like when she first met you altered. Claudia said you met in Econ class, you still remember your band and the songs you play, the chords and all that?” He frowned and closed his eyes in concentration, before nodding. “Yeah… I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my memory, though I’ll need a bigger, more resilient guitar if I’m going to play with the band anymore. I can still picture where my fingers need to be, play the songs in my head, etc. And we did meet in Econ, but I wasn’t built at all, despite what she said. But as for my personality… yeah, maybe. I always figured myself for a one-woman guy, but now… I guess I’m bisexual, and I’m not sure I’d be satisfied sticking with just one person… at least, not for sex. I feel like I still want to spend the rest of my life with someone, but maybe it should be more than one someone.” He took that moment to meet my eyes. “I should be embarrassed by showing off all this skin, and wearing clothes this tight and tattered, but I’m proud of it… I want to show off. I barely want to wear clothes at all.” In the echoing silence from Kellan’s last statement, I realized that it was weirdly quiet. “Uh… is everyone staring at you holding me in the air,” I asked tentatively. He tore his gaze from my face and went still, his eyes wide. “Uh, no… it’s worse.” He lowered me to the ground and I turned around… and saw that everyone around the campfire was slumped over on the ground, drained of their lives. I felt like I was going to be sick, and the ripples of red light centered on the flames continued to dance menacingly across my vision. “Oh Angelo,” Kellan murmured, his powerful voice throaty and wobbling from shock and regret. “I-I did this? I hurt everyone here just so that I could grow bigger and get hornier?” “No,” I insisted. “This isn’t your doing or your fault. You’re just as much a victim as they are… and it’s time to stop being victimized and get proactive about saving them! It sounds like there’s music going on inside, and I can see people dancing by the windows, so not everyone’s gone… and look, the hayride’s coming around, so obviously it’s still being piloted by someone and still has living passengers. I think that means we still have time. We need to find the body of this jerk ghost and send him to the monster, and hopefully he’ll be able to help us return everyone to normal… ok?” Kellan nodded, still looking shaky, but with increased determination in his eyes. “Can… can we check on Claudia first? I need to know if she’s still alive. I know my new… urges… make me not the best boyfriend ever, but I still love her.” Geez, the guy had to be going through a rough time, what with all of this going on. Who’d have thought that having a superhuman body would come with so many awful strings attached? I nodded, saying, “Sure, let’s go. She probably shouldn’t be left in the car for so long, even if she was sleeping.” We didn’t have to go far, however… Claudia met us halfway. “Oh, there you guys are,” she said, yet again seeming to not notice Kellan’s new growth spurt. “Thanks for letting me get some rest… I needed it. How’s the party so far? Everything I’ve seen seems like it’s quieting down.” Kellan and I exchanged a glance, and then I said, “About that… there’s something you should know.” Before I could spill the beans, however, the hayride pulled up, letting off its (thankfully mobile) passengers and looking for others to get on. “Ooooh, hold that thought, Alfredo,” Claudia said, holding up one skeleton-painted nail on her index finger while I ground my teeth at her inability to remember my name. “Kel, can we do the hayride? It’s been too crowded all night, and I wanted to try it out… it’s finally thinned out… looks like we’re the only ones who want to do it now.” I was going to interject by describing how the hayride was really just a boring ride around the edges of the property which had some Halloween decorations hanging from trees… no monsters or chainsaw murderers jumping out at you, no cool displays, just a ride in a tractor-pulled wagon. However, with an apologetic look at me and a shrug of his huge shoulders, Kellan said, “Sure, babe. Angelo, you want to come with? We can fill her in on the weird stuff going on during the ride.” Claudia was shooting a death glare at me (I did feel like a bit of a jerk for making out with her boyfriend a few minutes ago) and switching it to a pout when Kellan turned to look at her, but this nightmare was really more important than giving her time to get busy with and possibly drive my new friend to put her in a coma again, so I nodded my assent, and we all climbed onboard. The hayride had wooden planks as a floor, with a metal frame around it. Bales of hay lined the middle, but the sides of the hayride had some pews taken from the chapel. The top of the metal frame was lined with interconnecting black ropes, designed to look like a spider’s web, and spiders, bats, and pumpkins of various sizes were hanging from the railings or the web. As the engine started and the hayride took off, rumbling down the dirt path, towards the road, past the cars draped with drained bodies, a sense of foreboding began to fall over me. I was missing something… but I wasn’t going to leave Kellan (and Claudia) alone to figure it out. Kellan was filling Claudia in on all the supernatural events, but it was slow going. It seemed like the ghost had really messed with her head. “So…” Kellan was saying. “Do you remember the day we met?” Claudia smiled. “How could I forget? I went to the gym with my friends and there you were, pumping away. I spilled my water bottle all over myself just staring at you, and you were so nice and offered me your towel to dry off… along with your number. When I found out that you were a musician as well, it just made you seem even more amazing!” Kellan and I gaped at Claudia as she blithely related all this stuff about them that apparently had never happened, while the hayride rumbled past the fields and towards the tree line. Then a searing flash of red light struck the front of the tractor, and the hayride rumbled off the front of the path straight towards the trees! Claudia screamed, I gripped the railing to brace myself, and Kellan… suddenly wasn’t there. With a speed that defied the eye, he leapt from the hay bale, tore off the spider web ceiling, somersaulted out of the wagon and over the tractor, and took the entire machine straight into his prodigious pecs. The entire ride rocked, and I just managed to grab hold of Claudia before we hit. “GUYS,” Kellan roared, his voice booming. “I’VE GOT THIS, BUT CAN YOU COME AND SHUT IT OFF? I CAN’T BE IN TWO PLACES AT ONCE!” Making sure Claudia was unhurt, I climbed out and clambered up into the tractor wagon, fiddling around with the switches and levers (hey, I’ve never driven a tractor… I’m a suburb kid) while I tried not to be distracted by the sight of Kellan’s muscles flexing and throbbing beneath the tattered remnants of his costume, which now barely covered his crotch and upper chest. The sleeves had ripped off, letting his thickly muscled arms bulge as they held back an entire tractor, and his enormous height made him almost eye level as I was sitting in the tractor seat. Finally, I managed to shut it off, and my huge friend released the tractor, while we all paused to catch our breaths. “What happened,” he finally asked. “I saw a red light, like back at the manor, lash out here,” I replied. “But I have no idea where the driver’s body is.” “Back there,” came the strained, frightened voice of Claudia from behind us. We turned and saw her, shivering and rubbing her arms nervously. “He was all gray and dead-looking… I… I think he rolled out of the tractor when he died.” She then ran into Kellan’s arms, and he lifted her into a comforting embrace. I noticed more of the red lights, rippling in the darkness. “Guys, I think there’s something over here causing the red light… stay back… we don’t need you growing out here, Kellan, and Claudia, it could target you next. If anything comes for you, call out, and I’ll be there ASAP.” Before they could object, I stumbled through the underbrush, eventually emerging in a clearing filled with rocks. In the moonlight, the rocks seemed oddly shaped and oddly white. I leaned forward for a better look and gasped, scrambling backwards until I collided with something warm. I looked up and saw Kellan there, steadying me. “What’s wrong, Angelo?” I mutely waved at the clearing. “It’s bones… it’s full of bones!” He looked up and stepped forward. “I’ve never seen this stuff here, and I used to explore these woods with my cousins all the time,” he said. I looked around and asked, “Could the recent storms have washed away the soil?” He shrugged, then crouched down, showing off his v-shaped back and his perfect muscle butt, but his words stopped me from salivating too much. “I don’t think these are human bones… or not exactly.” He waved me over, and, taking a closer look, I could tell what he was getting at. One of the skulls had short horns. What I’d taken for hands appeared to be oddly-shaped claws. I saw some structures that resembled the wings of bats, and others that looked like elongated horse or canine skulls, or long snakelike tails. The skin and organs were all long gone, and they’d clearly been there longer than I’d been alive, but they also seemed oddly well-preserved, like some sort of elephant’s graveyard for supernatural creatures. Then it clicked for me. “The journal… it said that this place, the church camp that used to be here, was actually some sort of witch hunting inquisition thing. The author, Quincy Gosser, claimed to have killed all kinds of monsters… maybe this is where he buried them?” Kellan shuddered. “I kinda wish he was still around. I bet he’d be able to handle the ghost.” Then he caught sight of an extremely large humanlike skeleton. “Or maybe I’m personally better off with him in the grave.” Then the cold became bitter, as if the heat was sucked out of us. I saw the red lights begin to dance around us, and heard footsteps. Kellan and I turned to see Claudia walking towards us, smiling… with glowing green eyes. “’Tis funny that you shoulde say that,” she said with a weirdly dual voice, both her own, and one that sounded male and older and old-fashioned. “Because I am sore tired of the grave, lad, and your body will be my ticket out of it.” With that, dark green flames poured from her body and washed over Kellan. They seemed to burn endlessly, and I couldn’t get close… until the flames left Claudia, lying in a gray-skinned, lifeless heap, and pulsed across Kellan’s body. His eyes took on that green glow, and he turned to me, a wicked smile spreading across his face even as his muscles began to swell again. “There you are… finally, I have human flesh again, and actually perceive you, Abomination. I am sure that your sacrifice will give me the power to extend my abilities across the world, just as the lives of every drunken fool on this property have enabled me to possess one of my descendents and remake his form. Let the world welcome back the great Quincy Gosser!” This post has been promoted to an article

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

Day 43 It had been a whirlwind week since Colin "borrowed" my car keys. There had been a subtle but noticeable shift in our relationship. Colin was getting more assertive about his workouts and diet. And even though I was still putting together his workout plans day by day, really, all I was doing was writing down what he told me to. Clearly he had been paying attention to my workouts all these years, and he was much more knowledgeable than I realized. And the workouts seemed to be benefiting both of us. Colin was getting stronger, there was no doubt, and I was gaining mass as well. I was pleased to feel my jeans looser in the waist, even though I had gained 6 pounds. 6 feet tall, 186 pounds, it was probably the best shape I had ever been in. I was planning to visit my grandparents for a few days. Before I left, Colin asked me to review his workout plans. I sat in my bedroom and flipped through the tattered notebook we had been using to keep track of his progress. Day 3, bench press, 85 lbs, Colin struggled to complete 6 reps. Day 7, bench press, 95 lbs, Colin finished 8 reps, out of breath, but ready to take on more Day 15, bench press, 135 lbs, Colin easily finished 12 reps Day 24, bench press, 155 lbs, Colin easily finished 15 reps Day 35, bench press, 175 lbs, Colin easily finished 12 reps If I hadn't been present for all those workouts, I never would have believed that progress. An 85lb bench press to 175 lbs in just over a month? It was remarkable. My own bench press PR was 245, and Colin was quickly closing in on that record. Colin sauntered into my room as I was getting my bag packed. He leaned against the door frame, of which he was filling more and more, and went through the training plan. He was still wearing the hoody, so my only visual measure of his progress was the size of his forearms, which had filled out and solidified like steel cables. And then I noticed his neck. I could see his traps leading up from his back to a newly thickened, very solid neck. It was the type of neck you saw on professional football players, the guys who can never get their dress shirts to button all the way up. I have no other way of explaining it. By instinct, again, I looked at my neck in the mirror, then back at his. He noticed me doing it, and just smiled. "You look surprised Greg." "Colin." I stumbled for some words, and then tried to change the subject. "I wrote out your training plan, and remember to eat." As if he needed to be reminded of that. I was nervously packing my bag, and I tried to pass him in the doorway to get to the hall closet. But his frame blocked me, again. He just stood there casually, and said "Greg, you have pretty big hands, right? I remember how you always needed a special baseball glove." I nodded yes. And in fact, I did have fairly large hands. It was one of the qualities that made me an outstanding third baseman. "Do you want to see how those hands measure up now Greg?" I was flustered and tried to move past him, but he wasn't budging. "Colin, yes I noticed your neck. But I don't have time for this now. I have to get on the road before dark." He reached his hands down to mine, again grabbing both my wrists. I knew fighting him was futile, but I tried anyway. Without even trying, he moved my hands up, and held them right at his collar bone. "Go ahead Greg. See how those mitts of yours measure up now." He stretched his neck up for effect. I was still a few inches taller than Colin. Emboldened by that advantage, I reached a hand over and placed it on his neck. I squeezed a bit, and honestly, it felt like steel, there was no give at all. And then Colin moved my other hand up. "Try with both hands now Greg. Tighter." And with both my hands on his neck, I realized they did not fit. I tried to squeeze, but it was like squeezing a fire hydrant. He just kept saying "Try tighter Greg," as I failed to make even a dent in the thick muscle he had seemingly willed to grow. His neck was incredibly massive, and powerful enough to tire my hands. I just pulled away and said "Okay, you made your point Colin." And he let me pass into the hallway. Making no further mention of his thick neck or my newly powerless hands, Colin just waved the notebook and said "I'll stick to the plan Greg. Seems to be working, no?" "Yes it is Colin. I will see you in a few days." I paused and looked at him, proud of his accomplishments. "We are almost halfway to the 90 day point Colin." Colin just laughed hard, clapped a hand onto my shoulder, and ushered me out of the room. "Yeah, I might need 90 days Greg." I couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but soon I was in my car, on my way to my grandparents. "See you on Day 48 Greg," his words to me as I pulled away, kept ringing in my head.

If you are new to the story and wondering where to find parts 1-7, they are all posted under Beyond Sexy. Part 8: The Gathering Waking up the first thought to race though my head is, 'Today is the day'. When an unusual amount of energy, I breeze through my morning routine only find myself with nothing to do afterwards. No classes on Fridays and no more jobs either. Suddenly my extra energy disappears as I walk to my computer room, and come lens to crotch with my custom built camera. The entire room becomes somber, as the past two months flashes through my head. After having a computer installed, I learned that several clients and various other individuals had secretly recorded me and posted the videos and/or pictures online. Irritated by the lack and disregard for personal privacy, but left with a stack of jobs for a month, I decided to continue working, if only a while longer. Once first month ended, my phone blew up with calls requesting my services. Only each caller was informed that due to repeated violation of privacy, those services would no longer be offered, and then I hung up. Without a source of employment, I only left my home to attend classes and to buy groceries and gas. Naturally the number of videos and pictures featuring me decreased, at least initially. However after about a week, I noticed people being less discrete about recording me, fellow students would wait in their cars and attempt to follow me home, and during the middle of the night, Ryder and Admiral would often scare away house watchers. One night, I woke to the sound of a man screaming in agony. By the time I finished ducking and turning through all the doors, and stood outside, I found nothing other than Admiral and Ryder barking and pawing at my gate; there was blood dripping down Admiral's mouth. Knowing it was only a matter of time before somebody decided to hurt, or perhaps kill, my pets, I decided to give in. Unsure where to begin, I called up an electronics manufacturing company, threw my name around, and a week later a large package was delivered to my door. Inside was a specially built camera; very large and elegant, but with only a handful of oversized buttons for my oversized fingers. Included in the box were various accessories and a manual. I breezed through the manual, and laughed at the situation. Despite having some sort of camera focused on me for most of my life, I had never actually held one in my hand. The first video was simple, just undressing to my boxer briefs. I was somewhat nervous, but the camera didn't show that, it showed a living breathing statue moving as if it were water. The video didn't even require editing. I set up a website, and up loaded the video. The site crashed an hour later. In need of assistance, I started an official company and hired dozens of people to run it. They did an amazing job fixing the website, and even had to build extras to in order to meet the demand for the videos. Because the sites run off a subscription model, after the first few days I became one of the wealthiest people on the globe, even though the fee is small. With so much money, I donated to some charities; for once money flowed out of my hands to other people. Due to the short time frame, I don't have an exact numbers for how many registered users visit my sites or how much money they have generated. In truth I don't want to know, that's why I hired dozens of people to oversee the day to day operation and finances of the company. Leaving the room, I wander into the living room. The weather is continuously getting colder and colder, harsh winds have started blowing across the county. Some days all the windows and cars in the area are covered with a film of ice. Today the film is a little thicker, and the early morning new weather reports shows that, the weather is unusually cold for this time of year. Turning off the television, I walk to the back yard to feel the cold air. For some reason I've always loved winter, the low temperatures, the icy winds, and the holidays, or rather I used to love the holidays. My train of thought is interrupted by Ryder and Admiral suddenly running out of their dog houses, and jump at me. They can't reach my head, because my pecs and height, so I take a knee, but they are relentless. As Ryder licks my face, Admiral tries to push my torso. Then the duo switches roles, until I finally receive the message. Carefully, I lie on the frozen glass; my body heat almost immediately melts the ice and the water is soaked up in to my clothing. The dogs are on top now, licking and slobbering all over my face. After a few moments, I stick my forearms under their bodies and carefully wrestle them on to the ground, then tickle their bellies. Time just flies by, as man and beasts wrestle, but during the entire stretch there is a fear in the back of my mind. Ryder and Admiral tire out and run inside to eat, leaving me outside with my thoughts. Great Danes and Dobermans are big dogs, strong too, but I've long see since been able to bench press massive super duty trucks. I'm not even sure about the upper limits of my strength anymore, and yet I roll around in the grass for hours with animals I could very easily hurt. In my hands just about anything is fragile, but I have control, for now at least. However, I keep getting bigger and stronger. How much longer before I can't be careful? And even if I'm always careful of my strength, accidents can and do happen. Not wanting to consider the possibilities, my mind wanders to other matters. My clothes are completely wet and covered in glass strains. Throwing caution to the wind, I cross my arms at the hem of my shirt and slowly pull off my long sleeved shirt and under shirt. In the process my pecs expand, and bounce up and down a few times. Standing shirtless in the cool air doesn't make me cold, maybe it's because my body gives off so much heat. The air currents bend around my warm body, leaving a ticking sensation; it's pleasant. I wonder if there is anybody watching from afar. Actually if anybody was watching, he or she is probably writhing around uncontrollably orgasming at the sight of my naked torso. Not wanting to add to the show, I walk into the house to change clothing and wash my face. All the clocks say it is 10:34. Needing to kill some time, I wonder around the house cleaning and rearranging furniture. Then going on the internet, cooking an early lunch, and again to the internet to discover that nobody has yet posted any videos about me. If anybody had been watching earlier, he or she would have posted it by now. The right corner of my lips curls up to from a half smile. The sensation was strange, almost foreign after months of wearing a poker face. It's such a stupid and absurd thing to be happy about on the surface, not having one's picture posted, but to me the feeling is exhilarating. Ironically, I want to take my picture to myself, since I don't have any. Not a single picture showing a genuine smile. Back in the kitchen Ryder and Admiral are lying down on the floor; maybe it's getting too cold for them. I make a mental note to stop by a pet supply store and buy some dog mattress. Taking a knee, I scratch behind their ears and say goodbye. The drive to the university is slightly longer than usual. The sky is dark with thick gray clouds. A fierce wind begins hitting the side of my truck, rattling the windows. Before even arriving at the university, I hear a howling sound, not from animals, but from the wind blowing between the buildings. The grounds are eerie quite; there isn't a single person outside. The professor parking lot behind the science building is completely full, which only leaves a student parking lot located about five hundred feet away. That too is surprisingly full, for a Friday. All the spots nearest the building are completely full. There are some spaces in the middle of the lot, but reluctantly I park at the edge of lot. Cursing the fact that if I park next to another vehicle, I won't be able to open the door enough to exit. Walking toward the building, blasts of air bombard my body, almost as if trying to tear it down, but they don't hinder it in the slightest. Nearing the building I see a group of four young women, probably twenty or twenty-one years of age, standing by the door. They shake and move their hands around talking about the weather, then stop dead upon seeing my body approach them. The doors slide open, I walk right past them. One of them falls to her knees, a familiar smell enters my nostrils as a pass her. The others stare red faced and glossy eyed; none of them are even close to reaching the bottom of my pecs. The lobby is huge, like a concert hall. The walls of various shades of earthy yellows and browns, potted plants are carefully arranged around cushions and pillars. Counting the women, there are only ten people in the lobby, all staring. My long legs take long strides down a hall toward the end of the building, where I find a staircase and an elevator. I need to get to the seventh floor, but taking the elevator means crouching down the entire time, and then there's the risk of somebody else entering. So that means taking the stairs, fortunately my long legs allow me to move at three or four step increments. Unfortunately, my feet are so long that each step leaves me with only half a shoe on the floor and the other half in the air. The initial steps are awkward, but eventually my body adjusts to having less surface area on the floor to balance the its weight. It hardly takes me anytime to walk up the stairs; cautiously I walk around the top floor. Same color scheme as below, tons of cushions spread about, trash cans, tables, metal chairs, nothing special. For some reason somebody put up a double door right in the middle of the building. The doors are held open by a set of pegs, and the doorway is probably six or seven feet long, enough to accommodate the width of the doors. I bend my knees and walk for those six or seven feet and across a curved hall to find a group of students siting around a table. They stare; I ignore them to the best of my abilities as I pass. Once they recover and think I'm out of earshot, they begin talking amongst themselves. "Oh god, he really does go here." "Did ya'll see how wide he is? I swear he's three times wida than my boyfriend." "They can't be real. Nobody can have muscles that big, not even if he ate and drank steroids and HGM" "Fuck. I...I can't stop leaking. Somebody help me." "Cool your tits, Brenda." "HOLY SHIT. MY PANTS." "God dammit, Brenda." Not wanting to hear the conversation I walk faster, but they keep talking and there aren't any sounds to drown them out. By the time I reach my professor's door, the one called Brenda is scream directions on how to be eaten. Not waiting for a response I open the door and step inside and shut the door behind me. Dr. Jenkins looks up from his work; the man's mouth falls open. His face is in utter disbelief, with eyes that are nearly popping out of their sockets, his skin is pale and clammy, the man is struggling to breath. Suddenly his body starts moving, though the facial expression doesn't change. From his desk drawer, he pulls out a large brown bottle and a shot glass. He opens the bottle, and I recognize by the smell that it's alcohol. He fills up the glass and drinks it; his face twists into a knot of pain; he takes another. "Should you be drinking that?" All the papers, metal filing cabinets, and a collection of knickknacks on his book shelf and desk start vibrating, despite my voice being an octave higher than normal. Maybe it has something to do with the size of his office, which isn't small, but with me inside it becomes almost microscopic. He starts humping his desk, hard. The sight of a forty something year old man abusing himself with a desk, makes me want to back out of the plan. I motion him to stop and follow me. Exiting the office, I can still hear screams coming from the group at the end of the hall. Thankfully across Jenkins' office is a lab. Inside are six students, all seemingly finished with their lab and now cleaning up. Or they were until I entered the room. "Sorry guys, but I'm going to need you to leave the lab immediately." Naturally they complied. However, their eyes never once leave my body as they move from their lab stations to collect their belongings. As the first student approaches I move away from the door and stand across the hall until the final student leaves. Then I motion for Jenkins to enter the lab after me and lock the door. "Dr. Jenkins, walk over to the shower head and strip." No questions and no complaints. He immediately strips down naked. The sight isn't pretty, a hairy overweight middle aged man furiously beating off to a student. Though to be fair, I'm not the typical student. In my right hand, I grab the hem of my shirt and lift it up just enough to reveal my abdomen. Eight bronze colored stones carved from an unearthly stone, separated by deep ravines show themselves to the man. The simply act of breathing causes them to moves in a rhythmic motion. The abs bulge out slightly, then contract. The space between expands and shrinks. His eyes once again bulge out, his pupils shrink. Small streams of sweat appear on his face, which has become bright red. The first orgasm nearly tears his body apart. Cum shoots of out of his penis and hits the underside of his belly, as the man collapses onto his knees. After finishing, he recovers and once again shoots a load. Then another, and another. By the fifth erection he is lying on the floor, penis pointing straight at the ceiling and shooting cum several feet into the hair. The sixth orgasm is dry, the seventh wet. As he alternates between wet and dry, I walk over to the fire blanket encased in glass. Using my right forefinger to shatter the glass, I grab the blanket and shake it a few times to remove any unwanted shards. My finger is completely unscratched, the skin isn’t even red. Placing the blanket a few feet from Jenkins, I walk into the adjacent lab room and wait. The empty lab room is massive, probably large enough for 50 or so students. Stools placed next to every station, a few plastic and glass bottle located on the far side of the lab, and some glassware laid about are the only indications that the room is used at all. The only sounds are Jenkins continued moans and screams of agonizing pleasure, and some vents. Alone in the lab with nothing to distract myself, except my body makes me ill at ease. Familiar warmth starts to spread throughout my body. I begin walking around the room in an attempt to distract myself from myself. During the third trip around the lab, I notice a cabinet slightly ajar. Inside are several textbooks and a lab manual. As I leaf through the pages, the shower in the adjacent lab starts running. Half an hour later, Jenkins appears at the doorway; face still red and looking dehydrated. “Professor you should get yourself some water.” There is a precum stain on his pants, probably from earlier. e wanders outside the lab room for a drink. Guilt begins to wash over. Hearing the door in the adjacent lab room open I say, “Professor it’s probably best if we stay in different rooms.” “Yes sir,” he responds meekly. “I’m sorry about misleading you over our emails, but I need to talk to somebody.” “You enrolled under a different name; was it to hide your identity?” “Yes.” “Never in million years would I have guessed I’d be exchanging emails with someone as stunning as you.” Between words he starts to moan once again. “Professor maybe it’s best if you keep your clothes off.” I hear him fumble to remove all the slightly wet clothing. His belt clangs against the floor, several buttons pop off, he actually kicks a shoe into the ceiling. “So about me wanting to be a research assistant…” “Yes of course. Anything, I’ll do anything you want. “ “That’s the thing, I don’t actually want to be a research assistant. I want to be the subject.” “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.” “Have you ever watched a video of me, or looked over some pictures?” “Yes sir.” “How did you react?” “I became sexually stimulated.” “Why?” “I found you attractive.” “And what about when you actually saw me, in the flesh.” “I can’t describe the feeling. It was… I man you are… uhm oh god. I’m…I’m auhhh.” Waiting a few moments before continuing, “I’d like to know why that happens.” “It’s because you are a god among men. Your muscles alone…” “If I walk around shirtless, people ejaculate controllably. Same thing applies when I smile or stare directly into somebody’s eyes. Some people are able to achieve an orgasm simply by looking at me. The blind are driven into fits of insanity and rage at their inability to see. The deaf cry because they can’t hear my voice. Heterosexual men and homosexual women fall to their knees. The chaste are nearly rendered comatose by their suddenly sexual urges. I can think of dozens of more examples; even as I talk you are about to reach yet another orgasm.” He gasps and shoots another load. “Obviously I’m not normal. I need you to find out why this happens, and if it can be stopped. That’s the reason I came to this university.” “What would you have me do?” “Collect whatever samples you want. Run any test you want. Anything you can think of, do it.” “Please don’t make me say yes. I have my own research that I’ve spent my entire adult life working on. I don’t have time. There isn’t any even money for such a thing.” “I know, and I’m sorry, but I have to know. The research starts next semester, start gathering your assistants. After I have gathered more professors, we will all meet up to make plans.” “What about the money? Are you going to take it from my research budgets?” “No, I will personally finance any costs of the project. To make up for taking away your time, how about we make a deal?” “What kind of deal, master?” “If you comply and put aside all your current work to discover the secrets of my body, afterwards I will personally finance all your research for five years. No hoops to jump through, no red tape. However much you need, no, however much you want will be yours. What do you say?” “Yes. Yes. Anything for you, sir,” he says while running into the room. Unfortunately he trips and falls face first onto the hard stone floor. Almost immediately he stands up, as if he doesn’t feel pain. He still looks dehydrated, and it doesn’t help that his penis is still rock solid. “Good, I’ll contact you once I have more staff members.” I leave the room, but through the door I can hear Jenkins once against abusing himself. The group of students from earlier is gone. Several of the cushions have small wet marks on the seats and on the arm rests. Once again taking the rear stairs, I wander the building searching for my biology professor’s office.

Here is a story I've been working on for some time. If you like it I can continue it. Ok, I removed the text file and posted the story below in a more formatted scheme. Check it out by scrolling down. Sorry it is so long, I kept writing and changing until I was more happy with it.

Dylan at the Gym The heavy muscleboy sat in the back of Kyle’s car as they drove to the gym, lazily eating out of a bag of fresh grapes from the grocery store. It was the third one he had devoured; the first bag held a dozen apples, while the second held almost as many peaches. It seemed to Kyle that Dylan’s appetite was insatiable. ‘It makes sense, though,’ the photographer thought to himself, ‘How else does a high school kid grow that huge?’ It was a relatively long drive, but they reached the gym eventually. It wasn’t huge, but it was the biggest one around, and would, Kyle hoped, suffice. As the two walked in, they were greeted by the receptionist, a fairly attractive well-muscled college-aged jock, probably in his early twenties, who would have been quite impressive had he not been in the proximity of Dylan. “Hey, dudes, lookin’ pretty great,” the jock grinned at Kyle and Dylan, though his eyes were only gazing at the teenager’s muscles, running over each of Dylan’s shirt-hugging abs and heaving pecs. “I just need to see your membership card before you go on in. If you don’t have one, I can get you a temporary card for a small fee.” Kyle was about to pull out his wallet to pay for Dylan, but the muscleteen acted before he could. “Excuse me, sir, but I don’t have a membership. And I don’t have money on me, either.” “You don’t have a membership? That explains why I’ve never seen you before, kid… I definitely would have remembered a guy as big as you.” The guy shrugged, “I can’t let you go through though without a membership, though. I’m really sorry about that.” Dylan’s raised his brows, and a faint smirk sneaked upon his face. Kyle heard the boy’s sleeves groan as his enormous arms crossed in front of his chest. “I came here to work out, and I’m not going away until I pump some real iron. It would be pretty bad for both us if I didn’t get what I want.” He bounced his pecs, resulting in the massive chest muscles punching violently against the strained fabric. The college kid had to blink a few times to believe that those huge pecs were real; it didn’t seem possible that anything so meaty and bulky could be so elastic and supple. “You catch my drift?” The receptionist shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, dude, I’d never want to piss off a beast like you, but I don’t think you understand. You need a membership to go through.” “Just let me pay for the temporary membership, Dylan…” The hulking adolescent turned his head towards Kyle and winked as if to say, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” Then, turning back, Dylan placed his hands behind his head. “I think it’s you who doesn’t understand, mister. You see these guns?” The receptionist looked over at the boy’s massive arms, admiring their round, hulking enormity, and the way the muscles seemed to shift lazily underneath, relaxed, powerful muscle that might have resembled a fleshy bowling ball… and, suddenly, Dylan twitched his biceps. The sleeves tightened for a second, but they couldn’t hold. The resulting flex tore straight through the already-strained sleeves, unveiling the mouthwatering teenage beef that would better be described as 'cannons' than 'guns'. “These bad boys ARE my membership. Who says I can’t go through? You? My puppies disagree, don’tcha, lil’ guys?” He looked over to his right and flexed his arm. Dylan’s biceps soared high enough that, without even tilting his head, he could kiss the very tip of it with his beautiful, masculine lips. “You think my puppies are right, man?” He looked back at the receptionist, to see that the college jock was breathing heavily at the sight, a growing wet spot forming on his cargo pants. “I… you’re right, kid, you’re just, just… fuck, dude, I need to feel those…” The man reached out to touch Dylan’s gargantuan muscles, but a disapproving frown from the colossal muscleboy told him to stop mid-stretch. The receptionist's eyes were filled with lust and desire, his heart jerking towards Dylan's irresistibly attractive body, and when Dylan frowned, Kyle saw the receptionist's heart break in those yearning eyes. “Go on through, I, I, I won’t tell my boss, sir…” Kyle and Dylan continued past the counter, as the receptionist ran off to get a change of pants. Before they entered the weightroom, the muscleboy stopped and grinned down at the blond photographer. “I hope I didn’t freak you out back there. It’s just that you’ve been awfully nice to me, letting me stay over at your place during the rainstorm last night, and driving me all the way over here, and everything. I didn’t want you to have to pay for me too, so I used my… ‘persuasion skills’ to get us both a free membership. My ex always told me that I can be pretty scary when I’m persuading someone.” He grinned. ‘Scary,’ Kyle thought, ‘But also sexy as fuck.’ The way Dylan’s biceps effortlessly exploded through the shirt’s fabric made Kyle hard as hell. The kid hadn’t even lifted today, but his muscles were already getting pumped up bigger than most bodybuilders on TV. ‘Shit… and he's still in high school, too, barely even legal…’ “Anyways,” the musclegod continued, “At least everybody will know not to get in my way while I work out, right?” Dylan chuckled at the way Kyle’s eyes seemed glued to his gigantic biceps. “C’mon, let’s go.” He opened the door to the weightroom and gestured Kyle to enter. “Ladies first.” --- Donald was proud of what he had accomplished. At 260lbs of muscle, Donald was huge, a true titan, with a fit 34-inch waist that made it obvious his mass wasn’t from eating burgers. He knew his effect on women, on men, his ability to hypnotize others with his incredible bulk and physique. He wasn’t always this big; the bulky redhead had suffered from obesity as a teenager. Everyone made fun of him, so one day he decided to improve on his body. That was the day when he transformed from the introverted fat kid to the hunk he had become today. The bodybuilder snapped back to the present. Donald was feeling pretty good about himself that day; it was the day before his competition, his fourth one. The first three had been a cinch to win, and he had bulked up twenty pounds since he last he hit the stage. Donald was sure he would win this one too. Today was chest day for Donald, which was good, because Donald’s pecs were his favorite part of his body. He went to work, lying down, his huge muscles spreading as he prepped himself up, then his arms grasping the bar, lifting it as he proceeded to pump one, two, three, four, FIVE reps with 585lbs. It was his bench press record, and he was proud as hell that he was strong enough to rep it five times on his first attempt. He was the biggest, baddest guy around, and everyone envied him. Or so he thought. Suddenly, a massive, hulking, shirtless giant walked by. He was way bigger than Donald… and he seemed to be way more ripped, too. The giant smiled down at Donald, a handsome smile with sparkling teeth and stunning brown eyes, though the bodybuilder could barely make out the musclegod’s face in the bright light from the gym ceiling. “Nice job, man,” the giant rumbled, his voice oozing youthful masculinity, “You look pretty buff. Wanna’ spot me?” Donald only worked out with big guys; he didn’t associate with anyone below 200lbs. But this stud was obviously way, way bigger than that, he even dwarfed Donald himself! Grudgingly, the bodybuilder stood up behind the bench and wiped the sweat from his brow. This musclegod may be fucking massive, but there’s no way he could be stronger than Donald. Then the giant musclebeast laid down on the bench and started pumping out reps. As the musclefreak was pressing the bar, Donald finally caught a glimpse of his face, and… holy fuck! How old was this kid? “…eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Fuck yeah, that was a sweet warm-up! Hey, man, can ya’ add two more 45lbs plates to each side? I need to get a REAL pump in these babies…” The older bodybuilder obeyed, adding 180lbs to the bar. While the teen resumed benching, Donald added up the weights in his head… 765lbs! Damn! “Hey, kid,” Donald said after the muscleteen had finished another set of twenty reps, “Just who are you, anyways?” The boy sat up, surprised. “Oh, I guess I never introduced myself, huh? I’m Dylan. High school senior.” He extended his arm out, palm open. “And you are…?” “The name’s Donald, and I’m a bodybuilder” the redhead grasped Dylan’s hand and shook it. Out of habit, Donald squeezed the kid’s hand to test his strength. The kid smiled at him, revealing two rows of flawless white teeth… and then returned the squeeze with mind-blowing pressure. He nearly crushed Donald’s fist in his grip! The bodybuilder winced as he pulled his arm back, but the teenager didn’t seem to have even noticed the effect of his bone-crushing grasp on the older bodybuilder. “Shall we get back to the workout?” --- Meanwhile, Kyle watched from a distance as Dylan showed off to the bodybuilder, snapping a photo quietly every few seconds. These pictures were coming out perfectly. Each of Dylan’s reps made the muscleteen’s massive arms explode, his gargantuan pecs inflate until they looked like they would rip out of the “Get BIG n’ BUFF 4XL” t-shirt at any moment. As the muscleboy worked out, an arrogant smirk slowly spreading upon his gorgeous lips, the older bodybuilder stood behind him gaping at the teen’s superhuman strength as Dylan easily pumped the enormous weights. These pictures would be excellent advertising for BIG n’ BUFF. --- Donald was shocked as Dylan finished his last set. For the finale, the unstoppable muscleteen had 855lbs on the bar, almost three hundred pounds more than Donald’s own bench record! The kid pumped out ten reps, but just when Donald thought he would stop, the kid pumped out ten more. And ten after that. And then ten again. By the time the freak kid was done, Donald had counted fifty reps, and Dylan still wasn’t tired! “Don’t want to drain my energy too soon,” the kid winked at Donald. “Besides, if my pecs get any bigger I’ll have to buy a new shirt! My biceps have already ripped through the sleeves…” “Goddamn, kid, if I didn’t just see you bench over three times your bodyweight, I’d think you’re on juice! You’re not taking anything, are you?” Dylan shook his head, droplets of fine sweat slinging off his dark hair, “Hell no. My musclepower comes solely from a balanced diet of bread, meat, fruit, and veggies, and everything in between. I eat anything and everything, and no matter what I consume, it all turns into pure muscle.” The adolescent raised his right bicep and flexed, admiring the enormous musclesphere, “Incidentally, that bench was less than three times my bodyweight. I weighed myself in at 318lbs last time I checked.” Donald’s eyes widened. “Last time you checked?” “A week ago,” Dylan admitted, the tone of his voice a mixture of innocent and cocky. "I might be heavier now..." “Ho-ly-Shit! You’re a genetic freak if I’ve ever seen one!” And then, realizing what he had just said, “Not in a bad way, of course! I wouldn’t want to piss off a stud like you! But damn, over three hundred pounds and still in high school. I bet the ladies can’t get enough of you.” Dylan laughed, walking over to the pull-up bar, the big meaty spheres of his glutes grinding against each other with every stride. “Yeah, I hear that a lot. Come over here and help me with my workout.” The bodybuilder followed the muscleteen, curious what the kid planned to do. Dylan handed him a belt. On it were two hundred pounds of iron. “Wear this,” the kid ordered. Donald obeyed. “Now grab onto my neck and hold on tight.” As soon as he did so, Dylan started powering out reps on the pull-up bar. Up and down, up and down, the teen tirelessly pulled nearly 800lbs using only his lat and arm muscles. Grasping the kid’s incredible body, Donald could actually FEEL Dylan’s enormous back blossom into a vast plane of unyielding muscle, even under the shirt spread so thin across his powerful torso that it was starting to look more like a coat of paint than an actual garment. The muscleteen counted reps, “Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…” but the bodybuilder was too busy holding onto Dylan’s body to listen, the kid’s muscles expanding with every pump and forcing apart his fingers with their growing size. The weight belt pulled down on Donald’s mass, making it even harder for the bodybuilder to keep his grip. Donald growled and applied every ounce of strength he had to holding onto that teenage body, but even his strongest grip couldn’t dent the stud’s impossibly dense musculature as the muscleboy vigorously pumped out reps. “Sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three…” the teenager counted, each rep inflating his biceps a little bigger, his back a little wider, his power a little stronger. The kid started sweating, drenching his shirt in overwhelming male sudor. Donald was dizzy as the slippery, sweaty mountain of muscle burgeoned beneath his fingers, and he felt that he could barely hold on… --- Kyle continued observing the scene. Dylan had flexed his bicep, a prodigious ball of muscle exploding from his arm, and the bodybuilder’s jaw dropped in awe at such mind-boggling enormity. SNAP! Picture perfect. The dude was blown away by the teen’s overwhelming size, and the photo showed it. Then Dylan indicated towards another part of the gym, and the two headed off to… a pull-up bar? The kid handed the older guy a weighted belt with an ungodly amount of steel on it, saying a few words while he flashed that trademark perfect smile of his (‘does he even realize how hot those lips are?’). Then Dylan grabbed onto the pull-up bar and started pumping out reps… with the bodybuilder hanging on his back! The kid ceaselessly pulled up their combined weight, probably over 800 pounds, and didn’t stop until the guy holding onto him looked like he was about to fall off. --- When Dylan dropped back to the ground, Donald fell off his back. He was breathing hard, exhausted, his big, muscled arms aching from hanging onto the powerful teenager. He had never imagined being lifted so easily! And by a kid, not even out of high school! “…and that makes one hundred reps!” the teenage musclegod announced. He looked down on the floor, where Donald was lying, exhausted. “What up, big guy? You can’t be tired already, we just started! Get off your ass and help me do squats!” For the next two hours Dylan and Donald worked out. Dylan, of course, dominated. Donald was getting more and more worn-out from just trying to keep up with the teen’s heavy lifts, and yet the muscleboy himself was an unstoppable fountain of vigor. Every time he pumped up his muscles, Dylan seemed to have a new surge of energy. Donald could hardly comprehend how this high school kid was easily lifting weights that powerlifters would envy, and the fact that the boy seemed to gain more musclepower, more dynamic energy with every flex just blew his mind. Of course, by this time Dylan’s record-breaking work-out had attracted quite a few other gym-goers, muscular guys and skinny guys alike. They asked the muscleboy about his schedule, his diet, his stats, even his favorite work-out music, but once Dylan made it obvious that he wouldn’t appreciate distractions from his lifting, the overzealous fans backed away. “Shit, kid,” Donald said, “You’re more jacked than I ever dreamed of being. I remember in college girls thought I was hot as fuck, and I was way smaller than you are. I can’t even imagine all the pussy you must be getting with a body like that, kid.” Dylan laughed as he curled two 180lbs barbells. With each rep his biceps bulged into gigantic cannonballs, and as they stretched his triceps formed a delicious arc twice as big. Donald watched the teen’s arms as they continued to flex and expand. He felt something, a sort of awe, familiar and yet nostalgic. It was the same awe he experienced back when he first saw a bodybuilder flex in one of his magazines. But this muscleboy fucking dwarfed that old bodybuilder, it wasn’t even a competition. He remembered being a fat kid in high school, back when the mean jocks used to corner him in the hallway and use his flabby belly as a punching bag. Donald was glad Dylan wasn’t one of those jocks. A punch from Dylan could probably do way more damage than anything those high school jocks did. “What’s your shirt say?” Donald asked. “Get BIG n’ BUFF… 4XL… what’s that?” The teen dropped the dumbbells on the floor. Thirty reps with each arm. He flexed. Fucking huge. Huger than ever. “BIG n’ BUFF? It’s a company. They make workout equipment. Make supplements too. I always use their shit. You should check them out” It was a lie, of course, but a harmless one. Donald was enraptured. “BIG n’ BUFF, huh? I’ll look them up as soon as I get home. Sounds like the kind of stuff I need to gain more muscle.” Dylan shrugged, striding over to the mirror. He lifted the hem of his shirt, revealing two columns of ripped, shredded muscle. “Yeah, check out these abs. I’ve got a fucking eight-pack here.” He casually glanced at the older bodybuilder. “Come here, see if you can hurt me.” “No way man,” Donald shook his head, “I’m exhausted. I can hardly even move my arm.” “Don’t worry, I won’t flex,” Dylan promised. He let out a deep breath and relaxed his abs, though they still looked dense as lead. “See?” “Fine, then,” the redhead grumbled. He walked in front of Dylan, forming a fist as hard as he could. Then, pulling his arm back, turning his hips, he swung his fist into the teen’s midsection, putting the entire momentum of his body into that one superpunch. Instantly, Donald cried out in pain. He collapsed on the floor, holding his fist in his other hand. “Shit! I think you almost cracked my knuckles! You said you wouldn’t flex, damn it!” “I didn’t, dude,” Dylan replied, “This is what my abs would look like if they were flexed.” Then, tensing his lower torso, Dylan really flexed his muscles. His rippling abs actually started to grow and bulge and push out against each other, eight bricks of muscle that were each easily distinguished by the eye, powerful slabs unyielding and indestructible. The Greek Gods carved out of marble couldn’t hope to imitate such hardness. “Now that you got a chance to punch me, it’s only fair I get to punch you.” Dylan chuckled when he saw Donald’s horrified face. “I’m only kidding, dude. I’m don’t want to kill ya’.” Then, crouching down next to Donald, he said, “You’ve been a great work-out buddy. I’m going to stay here a bit longer, but you’re totally drained. Go home and get some rest. Maybe we can work-out again some time.” Dylan winked at the older bodybuilder one last time before walking away. Donald quickly collected himself and drove home as fast as he could. He had never reacted this way to another man, but this incredible teenage musclegod, with his handsome face and his mind-boggling power and his irresistible youth and virility, this kid made him gay if he wasn’t already. He was going to have a very long jerk-off session this afternoon. It would be the longest of his life. --- The teen giant strode into the locker room. Kyle was there, shuffling through the pictures in his camera. “Like what you saw?” The muscleboy asked. He walked over and sat down next to Kyle, looking into the camera. There was a photo of a beautiful, gargantuan muscular man squatting a barbell holding an unfathomable amount of weight. The teen’s perfect lips were spread into a smile that was calm, casual, almost smug as he pressed over half a ton of iron with his powerful, delicious glutes. By contrast, the man spotting him had his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide, as if in awe, perhaps with jealousy or even lust. A few other men and women could be seen in the background of the photo, though they all seemed puny in relation to the musclebeast. Most of them was looking in the superhuman boy’s direction. One older man almost looked like he had a boner, though it could have just been a trick of the light. “Liked it? I loved it! You went through every single pose and flex imaginable. These photos are going to turn out great.” Kyle paused a bit as he shifted his eyes from the camera to the teenager. Fuck. Over three hundred pounds of muscle. Godlike strength. Sexy face. Sitting right next to him. He looked even bigger up close, pumped powerfully from the workout. The kid could rape him and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Not that he would mind. “There’s only one thing left. I should have done this earlier, but I thought I should ask you for your permission first. The people who I am selling these photos to, well, they’ve wanted to get some shirtless shots of you for their advertising campaign. I’m not going to force you to do it if you don’t want to, Dylan, but I’m willing to pay a nice bonus if you do.” The muscleboy chuckled. “Kyle, you think I’d feel shy about doing a shirtless pic? Dude, I love showing off! Don’t even bother paying me extra.” And that’s how Dylan’s first shirtless photos came about. Kyle ended up taking about a dozen or so shots with his camera. They all turned out perfectly. First, he had Dylan flex his pecs, tearing the BIG n’ BUFF shirt down the middle. It was a torso shot, with the muscleteen staring directly at the camera with those big beautiful brown eyes that made Kyle shudder. The boy’s pecs heaved forward, bursting through the fabric of the shirt like a surge of water through a dam, the two enormous muscle-pillows exploding towards the camera. His arms were held at his side, balls of muscle relaxed and yet huge; even unflexed, it was impossible to ignore Dylan’s impressive biceps and triceps. In another shot, Dylan was in the shower, his eyes closed, mouth barely open as tiny droplets of water splattered over his seductive male body and soaked his powerful muscles. The photo offered a breathtaking view of his monstrous pectorals, his colossal arms, and his flawless eight-pack. A third shot featured Dylan showing off his broad, expansive back. The staggering width of the muscleboy’s shoulders was only more amazing when contrasted with his skinny waist; Dylan’s belly was tiny even compared to most female models! At the bottom of the photo, one could easily see the muscleteen’s thick prominent glutes pushing against his basketball shorts, the deliciously erotic musclebutt seeming to explode from the boy’s miniscule waist. Dylan’s powerful neck was twisted towards the camera so that he could gaze directly at the viewer. He was winking, and his lips were curled in a cocky smirk, as if saying, ‘Yeah, I know you want this’. “That’s amazing, Dylan,” the blond finally said. “Let’s wrap this up and go home.” --- Kyle drove Dylan back to the teen’s house. The radio was turned up, playing the latest pop music. Dylan casually popped and flexed his muscles to the tune as if pumping weights. The photographer worked hard to keep his eyes on the road, despite the bulging mass of beauty sitting in his backseat. “The company is Big n’ Buff, right?” the teen suddenly asked “Which company?” “You know, the one you’re selling my pictures to. Big n’ Buff?” “Oh, yeah,” Kyle replied, “That’s them. They make equipment and supplements and stuff. Dylan shrugged. “I told that bodybuilder who I was working out with about it. Told him that I’ve been using it for a while, and that he should use their products too if he wants to be big like me.” The photographer chuckled. “Using it for a while, have you? The company itself is fairly young. They’ve had a rough first year and they’re looking for a few models to help them promote their image and attract more customers.” “Then why not let me talk to them?” the muscleboy asked. “Next time you meet up with them, bring me along too. I can help you strike a deal with them. I’m great at persuading people..." and then, with a naughty grin, "but you know that already, don't you?” Kyle thought about it for a few seconds. “Sounds like a good idea. I haven’t actually talked to anyone there yet. I have a middleman, or rather a middlewoman, whom I talk to first. But I’ll see what we can do about arranging a meeting.” After a few more minutes of driving, they reached Dylan’s house. “Thanks a lot for everything, Kyle. I'm serious, you've been a really awesome friend to me.” The muscleboy smiled, “When I become internationally famous, I’ll pay you back for everything.” Dylan didn't know it at the time, but those words were destined to come true. “Yeah, right, big guy” the photographer laughed, “Call me when you find the solution for world peace.” Kyle watched the hulking muscleboy shut the door behind him. Then, with a sigh of lost passion, he drove back home.

Tristan Part 3 Going down an escalator, Tristan stares from one shop to another, trying to familiarize himself with all the stores while also looking for a help wanted sign. "So Tristan, did you find anything you like?" "Yeah, I found a couple of shirts and a pair of shorts." "That's good." Looking around, Tristan notices that it's noon, on an early July day, but the mall isn't even moderately crowded. Just a few groups of high-schoolers, some parents with their kids, and a dozen or so senior citizens spread about. Most stores are empty or at least seemingly empty, and a few are actually closed. "Hey Drew, why is it so empty? Back where I'm from the malls are insanely crowded during the summers." "Well almost two thirds of the town’s population leaves during the summer, so everything gets real empty around here. Two, three weeks before the semester starts everybody floods back here and this place becomes a mess. Thousands of freshmen free from their parents running around buying all kinds of unnecessary things. Worse when they have their parents, fussing and encouraging them to buy something advertised by some morning news show. The whole mall becomes a disaster." "Yeah?" "Yeah. So how's the job hunt?" "No luck. Every place that's open is fully staffed, and apparently the owners give jobs back to the returning students before hiring any new faces." "Tends to happen, but you'll find something eventually." "I hope so, not doing anything all day is staring to drive me nuts." "Well I see you have been hitting the gym. You're arms look bigger than when we first met. Oh hey there's Afano and Blake." Afano sits in the middle of a bench meant for three people; his shoulders make it impossible for somebody to sit next to him. Blake sits adjacent to Afano, on another bench, and is first to spot Drew and Tristan walking over. "You guys ready to go?" asks Blake. "I am" "Me too." "Alright let's go." "I was telling Tristan how his arms look bigger, compared to when we first met him," starts Drew as the group begins walking toward an exit. "It's hard to tell, with his height gain," says Afano, "that's why I keep telling him to hit the gym. He's surprisingly strong, I mean you look strong, but you definitely are lifting out of your weight class," he continues as he looks at Tristan. "I used to work at a metal recycling center, so I'm used to lifting heavy things.." "So is that the kind of job you're looking for?" asks Drew. "Not really. I mean the money was great, but I'd rather not spend all day lugging around metal scrapes under the hot sun." "That's how you got shredded, by lugging metal?" "That and eating healthy." The group passes by a tall mirror, positioned right between two bathrooms. Afano takes a moment to admire himself. The Samoan giant is literally spilling out of his stringer tank top. His immense pecs are so large the fabric can't reach over to fully cover his exposed nibbles. Afano smiles to his reflection and begins running his hands over his abs. Blake takes notices that Afano's gargantuan arms and pecs are missing from his peripheral vision. He turns around to spot the giant flexing in front of the mirror. "Guys wait up, we got a bit of self-worshiping going on," says Blake to Drew and Tristan. "There's nothing wrong with admiring your body. God I spend so many hours in the gym, I should be allowed to walk around shirtless anywhere I want," decrees the giant as he removes his tank top and continues flexing. After striking several poses, Afano leaves his reflection and walks back to the group. However, instead of taking his position next to Blake, he walks right up to Tristan. He close to three inches taller than the new comer, but significantly wider. Much wider, so much wider, any person standing behind the giant wouldn't know there was a young man facing opposite the giant. "Is something wrong?" "No not really. Walking over here, I noticed that you look 'small.'” He pauses for a moment to take a look around, “Mostly everyone here is wearing some sort of tank top and shorts, except you. At and around the apartment you go shirtless sometimes, and you're unbelievably shredded and you have mass. But every time we go out, you always wear a t-shirt and jeans, to hide your muscles and make yourself look small." "Okay, where is this going?" "You have an insane physique, the kind most guys would kill to have, and most girls would do anything to fuck. So how come you hide it?" "I wear what I find comfortable, which is mostly t-shirts and jeans. If my physique is hidden it's because the clothing is loose, not because I'm consciously hiding anything. Besides, why does any of this matter to you?" Afano thinks over the question for a moment, still shirtless. Some of the few mall goers stare at his immense body; some turned on, others repulsed by the bulging oversized muscles. Opposite the giant, mall goers either see Blake or Drew; they pay little if any attention to Tristan. Blake breaks the silence, "You look weird." Before Afano can add to the conversation, Drew begins talking, "Let me explain. When we first interviewed you for the spare room, you didn't strike us as anything really all that notable. No tattoos, no piercings, no strange mannerisms, honestly neither your personality nor physical appearance were noteworthy, or at least at first. When we started narrowing down the candidates, you sort of popped up. That guy with brown eyes, black hair, over six feet; we called you up again and arranged another meeting during your next college visit. Then we agreed to offer up the room." "I'm gonna be honest. The second time you showed up, I thought, 'this guy is pretty cute,'" adds Afano, "During your second visit, I couldn't help but notice how your facial features just popped out, or that you were relatively tall and looked solid. Then actually living with you, pretty cute became really handsome, and solid became shredded as fuck." "Tons of people have said that to me. I still don't get the point." "I'm just saying you should show off a little. Add a little swagger to your walk, wear tighter clothes, do something," urges Afano, oddly full of passion. "Yeah, if he didn't pester you to go to the gym, you probably won't have left the apartment at all, I mean except to look for a job. You're 18 and on your own, and the first thing you do is look for a job. Seriously?" adds Blake. "Of course I'm going to search for a job, I need to support myself." "You have plenty of money saved up," counters Afano. "Hey, some friends of mine are throwing are throwing a big birthday party at the end of the month, and we're taking you. No objections," "Okay." "Alright so it's settled, we are going to get you shit-faced. Also you're going to the gym with Blake and me." "Alright, alright, just so long was we can leave; we've been standing here forever." The next day, Tristan spends mid-morning and all afternoon searching for a possible job in another town, but turns up empty handed. He drives to the apartment to switch clothes and then drives toward the university gym. The gym is incredibly large, and well stocked, but most surprisingly it's open 24/7. Once through the doors he immediately spots Afano, Blake and even Drew, who usually works out during the mornings. "Alright so I'm ready to do something." The next day. "Should my legs have a pulse?" "That's normalish, especially for such an intense work out. Here drink this and take these," says Drew as he gives Tristan a glass of water and various pills. Tristan takes the pills and swallows them, along with several gulps of water before asking, "What do they do?" "Most people ask and then sallow. There's protein in the water, the pills are to help promote muscle repair and growth. You are going to need a ton of these." "Does any of that stuff actually work? I mean there are tons of vitamins that don't do a damn, other than led to really expensive urine." "Trust me these work. The month after I started taking all this stuff, I gained some pretty serious mass, and I increased all my lifts. Believe me; you'll want these to maximize your results." Tristan looks down at his calves; no longer red or swollen. They look exactly the same as they did yesterday; however, the muscle tissues have been completely destroyed. Every time his brain sends a signal to his calves, they angrily respond by bursting into pain. "I feel like dying. You people are monsters." Afano walks into the kitchen to find Tristan, legs spread out wide in a V. "You're the monster. Fuck, for a novice, you squatted weights that experienced lifters would be proud of," smiles Afano. "I get the impression I shouldn't have done that." "Maybe not for your first time, but you need to push yourself to get real results," says Drew. Tristan stares at Drew and Afano, both wearing just boxers and sandals. Drew has a solid V shaped torso, though Tristan's attention immediately goes to his bulky arms and pecs. Those specific body parts look like they belong on somebody who weighs a good twenty pounds more. Still, Drew doesn't seem to be out of proportion, in fact his confidence and natural charisma seem to flow into his muscles. He likes his large upper body and works hard to build and maintain it, and he can somehow look impressive even while standing next to Afano. The college senior outweighs Drew by close to a hundred pounds and is four inches taller; his body screams power and strength. Afano's muscles aren't as toned as Drew's, which isn't to say they are soft or flabby, but are instead just plain bulky. His waist is probably 40 something inches, though it looks significantly smaller do to his immense shoulders. His legs and arms look like a grocer stuffed several melons into long plastic brown bags. His bulbous body occupies an absurd amount of space, every time he moves the kitchen seems to get smaller. "Tristan, you still in there?" "W...what?" "We were asking about your old job. Didn't you ever get sore?" "Sometimes, but I was never expected to move almost double my body weight, using just my legs." "Well the more you do it, the less it'll hurt." "I doubt that." Tristan gets up to walk away. Upon standing his legs buckle, almost turning to jelly. He takes a step toward his bathroom, immediately his legs respond by shouting, "Fuck you," with every step. Right, "fuck." Left, "you." After a short eternity of searing pain, Tristan sits in his bathtub running a warm bath. He stretches out his tall body, out along the tub and tries to relaxing, before falling asleep for two hours. For the next three weeks Tristan continues going to the gym with his roommates, to avoid their nagging to, "do something." Initially the workouts are hellish, but gradually his body begins to adapt to the harsh one or two hour sessions. The soreness following a day's work out becomes less severe, and his recovery time decreases. Tristan puts on a shirt from back home. After two months, a little over an inch in height, and several pounds of muscle, the shirt is snug. It shows off his chest and arms nicely, but still hides his abs. His shorts reveal a pair of matching brownish calves covered with sinewy muscle, and covered with a dusting of hair. Glancing over his reflection, on his bathroom mirror, Tristan walks out to find Blake standing outside his bedroom door. "The guys wanted to check if you were ready." "Just need my wallet." Blake watches as Tristan bends his arm to pick up his wallet. A month ago his bicep would have sort-of-mostly filled the sleeve, but now it actually stretches the sleeve. He notes how Tristan's shirt hugs his pecs and upper arms, yet is incredibly loose around his waist. 'He needs to tailor his shirts,' thinks Blake as he and Tristan head out the door. As Tristan walks to Blake's truck, Afano and Drew take notice of his newly improved physique. They have been monitoring his developments, but today he really shines. In the rear view mirror, Afano is treated to a full view of Tristan climbing into the truck. He notices how round and tight Tristan's ass looks in those shorts greenish brown shorts. The shorts themselves are positively hideous, but a fine ass can make even the ugliest of shorts or paints stunning. Blake begins driving toward a house located near the end of the county line. A lone house, two stories tall and surrounded by trees and hills. No a single neighbor in any direction for almost an entire mile. Already the music is blaring and there are people running around with red cups in hand. "So little buddy, welcome to your first of many parties."

(I realize this might not be everyone's cup of tea, but stay with it - you might enjoy the ending.) He had his brutish face next to mine – close enough that the rough whiskers of his day-old beard were scratching my neck as he whispered in my ear. Stiff bristles scraping in a way that made the hair on my arms tingle and my toes curl. “The sound of bones breaking makes me cum every time. It’s such an incredible turn-on – destroying someone with my bare hands. Care to find out, squirt?” He squeezed my body tighter and I let out a muffled cry – partly because of pain, but mostly because he crushed the sound out of me. Two of his thick fingers were shoved down my throat and it prevented me from breathing normally - that and the fact that his other huge arm was wrapped around my mid-section compressing my body like I was nothing more than a tube of toothpaste. It felt like my spine was about to snap in two, but he didn’t care and his arm drew in harder, like a giant belt tightening around a tiny delicate waist. “God, I’d love to hear your backbone pop like a heavy two-by-four being broken apart between my big hands. I bet your own cock would gush real hard even as your body sent messages of intense pain to your brain. You’d have the best orgasm of your life and then your body would go limp – unable to ever feel anything again. I could break you so easily, little man.” The apelike power-lifter flexed his huge biceps harder against my ribcage and it immediately felt like I was pinned against the wall that was his chest by the front end of a big truck. To add more insult to his unyielding domination he bit at my neck with his teeth, making sure to clamp down hard enough to leave marks that would surely stay for days. I thought about how crazy it would be to be snapped in two, unable to move afterwards, and have intense teeth indentions up and down your neck. Whoever found me would probably attribute my demise to some powerful vampire who had lost his fangs. “Listen to you gasp for breath, puny one. That makes my balls churn out tons more hot jizz than normal, which pumps hard into my growing cock like lava swelling up from deep inside the earth. Yeah, feel how your tight little ass twitches at the idea that the big fat log pressing up against you right now hasn’t even reached its full size. I doubt that cock of yours will actually be able to outlast your spine. I bet your bones shatter before you even get a chance to spew, but my own dick will unload so much he-man cum inside your body that you’ll gain five pounds on the spot. I wonder if I shoved my rod far enough up into you that I’d actually feel my giant arm squeezing the bulbous tip as I break you in two. That would add a little more umph to my eruption – knowing I speared you like a human shish-kabob!” I figured if the big man didn’t actually end up cracking me to pieces I would definitely require the help of a chiropractor over many visits to get my back into some semblance of its original alignment. I was like a flimsy toothpick on the verge of splintering in this man’s thickly muscled arm and he knew it. Dark spots were starting to form in my eyes and I accepted that everything would be going completely black pretty soon – either from unconsciousness or death. I tried to suck in some air, but his arm was just too powerful. He was applying pressure on my body that you’d usually reserve for bulldozers, a herd of elephants ramming into a small tree, or those machines that smash cars into little boxes. One pleasurable part of being compressed like a discarded crumpled Kleenex was that the guy’s enormous hard cock was slammed against my ass crack so tightly that I got a glimpse of what it would be like to be plowed by his huge member. That was truly keeping me alert for a lot longer than either of us expected – the feeling of his huge tool prying my cheeks apart as his powerful gun pull so tightly that my torso was beginning to feel almost paper thin. “I should so finish you, dweeb, but I’m not done having fun with your little body. There are so many other bones that could be broken before snapping your back.” Suddenly, the big arm released me and my oxygen-deprived frame fell to the ground – a blob of gasping frailty. It was good to be alive, but I immediately missed his powerful arm showing off its strength and his huge teasing cock ramming into me. I couldn’t move – at all. At first I thought it was because I was paralyzed – that he had actually broken my spine - but then I realized it was actually because his giant foot was pressing against my lower back and ass. An equally impressive size-16 shoe had replaced his huge piece of meat and I loved the feeling it gave, just as much. I couldn’t have pushed my body up from the floor for anything in the world. The pressure from his humongous leg pushing down through his foot was ten times greater than that of his enormous arm. I suddenly realized I’d be a goner in mere minutes – his foot easily smashing my body to smithereens. “Oh god . . . fuck yeah . . . feel how my giant foot squishes your pathetic body against the floor. I’m barely putting any pressure on you and you couldn’t move to save your life. You’re nothing but a little cheaply made toy ready for me to destroy it with no effort at all. Oh fuck . . . that . . . gets me . . . so . . . hot.” I didn’t understand his staccato patterned speech until I felt the giant foot rocking back and forth roughly against my back and ass. It suddenly dawned on me that the big man was busy pounding his meat. I could hear his fist flying up and down on his hard shaft – the guy was intensely turned on simply because his massive foot was stomping me like a bug. His breathing was now so hard that I could actually feel wafts of what seemed like hot air blowing against my back as he exhaled – and his head was over six feet from my body. He was a bull blowing steam while it charged. The pressure from his foot was beyond unbearable. I could feel my body starting to be compressed into something that would eventually be unrecognizable. Pain seemed to be taking over every part of my being – even the pieces that weren’t under being crushed. “I . . . unh . . . unh . . . could so . . . oh fuck . . . squish you . . . unh . . . unh . . . like a . . . fucking . . . ant!” My back began to make crackling sounds like some kind of children’s cereal. I was ready for total submission – the dreaded ending - and then the intense pressure suddenly stopped. My body still ached unbelievably but I could tell that something important had caused the big man to pull his foot slightly away. That’s when I heard and felt the spattering of something thick and warm hitting my back, neck, ass, and head. The huge dude was shooting off like some large gaudy fountain in a Roman piazza. I felt like I was caught in a torrential thunderstorm where huge hot raindrops were smacking hard – everywhere - around me and on me. The loud howl released from the giant beast, coupled with the waterfall of cum, caused me to suddenly shoot off like a cannon, as well. My weakened body was not too destroyed to blast out an eruption to match that of the dominator above me. My ass shot up off the floor as my stomach sucked powerfully inward so my cock could spew forth a tsunami of thick juice. I cried out forcefully, as well, but my animalistic growl sounded like a purring kitten compared to the big man’s ear-splitting orgasmic moan. Pellets of his dense-as-a-milkshake cum continued to whack down around me long after my body finished ejaculating. It seemed that even this man’s semen was much more robust than mine – as if orgasms were proof of our size difference, as well. Finally, the bull’s breathing returned to something close to normal – for a beast as big as him, that is - and his giant foot nudged my side roughly. “Go get yourself cleaned up, punk. It’s your lucky day. I spared your weak little bones the fate of being crushed into fine dust. I’m feeling generous.” I kind of painfully half-slithered half-crawled to the bathroom down the hall – and washed off my abused body, amazed at the amount of dried he-man paste that plastered my back. The semen seemed hard as cement as I tried to scrub it off – another bizarre testimony to the man’s virility. I could see bruises starting to form across my chest, ribcage, and back. I also knew I’d be sore for a few weeks. When I came back into the living room the big dude was already chugging down his third beer – still standing huge and nude at the bar, which snaked proudly from a corner of the room. He was one of the biggest and thickest thugs I’d ever seen – with arms that resembled beer kegs and a chest with enough hard meat that I was only able to get my arms halfway around his body when we hugged. He turned his face toward me as I walked in and I was again struck by the fact that the guy was brutishly handsome – in the same way some people found pit bulls cute. When he spoke it was louder than he needed to be – as if he couldn’t control his voice the same way he couldn’t control his muscles. “How much do I owe you?” “A thousand.” “You are worth every penny, dude. You’re simply amazing.” “I told you you’d like the foot thing, big man. I knew it would get you off.” “How do you know me so well?” “It’s my job to know what makes my clients happy.” “I wish you’d let me be your only client. You know I don’t like sharing you.” “Not this again, bruiser. You know I hate it when you start talking this way.” I was over by the chair now – using it for balancing as I put on my shoes. He was staring at me in that puppy dog way I knew so well and was absent-mindedly stroking his still semi-hard cock, probably re-living the intense fun we had just had in this very room. “Can I see you again tomorrow, honey?” “I don’t know, big man. I’m starting to think you’re getting obsessed.” Suddenly, he was on the floor in front of me – down on his knees with his big hands latched around my now loafered feet and he was kissing both shoes wildly. I rolled my eyes at what had come to be a regular post-ejaculation plea. “Oh please. I’ll do anything. I’ll pay anything. I’ve never gotten off this much in my entire life. You make me the happiest guy in the world. I need you, man. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t see you. If I’m obsessed it’s only because you’re the hottest thing ever. Please say yes to tomorrow night. We can go to dinner anywhere you want. I’ll even send the car to pick you up. I need you so much.” The beast at my feet was one of the strongest men in the world. It was official. He had trophies along one wall of this room in his penthouse to prove it. I’d watched him lift cars and big round stones, pull big trucks, hoist huge logs above his head, and a lot more on television numerous times. He’d always text me to let me know when he would be ‘performing just for me’ – as he liked to put it - and then he’d sign off by sending five or six smiling faces blowing kisses. He also told me to watch for when he’d reach down and blatantly adjust his big package – that was his secret message just for me and he did it every time he competed. This was his way of saying hello. I usually got quizzed about it after the show had aired – as if he were checking to make sure I had been watching. Some of the announcers on sports channels had started calling this particular moment ‘The Grab’ and many bloggers had started posting gifs of the big guy doing it over and over. This action seemed to make him more popular than any other strongman in history. “Get up off the floor. It’s unflattering. You’re acting like a love-struck elementary schoolgirl. You can pull sixteen wheelers the length of football fields, for goodness sake. We’ve talked about how unbecoming this is. If you want me to keep coming over, big man, you’ve got to get ahold of yourself. You need to act like the huge man you are.” “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m so scared of losing you.” He stood up and towered over me. His thick body oozed strength and masculinity and, yet, he was head-over-heels in love with me and that fact seemed to zap every ounce of testosterone that existed in bulging muscles. I had been able to get him to play a certain part when we were roleplaying during sex – and he had gotten really good at it – but most of the time he frantically worried that I might stop caring for him. I had tried to get him to act like the back breaking, foot stomping dominator all the time, but he couldn’t do it. He wanted to be that guy who opened doors for me, showered me with gifts, held my hand in public, and even begged me to wear matching shirts. It was a little disconcerting seeing such a behemoth cowering at your feet. I needed his attitude to match the outside package – even if just for a few minutes. “Flex for me.” He shot his huge arms immediately into a double biceps pose. My wilted cock rocketed hard in my jeans as quickly as his thick guns sprang upward with what could only be called menacing power. The dude was simply huge behind comprehension. Even his hands were massive to the point where people always said they were morphed in pictures – and yet there had been absolutely no alteration. I took him through a litany of memorized esteem boosters – a praxis of muscledom, if you will, to help him be the man I wanted him to be. “Who are you?” “I’m your colossal beast.” “And what do you do?” “Anything I want to.” “And who am I?” “My plaything.” These statements were not emitted in the bone-chilling growl he used mere minutes ago when he showered me with his cum – an eruption produced simply because he could have destroyed me with one foot. No, these answers were spoken as if he were a child trying to please a teacher. The tone of his voice and his internal demeanor was in direct conflict to the enormous guns flexing powerfully beside his much-higher-than-my head. I marveled for a few seconds at the disconnect – here was a man that could snap me in two with little effort, actually break my bones into little pieces, but his eyes and his aura were groveling for my affirmation. He was desperate for my approval - my love. I stared at his gorgeous massive body and was tempted to entice him back into a brief sexual scene where he’d dutifully play the role of a pornographic Hercules ready to rip me apart with no more energy than what is used for an afterthought. It was so tempting to have him become monster again – just to please me. There were, however, other tricks to be had that evening. There was more money to be made. “At ease, beast, at ease. I’ll let you know about tomorrow night. Maybe I can squeeze a couple of hours in with you – that is, if you promise to not throw down all this wimpy ‘I need you’ crap. Can’t you try to be the beast even when we’re not roleplaying?” “I . . . I want to . . . for you, man, but . . . it’s just too difficult. I really do need you. I . . . I love you.” “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What have I told you about letting that phrase flow across your lips so easily? You’d have us checking out china patterns tomorrow morning if it was your decision. That phrase is a sure sign it’s time for me to go. I’ll text you tomorrow afternoon, big guy. And do not – I repeat – do not start sending me love messages the second I step out of this condo. I mean it. You wait for me to text you tomorrow afternoon. That will be your sign that I am awake and ready to respond to all your bullshit. You understand me, beast?” “Yes . . . sir. Can I . . . ask . . . uh . . . one favor, though. Will you . . . um, please text me that you’ve gotten home safely?” I stood there dumbfounded by the fact that a guy who could probably smash through thin concrete walls if he really wanted to would be sheepishly asking me to let him know I had driven a short fifteen minutes on one-in-the-morning empty streets. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d probably see two more guys before the sun came up, so I did what I always did. I placated the guy. “Okay, I’ll text you when I’m home – but you’re only allowed one ‘sweet dreams’ reply after that. I mean it. You hear me, beast?” He nodded his head. I was at the door but he beat me opening it – as he always did. His need to please me, to take care of me was even more powerful than all of his huge muscles combined. He had now fallen into a ‘what will I do without you for the next twenty hours’ silence, which I had gotten used to. I stepped into the hallway and turned to look toward him. I needed my last image to be that of the Beast, not the love-sick puppy.. “Right arm” He immediately flexed the humongous gun hard – as if his life depended on it. It was a magnificent display of masculinity and strength. I shook my head a little. I was baffled by the fact that someone who could toss my entire body around as easily as most people bounced a beach ball in their hand could be so desperate for my affection. His arm clearly looked like it should – like it possessed the power I knew it did. It was wild to know that his strong gun could easily break my bones into tiny fragments and, yet, it would never ever cross this guy’s mind to actually hurt me. He simply played a role because I ordered it, because I knew it would help him get off. I turned and walked toward the elevator, knowing the massive beast-puppy was following – like a giant shadow thrown behind me by the bright lamp in the hallway.

I had no idea how the seemingly flimsy white tank top stayed plastered to his insanely jacked-up body. He’d take a deep breath or move his upper torso slightly and the material would stretch so tightly that I expected to hear it ‘snap’ apart at any second. The cotton somehow amazingly extended to accommodate a chest that was so big you’d expect the pectoral muscles to sag, but instead they were clearly hard as hell and protruded outward like some kind of incredible manly mountain cliff dominating the area around it. At the same time the guy’s arms bulged so massively round that if one of them had been the only thing you were able to see you would have still instantly known the guy was so humongous that you’d actually feel sorry for the metal stool straining hard to support his body as he sat at the bar. Like the anticipated sound of ripping material, I also expected to hear steel screeching as the legs of the piece of furniture crushed downward from the weight. His jeans had obviously been painted onto his body – since they were so tight I could actually see rippling veins snaking across his insanely thick covered muscled quads. I was pretty sure he’d have to be cut out of the denim when he finally wanted to take the pants off. Either that or he’d simply flex his legs and the things would be destroyed in one loud burst of material. The body had my heart racing and my cock pulsing hard, but the handsome face equaled the rest of this Greek god. I say Greek because the dude was the perfect example of the term ‘olive skin.’ He was dark, but not in any sort of fake-tan kind of way. His skin was simply radiantly glowing and smooth as expensive silk. The stubble across his face was intentional – part beard and part facial accessory that emphasized the guy’s masculinity. It was definitely a pretty face, but the cut angles and jawline made the guy more rough than beautiful. It was the kind of face that could stop traffic. The piercing green eyes under heavy brows added some mystique to the man – and a little naughtiness. He also had the kind of wavy hair most people hated – because you knew he woke up, ran his hands through the thickness a couple of times, and it all looked perfect. There wasn’t a guy in the place that hadn’t noticed Mr. Hugeness – a nickname I had given the dude as I watched him drink what I gathered was an Irish whiskey on ice. When he swallowed his neck muscles tensed a little from the delicious burning sensation and just that simple movement made everyone hold their breath. Even the dude’s neck was thick as hell and rippled with power. I don’t know if the guy noticed us all drooling over him or if he simply assumed it would be that way since he had clearly been gigantic for a long, long time. I marveled at the fact that his feet rested fully on the ground while most guys sitting on the stools at the bar found their own dangling inches above the floor – and desperately sought out metal rungs that wrapped around the legs to support themselves. He didn’t look at anyone. He was simply staring at the bottles lined up behind the bar and sipping his drink. I was about to force myself to stop staring at the guy when I noticed something that no one else seemed to be aware of – there was a mirror behind the bottom two rows of bottles. The dude could actually survey the entire room easily – but his gaze wasn’t moving. It was fixated on one thing – me. When my eyes caught those of Mr. Hugeness I cannot begin to describe the feelings that shot through my body. Let’s just say there was a mixture of fear and excitement that seemed to make every hair that existed anywhere on me stand straight up in shock. I couldn’t move my eyes. They were locked with his and he didn’t look away either. There was a slight grin on his face – it wasn’t a cocky grin at all. It was more like a smile that showed how happy he was I finally noticed the mirrors. I suddenly felt very dizzy as I gazed into his green eyes. There was such a mixture of gentleness and masculinity in his face. I watched – mesmerized – as he motioned to the space to his right with those two gorgeous emeralds. I immediately knew he wanted me to join him at the bar. I left my half-full drink and walked like someone hypnotized toward his huge frame. When I was a about a foot away he turned slightly to the guy sitting on the stool beside him, reached out a huge hand grabbing the back of the guy’s neck, and squeezed slightly. “Hey, buddy, my friend here would like to sit beside me. You don’t mind, do you?” There was absolutely no meanness in the question, but it was quite clear to everyone within hearing distance what the right answer should be. I can’t lie – there was part of me that wanted the little dude to refuse because I knew I’d get to see the huge paw circling more than half his neck do some damage, but I knew instantly that there wasn’t a guy on earth that would be stupid enough to argue with Mr. Hugeness. The little guy simply shook his head no and quickly slinked off the stool. I could see the relieved look on his face as soon as the giant hand was no longer draped around him. It had probably felt like a ton of bricks bearing down on him. Suddenly, that same big paw was pressing against my back and scooting my body across the floor toward the stool – my feet actually skidding the entire short distance. I was being easily jetted toward my resting place by the guy’s big arm. Even in the midst of all that was going on I stopped to notice that the guy’s fingers spread out across my entire lower back, reminding me of how huge he actually was. When my body reached the metal stool the dude kind of half lifted-half tossed me up on the seat by sliding his hand down to my ass and scooping me up like I weighed nothing at all. Once I was on my new perch I turned to look at Mr. Hugeness. The first thing I saw was his wide-as-a-small-door arm. I would have easily thought it was some guy’s big leg instead of a biceps if I hadn’t already been staring at the thing for most of the evening. I was so mesmerized that I didn’t realize my mouth was wide open and I was making gurgling sounds like a baby. It’s just that I was completely blown away by the guy’s massive gun. It looked pumped as hell even though it hung at his side un-tensed. A highway of blood-pulsing veins mapped their way around the expanse of hard muscle. To say the guy’s arm bulged was an understatement. It was more like it blimped – cause that’s what it looked like, some kind of huge dirigible filled with something a hell of lot more substantial that hot air. It appeared to be so packed with condensed meat that the dude wouldn’t have been able to touch his own head even if he had tried with all his might – I just don’t think the thing could bend that much. There were so many tiers of beef on his relaxed arm I was sure when he flexed it looked like multiple biceps stacked on top of each other. His skin looked tighter than stretched leather and I figured it crackled like old cowboy boots when he moved it. I would have stayed in my big-gun trance all night long if he hadn’t spoken. “Am I big enough for you?” he asked. “And then some,” I quickly and absent-mindedly shot back – not taking my eyes away from his arm. This made him laugh, which in turn made his big-as-a-house chest jiggle up and down. That was the only thing that could have torn my eyes away from his gun. I watched the thick, hard, meaty pecs bounce up and down and loved how his big-as-my-thumb nipples poked menacingly against the material of his tank top. It struck me that the shirt looked like a fisherman’s net trying desperately to hold two whales captive. It seemed that the giant beasts might break free at any second. When the huge man took a breath his mammoth chest inflated even more and it was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. I was definitely an arm man, because I thought a man’s guns always showed off his power, but this dude’s chest was so incredibly packed with muscle that it oozed masculinity the way too much perfume could permeate a cramped space. This guy clearly had so much testosterone zooming through his body that it caused me to feel cocky, too. It was as if he had a he-man fever that enveloped my body, as well, and made me much more confident than ever before. I suddenly realized my mouth was wide open again and my tongue was flicking up and down – desperate to taste his hefty nipples. I think the big man realized I was about to self-destruct because he spoke again – as if to make me focus on something other than his enormous pec shelf. “I’m into little guys who are into muscle,” he said in a voice that was so fucking sexy that I bet he could make some guys bust a major wad just by reading the phone book. “And I’m into muscled giants that like to play with little guys,” I said quickly and my response actually made him choke a little on the sip of his drink he had just taken. “Just how fucking tall are you?” “Six-ten,” he answered, and then added, “How’s all that height make you feel?” “Like ten hours of intense foreplay,” I responded. “You sure know how to build up a guy,” he said – laughing lightly. “And you sure know how to intimidate one,” I replied. I paused for a second and then added, “Besides, there’s no way anyone could build YOU up anymore than you already are.” For the first time since sitting down I tore my eyes from his huge body and looked up into his face, noticing that the muscles in his neck, cheeks, and chin looked stronger than hell, too. How in the world did a guy work out that part of his body? His eyes locked on mine and neither of us blinked. I was instantly lost in those beautiful pools – realizing again that his manly beauty matched his awesome body. The immaculate scruffiness that covered his face made his pouty lips stand out even more. The dude was so handsome he could make your cock ache. He had this intense look on his face – as if he was trying hard to not devour me right then and there. Finally, he broke into a drop-dead gorgeous smile and I felt my stomach turn over numerous times. “You’re wicked cute,” he said. “You’re beastly handsome,” I answered. “You don’t have to match every compliment,” he said, taking another sip of his drink. “I can’t help myself,” I responded. “But I’ll try my best to stop. So, Mr. Hugeness – the nickname I gave you when I was sitting over there – are you going to buy me a drink?” “You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, little man,” he said in a cheery voice that made it clear he liked how confident I was. “Your obvious cockiness is infectious,” I answered. “What’ll you have?” he asked as he signaled the bartender over. “You,” I answered. This made him smile even more. I had no idea how I was mustering so much boldness. It really did have to be a by-product of being so close to such a colossal muscleman, but it was still a little surprising. I could tell it was pleasing him, so that probably egged me on even more. I wanted him to like me. I wanted him to like me very much. He acknowledged my comment with a little nod of his head and then it was clear he was waiting for my drink order. “I’ll have what you’re having,” I said, glancing at his glass. He tapped his drink and then held up two fingers to the guy behind the bar. I glanced down at his hand and almost ejaculated on the spot. His fingers made the large tumbler containing his drink look like a shot glass. I quickly figured out that it would take two and a half of my fingers to match his giant forefinger. When he bent the thing it bulged like a biceps. I kid you not – his fingers had mounds of muscle that peaked when he flexed them. He saw where my gaze was and he spread his fingers out and laid his hand on the bar. I knew what he wanted me to do – he was showing off and I was right there with him. I reached up and placed my tiny paw on top of his. I noticed first and foremost that his skin was as hard as I anticipated – clearly stretched to the max over the muscles underneath. I then gasped a little when I saw that my fingers came just a little beyond his knuckles and the expanse of my hand was about five times smaller than his. I was in shock, but I was not speechless. Without even removing my gaze from our size difference I spoke to him. “My, what big hands you have,” I said. “The better to lift you with,” he responded. I instantly moved my hand away from his. He had no idea what that little statement would do to me. I knew it was very important to not have any physical contact with him as I struggled to prevent his words from making me explode like an ignited firework. I had many fetishes, but being lifted by a huge guy was one of the images that helped me jerk off more than any other. He, of course, had no idea about my lust for being picked up – or did he just assume it. Maybe he could read me like a book and would, as I so wanted him to be able to, fulfill every one of my secret desires. “Um . . . I kind of have a thing . . . I mean I get off on the idea of being a barbell for a bigger guy. You’ll have to . . . uh . . . be careful what images you put in my head or I might make a mess,” I shared with him and it felt like I was in a confessional. He smiled at my revelation and I saw him file the knowledge away, as if for later use. This thrilled me and made me nervous at the same time. I really did have a huge intense lust for being lifted whether it was overhead with two arms, grabbing me underneath my shoulders, or one handed around my neck, it didn’t matter. Feeling my feet leave the ground because of some guy’s power was the quickest way for me to move to leaking a gob of pre-cum. Big hands grabbing me roughly and hoisting me like I weighed nothing – as if the huge guns could toss my little body over some building – that was hotter than most anything I could think of. There’d been a few guys in my life that had been able to bear hug me off the ground and one guy had cranked out a couple of pushups with me on his back, but I’d never been blessed with a dude big enough to toss me around like some stuffed animal. I had a feeling, though; my luck was about to change. The big man leaned down toward me and inhaled deeply. “Yeah,” he said, smiling, “I thought I smelled a strength whore. I was hoping you liked to be manhandled. Cause you see, bud, I can spurt oceans of cum showing off my muscle power. Yeah, you won’t be the only one that gets rock hard when I crank your body up into the air. I especially like to stand in front of mirror when I do it man, so I can see your face and my body at the same time. I bet you’ll get off on one-armed presses almost as much as I do. I’m a power pig, too, man. You haven’t cornered that market.” Again, my mouth dropped open wide and I stared at him as if he were some kind of alien. I couldn’t believe my ears. It never even began to enter my brain that some big dude might like lifting other guys. It was almost unfathomable to me that a massive muscle guy could explode just from watching himself show off his power. My understanding of the world was being expanded in seconds – there was a muscle paradigm shift happening and it was huge. If he had touched me at that moment I would have shot off like a cannon. I was so wound up sexually that he could have popped me with one finger. I, however, was still in control enough to speak. “You have no idea how much it pleases me to hear you say that,” I teased. “I was thinking I was the last strength junkie in the world. I wonder, though, if you’ll be able to keep up with me.” This made him laugh deeply as he pulled back up to his full height on the stool. He inhaled slightly just to inflate his already ridiculously large body – instantly intimidating me with one slight breath. His confidence radiated out of every pore. He didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. His mere presence was proof of his god-like dominance, but I could tell he loved how I verbally tested him. It was as if he was Hercules and he was going through his proverbial labors right here in the bar. I could tell he loved how I teased him, but we both knew he was up for any challenge I could offer. This was just all foreplay for the main event later on. He was more than willing to cock-tease me as an appetizer, but it was clear that I’d be joining him for a multiple-course dinner later on. He took a sip of his drink – to either calm himself down or create a dramatic pause. I couldn’t figure out which. “I wouldn’t be thinking all this muscle is just for show, little man,” he said looking down at me with a big smile. I’ve come by most of my size by lifting things a hell of a lot heavier than you. Don’t get me wrong – massive muscle is in my DNA, but unless you shove some major metal around a guy like me is just going to be kind of beefy and end up looking like some washed-out high school football coach still longing for his glory days. Does this body look past its prime to you?” “No,” I sputtered out quickly, “it certainly doesn’t.” “That’s right, bud,” he continued. “Right now I’m bigger and stronger than ever in my entire life – but the really cool thing is that I’m still growing. And that means I only getting more powerful, too. I’ll be able to keep up with your fantasies of what you’d do if you ever met some huge powerful muscleman. I’m actually going to go way beyond what you ever dreamed of. I’m going to expand your limited strength fetish to things you only thought were possible in the comics. I have a feeing we’ll both be offering up major loads in honor of my power. You see, my good friend, impressing the shit out of you is my number one goal.” “You already have,” I quickly shot back. “And yet I haven’t even flexed, let alone done anything powerful,” he answered just as quickly.

Bruce Banner pulled the hood of his light parka over his head in an effort to ward of the increasing cold of a sunny, but frigid day in the woods of upstate New York. He continued to make his way toward his isolated destination. It was something of a struggle, and he had gotten lost more than a couple of times, but he felt sure he was closing in on the place that had once been his home in what now seemed like another lifetime. He stopped for a moment to have a more careful look at his surroundings. A familiar creek worked its way south not far ahead. To the east - he recognized a series of glacial gorges. Which meant, he thought to himself as he peered further up the side of the low rise he was currently scaling, that he was nearly there. He quickened his pace and soon crested the shallow ridge. He stood for a moment panting, allowing himself a small triumphant smile as he looked out over what remained of the Northwind Observatory. A few moment's worth of inspection, even at a distance, was all it took to cause his wan smile to fade to a more melancholy expression. There wasn't much left. The forest had reclaimed much, undaunted by the massive chain-link and barbed-wire perimeter designed to ward off the occasional curious hiker or hunter. The massive, revolving dome that once housed his gamma-scope's main collector appeared largely intact underneath a decade or so of vines and creepers. Which, he knew, was more than could be said for the gamma-scope itself - the machine that had brought him back to this place. But with a little help from a couple of old acquaintances, he hoped to change that. He scanned the sky, then checked his watch. He was a little early - plenty of time to make his way to the main gate of the perimeter fence. He set off with a renewed sense of determination, now that his destination was in sight and had almost made it there when he first detected a subtle mechanical whine from overhead. He stopped and cast a glance skyward through a gap in the tree canopy in time to see what looked like an ordinary automobile - except this one happened to be flying, its modified, swiveling wheels gimbaling to aim directional thrusters that vented out the wheel hubs. Picking up his pace further, he emerged into a clearing in front of the main gate to find the car he had seen moments ago was now settled on the ground just in front of him on all four wheels. For a moment, he locked eyes with the driver in the car's rear-view mirror. Eyes that though familiar, he had not seen for years. Bruce swallowed nervously as he heard the clunk of the car-door opening. A slender, dark-haired woman of around his own age eased out of the car and turned to face him. She smiled wistfully. "Hello Bruce." Bruce hadn't known what he was going to say until the words actually fell out of his mouth. "It's good to see you Kate." She let out a small bark of a laugh and looked away toward the ruined observatory as though she wasn't sure she believed that. "You look like Hell." She pointed out. Bruce laughed at the directness of that. Apparently, Kate Waynesboro had lost some of her reticence since they had worked together here, all those years ago. But then again, at this point, he wasn't sure he remembered how much of that had been genuine and how much had been part of her cover. "You don't." Bruce replied. "Looks like the life of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent agrees with you." That brought a sharp appraising look from the woman. Bruce got the idea that she was trying to figure out if he was daring to try and get flirtatious with this woman who had, at least once upon a time, had deep feelings for him...feelings he had never quite returned. Bruce tried to preempt such a misunderstanding by earnestly holding her gaze as he spoke. "You didn't have to come here Kate. You didn't have to do any of this. All I can say is, it's important that you did...and thank you." Kate considered that for a moment and it seemed to satisfy her that Bruce was sincere. A small smile returned to her face as she pulled back a stray lock of raven hair from in front of her eyes. "You really do look like Hell, Bruce. What is going on with you?" She removed a small device from her pocket and approached the high gate. Bruce fell in step behind her. "I'm just going through a rough patch." He said, not volunteering any specifics. "Yes, well - it never was easy being green, was it?" She asked dryly. If Bruce was reluctant to have Kate drawn further into the circumstances of his life, that seemed fine with her. She had been down that road before. Kate placed the cylindrical device she held into a circular receptacle built into a panel on the gate. It produced a series of beeps and flashes of colored lights that were then mimicked by the panel and the gate swung open with a rusty squeal. Kate continued forward into the compound purposefully. "I was able to retrieve most of the equipment you requested from where the Avengers had it warehoused, with Tony Stark's cooperation. He must owe you a lot of favors." Kate added as she led Bruce to a massive shipping container that rested near the center of the overgrown grounds. "He manufactured replacements for the necessary equipment that had been destroyed and I calibrated everything according to the specs we used back in the good old days. He choppered in the whole kit and caboodle an hour ago." She finished, gesturing to the shipping container. Bruce moved eagerly to the container and took hold of a large, heavy lever set into the metal door. He heaved but it wouldn't budge. He stepped back, dusting his hands and turned to face Kate with a reluctant look. "What's wrong?" she asked, crossing her arms. "It's hard to keep track but aren't you currently able to summon and control your big green pal at will?" He could, of course. But ironically, as Kate had said before, it really wasn't easy for him to be green these days. In fact, it took a tremendous amount of concentration to trigger and maintain his transformation into the Hulk. These days, the primitive splinter personality that had always most directly controlled the savage power of the Hulk spent all of his time cowering deep inside Banner's subconscious mind, making the transformation difficult to affect. But even if transforming had been a cinch, Bruce was hesitant to do so in front of Kate. She had suffered some pretty rough treatment at the hands of the brute in the past. He wasn't sure how to explain that the shame he felt over inflicting such abuse on a woman he did genuinely care for - though maybe never actually loved - would make it even more difficult to transform into his massive alter-ego in her presence. "I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I think I need to do the rest of this...on my own." Bruce offered delicately. Kate considered that in silence for half a second, then blinked in mild surprise. "Oh. Sorry." She fumbled the electronic key she had used to open the gate from her coat pocket and proffered it to Bruce awkwardly. "I'll uh, leave you to it then." Bruce took Kate's hand along with the key she offered and squeezed it gently. "Thank you Kate...for coming." He nodded his head toward the cargo container. "Thanks for all of it." They locked eyes again and Kate offered him a final genuine, if brief, smile then turned and made her way back out of the compound. Bruce stood, staring blankly, lost in thought and memory until he heard the faint sound of the S.H.I.E.L.D. flying car's turbines spin up, then fade completely into the distance. Then he stripped off his clothing, leaving only his specially designed underwear. He closed his eyes and concentrated, struggling to ignore the cold. He knew that in a minute or so it would no longer affect him. He felt his body burgeon; with size, with power, with near invulnerability. At the same time he knew all that power was nowhere near enough. He needed more and the gamma-scope would give it to him. The only time he felt any stirrings from his brutish alternate persona these days was when he had this thought about the potential of the gamma-scope. Otherwise, it remained humbled, cowering quietly in fear deep inside his mind. This angered Bruce. The idea that the Hulk would reemerge and try to take back control only AFTER Bruce had done all the hard work of repairing the gamma-scope and using it to vastly increase the gamma-spawned might of the body they unwillingly shared. Bruce had been stunned by the might of young Christopher O'Malley but having the kid effortlessly humble him had done a real number on the Hulk persona. The Hulk's very self-identity was largely rooted in being the "strongest one there was". It had simply been psychologically devastating to be so thoroughly out-manned by the massive teen, who had devastated the Hulk in their first encounter and done so with little more than the almost playful flexing of his larger and far more powerful mutant muscles. Banner returned to the shipping container and effortlessly flipped the thick metal lever of the locking mechanism. It looked as though he had two fronts on which he might soon be doing battle. Reigning in a potentially out of control, awesomely powerful muscle-teen and keeping the Hulk from gaining the upper hand once more in their decades old struggle for dominance. As Banner stood lost in his thoughts before the huge open container, it suddenly began to levitate off the ground. Bruce stumbled back a step in surprise and watched wide-eyed as the container rose higher into the air. "Need a hand with the heavy-lifting?" A male voice asked. The container seemed to float up to a stop nearly level with the top of the Hulk's head. The surprised behemoth could see that below the container, hoisting it effortlessly overhead with one hand, stood Leonard Samson. Banner hadn't seen Samson in quite some time. Bruce always felt a pang of jealousy everytime he laid eyes on the strapping, gamma-powered hercules. Samson had been transformed into a muscular powerhouse by gamma radiation in much the same way that Bruce had been transformed into the Hulk. But in Samson's case, the handsome psychiatrist had retained all his intellect, not to mention that his physique, though mightily enhanced, had not been distorted into a border-line grotesquery like the Hulk. Instead Samson had become a perfect specimen of muscle and temperament, his only abnormal feature - green hair, which only seemed to add an exotic undercurrent to the man's otherwise classic good-looks. "Leonard?" The Hulk asked, blinking as though to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. "What are you doing here?" Samson grinned at the Hulk's confusion as he tossed the container up and down slightly. "Kate consulted with me on your recent request for help." Bruce's eyes narrowed. "You're no physicist." "No." Samson agreed. "Kate and Tony Stark were well up to the technical challenges, but she seemed to think that your...frame of mind might bear a little investigation." Bruce crossed his massive arms and tried not to let it show how much that bothered him. Until today, he had only spoken with Kate about his current predicament via telephone - and then only to cryptically ask for her help. That the woman could still read him so easily, years after they had ended their association, bugged him. Bruce snatched the shipping container away from Samson on the next toss, ultimately unable to hide his irritation. He stumbled to maintain his balance as he accepted the huge weight of it (The way Samson had been handling the container made it appear lighter than it was) and stalked off toward the dock area of Northwind Observatory. "Like I told Kate, this is something I want to do on my own." Samson shook his head behind the Hulk, then started after him. "Tough. Until I'm sure you aren't up to something that could potentially destabilize your psyche, I'm not going anywhere. You've only regained control of the Hulk recently and you haven't exactly been forthcoming about how you managed it this time. But I aim to do everything in my power to make sure you retain that control." The Hulk inserted the cargo container into a docking door and then turned his attention to a large set of metal double-doors set into the building near to the docks. He threw the doors open to reveal a bank of large breaker switches and began to flip them all to the "on" position. All the while he calmly ignored Doc Samson. The hum of machinery began to emanate from various points inside the abandoned observatory. As Banner threw the last of the switches, he was surprised to feel Samson grip him by the shoulder from behind and spin the Hulk around to face his former psychiatrist. "Why are you trying to make the Hulk stronger?" Samson asked point blank. Apparently, Bruce's efforts to keep his objective here at Northwind a secret were for naught. The surprise must have registered on his face. "Yeah, I know what you're up to here." Samson smirked as he crossed his muscular arms across his chest. "I have enough experience with gamma-ray-spawned muscle to have figured that out, even if I'm not a physicist". "Look Leonard, don't you know me well enough to trust that I'm doing this for a reason - a good one? If this doesn't work - " "Oh, it'll work." Samson assured Bruce. This brought Bruce up short. "I’m not even sure this will work. How can you be so confident?" Bruce asked. Samson sighed, ignoring the question. "Big picture, Bruce; Until I'm satisfied that you aren't going to lose control of the Hulk again, I'm not letting you go through with this." Bruce stared down at the shorter man incredulously. "You? Are not going to 'let' me?” Bruce gave a short mocking laugh as he looked around. "Just who is going to help you stop me?" "My Pal, Lefty, should be all the help I need." Samson brought up his left arm and flexed his biceps. "But I brought back-up, just in case." He added, bringing his right arm up and flexing it along with his other. Bruce actually felt his jaw collide with the top of his bulging green pecs as his mouth fell open. Though Samson was shorter, he now sported biceps that were as big as the Hulk's. Bruce swallowed nervously as he reluctantly conceded to himself the possibility that they might actually be even bigger. It took Bruce several long seconds to compose himself. Dr. Leonard Samson now stood before him with a subtle, but distinct look of challenge on his face as he displayed mightily flexing biceps that somehow seemed to loom over Bruce's current manifestation of the incredible Hulk - even though the Hulk was easily taller than the green-haired Samson. "You - you exposed yourself to the procedure?!” Bruce slowly began to shake his head. “You could have been killed!" He finally bellowed. Samson ceased his phenomenal flexing and returned his arms to his side, laughing. He seemed a little too proud of himself for Bruce's taste. "Now Bruce, you may be the undisputed expert when it comes to the effects of gamma-radiation on biological tissues, but Kate Waynesboro is no slouch. And with the advances in biotech that Tony Stark has made since you last powered up the gamma-scope, setting up a trial run of the procedure you outlined was a cinch." As he finished explaining, Samson's maddening, too-pleased-with-himself grin broadened as he bounced up on the balls of his feet like a smug school boy. He alternately flexed his pecs rapidly to show off more of the results of the successful deployment of Banner's gamma-scope. Immediately the threads holding the single done-up button of the collar of the casual pull-over shirt Samson wore snapped, sending that button whizzing by Bruce's head. It didn't take very long before the fabric too succumbed to the pulsating expansion and a jagged tear parted the shirt from the collar to a point near the bottom of the psychiatrist's left pec. "Ha!" Samson barked. "I've always wanted to be able to do that." Despite the cold, he stripped off the remains of the ruined shirt and inspected his broad, thick pecs. "I think I might still be getting bigger." He added more analytically. "How nice for you." Bruce responded with a slight sneer and turned toward the dock entranceway to Northwind Observatory. "I don't have time for this." Samson reluctantly tore himself away from his self-evaluation and followed Bruce. "Look, seriously Bruce, see reason here. You know what the Hulk is like when you aren't in control. Now imagine him on a rampage with the kind of power you apparently want to impart to yourself." Bruce laughed hollowly. "Unlike you, I don't have to use my imagination to know what that kind of out-of-control muscle can do." "You're missing the point." Samson insisted. "If you lost control after such an augmentation, the damage could be far worse than anything the Hulk's done in the past." Bruce turned on Samson, his impatience mounting. "No, YOU are missing the point...I'm not talking about the Hulk!" Samson blinked for a few moments as he sorted out what Bruce was getting at. After a few speechless seconds, Samson had to struggle to keep a grin off his face. "Someone kicked your ass." Bruce rolled his eyes, turned away from Samson and continued stalking toward the entrance to Northwind. Samson persisted, following close on Bruce's heels. "That's it, isn't it? Someone managed to take the Hulk down. And from how it's rattled you, I'd guess they took him down pretty hard." Bruce pulled the locked door of the dock entrance off it's reinforced hinges and tossed the heavy metal bulk of it aside with ease. "You know, it may not be my field of expertise, but I've always thought that you had an unhealthy fascination with the idea of being stronger than the Hulk." Still paying as little attention to Samson as he could, Bruce pressed the button that would raise the door to the dock where he had placed the shipping container, clearly intending to bring inside the gamma-scope and the support equipment held within. As the door rattled upward on its tracks, Samson interposed his muscular frame between Bruce and the doorway. "Hey, you stick to your 'field of expertise' and I'll stick to mine." Samson said, leveling his gaze as much as was possible at the taller man. "Unhealthy fascination or not, I am stronger than you now Bruce." He added smugly. The submerged primitive persona of the Hulk surged with anger somewhere inside Bruce's mind at hearing this declaration. Bruce sighed wearily. "Leonard, we've been down this road before. It's highly unlikely that you and Kate were able to get the kind of yield I am expecting to achieve with the gamma-scope. I didn't share all the details of the collection protocol - new details that I have never incorporated before. Kate couldn't have known about them." "All the more reason for you to back off of this whole project until I can get up to speed on your current situation. I'll conduct an evaluation and if everything seems kosher, then I'll let you proceed." "There's no time for a stupid evaluation!!" Bruce shouted angrily, before struggling to reign in his temper enough to continue. "And the point I'm trying to get across to you is that you may have been able to pull off a rudimentary execution of the gamma-ray infusion procedure, but face it Samson, you've never really been in my league and I doubt that you are now, even after whatever boost you may have gotten from the gamma-scope. So you can dispense with the posturing and intimidation". "Stupid?" Samson repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That's a nasty, demeaning word. I don't think I've ever heard you use it before, Bruce." Samson rubbed his jaw with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Now who does like to toss that word around a lot?" "I am going to tell you this one time Samson." Bruce growled menacingly. "I am in control here." Bruce moved closer to Samson as he spoke. "Now, you are going to move aside." Bruce continued, now glowering down at Samson. "Or I'm going to move you." "If that's how you want this to play out." Samson played at giving an ambivalent shrug. "Your call." Bruce could tell that despite the other man's implication that any fight between them would be Bruce's own choice, Samson was the one itching to test himself against the Hulk once again. Bruce realized that Samson wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted. So be it. The first thing Bruce needed to do was make sure their tussle didn't damage any of his equipment. "Fine, you win." Bruce pretended to relent, acting as though his bluff had been called . He placed what he hoped seemed like a friendly hand on Samson's thick shoulder. "I realize that you only want what's best". The smug, expectant look vanished from Samson's face, replaced by one of confused disappointment. "Uh yeah, I'm er...glad to see you come around on this." Having took down Samson's guard, the Hulk's grip on the man's shoulder rapidly ramped up in power until his massive green hand was exerting the crushing force of a hydraulic press. The Hulk then quickly whirled around and hurled Samson through one of the empty docking bay doors. The door was torn apart like tin-foil as Samson blasted through it and sailed through the air to land near the perimeter fence far across the compound from the docking bay. The Hulk tore through the ragged hole left by Samson's body enlarging it further and leaped after him, landing almost on top of the recovering man. "Stay down, Leonard!" Bruce warned as he forced Samson onto his back by planting a massive green foot on the prone man's chest. To prevent possibly being kicked, the Hulk had pinned both of Samson's ankles to the ground by standing on them with his other foot. "Ungffff! You've...learned some rather dirty tricks since the last time we scrapped." Samson grunted as he pushed at the Hulk's foot. "I wouldn't have thought you had in it in you. Don't know whether to be impressed or disappointed." "As long as you stop interfering with me, I don't care one way or the other." Now it was Bruce's turn to be smug. God it felt good to win a fight again. "Do we have a deal? Are you going to stop resisting me?" "Unghh...depends..." Samson replied. "Today's Wednesday, right?" "Huh? Umm, yes. I mean - what's that got to do with -" "I work abs; Monday, Wednesday, Saturday." Samson quipped. At that, Bruce felt the area of Samson's abdomen pinned by his heel harden exponentially. Samson stopped shoving at the Hulk's foot and put his hands behind his head and slowly started sitting up, forcing against the Hulks foot and leg. The inhumanly thick muscles in the Hulk's quads and calf flared to even greater girth as the Hulk drove his foot harder against Samson's chest. Samson gritted his teeth, snarled and pushed back forcing his shoulders up off the dirt and forcing the Hulk's massive leg to lose ground against him. With a burst of effort, Samson sat almost all the way upright. "Oh, yeah." He grunted. "One." The sudden movement had the Hulk struggling not to pitch over backward when suddenly Samson clamped both hands on the top of the Hulk's foot, pressing it firmly against his chest as he relaxed and settled back onto his back once more. Holding the Hulk's foot to his chest like someone might hold a free-weight plate for resistance, Samson grunted and then the Hulk barely had time to fully regain his balance before once again the Hulk felt pressure mount beneath his foot as Samson started to sit up again. "I said STAY DOWN!!" The Hulk shouted and shifted his weight more directly over Samson as he simultaneously pressed the outer edge of that green foot - massive as a bridge pylon - against Samson's throat. With a flex of his bare pecs, Samson forced the Hulk's foot up and away from his throat. He fixed Bruce with his eyes. "Now that was a nasty move, I don't recall ever seeing you this determined." Samson observed as he powered up to nearly a full sitting position again. "Two." He added, with satisfaction. As he both struggled to maintain his balance and fight back against Samson, every giant muscle in the Hulk's mighty legs surged huge with effort, but Samson didn't yield. "I usually do a few hundred of these, Bruce." Samson said haughtily, then lowered his heavily muscled torso back to a prone position. "Hope you have some time to kill." Bruce flailed for balance. "Let go of me!" He insisted angrily as he finally managing to wrench his foot out of Samon's grip. His temper getting the better of him, Bruce then drove his freed foot hard into Samson abdomen. Samson, caught between flexing his superhuman abs, had the wind partially knocked from his sails by this vicious attack, but even so, he laughed almost giddily as his lower torso was driven a couple of feet into the ground. Bruce retreated a few steps, taken aback by how his temper was getting away from him. Samson's head, forearms and lower legs protruded almost comically from the shallow crater Bruces stomp had embedded him in. The effect was enhanced by his continued laughter. The man sounded more like he was recovering from a bout of intense tickling than from being stomped into the ground by the Incredible Hulk. Samson hopped gracefully to his feet, dusting the dirt from his backside as his laughter abated. "I've really got you riled up, huh Bruce." Bruce visibly willed himself to calm down. "I'm through letting you goad me into fighting, Leonard." "What's wrong? Did I bruise your ego?" Samson asked smarmily. He held Bruce's stare as he rubbed one hand over the rippling cobblestone wall of his abs. "Along with your poor wittle footsie?" Samson advanced on the Hulk confidently. "If you are as completely in control as you say you are, then you should be able to keep your intellectually challenged alter ego in check, even as I provoke him in the most potent way possible - by demonstrating that "puny Green-hair" is now the strongest one there is." "I don't care, make any claims you like! I'm willing to stipulate to that if you'll just leave me alone!" Bruce replied. He tried to sound indifferent on the subject, but couldn't quite pull it off. "Your reasoning self might say that, Bruce - might even wish it were true." Samson acknowledged as he closed on the Hulk. "But we both know that there is a side of you that does care - a side that won't ever accept being weaker than anyone else. The savage Hulk may not be ascendent, but he's never truly gone because he is an aspect of you. A part of you." Samson punctuated this last point with a couple of stabbing jabs between the Hulk's pecs with an accusing finger. As Samson had often done in the past, the skilled psychiatrist had brought Bruce up short with his insight. Could what Bruce was doing here at Northwind really be more about returning the Hulk to the pinnacle of sheer, brute-force muscle than it was about any potential threat Chris O'Malley might represent. In the end did it really matter? The solution to Chris's potential threat was to have that threat checked by the power of the Hulk. Bruce created the problem and he had to solve it. "You're right, Samson." Bruce conceded flatly. "In the end I guess all of us are really no more than the sum of our parts." Bruce suddenly laid into Samson with a ground-shaking, surprise punch to the solar plexus. Immediately after his strike Bruce started forward, intending to follow up the devastation of this attack with a flurry of similar blows until he had put an end to Samson's meddling once and for all. But surprisingly, Samson didn't budge an inch and the Hulk collided clumsily with the unaffected target of his assault. Samson seized Bruce beneath his massive green arms and shoved him backward until the larger man was at arms length. "Steady there Bruce, don't get ahead of yourself." With that Samson lifted the Hulk into the air, pulling him completely off his feet and then, incredibly - almost casually, he tossed the Hulk high into the air. Very high. The sheer acceleration shocked the Hulk. The initial force of Samson's throw made him feel as if his muscles were going to shear away from his skeleton. The flesh of his face rippled and distorted like that of a test pilot undergoing training in a multi-g centrifuge. Of course, his body immediately began to slow due to friction with the air around him, but the rate of deceleration was almost imperceptible and he was near the edge of the Earth's atmosphere before he finally slowed completely to a stop and began his fall back. Bruce could not remember a time, at least when he was in control of the Hulk, when he had been hurled so high into the atmosphere. He had never purposefully attempted to leap such a distance straight up. He wondered for a minute if he would be able to do it, but that was ridiculous. Of course he could. There was no way Samson could accomplish something with his arms that was beyond the power of the Hulk's massively muscular legs. He flailed to keep himself oriented right-side up as he peered past his feet to the Earth below him. As he slowly picked up speed, he noticed that Samson had demonstrated a remarkable amount of accuracy and control. He had kept him perfectly geosynchronous. A few dozen miles below the surprised Hulk, Leonard Samson lowered his gaze from watching Bruce Banner become a vanishing speck in the air over his head. "Damn." He said with a short laugh as he surveyed the wilderness that surrounded the Northwind Observatory. "Might have put a little too much muscle into that." He noted an impressive relic from the last Ice Age a few hundred meters beyond the perimeter fence, narrowing his eyes as he took its measure before returning his attention to the sky above him. "Sorry Bruce, but I really do need to establish that you are in full control of the Hulk." Samson declared to himself as he picked out the tiny dot that was the plummeting green behemoth - a dot that was rapidly growing in size now. "And if my goading does cause the mighty green meanie to come out and play..." Without shifting his gaze, Samson flexed his right biceps and ran his left hand over its steel-hard peak, grinning. "...then I get to see how the savage Hulk fares against me now in a full-on, rage-fueled rampage." "Uh-oh." Samson added worriedly when he realized the speed with which the Hulk was hurtling earthward. "The big guy's comin' in hot." Samson took several steps backward, just clearing the immediate area as the Hulk slammed into the ground. Leg muscles used to absorbing phenomenal amounts of energy from leaps that could propel the Hulk across big chunks of a State were not quite able to compensate for the kinetic energy imparted by the power of Samson's throw. They were only able to redirect some of the Hulk's momentum and send him stumbling forward. The ground broke up beneath his impact, tripping up the Hulk and sending him sprawling forward onto the ground near Samson's feet. "Ouch. Ten's all around for height, but you really need to work on that dismount." Samson said with a smug grin as he offered the Hulk a hand up. Bruce's adrenaline levels were spiking from the ordeal of a near re-entry level fall from the sky. He choked on the dust kicked up by his landing, causing him to cough out his words as he slapped away Samson's hand. "I...don't need...your help, Samson." Bruce clambered to his feet and struggled to clear his lungs and get control of his coughing fit. Samson shrugged and placed his hands behind his head. As Bruce got to his feet the herculean psychiatrist took a deep breath and looked around, casually admiring the beauty of the clear, if freezing-cold, day. "I'm curious, Bruce. That last hit - how much did you put into it?" Bruce glared at Samson as the other man stood before him. He couldn't stop his eyes from shifting to either side of Samson's face where even relaxed, the handsome doctor's enormous biceps loomed like a couple of planetoids in mutual orbit. There was no denying it. Samson had always been a heavy hitter, but the gamma-scope procedure had amplified his brawn prodigiously. Bruce tried to quell an eerily recognizable feeling of dread as he considered how to answer Samson's question. The way his punch had just been stopped cold by Samson's thick, muscular chest was all too familiar. Maybe it hadn't been the Hulk's most powerful effort, but Samson had never before been able to take a punch like that to no effect at all. "You can’t be as strong as him." Bruce muttered, not really intending to express this thought out loud. But Samson caught it. The strapping powerhouse dropped his arms and cocked his head in attentiveness. "Can't be as strong as whom?" Bruce's mind raced. This whole situation was spinning out of control and he didn't have an unlimited amount of time. If Chris knew where he was and what he was up to, Bruce wasn't sure what the kid might do. He had barely been able to convince Chris to lay low for a while and be content with sparring with the Hulk until he had the hang of wielding the planet-cracking might of the kid's newly manifested mutant muscles. Leonard Samson's persistent need to test his physical prowess against ever more powerful opponents would make seeking out Chris a nearly irresistible draw and Samson was no fool. He would quickly deduce the mutant origins of Chris's might and Bruce was sure that Chris's reaction to the discovery of this fact could be downright catastrophic. "C'mon Bruce. I was right, wasn't I. Someone has had the Hulk on the ropes lately." Samson moved closer, confidence emanating off him in waves. "I'm handling it." Bruce insisted. "You can't get involved in this Leonard, you'll only make things worse." "Sounds to me like you're in over your head." Samson countered. In a flash, he grabbed the Hulk's thick forearm and yanked the Hulk forward, sidestepping and slipping behind Bruce, Samson clamped a full-nelson onto the Hulk. Spanning the sheer muscular bulk of the Hulk's lats taxed even a large man like Samson's mighty limbs but Samson didn't let go, even though his feet no longer quite touched the ground. "You're a smart guy Bruce. But you've always had a blind spot when it comes to realizing that you're playing a weak hand." Samson increased the pressure of his hold. "I'm betting that you would benefit from having someone with a more objective perspective in on the situation." Bruce felt the dense musculature of the Hulk's straining torso deform under Samson's onslaught. "I'm warning you, Samson. Let go of me!" Bruce grunted. Bruce lunged backward, slamming Samson through one of the concrete uprights that supported the perimeter fence. He felt Samson tighten his hold more and winced as the Hulk's ribs began to buckle inward. Samson's feet occasionally made contact with the ground, altering Bruce's course, but he sped up, racing blindly backward until he had slammed Samson into something very solid a few meters beyond the fence with a force that sent a considerable shock-wave rippling across the country-side. Infuriatingly, Samson just chuckled. "You're just proving my point here Bruce." But to Bruce's relief, Samson did release him. Bruce turned on Samson and by planting one thick green hand in middle of the shorter man's chest, he shoved him against what appeared to be a high granite outcropping - partially obscured by small trees and other shrubs that had managed to get footholds in the thin soil that had accumulated in the cracks and crevices of the rock-face. Bruce cocked his other arm, threatening a punch. "I'm giving you one last chance to butt out here, Leonard. Please take it." Bruce growled. It took Bruce a few moments to fully comprehend what happened next. Samson squatted and like Atlas shouldering up the sky, he gripped the face of the rock behind him. There was a deep rumble in the earth. Samson straightened his legs, pressing upward and his jeans merely exploded off him as quads and hamstrings flared to a girth that Bruce suspected the Hulk's own mighty limbs couldn't quite match. Calves that were also suddenly surpassing the Hulks in sheer size rippled with power as they fine-tuned Samson's balance. What Bruce had taken for an outcropping of the bedrock that lay beneath the shallow top-soil of the area began to rise into the air. Rise and pitch forward over the stunned physicist. It was no outcropping. Samson straightened and locked his knees. Shrugging his shoulders to balance his burden a little better. Samson had uprooted a colossal erratic boulder, deposited on the ice-scoured bedrock of the ancient landscape by the last retreating glacier that had covered this area thousands of years ago. It had the sheer size of something that wouldn't have seemed out of place on a city block in lower Manhattan. From a distance, it appeared that a new mountain was heaving itself into the sky. Bruce felt cold fear wash over him along with the shadow of that massive chunk of geology. Could even the savage Hulk at his most enraged support that kind of weight on his shoulders? He'd been under that kind of tonnage only once before. At the time, he'd been slowly losing his control over his brutish alter-ego and was therefore able to access some of his rage-fueled might, but even then, it had been all he could do to simply brace a fraction of such a weight for a short time. But Leonard Samson wasn't finished. Giant flakes of granite the size of manhole covers sheared off the boulder where Samson's hands pressed into the rock as he shoved ever upward. When the surface stabilized enough before his grip, Samson transferred the weight from his shoulders and slowly pressed a rock that in some parts of the solar system might be classified as a small moon fully over his head. "It's one of those times Brucie. You've been dealt the weaker hand here." Samson smiled smugly. "Now you are going to start cooperating with me or I swear, I'll toss this pebble right on top of Northwind." Bruce's face went white with fear and disbelief. He looked from Samson toward Northwind. Through an unsettlingly distant curtain of falling dirt and debris that marked the edge of the staggering mass of solid granite currently being suspended above him, he could see the facility that represented almost every scientific advancement he'd been able to achieve since being transformed into the Hulk. "I've got nothing to lose by flattening Northwind and if doing it will keep you from possibly unleashing an out-of-control, powered-up Hulk on the world, then all the better." Though right now, wielding such a massive weight and not even topping out, part of Samson relished the idea of having a go at such an augmented Hulk. His grin broadened at the thought of it. Who knew, he might yet get that chance. Bruce swallowed reluctantly, as he held up his hands in defeat. "Okay!...Alright - You win, What is it you want from me Leonard?" Samson beamed triumphantly. "Now that's more like it." He chuckled and for a moment turned his attention more directly to evaluating the negligible degree of challenge posed to his strength by the immense boulder he'd lofted overhead. "I know! How about we play Atlas and Hercules?" Samson suggested, doing an impression of an excited kid playing pretend at recess. "I'll be Atlas." Samson stepped closer to the Hulk, causing the solid bedrock beneath him to audibly fracture as he made as if to hand off the staggering weight he was wielding. The Hulk blanched and stepped back nervously. Samson laughed heartily. "Wow, the look on your face, Bruce." He lowered and pressed the weight slightly a couple of times. Controlling it with little effort. "Would this fleck of granite really be too much for the Hulk to handle?" It was galling enough, capitulating to Samson, but having him continue to rub his victory in the Hulk's face was starting to rile Bruce enough to reconsider. If there was one thing about his dull-witted alter ego that Bruce did admire, it was that the brute (with one major exception) never gave up. He always (again, with that same major exception) found a way to overcome any physical challenge he was presented with. Bruce knew that this potential for accessing greatly increased strength was somewhere within him. Both he and Samson had always suspected that it was his scientist's predilection for dispassionate analysis that was the road-block that kept him from achieving the unfettered power his more instinct-driven side tapped into so naturally. In a way, rationality and reason were like the Hulk's Kryptonite and Bruce Banner had rarely been able to abandon either and was therefore incapable of power beyond the Hulk's considerable but limited baseline strength level. But in that moment, Samson's taunting interference on top of several exhausting weeks of being utterly crushed in one contest of strength after another by a mere teenager combined to cause a momentary lapse in Banner's control. It was almost like that brief feeling of admiration for the berserker within him became a psychological conduit through which the traumatized psyche of the Savage Hulk - roused to action by the infuriating boasts of one of his most persistent opponent's - somehow seized partial control. Suddenly a passenger in his own body, Banner found himself charging Samson, who somehow seemed unsurprised. With a knowing smirk, Samson tossed his burden into the air just as he was bulldozed by his opponent. They became a tangle of massive, muscular limbs and Samson was pitched onto his back, landing hard with the Hulk on top of him. Roaring in Samson's face, the Hulk leaned forward, in an attempt to use the leverage of the giant's greater bulk to keep Samson's shoulders pinned to the ground as Bruce Banner's bifurcated psyche waged battles on fronts both internal and external. Like a neophyte surfer learning to harness the awesome power of the ocean and turn it to his own purpose, Banner sought to take advantage of the surge in strength brought on by his savage self's attempt at re emergence without having his conscious control totally swept away. It was difficult not to give in to the rage. Even as he struggled to subdue Samson, Bruce cringed inwardly - awaiting the sickening sound of his Northwind Observatory being obliterated beneath the thousands of tons of solid rock he'd glimpsed Samson hurl high into the sky just as the Hulk had charged him. Instead, just as the Hulk tried to push himself up and separate from Samson enough to demand the other man's surrender, he felt Samson thrust his arms upward with incredible force and had just enough time to suspect that the other man was trying to clamp another submission hold on him when he felt a tremendous impact against the entirety of his upper back. The force of it slammed him bodily back down onto Samson with what felt like the force of a gamma-bomb detonation. Bruce's massive and inhumanly muscular frame rebounded upward like a rag-doll, only to immediately collide with something of a total and unyielding solidity before he fell back onto Samson, where it took him a few moments to fight off a slide towards unconsciousness. Bruce shook his head, trying to clear the stars from his vision. Planting his hands on the ground on either side of Samson, he made an unsteady second attempt to push himself up. It was difficult maneuvering to support himself with Samson's arms jutting straight upward on either side of him like thick marble columns. He didn't rise very far before something stopped him and then began to press him inexorably downward, The Hulk's arms trembled, trying to resist but slowly lost ground forcing him into Samson and pinning them both down with tremendous pressure. At least, this is how it seemed to the Hulk from his limited vantage point. The Hulk wheezed as he found himself having to struggle for breath. He felt the muscles of Samson's torso surge and somehow the pressure abated slightly. "What...was that?" Banner managed, catching his breath. "What hit us?" Banner asked wondering what could have hammered the both of them with such power. "Now that was reckless, Bruce." Samson warned with a grunt. "What if you had made me lose control of this little paper-weight." Bruce felt something solid and rough again press down on his back - the pressure concentrated where the Hulk's torso was thickest - at the shoulders and chest. Then Bruce finally pieced together what had happened. They weren't pinned down, at least, Samson wasn't - he'd somehow managed to catch that towering boulder as it had crashed earthward and he was now pressing it above the Hulk's back with both hands. A feeling of elation washed through Bruce. "Northwind? You didn't smash it?" He was sure he'd lost the observatory and everything in it. He wanted to push himself up and inspect the structure, but again that massive rock being suspended above his back prevented him. "Northwind is the least of your worries." Samson advised. "You've tried to fake me out twice, Bruce. So now, I'm going to take more drastic measures to demonstrate how little choice you have in the matter of cooperating with me." The Hulk felt the compacting pressure being exerted on his lats by Samson's ramrod-straight arms lessen as they began to bend slowly at each elbow. Small fissures in the bed-rock beneath the Hulk's palms zig-zagged out as more of the boulder's mass was transferred to Bruce's back. As Samson continued to slowly lower his arms Bruce could feel the gritty, granite surface of the rock bite into the skin of his shoulder-blades as the rock settled lower. Until that moment, Bruce had - for the most part - been able to brace himself, supporting himself over Samson's prone torso with his arms. But those mighty arms simply couldn't handle the weight being forced on them now and the Hulk was slowly being pinned with more and more weight directly against his opponent. "Remind you of anything Bruce?" Samson asked with a grin. "Like when you were that spindly little adolescent in gym-class and the coach couldn't coax even a single pushup out of you?" As the Hulk strained mightily to keep himself from being forced lower, this comment drove home to Bruce the degree to which Samson was getting carried away. Under normal circumstances the highly competent psychoanalyst would never use information gleaned from a patient's personal sessions in such an unprofessional manner. It was evidence that the other man was far too caught up in exploring his new-found strength level. Bruce wondered if pointing out this lapse might be enough to snap Samson out of this bout of ego-mania, but it was all he could do to keep from being overwhelmed by the tonnage Samson was slowly lowering onto him. "You are really being a pill with this whole situation Bruce. To top it off, you're forcing me off my workout schedule. I'm not supposed to be working chest and arms until tomorrow." Teasingly, Samson pushed the boulder upwards slightly, giving the Hulk a moment's respite as he bantered. "On the bright side, I've always found bench-pressing a good warm-up weight to be invigorating." Samson lowered the boulder once more before the Hulk could fully recover. Letting it sink lower and placing more pressure on Bruce than ever. The triceps of the Hulk's faltering arms flared under the onslaught, his super-humanly thick tendons audibly thrummed as the inconceivable tension being forced on them ramped up to an even higher level. The pressure of the slowly descending rock was forcing his ribcage into Samson's. The other man may have had a smaller overall skeletal frame than the Hulk but there seemed to be just as much muscle packed onto it now. Being forced relentlessly down onto Samson's pecs was like being slowly crushed against a couple of massive anvils. Despite his supreme effort, the Hulk's arms quickly gave out. He was driven painfully down onto his elbows and air was forced from his massive lungs as he was smashed down even more into Samson's unyielding physique. "...stop..." The Hulk wheezed, barely able to manage that single word. To the Hulk's relief, Samson did stop, he even raised the boulder slightly making it easier to breath. "I'll make a deal with you Bruce. I promise not to bring this thing any lower. I'll give you that promise as a freebie. Now all I want from you is a sign that you are willing to admit that I have valid reasons to want to monitor your psychological state and your actions at Northwind." "I...<pant>...I can see...<pant>...where you might have...concerns." Bruce relented between gasps for breath as he scrambled to push himself up away from his intimidating proximity to Samson. But his effort yielded nothing. Samson may have backed off slightly from crushing the Hulk, but he still wasn't letting him go anywhere. "There. You see, Bruce." Samson encouraged. "Was that so bad? There are harder things than cooperating with me. Now do you agree to submit yourself to an evaluation?" "Yes." Bruce responded tersely. "Now we're getting somewhere. You are also," Samson continued. "going to fill me in on this encounter you have apparently had. The one where the Hulk got his butt handed to him. If I'm right, these things are probably all interconnected. I'm going to need the big picture if I'm going to be of any help." Bruce's answer was a strained silence. He clenched his jaw shut in determination not to give in on this point. The last thing he needed was an encounter between Chris and Samson before he was ready. Not to mention the principle of the issue. He had promised Chris that he would not reveal his mutant nature. "I'm gonna have to insist on this, Bruce." Samson warned. "I can't!" Bruce grunted. "Now, I've never known you to go back on a promise, Leonard." He continued defiantly. "And I doubt that you can suspend that thing over us indefinitely so I suggest that you let me out of this ridiculous situation and be satisfied with the concessions I've already made." "Hmm" Samson paused as though considering whether or not Bruce had a point. "Actually, I probably could wait you out here, but I'm familiar with your stubborn streak and frankly, I've no interest in investing that kind of time." Samson chuckled. "Besides, I may have promised not to lower Mount Warm-up any further..." Without warning, like a boot-camp inductee being berated by a belligerent drill sergeant in his first lineup, Samson stuck out his thick chest, driving the Hulk's upper body sharply higher and once again grinding Bruce's battered back into the solid granite of that immense boulder. "But I didn't say anything about not raising you." Samson chuckled at his own cleverness. "N-no." Bruce protested, struggling to find away to free himself. "You know the secret to a great chest routine Bruce? It's to squEEEZe the muscle with every rep." Samson explained, flexing his pecs thicker by the second and compressing the Hulk's larger but out-muscled torso into the suspended boulder with greater and greater force. Samson leveled off flexing his unstoppable chest for a moment to gauge the effect it was having on the Hulk. The Hulk's eyes bulged and his mouth was open in a futile effort at speech, but he simply didn't have the breath. His face was turning red even through the green hue of his skin. This seemed to satisfy Samson. "You, know, I really do think that I'm still getting stronger." He mused. "Now, do you tell me what I need to know or do I see how high I can bounce both you and this pet rock of mine?" Still unable to speak, the Hulk nodded in panicky agreement. "Atta boy, Bruce." Samson praised. But he didn't immediately reduce the punishing flexing of his bulging pecs. "Oh, and Bruce..." Samson added, then he actually flexed even harder before continuing. Any resistance the Hulk was offering by way of flexing his own muscles crumpled before this surge and Bruce's vision began to go dark as he teetered on the brink of unconsciousness. "...I'm confident that this time you aren't trying to trick me, right?" The Hulk managed a weak shake of his head as his eyes began to roll back into his head. "Good." Samson concluded with a brisk nod. He relaxed his chest, allowing the Hulk to suck in some air. At the same time, he sent the boulder rocketing skyward as easily as a normal man might pass a basketball. Samson sat up gently, so as not to hyperextend the barely conscious Hulk's back, but scrambled quickly to his feet once he'd disentangled himself. Bruce lay flat on his back, recovering. He managed to raise his head enough to keep Samson in his sight. He watched wide-eyed as Samson again caught the mountainous boulder as it fell from the tremendous height he'd tossed it to. The force of it actually compressed the solid bedrock beneath his feet, deforming it visibly. Hey Bruce? "Did I ever tell you that I almost made the Olympic shot put team my junior year as an undergrad?" Samson narrated as he bent his head to avoid the boulders bulk. For a moment, he steadied the tonnage with both hands, then incredibly, he balanced the entire thing using only his right arm and with a shove so powerful it defied comprehension, hurled the entire massive bulk of it cleanly off the surface of the Earth with enough force that it was set on a trajectory that would eventually carry it completely out of the gravity well of the Sun itself. As Samson steadied himself from the recoil of his effort, he dusted his hands, scanning the sky in the direction of the vanquished boulder. "Now that was a good session." He turned around regarding the Hulk with a satisfied smirk. "I think we made some real progress today, Bruce."

Here now is a new chapter to Pleasure Growth - Enjoy Pleasure Growth Part 3 by F_R_Eaky Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1116-pleasure-growth/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1117-pleasure-growth-part-2/ "Look, son. I know this has been kind of hard on you, everything that has happened so suddenly, but we're trying to help you out as best as we can, and you need to pick up your pace and adapt faster." Head basketball coach, Mr. Dreisden was saying to Aaron out in the middle of the basketball court. Aaron almost didn't respond to the coach he was so lost in the moment and wondering how he got here. It was only in the middle of the second month of the quarter, his second month away from home as a freshman at college and his whole world had been turned upside down and was getting more and more tossed each day. He had gone in for a horomone treatment to help him possibly grow at the beginning of summer. Nothing happened and the family figured it was a bust. Aaron was going to be a five and half foot tall man, unlike his brothers who ranged from six feet even to six feet four inches tall. But the night before he left for college, he had experienced a growth spurt; six inches in a night putting him at six feet tall. He didn't worry about it, he didn't think about it...he just thought the treatment worked, albeit in an odd manner. On top of that, the family's young ranch hand, turned friend, Zeke, who was earning money for college, the same one Aaron would attend, expressed an interest in Aaron and they were starting a relationship. Which is probably why Aaron hadn't worried too much about his growth spurt as it put him closer to Zeke's height of six foot four inches and made tussling in bed with him a lot easier and more fun. However, a month into the school year and Aaron had another growth spurt. Zeke surprised him while taking a shower and got him worked up, and started riding his, probably longer than Zeke's pole. The same sensation hit him as did their first night and sexual encounter together just before they left for college. Like last time, Aaron grew; boy did he grow! The next morning after Aaron woke up, Zeke spoke to him calmly and showed him what happened and then helped measure him. He had grown a whole foot taller! He was now seven feet tall. His musculature had grown as well. He had beefed up slightly from a lithe swimmer's build to a little bit more like a pro basketball player. And that's when the whole world turned upside down. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. He couldn't go to classes as he didn't fit into any of his old clothes, any of the clothes he nicked from his brothers' closet, nor Zeke's. He was well beyond being able to buy anything off the rack and he knew he couldn't afford anything custom made. Without clothes he couldn't attend classes, no attending classes meant getting expelled from school, and the return home...what would he say to his brothers? To his parents? They hadn't noticed his growth spurt the night before he left. He had intentionally stayed away from them until he was seated in the truck with Zeke to leave. They thought their five and a half foot tall relative had left, and now a seven footer was coming back home, because he couldn't get to classes. "Look... just breathe and we'll get ya through this." said Zeke after measuring Aaron that next morning. "How?! I have no clothes to wear...I have no money to buy clothes. I can't walk around all day in my bed sheets like a toga! And what is happening to me? The formula was supposed to help kick in my growth spurt, which should've been around the same as my brothers, not increase it to where I'm... I'm...." "Aaron, stop right there!" Zeke commanded in a huge deep voice, standing up to Aaron as if to face off with him, although he now only stood a few inches above Aaron's shoulder. His glowing green eyes pierced Aaron's blue ones and stared hard. "If you mention the word, 'freak', I don't care how big you are or get, I'll beat the crap out of you. You are not now and never will be a freak. Lots of guys are seven feet tall. There are opportunities you can take advantage of and use to help you out. You just have to switch gears a little. So, first things first is to find out what's happening to you. One of the guys on the basketball team is actually here on a science scholarship. He's studying bio-chemistry, genetics, and anatomy. We'll get him to come with us to school's doctor's office and help them out in taking samples and analysing them to see what's happening to you. Send some of them off to your doctor get him to look and confer and hopefully come up with a solution. Next, we'll go talk with the coach. See if we can get you on the basket ball team." "The basketball team? Zeke, I'm not an athlete. I've not been trained." "True, but listen. While you're still trying to figure out what's going on, maybe even still growing, they can play you, but play you light. Only sending you in for a couple of minutes each game. Happens a lot with freshman players, especially freshman who between senior year of high school and frosh year at college or during their freshman year they grow and now have to get used to their new body and sometimes a new position. The coaches can help train you, and on an athletic team they'll have medics who'll be watching and helping out with the training. They took me on, and I'm relatively short guy for basketball even at six feet-four. This school... able to get a seven footer...they'll go nuts. They might give you a scholarship which will help pay for some things and free up some money for clothes. Not only that, but you'll get a few team uniforms, away game set, home set, warm up and exercise pieces, that'll be free and just don't turn them in to the laundry after the games, wash them yourself and wear them in school." "I don't know, Zeke. Adding all those changes, on top of this..." "Hey, Aaron.... babe.... you won't be alone. I'm still here." Zeke approached Aaron and wrapped his slightly beefier arms around Aaron's torso and looked up at him softly. "I'm still here, babe. I fell in love with you. I'm wanting a relationship with you and that means I have to accept you for who or whatever you are. But the thing is, I love you, the person inside. Doesn't matter what happens to this shell on the outside, I'm here for the person inside to lean on, talk to, care, and love." "Zeke... stop..." "What? Why?" "It....it happens... that is I think...god! Zeke, I think it happens whenever I'm aroused. It happened our first night together." "I knew it! I knew you were bigger, and wearing my boots, too, I might add." and Zeke smiled at Aaron. "Sorry... was hopping you thought you'd left them behind. But I'm serious. It happened that first night, and then in the shower last night." "Ok... it's alright. I understand. We can still be boyfriends, I just need to respect that getting personally physical with you right now is out of the question until we find out what's going on." It didn't happen that way though. We left and took care of the items we made a plan to do. I walked into the medical office at the school and after pulling my records they were in shock. Zeke's teammate, Sanjay had come with us and walked back into the office with them to help plan a study of what was going on. They took several samples of blood and sent them off to various labs as well as my doctor back home and told me it was now a matter of waiting for results. From there we went over to the gymnasium and the basketball coaches' office. Zeke was right they were extatic. The rest of that afternoon was flurry of measurements and phone calls. First was to the rest of the basketball team coaching staff, then the team medics who put me through paces to see what I could do. After a shower, it was over to the statistition's office who took care of the team uniforms and gave me several sets of uniforms. While in the locker room I met with the President of the university, who listened to my story and condition and then listened to the team's medics asses of my abilities and body functions. He managed to find some money for a scholarship to offer me, if I considered parlaying my condition into playing basketball for the school. After that I sat with the coach as he made several phone calls to some major athletic equipment companies to see if he could get shoes for me. Yeah.... I grew big, and so did my feet, U.S. men's size twenty-five. He finally found a company willing to make me some shoes my size and donate to them as long as the school gave them proper credit. The next day the President scheduled a press conference with me as the star. In front of news reporters and television cameras I signed off on a scholarship contract to play for the school. Then the reporters and camera crew followed the President and I around the campus, like he was showing me the school, with a stop off at the college bookstore so he could present me with several oversized t-shirts, sweatshirts and pants, even a few polo shirts all my size, all emblazoned with the school logo, of course. With that came the emergency visit from my family. They arrived the week-end after the press conference and an irate call to the President for not letting them know before-hand what was happening to their son and brother. They were shocked to say the least. Mom did nothing but cry, hoping that her baby was alright. Dad was in shock at how big I had grown and wasn't sure what to say. My brothers, all gawked and whistled, but cheered and egged me on, smacking and patting me on the back, making comments like, "Well, if ya had to have the spurt late, ya might as well have it big! Knock 'em dead on the court, bro." During all of this there was Zeke. He didn't get to talk to me much, except in our dorm room, which got switched by the way so I could have a longer twin bed put in to accomodate my much longer frame. He would give me tips, coaching me on how to handle the fame, the attention, what was coming up, how to play athletic politics, and help teach me the finer points of basketball away from the court. But once we left that dorm room, he was off on the side. His athletic star was fading in my lime-light, but he was always there, with a small smile my way. It always made my stomach do a little flip. So, it was no surprise that his plan of staying away from me, didn't work out like he wanted. We were sitting in our dorm room, both studying, reclining on our beds, when I glanced over and saw him staring at me with that smile. I looked back at my homework, and then waited for when I noticed him looking back at his. I very gingerly set my school books aside and then just sat there smiling at him. He eventually noticed and did a small double take. "What?" Zeke said. "Nothing." I continued to smile at him. "What?!?" "Nothing....I'm just...trying to smile at you like I catch you smiling at me all the time." I moved over and leaned over him on the bed, getting my face close to his. "A...Aaron...what are you doing?" "I know it's only been a couple of weeks...but I can't take it anymore. I love you too, Zeke. For all the help you've given me, for all the plans you helped put together to take care of me, for all the coaching in basketball, but most especially for all those smiles you give me. It lets me know you care.... that you feel for me. That..." "That I love you..." I moved in and planted a kiss firmly and deeply on his lips. He responded by throwing his books aside and wrapping his arms around me as tight as he could and passionately returning the kiss. He pushed himself away from the bed, sending me backwards and landing on my bed. He looked down at me and then suddenly let fly... "Holy fuck!" I looked down where he was looking; it was at my crotch. My cock was already snaked down my pants leg and now it was snaking further, getting fatter, as it got harder. "Are you getting the same sensation as you did before?" "No...and I wouldn't care if I was. I want to be with you again so badly!" Zeke leaned in and kissed me passionately again, but then backed off and dropped to his knees. I let my head fall back, eyes closed, waiting, anticipating what Zeke was going to do; it was a surprise. Instead of going for my pants button, he went for my shoes, undid the lacing, took them and my socks off and began to massage my feet. When I finally looked down at him questioningly, he blushed and answered. "Sorry....It may sound funny from a fairly big man, but...it so turns me on that you're bigger than me. The size, musculature, and meatiness of your feet, drive me while. So does the touch of your massive paws. The way you can palm a basketball. I watch you get up in the morning, moving on the court, I get so turned on I nearly blow a load everytime." He took his hands and glided them across my feet, working his fingers between my toes, then caressing them across the instep, my ankle, and up my shins and calves, over my thighs, until he came to my waist band and gave me a signal to rise up so he could pull it down. He did so and up sprang my cock... Lord...even to me it looked huge, gigantic. "Son of a bitch! A...a...Aaron! That looks like a miniature Louisville slugger! And your balls....they need a tattoo that reads 'inflate to so many pounds P.S.I.'!" He took his hands and rested them on top of my prick head and then slowly caressed his way down my shaft. After several minutes of power stroking he eventually gave way to sucking my cock as best he could, until finally he growled like a caged animal, dove for his desk and pulled out some special lube. Smothering my cock and his hole in it, he eventually stood up on my bed and lowered himself down onto my engorged cock. "Oh! Sweet....UH-HUH! MOTHER FUCK!" He was already convulsing from my size. I could feel my cock spreading his ass cheeks farther and farther apart and the deeper I went in him the tighter he felt. "Put your hands on my waist and help me!" I put my hands on his waist and began to help him ride me and ride me and ride me. He took a few breaks, allowing him time to rest, me to suck him, him to screw my hole, to suck and play with each other's nipples, but finally he rode me until I blew a load so huge inside him, it came right back out like a cascading waterfall, despite the blockage of my cock. He collapsed on the bed and on top of me. His head resting on my chest, his left hand resting on my cock. His eyes widened as he watched it shrink and become flaccid once more. "It's like watching the hulk shrink down...only it's definitely not an average man it reverts to. Speaking of the hulk, don't you ever gain any serious muscle mass." I thought this kind of an odd statement, so I asked, "Why?" "Just something in me, likes big, built men. I love you, just you, that inner drive, personality of yours. I think you're marvelous. And now...now that it's encased in this huge, big footed, hung body....well, if you develop big bulging muscles...you never will wear any clothes." "Why cause I can't find anything in BIG and tall?" "No....cause I'll rip them off of you so I can always see this." That was two weeks ago. The last two weeks has been again a flurry of activity. My first game, training sessions, getting used to the training schedule, traveling for away games, studying for classes, learning how much food I now eat and how I have to eat it in the same amount of time. It's been just over a month since I grew and man, had it changed my life. "Aaron! Are you paying attention to me, son?" "Yes, sir, coach! I'm just trying to get my head wrapped around everything... the new plays taught today, as well as going over all the basics of play. Trying to think it all through and what I have to do for me, you, the team." Coach Dreisden paused for bit and stared at me. Finally he gave me a pat on the arm near my shoulder. "It's alright. I know I've been pushing you hard, but I do understand it's been a hell of a lot for you take. So many changes in your status at school, in your body's development... But you just said you were trying to focus on what you needed to do for yourself and for the team. I like that. That is a good attitude. I can cut you a little bit of slack. We're not really working or using you that much this year because you're so green, but next year... the school will be expecting a lot more out of you next year, as well as your junior and senior years if you stay on here." "I get what you're telling me coach. I'm trying to adapt and adapt quickly. Just this wasn't the arena I expected to make my mark in." "I know, son... I know. Well, you've got friends and family helping ya. Take a breather if ya need to, but when you can, get to work on it, hard, fast, continuously, and you might be able to garder a career out of it that can set you up for whatever real dreams you had planned to pursue. Go on, now. Hit the showers." "Actually, I've got some free time. Is it okay if I spend tonight practicing my shots?" "Sure...just don't over do it, but...good attitude. Hard work and practice pays off." The coach and the rest of the team hit the showers and I stayed behind practicing my shots and rebounds, running up and down the court, doing lay ups. I had probably been there about an hour and half or so. Practice ended at nine p.m. They were going to shut the gymnasium down in about a half an hour. I'd be ok though; tonight Zeke was working the front desk. I continued to practice for a while, but they shut the lights off. Probably thought everyone was already out. Wasn't a problem as there was still enough light from the doorways and other places I could see the baskets. But my mind had begun to wander a little bit from practicing. My mind wandered to lazy summer days with my brothers as we would play hoops out back. A couple of them almost a foot taller than me, a couple half a foot taller...never could get the ball from any of them. How different those games would be now. SWISSHHHHH! I'm the one who stands a foot taller than a couple of them now... SWISSHHHHHH! I'm the one who stands not a half a foot, but eight inches taller than the other two now.... SWISSHHHHHH! In fact I'm having to duck through doorways to enter rooms... BOUNCE!.....SWISSSHHHHH! I've become the big man on campus.... BOUNCE...BOUNCE....SWISSSSSHHHHHH! the BIG man on campus...... BOUNCE...BA-BOUNCE...BA-BOUCE....SWISSHHHHH! In the fraternity areas, some drunk ass gives me lip, they immediately shut up when I stand up. BOUNCE...BOUNCE....BOUNCE.... LAY UP....STUFF! All I have to do is stand up...don't need to get mean, or angry, or show off...just stand up. BOUNCE...BOUNCE....BOUNCE.... LAY UP....STUFF! CATCH...REBOUND...STUFF! Hmmm damn....I just flopped out of my briefs....hmmmmm that kind of feels good.... BOUNCE....SWISSSSH! The weight of my cock, pulling on my groin....feels...manly.... BOUNCE....BOUNCE.....LAY UP....STUFF! Feels sexy...all that meat, flopping in my basketball shorts, down most of the leg, rubbing against the fabric. BOUNCE....BOUNCE.... SWISSSSSH! I'm...I'm the big man everywhere... BOUNCE....BOUNCE.... BOUNCE.... SWISSSSSH! And my boyfriend likes it.... BOUNCE....SWISSSH! Likes that I can stuff the hell out of him..... BOUNCE...BOUNCE.... SWISSSSSSH! That my feet and hands are so much bigger than him... BOUNCE.... That I can palm this basketball with ease.... BOUNCE..... That I've become the big man on campus... BOUNCE.... THE big man on campus.... BOUNCE..... And he loves me....for all that I've become... SWISHHHHHHH! "Oooh!" Suddenly I felt it. My own thoughts on having become this giant of man had turned me on and my cock had begun to get erect. But with its erection came that sensation like I had experienced before one and two months ago. I tried to think of cold, cold showers...of suddenly shrinking down to the size of a gnome...of walking in on mom and dad in their bedroom.... but it was too late. I had started the erotic feelings and my cock was becoming erect. As it did so it gained in blood and size and weight and pulled on my groin even more, sending sexual sensations up through my body. It didn't matter what horrible thought I came up with now, I was trapped in a state of arousal. And that arousal and feeling spread throughout my whole body. As my cock snaked down longer, thicker, and harder, in my basketball shorts, my body began to grow taller, and thicker, harder, heavier, veinnier. I could feel my sleeves riding up my arms, across my delts, and heading for my shoulders. My shirt hem started rising up towards my chest exposing more and more of my abdominals as it rose. My shorts hem started rising above my knees and creeping up my thighs. But that wasn't the only part. I was filling out. I could feel myself not only getting heavier due to my height, I could feel my muscle mass increasing. Feel fibers breaking and healing, thickening and strengthening. I could feel the definition come in more and the striations developing. My clothes not only were shrinking they were getting tighter and tighter and along their climb up my body they began to rip and tear and split here and there. The sleeves split as they rode up across my delts. When the sleeves hit my shoulders, my back split the back of my shirt, while my ballooning chest split the front of the shirt down to the hem. Developing lats blew out the pits of the shirt under my arms. Meanwhile my thighs were making short work of the shorts splitting the seams and other places all the way up to my waist band. But butt bubbled out a little bit getting a lil' fuller, firmer, blowing the seat out of the shorts. My cock kept snaking on and on further and further down my leg till it's size and length were enough to overcome the restraints of the shorts leg, which was now split apart by the thighs anyway, and slowly began to rise higher and further and further out in an impossible erect state. My balls kept gaining in weight and size and I swear I could feel the cum churning and swirling inside them begging for release. But the pain was becoming incredibly intense as my body made my briefs tighter and tighter causing them to rack my balls. I was going into pain overload as my feet spread out and began growing in my now overly small shoes. I could feel my toes getting pushed and crammed in the front, toe section of the shoe, fighting for room, stretching the fabric. I could feel the sides of my feet extend beyond the sides of the shoe causing the leather sides to roll down and spread out flat against the floor becoming an extra part of the sole now. My heels were pressing fiercely into the back of the shoe screaming at them to burst, while my top arch and ankles grew and grew busting the laces, tongue, and hole of the shoes. Finally my feet broke free, spreading out farther, wider, longer, than the shoes ever hoped to be despite they're being a size twenty five. But I knew they were going to be huge. I knew they had to become massive gargantuan feet because I was growing... up...and up.... and up.....getting taller and taller... seven footers were in no way the big men on campus, or maybe they still were. They were the big men on campus but I was THE man on campus. I was the giant man on campus. Up and up I went. My feet out growing and completely covering my old tennis shoes. My clothes eventually all busting apart and sliding off my body cascading to the floor and I stood there, having caught the basketball in a last bounce close to me, holding it two handed, but realizing in one hand the basketball felt more like a baseball or something similar to me. My eyes finally stopped rising up. I finally stopped growing. My eyes were mere inches below the hoop, meaning my head was even with the hoop itself. I was now nine feet tall. NINE FEET TALL! "AUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I blew a load from my mammoth sized cock that I swear sprayed up into, through, and far above the hoop. Some cum splattering the back glass. In my extasy I convulsed and crushed my hands together, causing the basketball to pop. I stood there, in the dark, lost in my euphoria for a bit. Lost in thoughts of confusion over what was now going to happen to me. Despite what Zeke had said nearly a month ago, I had just grown into....a freak." I heard the sound of someone walking and the jingling of keys in the hall. It passed the gymnasium doors to the end of the hall and some lights went out. The gentleman then came and started closing the gymnasium doors; he stopped when he saw my silhouette. "Hey, the gym is now clos...are you nude? Dude, what the hell?!" He came near me at a decent pace and then began to slow down the closer he got to me... "A...a...A..Aar...Aaron?" Slowed down to a walk, he approached me and began to gently place his hands on me. He looked up at me to see my face and his eyes widened. "Aaron... what happened? It happened again didn't it?... Good lord...you are so tall... and bigger built... and that's not your.... ok... snap outta it, Zeke. It's okay, baby... I'm here.... I'm here... it'll be alright..." He noticed I was still lost in a stupor of some kind. That stupor was quickly getting replaced by panic. My peripheral vision had notice that Zeke's six foot four inch self, just came up to mere inches above my navel. Visual confirmation that I was indeed almost three feet taller than him. He grabbed me by the hand, then the arm, and finally the wrist when the other two proved too big to get a decent hand hold around. "Come on, baby...this way, towards the locker room showers. You can sit and relax for a bit under hot water, and I'll come clean the floor and...good lord, the back glass and net off. I'll call the coach and the doctors. We'll find out what do... come on... this way...this way..."

Greetings, reposting of part 2 of Pleasure Growth. Enjoy. - Frank Pleasure Growth Part 2 by F_R_Eaky Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1116-pleasure-growth/ The next morning Aaron awoke and worked quickly. He noticed himself in his clothes, near door frames, he was taller, bigger. Using the bathroom he stared in awe, realizing his member was around 8.5 inches soft. His feet were far beyond his shoe size, beyond Zeke's which was painfully noticed as those were the closest size shoe he could wear, which he was, having stolen a pair of Zeke's boots before he left the cabin. What bothered him though was he didn't look mature. Glancing at himself in the full length mirror back at the house, he saw no shadows what-so-ever: no peach fuzz on his chin or lip, no sprigs under his arm, no feathering across his chest, arms or legs, no bush sprouting down under. Not that he expected it right away, but after last night - a growth spurt of six inches - he figured he'd see the start of hair at least. Shuffling around his brother's closets he knicked a couple shirts and one pair of jeans from each of them. He hoped that whatever this spurt was, it was almost done and this would get him through the year so he wouldn't have to waste a lot of his spare money for clothes. Aaron kept to himself that morning, packing his 'stolen' clothes. He also didn't want the family to notice that he had suddenly grown so much over night. He did like it though. He could almost see eye to eye with his dad and brothers now, he felt more like a grown man befitting his age. His entire body tingled a lil bit everytime he saw Zeke looking his way. Zeke was eyeing him with a look of hunger and lust sometimes, a look of approval others, as if there was something new that needed congratulations. Later he helped pack the truck for his and Zeke's ride to college. He arranged it so that he wound up sitting in the back that way there'd be no chance to notice and compare his and his dad's or his and Zeke's legs and therefore notice he'd grown. Besides, this gave him a chance to stretch his new legs out and he could also take off Zeke's boots, that were too small, and let his feet feel free. Not much was said after they arrived as time was used to a great extent getting the truck upacked, checked in at the dorm, the dorm room loaded, checked in at the school, orientation for dorm room rules. They were so tired that when his dad came up to say goodbye and give Aaron a hug, he didn't notice how much taller his son was. Aaron was going to love the dorm situation though, Zeke was going to be his roommate. The boys were very tired that night, so not much happened. For the next couple of weeks nothing happened either. Both of the boys were submerged in getting books for classes, finding their way around campus, finding their way around town, getting used to class schedules, and homework. There was more for Zeke to get used to as he was there on a sports scholarship and had to find all the ins and outs of the school gymnasium, sports complex, stadium, practice times. Too often one would be out cold asleep when the other came in from his day. But the love they started wasn't going to be stiffled, not by a long shot. One night while studying for a mid-term exam, Aaron was very edgy. "I'm never going to get this problem down!" He screamed and threw his book across the tiny dorm room. Rubbing his shoulder he commented to his self, "I'm not going to learn a damn thing while I'm this tense. I'm in pain." Picking up his book, he tried to study once again, but his shoulder pain spread to the other shoulder and then across his entire back. It throbbed in time with his breath and after a while the young man slammed his text book down. "There's only one thing that's going to take care of this." Grabbing a towel, soap and shampoo, he headed to the shower room. It was getting late, most of the students we either out at a club or already asleep in their beds. He turned the shower on, fairly hot, and let the steam build up while he took off his clothes. He sat on the bench next to his stall and marveled at his feet as he patted them on the tile floor. So big, long, wide, meaty, strong. He thought back to the last couple of months, how things seemed so much easier now that he was six feet tall. More people here looked at him, girls, and guys, he enjoyed the new attention. Shaking himself all over, he stood up and entered the stall letting the warm water cascade down his neck, shoulders, and back. He stood there for quite a while letting the heat take the tension out of his back. He was just about to start soaping up when suddenly, "Whoo, don't you look a sight." Before he could open his eyes, Zeke had stepped in grabbed Aaron's member, and in one quick motion managed to stuff it up his but and backed into him. "I've been wanting to feel you in me, for weeks, lover boy." "Zeke! No, not here, we could get caught." "Shhhh. Keep your voice down and we won't. Everyone in the dorm is asleep or out, so no one is going to notice. Besides we've not had a chance to see each other, like this, all nekked, wet, hot..." "Stop." Aaron said and he tried to pull away and out. Zeke's hands were to quick and still too strong. They reached behind his back and grabbed a hold of Aaron's side caressing his hips and abs, working down to his butt cheeks. "You want to leave this, now?" Zeke said as he started flexing his own buttocks making them squeeze and slightly rub on Aaron's soft cock stuffed inside him. "I want to feel you grow and fill me." With that Zeke started moving his hips and butt back and forth. "oh..." was all Aaron could say, along with a few moans shortly after. It didn't take long before Aaron felt it and tried to tell Zeke to stop once again. "S..ssss..st..t..t..t..op..p" Reaching around again, Zeke felt Aaron up from behind as best he could. "Man, you really were tense from studying weren't you? Or are you tense from making love? Why do you get so tense getting off? Wait..oh...yyyyyyeeeaah-ha ha-ha...that's it Aaron, let it go, let it grow!" Aaron had started to become errect inside of Zeke. Zeke was coaching it on. "Yeah... oh man, so long, so thick. You're up to about what ten inches now? come on! Hmnnnnfff get it up... show me how my lil man beats big old me. ..... uh, yeah about eleven now. Come on show me your foot long! whoa! ah...there it is... yes! Let me massage that for you with my butt." Zeke was lost in being filled so fully by his lover. He grabbed onto the top of the shower stall wall and did pullups on them lifting himself slightly up and down Aaron's shaft. Aaron stood there eye's rolling, skin turning red, lost in a sensation twenty times stronger than what Zeke was experiencing. But Zeke was making the most of his stiff lover. "Oh my god.... You had to stay short. If you got bigger, you'd probably have to be called yard stick. Ha ha.... ah fuck, you're so good. C'mon Aaron, say something. I love you too, the person. I want him to experience this as much as his member is. So long, so smooth, so thiiii-hick!" Zeke's eyes opened a little on his last ride down. "Damn, I must have gotten you worked up you feel a lil' BI-HIG!- er... A...aar..ron?" Aaron's cock was bigger and it was growing...lengthening, thickening, throbbing ever larger and larger with each pulse of blood. Zeke let out a couple of yelp moans and began to try his pull ups to pull himself off of Aaron. "Aaron, you're prick.. Ah-ho! I think it is grow-ING! Ah.. oh...my...god... so... big...huh..uh...so...thick....uhmf... the HEAD!" Indeed Zeke felt Aaron's rod grow, slink, further up and up his anus, and spreading his cheeks, his hole, more and more apart. He tried to do pull ups again but as far as he was trying to pull himself up, it seemed Aaron's snake grew too. He let go one time to try and get his footing on the floor then he'd turn him and Aaron around so he could be in the doorway and pull off. However, upon his toes touching the ground, he realized it was just the balls of his feet that were touching the ground, not the whole foot. He kicked them trying to get a foothold, but all they did was slide, and in the end it seemed only his toes reached the ground. No matter how long Aaron's schlong grew, this was not right... "A...a...aron? Are you growing?" No answer came from the young man. Zeke looked down and stared at Aaron's feet. They looked bigger than his. Almost as long as the tile one the floor, about 12" long. Zeke's eyes widened though as little by little, he saw it creep past the edge of the tile, but Aaron's heel wasn't moving forward. Aaron wasn't moving his feet; his feet we're growing. GROWING! Until shortly it seemed they were now a tile and a half long. This wasn't the only thing that seemed a foot and half long, if not longer. Aaron's cock was splitting Zeke in half, it felt like. Zeke tried to figure out what to do but was lost in watching Aaron. While watching the feet, he knew he saw Aaron's legs get longer and longer, a lil' thicker too, and perhaps a little bit muscular. He felt something swell, balloon up against his butt and realized it was Aaron's balls and sack. Trying to snap Aaron out of it, Zeke turned to scream out to him, but soon he was lost in realization. Aaron's torso stood taller than him, and a bit broader, his chest heaving up and down, developing more and more of a crescent look, the lats widening too. Zeke was seeing stars, in pain due to the amount of dick he had up his ass. He was woken up by the spray of water from the showerhead it was ricochetting off of Aaron's chest, for his head and shoulders were standing above it. Zeke was nearly lost in thought we suddenly he felt a tickling sensation in his ass - Aaron was blowing his load. Zeke was lost in euphoria, the sensation of the hot load flooding him, it felt like it was going up his butt, forced past his intestines, to rest in his stomach..... Zeke soon blew as well. Realizing Aaron was still somewhat in a stupor, Zeke pushed against the wall to shift his and Aaron's balance. If he didn't get off soon, the cum could dry and cement him to Aaron's, what felt like, yard long cock. It took a couple of tries, but Zeke finally succeeded in getting them turned a bit and slidding off Aaron's donkey dong, collapsed to the floor in front of the stall. Laying on the floor a while, Zeke stared across the stall at Aaron's feet; they looked HUGE! Zeke had seen size 23 tennis shoes and he was pretty sure Aaron's feet were bigger than those. Shakily, Zeke stood up and stammered, "A..Aaron, what happened?" He stood up straight and approached Aaron. Zeke's eyes came right to Aaron's shoulder. "hoooo-ly shit...." There in front of Zeke, was Aaron. Just moments ago he was a handsome, average, six foot tall, lithe swimmer's build, young man. Now, NOW....there stood a seven foot tall, basketball built athelete, with some of the largest dogs and the biggest dick ever seen on a man. Zeke picked up one of Aaron's hands, placing his in it, actually in it. His hand! That hand of his which used to dwarf Aaron's, now was engulfed by it. Aaron seemed to come out of the comatose state, just slightly, when Zeke placed a hand on Aaron's chest. He moved his head and looked down and saw Zeke standing there looking, short? "Zeke, what happened?" "Shhhhh...baby. I think you're going to need some rest." Zeke shut off the water, wrapped a towel around himself, two around Aaron, took him by the hand and led him back to their dorm room. He laid Aaron to sleep in his bed, looking at the long legs sticking slightly past the end and wondered what him and Aaron were going to do.

I'm going back to finish up stories I kind of left...forgotten...got stuck and dropped... So here is the reposting of this story and soon the continuation. I hope you enjoy. Pleasure Growth by F_R_Eaky Aaron was waiting in the examination room. He traveled to Dr. Yurgi's office in the hopes of evening things out, so to speak. His brothers, four of them, had all grown to be fairly good sized men between six feet to six feet four inches tall, but for some reason he stopped. Now 18, Aaron was much smaller compared to his older brothers as he was only 5'6". He received some ribbing from them for being small, and gay, although the family was actually accepting of his sexuality, but he did wish he had put on something of the same size as his brothers so he could rough-house back and help out better with work on the farm. He did fill out a little, but in general he still looked like a prepubescent boy. Cast downward, his ice blue eyes traced the lines in the tiles on the floor. Occasionally his hand flicked his platinum blond hair out of his lowered face, and he sighed waiting for the doctor's return. With the sudden opening of the door, Aaron's head snapped up and Doctor Yurgi stepped inside. "Good Afternoon, Aaron." "Afternoon." "Well, I bet you're anxious to hear the results." "Yeah." "Well, they're good. Very good. I think we'll go ahead and see if this works out for you. You understand what we're going to do?" "I think so. My body is lacking some of the chemicals, for my growth spurt to have happened, or they have some but way to few. You're going to insert some stem cells to create more of them and hopefully trigger a growth spurt response." Doctor Yurgi laughs. "Well… kind of. It's a little bit more complicated than that, but for someone your age and non-medical background, I think you've got a pretty good idea of what's going to happen." "Do you really think this will work?" "Unsure. We think it will. Our calculations predict it should. Course, that's not always the case… But if it does, you'll have your growth spurt and come closer or match your brothers soon." "How much taller will I get?" "Oh, it should be a normal growth spurt somewhere from four to nine inches depending on your genetics." "Cool" "Here take this, it'll help you sleep and when you wake up, you'll be on your way home and hopefully growing like a weed in a few days. Nurse Cloris, there will be two dishes in the lab, one with the stem cells, the other with some antibiotics, bring both here and prepare the syringes." One the other side of the Doctor's office, in his lab, there was Wylle. Wylle had been doing lots of study on genetics and in his free time in the lab had been working on a project for helping to create a perfect man: large feet and hands, tall body, extremely muscular, large balls and dick, hairy. He was a size queen for certain. He had just finished his batch of uber-DNA and set it aside in a Petri dish when a buzz came at the door announcing some work from Dr. Yurgi. When Wylle came back, his dish was gone…. A couple of months went by and Aaron's family felt a little down hearted for their son; the treatment hadn't worked. Aaron didn't seem too phased by it though. It might have been because he was used to being shorter than his brothers. He might have just decided, well, this is who I am and I'm going to be proud of it. It might have been because of Zeke. Zeke was a young man, Aaron's age, who had come to work as an assistant hand on Aaron's family's farm for some college money. He was svelt, tall, swarthy, gymnast build, and had an interest in Aaron. Jet black hair surrounded a set of blazing green eyes, very unusual and so very sensual above high cheekbones and full lips. It didn't hurt either that he was going to be attending the same college Aaron was attending. The two struck up a partnership for chores, that turned into a friendship, that turned into something more. The night before they were to depart for college, the two were out helping mend the fence line way back on the property. Burning hot was the sun that day. The young men kept their shirts and hats on for fear of being sunburned severly. With sweat the shirts clung to their bodies as they pounded in stakes and nailed boards to the sides, rigged barbed wired in between the slats. Zeke watched Aaron struggle with some of the wood but loved his perceverance in overcoming and completing the task. His stomach turned flip flops inside when he noticed Aarons shadow turn to him whenever he bent straight over to pick something up. Yes, Aaron would watch Zeke, admiring his but when he bent over, move up the back and look at the broad shoulders when Zeke would then stand up and stretch. Hour after hour passed with the nailing, the bending, the pounding, the lifting, the groaning, and suddenly… KABOOM! The men startled with jolt and looked up to the heavens. A massive thunderstorm had built up out of nowhere and was looming in on them. Quickly the boys grabbed everything they could and throw it together to be carried back as fast as they can, both of them knowing, they will not make it. About half way home, Zeke motions to Aaron to cut loose from the wagon; they'll never make it home safely with it in tow. As soon as they're unhooked the clouds unleashed a torrent of rain and they galloped across the plain soaked to the bone. An old stall stood near Zeke's ranch hand cabin. The guys decided to put the horses down there for the night instead of riding the rest of the way to the main complex. Running and laughing through the rain, Aaron and Zeke burst into Zeke's cabin and stood in front of the door dripping wet. "Damn, that cloud burst came outta nowhere!" "Shit, Zeke…I've seen worse ones pop up." "Well then you should've noticed the signs of this one!" said Zeke laughing and throwing Aaron a towel. "What am I gonna do with this?" "Dry yourself off, duh." "Won't do much good with these wet clothes on." "Yeah, true." Zeke laughed. "True." Aaron laughed. An enormous pause developed and hung heavy like the clouds outside the cabin. Zeke stared hard at Aaron. Aaron traveled up and down Zeke with his eyes until he met Zeke's then turned his head and blushed. "This is stupid, you know that?" "What?" Aaron said surprised. "Us." "U-u-us?" Stammered Aaron. Zeke moved in and pressed Aaron against a wall. His 6'4" frame looming down on Aaron. His head tilted over Aaron's right shoulder and neck, breathing hot and heavy, as it moved over the head and tilted then on the right side. The gymnast built torso leaning in a lil' on Aaron's, the legs and feet standing on either side of Aaron's. Moments passed as Aaron did nothing but stare at Zeke's chest, heaving slowly at first, but gaining in time, faster and faster, farther and farther, until he couldn't take it anymore and looked up right in to Zeke's eyes and froze. "Somewhere, inside of you, beats the heart of a big, big man. You strive to be more than you are. You demand of others and more importantly, yourself, that you do the same work as they. You keep trying harder and harder each day. And all that macho-ism is there in this lil' package with feather fly away blond hair and those piercing blue eyes…" "y..y..yeah…" "And I fell in love with you the moment our eyes met and knew something else between us should meet too." Zeke gently lifted Aaron's face up and locked lips full and firm. Aaron melted into the wall and nearly slunk to the floor, if he weren't held up by Zeke. "You know, you're gonna catch yourself to death with pneumonia if you don't get outta those wet clothes, Aaron." "uh…ah….(pant)…really? H…h…ho..how..ow..ow… d… do I prevent that?" Zeke firmly pushed Aaron to the wall. Moving to the middle of Aaron's shirt, in one easy motion he pulled the sides away from each other showering himself with small western buttons. As the shirt, guided by Zeke's meaty hands, cascaded off of Aaron, the same guides grabbed the bands of both the jeans and underwear and pulled them to the floor. Aaron stepped out of the pile of clothes and his boots blushing all over, staring dreamily into Zeke's emerald eyes. Bending forward Zeke once again pressed his body into Aarons and whispered in his ear, "Shuck me." Aaron followed the command almost hypnotically, peeling the soaked plaid off of Zeke's broad shoulders, burying his head into Zeke's pecs and tracing the crevice down through the abs with his face. Kneeling in front of Zeke, he fumbled a bit with Zeke's belt buckle and fly button, but finally let the pants fall. When they did so, Zeke stepped out of them, scooped up Aaron, carrying him to the bed. Laying him on the bed, Zeke starred at Aaron. Aaron in turned looked down his body at Zeke's midsection. LORD! Zeke looked huge. Maybe around a foot. "It's eleven." "W..w…wow." Aaron swallowed hard. "I won't break you. I can't break you. You're so…." Gliding round and round Aaron's rim, till finally driving ever so slowly into the middle. "OH FUCK, soooo tight." Slowly methodically, Zeke plunged in and out of Aaron. Aaron sat there with stars in his eyes for a while and slowly, gradually, the rush of lust, sexual desire began to come over him. He moaned for a moment and Zeke looked down to see Aaron's prick finally stir. Slowly it began to ooze out of him, snaking its way towards his abs. With each inch longer, it began to get thicker too. "Yeah, Aaron, let it go. Get aroused. Cum with me." On and on it kept going getting longer and longer, thicker and thicker, harder and harder. "Holy shit, Aaron. Look at it go! Who knew you were such a grower!" But looking down, Zeke noticed that all over, Aaron was turning the same color as his member. "Aaron, are ya still embarrassed? You're blushing all over. I told you… I'm hot for you and you should just give in, enjoy." Zeke pulled out and kneeled down at the end, going for Aaron's crotch. Zeke whistled lowly, "Whoa, look at your balls. Aaron, if you haven't grown yet, you've gotta grow sometime soon… yer balls are huge… gotta be full of testosterone, and……cum." And he dove in licking the balls and sucking the shaft of Aaron. All this time Aaron kept moaning, groaning, turning red, almost purple, like his prick. His muscles kept stiffening, and perhaps filling out. Aaron felt the pull of Zeke's mouth over every part of his body. On his balls he felt himself swell. On his prick he felt himself inflate. On his nipples he felt himself spread. Heart pounding, heading spinning, groin burning, when Zeke finally started sucking the schlong and fondling the nips, Aaron lost it stretching his arms, his legs, hands and toes out everywhere while his hips began to buck. "Ah…ahhh….oh… ZEKE! GOD! Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." Cumming loads and loads to where Zeke couldn't almost take it, Aaron moaned low and soft until he appeared to have passed out with a wry smile on his face. Grabbing a damp towel, Zeke started wiping him and Aaron off while telling him over and over, "Damn, lover. Who knew you had such a manly package. I think ya got me beat. I'm sure you have at least twelve." What was Zeke saying, thought Aaron. I know I've only got about six inches tops. "And ya know something," said Zeke as he climbed into bed next to Aaron pulling a comforter around them. "I think this summer I've helped put you through a work out cause I'm sure you're buffer than from the start of this summer." With that he cuddled Aaron close to him and they drifted off to sleep. ROOOOOM! Came the sound of the thunder in the middle of the night. It woke Aaron from a dream. Straining his eyes, he peered into the darkness beside him until the form of Zeke lying beside him came into focus. He caressed Zeke's face and then he slowly, gently got out of the bed to walk around for a bit and get a glass of water. Walking across the floor, Aaron stopped and spun around to look back to the bed. He thought he heard Zeke's footsteps across the floor. Zeke was still in bed. Looking down at his feet, Aaron almost gasped in shock – they were huge! Tapping them up and down he heard them making a nice heavy and meaty thump on the floor. What was going on? He went to get the glass of water to help steady himself. Reaching up as he approached the cabinet his hand smacked the middle of it with a loud whack! Jumping back in surprise, Aaron examined the reach of his arm. He reached out instinctively, knowing that at that height he would get the bottom corner of the cabinet, but instead his hand hit the middle of it. Shaking his head as if to clear cobwebs, Aaron walked back across the floor but stopped when he came to Zeke's boots. He stared at his feet and the boots for a long time then finally tried to slip one of his feet in. He had to push a bit to get it in, and once finally down, the boots felt a little tight! "What the hell?" thought Aaron. "Zeke wears a fourteen and a half, how can my feet feel tight in this?" The lightning flashed and revealed marks on the door frame. Aaron stared in disbelief. This cabin was normally used for the boys' sleep-overs, parties, and such while growing up. Aaron's dad used to mark everyone's height over the years on the door. What Aaron saw and realized now was unbelievable. He was staring straight ahead and his eye level standing straight and tall was above his last marking, his current height of 5' 6". He was now somewhere around six feet tall. Feeling light headed from the startling realization, Aaron staggered back into bed and curled up into Zeke. He must still be dreaming. This couldn't happen in a day or a night. It's all an image of the mind. Aaron drifted back to sleep wondering.

* hey guys sorry for wait again, FYI the pics will not be of the same guy, just pulled random pics based on current and future physiques* 11/4/13 OMG OMG OMG OMG!!!!!!!! I can't explain how i look and feel right now, those pills god damn work, here's me last night: http://www.fitnessandpower.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/skinny1.jpg And me now: http://www.purelifts.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/How-to-build-muscle-naturally-for-skinny-guys1.jpg As you can see there has been a major change overnight and that was just 1 pill, imagine if i took 2 or 3 a night, hmmmmm. Anyway jack left for his training camp this morning, so i ended up going to the gym on my own, the workout clothes i had worn in previous weeks still fit but they were really tight on my new body, i had pecs now so they pressed tight against the t-shirt, the t-shirt also hugged my abs quite nicely, my bi's n tri's caressed the arms of the t-shirt without it being tight against them, my legs have gained some mass and definition, the joggers i have still fit properly but but slightly hugged my thighs and butt. I arrived at the gym and was greeted not by looks of total astonishment but looks of slight shock by seemingly rapid weight and muscle gain since yesterday. I went onto the gym floor with a slight air of confidence about myself knowing that i would be able to lift heavier than i had yesterday, now im not going to go through all the exercises that i did because there is other things i need you all to see but here is what i lifted today compared to first day: Bench - 1st day 5kg - Today 55kg Squat - 1st day 10kg - Today 60kg Deadlift - 1st day just bar - Today 60kg Pullups - 1st day not one - today 10 Dips - 1st day non - Today 15 Bicep Curls - 1st day 8kg - today 18kg As you can see guys there has been a major shift in strength just imagine wot i can lift in a few days!!! i went back into the locker room and looked in the mirror, wow oh wow, i had a epic pump going on, i couldn't resist flexing my bi's, my god they formed a decent size lump which stretched my sleeve to the limit, i didn't have a tape with me to measure but i measured them when i got in and they measured 15" when i first started i was lucky if they broke 7" so im fucking buzzing at mo. Im off college today but i feel as though i should share these next two pics with you, i got a text earlier from buff dave, it read TAKE A LOOK AT THESE, DAVE. The first pic is dave taking a topless selfie and my god he is buff n getting ripped. The second is the gargantuan Alex who according to dave kindly supplied him with a pic all im saying is HUUUUUUGE. http://sv6.postjung.com/picpost/data/254/254826-52becde0acf23.jpg http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ey6zXv2ObK8/UG0gPJuprqI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/OB9DDttEgUs/s640/394201_360658400674888_104173225_n.jpg As you can see there both pretty damn built in there own right!!! Day off gym tomorrow as at college all day, i intend to ask how dave was given a pic of alex so kindly supplied by him. Anyway i will update tomorrrow if i can if not it will be the next day

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

I am hoping there are other fans of the IFNB out there… It is, in my opinion, one of the best, consistent and intensely erotic muscle fiction series out there! I have been VERY in to the ongoing muscle fiction of the IFNB for a few years. It is a unique work, because it is not told like a traditional story but is told via "reports" from the world of the IFNB (International Federation of Naked Bodybuilding). Every post is coverage of a contest, backstage or personal profile of huge, hung, alpha-aggressive athletes. Over the course of the short posts, story lines and themes emerge and it becomes VERY hot. The creator(s?) clearly know the real world of competitive bodybuilding yet also have broad-ranging imaginations. Everything from vanilla muscle worship to hardcore gang rape and everything in between! Old-young, coach-jock, hetero and homo, extreme sex and basic showing off . . . it all seems to happen in this world. The cool part is that they acknowledge in clever ways how this has been going on in real life and why none of us are familiar. They are tethered to real life (even if the muscle growth stuff is sometimes pure science fiction), so it makes it hotter. I also like how they RESPOND TO OUR COMMENTS and the storyline follows the fans' interests. The hot discussions and sub-fantasies that emerge are sometimes as hot as the posts themselves. I really get into chatting IFNB with other fans, so thought I'd post here and see who else loves these stories?

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

Eleven Sean blinked a few times and slowly opened his sleep-filled eyes. The feeling of a strong hand caressing and groping his big, hard muscles had awakened him. “Hi there, buddy”, he said as he looked into Keith’s blue eyes. “Did I wake the sleeping beauty?”, Keith asked and leaned in to kiss his friend’s lips while he kept groping the mass of Sean’s muscular chest. “Not a bad way to wake up”, Sean replied as he enjoyed the feeling of being worshipped by his smaller, athletic friend. He grabbed the back of Keith’s head with his meaty left paw and pulled him in for a deep, long kiss. Keith’s almost 9 incher poked against the hard mass of Sean’s beefy quad as it hardened fully. He dragged himself on top of his buddy’s broad, muscle-filled frame without breaking the kiss. His own hard cock throbbed between the hard ridges of abs on their bodies. He could feel Sean’s impressive meat inching upward against his abs as blood pumped to the lengthening shaft. Sean broke the kiss and breathed in deeply, making his thick rack of pecs swell against his buddy’s muscular chest. “Did they ever tell you what a great kisser you are?”, he said as he gently stroked Keith’s hair with his left paw and roamed his friend’s broad back with his other paw. Keith smiled at his buddy and slid down against his hard frame. Electric shivers of pleasure travelled along his spine as his own hard muscles rubbed against the bulk of Sean’s bigger and harder ones, while his hands kept feeling the mass of Sean’s arms. He kept sliding down until the head of his throbbing almost 9 incher made contact with warm cheeks of his friend’s hard ass. Keith thrust upwards quickly, slamming his cock into the juicy ass. “Fuck”, Sean grunted in surprise and his 15 incher jolted between their muscular bodies. He folded his hands behind his head, enjoying the feeling of Keith’s 200 pound frame dominating his own 270 pounds of muscle. Keith grabbed hold of the steely masses of Sean’s relaxed biceps and pounded his buddy’s ass with all his force. Moans of ecstasy and pleasure escaped his mouth as he felt Sean’s rock-hard cock jolt against his own six-pack; he devoured Sean’s lips in a frenetic kiss. Sean was surprised by his buddy’s dominating performance. It was better than his wildest dreams. He tried to hold back but orgasm built at lightning speed by the force and speed of Keith’s thrusts in his ass. “Keithughn”, he moaned as orgasm raced through his big body, sending jolts of pleasure to every cell and spasm through his beefy muscles. His 15 incher exploded between their bodies, splattering their muscular pecs and abs with cum. Feeling his bigger friend explode against his athletic body and knowing that he had caused it, sent Keith over the edge. His almost 9 incher blasted five big loads into Sean’s spasming body. The hard, clenching muscles of his buddy’s meaty ass milked out two more loads. Breathlessly, Keith collapsed onto Sean’s muscular, yet sticky, chest; his cock slowly deflating inside his buddy’s ass. Meanwhile, a frightening howl awoke Tomas from a peaceful sleep. He quickly realized that the dark lord had awoken him. He smiled as he looked down on his improved, 305 pound, muscle-filled frame. He marveled at the incredible size of the totally out of proportion rack of muscle that formed his chest. A faint noise distracted him and made him turn his head to the far-side of the room. He smirked evilly as he laid eyes on the kneeling figure in the corner. Friar Clarke, still trapped by the infernal power of the red triangle on the floor, was praying for salvation. “Holy mother of God, give me the strength to withstand the forces of evil…” “Shouldn’t you invoke the holy ‘roids’, friar doping?”, Tomas asked laughingly, “Where was God yesterday when you needed him? Did he give you extra strength when you fought me?”. “Don’t mock the heavenly forces, you hellish beast”, Friar Clarke answered, “Repent now and save your soul from eternal damnation in the depths of Hell! And I’ve never taken any illegal substances!”. “Ts ts ts”, Tomas replied mockingly, “Don’t you know that every lie makes baby Jesus cry? Your roid gut is all the proof we need. And do you really think I’m the one in this room that will feel the eternal wrath of the burning flames in the depths of Hell? You’re the one standing in the horned triangle that communicates directly with the dark lord. Your soul shall be cast in the darkest regions to undergo the most unfathomable tortures by the hellish servants for eternity! And your body will help to create the biggest creature on campus! All we need now is to start the process and end everything before midnight.” The sound of the opening door interrupted Tomas and the diminished Anton, wearing baggy basketball-shorts and a ridiculously large hockey-shirt, entered. “You summoned me, master?”, he asked as he drank in the sight of the spectacular body in front of him. “Yes, my pet”, Tomas stated, “Today is the big day. Or, the day that you’ll be big again; bigger than anyone on this campus. I see you’ve found your outfit. Good.” “Good?”, Anton answered, “I look like a midget wearing a tent!”. “Patience, my pet. Have faith and believe in the dark lord and you shall be rewarded! Now, let’s write an invitation for our good friends”, Tomas said calmly. “I will fetch something to write”, Anton said and rushed to the open door. Tomas snapped his fingers and grinned at the surprised look on Anton’s and Friar Clarke’s faces. The door shut instantly and locked itself; an icy chill invaded the room along with hellish chants that echoed against the ceiling; an ancient looking parchment appeared in midair, accompanied by a demonic claw holding a flaming feather. Anton gasped and Friar Clarke invoked Jesus as the floating, demonic claw began writing down every word Tomas said, the letters burning into the parchment. As soon as Tomas stopped talking, the demonic claw disappeared and a black, evilly looking raven emerged and grabbed the parchment. It flew toward the locked door, that opened magically and continued its cursed flight in the hallway. “Okay, my pet. Let’s go and wait for our friends in the wrestle hall”, Tomas said. “You’re not sure they’ll come!”, Friar Clarke yelled out. “You fool! No one has ever declined a deal with the Devil!”, Tomas replied and left the room followed by Anton. Keith and Sean were still recovering from their morning activity as a scratching sound pulled their attention to the door. Before either of them could react, the door magically opened and the black raven flew in. It circled a few times above their muscular bodies, screeching evilly and dropped the ancient looking parchment before disappearing into the hallway. As it flew out of the room, the door closed behind it. Keith stared at his bigger friend lying next to him in the bed and reached for the parchment. Before he could grab it, the parchment rose into the air. A demonic, hairy claw appeared and unfolded the document; a loud, infernal voice filled the room as it read the text. It is time to end things once and for all. A final confrontation shall take place to determine who rules here: good or evil. The two of you shall face the champion of Hell in a wrestling match. If you win, me and my pet shall disappear from your lives forever and the 150 pounds of muscle I’ve gained are yours! If you lose, one of you guys will give up part of his muscle mass. If you guys decline, we shall hunt you down to the ends of the Earth and cast Friar Clarke’s soul in the deepest regions of Hell! Meet your destiny in the wrestle hall at 9 p.m.! As the voice disappeared and the parchment burnt spontaneously in midair, Keith realized he had clamped onto his friend’s muscular frame. “What do we do, buddy?”, he asked as he released his grip on Sean’s thick arm. “Well, we don’t have much choice”, Sean replied, “If we run, they’ll keep chasing us for the rest of our lives and they’ll kill Friar Clarke. The two of us can take any one in a wrestling match, especially with my new body.” “You don’t think it’s a trick?”, Keith asked, “For all we know that champion of Hell could be a beast with 8 arms and 6 legs. Or a horse with a human head. Or a dragon.” “We’ll face them and if that champion is a dragon or a monster, we can always run for it. Let’s get cleaned up”, Sean said and leapt from the bed. Kurt was changing in the locker room after swim practice. Once more, Anton hadn’t shown up and had missed training. I’ll have to punish him for missing practice, he thought. And his cock hardened at the thought of Anton’s muscular physique. He quickly grabbed a towel and held it in front of his tented briefs as he heard someone entering the locker room. He recognized the diminished Anton and yelled: “What the hell happened to you?”. Anton opened his mouth but Tomas cut him off. “My pet is at the verge of a major growth spurt. He’ll be bigger than ever and every one you’ve ever seen.”. “Bigger than before?”, Kurt asked as he drank in the sight of Tomas’ big muscles pressing against his tight clothes. His dick jolted, causing the towel to move. “I euhm still have to punish you for missing practice”, he said to Anton. “If you help us now, you can punish Anton later tonight”, Tomas said and winked to his pet. “What do you want me to do?,”, Kurt asked eagerly. “You know the rules for wrestling?,”, Tomas replied as he led the two smaller men over to the wrestle hall. At 8.45 pm, Sean and Keith cautiously walked into the locker room. Keith put on his familiar red singlet, loving the feeling of the tight fabric against his muscular, 200 pound frame. Sean put on his newly bought blue singlet, stretched to its limits by his beefy, muscle-filled, 270 pound body. “Let’s do this”, he said as he preceded Keith into the wrestle hall. Sean protectively positioned himself in front of his friend as he noticed Tomas’ intimidating body in the center of the room. “Ah! Right on time”, Tomas said as he turned toward Sean and Keith, “I’m happy you guys didn’t wimp out. Ready for the match, champs?”. “I’m not gonna fight you”, Sean stated, “you’re way bigger than me. And I’m not gonna let you hurt Keith.”. “Didn’t you get my invitation, champ?”, Tomas asked laughingly, “You don’t have to fight me. You guys will face the champion of Hell. He’s right here.” Sean and Keith burst out in laughter as the diminished Anton, wearing his baggy clothes, appeared from behind Tomas. “The two of us against that runt?”, Sean asked. “That’s our deal. Defeat him and you guys get half of my current muscle mass. Lose and one of you guys will give up half his muscle mass. Run for it and your souls will be cast directly in the depths of Hell! What do you champs chose?”, Tomas asked. “You can kiss your muscles goodbye. Let’s do this!”, Sean said as he stepped up to Anton and towered over his 160 pound, swimmer’s body. “As you guys agree, a fight it shall be!”, Tomas howled and raised his hands in the air. The entire wrestle hall began shaking as the middle wrestle mats began rising upward. Within seconds they formed a ring, 2 feet above the rest of the wrestle hall. Four poles sprang upward at the four corners of the ring and elastic ropes magically appeared between them. Immediately a large, steel cage fell from the ceiling; imprisoning them in it. “A cage match like in show wrestling?”, Keith asked. “No, little man”, Tomas replied from outside the ring. He had magically transported himself to a floating chair, “In Hell, we play Mortal Combat to settle things.” “We’re not in Hell here, you fool!”, Sean yelled in response. “Aren’t we?”, Tomas replied laughingly and closed his eyes in concentration. As soon as Tomas closed his eyes, the wrestle hall shook as if an earthquake hit it. The mats outside of the caged ring disappeared into the earth as the ground ripped open. A sulfur-like stench filled the room and pain-filled screams of terror echoed from deep canyons around the ring. The glow of fire flickered in the dark depths of these canyons and horrifying, giant bat-like creatures flew above them, holding damned souls in their claws as they let out harrowing screams. Keith had instinctively grabbed Sean’s meaty arm for protection. “Don’t worry, champs. They won’t hurt you as long as you are in the cage. Should you try to escape from it before the match is over, they will grab you and drag you to the depths of Hell!”, Tomas said, “Are you ready to fight?”. “What are the rules?”, Sean asked. “In Mortal Combat, there is only one rule: the last survivor wins. Here you don’t have to kill anyone. The one that pins his opponent, wins. Our referee shall decide it.”, Tomas replied and pointed to Kurt. “Chose who will begin the fight.”. Sean and Keith talked shortly and decided that Keith would start. Sean stepped out of the ring, placing himself against the ropes to avoid the deathly claws of the creatures outside of the ring. “FIGHT!”, Tomas yelled. Anton sprang into action. He launched himself toward Keith and propelled his fist into the wrestler’s abs. It dug slightly in the hard surface of his opponent’s six-pack. He pulled back his fist for a second blow, but Keith recovered quickly. He blocked Anton’s punch in his strong hand and simply overpowered his grip. He forced Anton down on his knees, slipped behind him and locked him in a full nelson. He locked his hands behind his opponent’s head and dug his 17.5 inch biceps into his lats as he lifted him from the floor. Anton struggled but his larger opponent hardened his hold. His feet left the ground as Keith lifted him upward and his back hit the floor hard as Keith slammed him down. Keith slowly and smilingly walked over to Sean and tagged him in, stepping out between the ropes. Sean stepped over to the center of the ring where Anton lay down with a painful expression on his face. “Get up, champ”, Sean said laughingly as he signaled Anton to stand up and fight. Anton got up slowly and Sean immediately rammed his meaty fist in the weak swimmer’s stomach, knocking him back down. “Your muscles are ours!”, Sean yelled at Tomas in his floating chair. A sound behind him caught his attention, but it was too late. Anton had crawled up behind Sean and threw up his arm behind the bigger man’s legs. Sean slumped to his knees as Anton’s hard, 15 inch arm made contact with his cock and balls. Anton tried to knee him in the face, but Sean managed to block him, easily overpowering the swimmer’s leg with his 25 inch arm. He got up and his opponent hit him in the stomach. A thud resounded as Anton’s fist made contact with the hard 10-pack. Sean just smiled but Anton kept hitting his abs. As the punches seemed to get harder, Sean returned the favor. The wind was knocked out of Anton as the meaty paw sank deep in his stomach; he slumped to his feet. Sean stared down at the battered swimmer in the baggy outfit at his feet. He smiled and strutted over to Keith to let his buddy finish the job. Keith jumped in eagerly and danced around his opponent. The smile left his face as Anton got up and looked directly in his eyes. He gulped as he noticed how the swimmer’s shoulders looked clearly bigger under the baggy hockey-shirt; they were broader than his own. The magic, horned triangle that trapped Friar Clarke was feeding the friar’s mass directly into Anton’s body. The formerly 160 pound swimmer could feel the energy and strength coursing through his growing body. “Let’s have some fun”, Anton said in a deeper voice. He grabbed the surprised Keith’s shoulder and slammed his right fist into his abs, busting though the defenses of the hard six-pack. “Aghn”, Keith said and a second blow sank in even deeper, making his knees buckle. He raised his hand in a protective reflex but couldn’t prevent his opponent from burying his thick fist in his abs for a third time. Keith sank to the floor on his knees, leaning forward to catch his breath. “Get up”, Anton said mockingly while standing still in front of his fallen opponent. Keith got up slowly and disbelief filled his eyes as he had to stare up to look in Anton’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but Anton’s strong hand grabbed his throat and lifted him off the ground. Pain exploded through his athletic body as his back was slammed hard against the floor and Anton’s strong, meaty fist smacked into his battered abs. Anton grabbed Keith’s singlet, lifted him off the ground and tossed him over to where Sean was standing. He crashed into the ropes and weakly tagged in his buddy as he left the ring. Anger, fear and disbelief filled Sean’s big body as he stepped over to his opponent. The baggy hockey-shirt could no longer hide Anton’s muscular body. The mass of the swimmer’s broad, growing shoulders formed a strong line underneath the still a bit too big shirt; swelling quads were visibly filling the large basketball-shorts. He’s still smaller than me, Sean thought as he tried to get his opponent in a headlock. Anton somehow anticipated this move and their hands locked; they were struggling for an advantage and Sean could feel his opponent’s grip getting stronger and stronger with each passing second. Suddenly, Anton’s knee made contact with his cock and Sean slumped down in pain. Anton grabbed Sean’s singlet to lift him up, but Sean grabbed his opponent’s forearms and pulled him down. Surprised, Anton went down and Sean wrapped his powerful, thick legs around his opponent’s torso. He tightened his hold by flexing his steely quads against the swimmer’s chest. Anton grunted and squirmed as the air was forced out him but couldn’t free himself. Kurt slumped down and began counting: “1! 2! …”. Just before the final count, Anton broke Sean’s hold and rolled over on his stomach in the ring. He slowly got up, but Sean’s strong, 25 inch arms passed under his arms and locked behind his head. Sean locked his hold hard, driving his steely biceps deep into his opponent's lats. A load ripping sound followed as Sean further tightened his hold. The smile left his face as Anton got up and simply lifted him off the ground; his opponent had totally outgrown him. Sean broke his hold and jumped down to the floor. His mouth fell open in disbelief as Anton turned around. The baggy hockey-shirt had ripped under the pressure of the swimmer’s huge, swelling muscles. His growing pecs had pushed through the once too large shirt as more and more mass inflated them; the ripped sleeves hung like rags around the balls of muscles that formed his biceps; his thick, broad shoulder’s made Sean impressive 270 pound body look skinny. The large basketball-shorts didn’t even reach the behemoth’s knees anymore; they were pushed to their limits by the titanic quads underneath. Anton smiled as he looked down on his opponent. Sean decided he wouldn’t go down easy. He wrapped his arms around his opponent and applied a bone crushing bear hug. Anton just laughed and inhaled deeply, overpowering and breaking Sean’s hold. Sean tried to step back, but was too slow. Anton’s meaty hand grabbed his singlet and he was lifted over Anton’s head. Anton tossed his opponent toward one of the poles. Sean grunted in pain as his broad, muscular back slammed against the steel pole. Before he could slump to his knees, Anton threw himself against his opponent, sandwiching Sean’s powerful, 270 pound body between the steel pole and his own thick frame filled with steely hard muscles. Sean’s vision went black as the wind was forced out of him and he crashed down onto his knees as Anton stepped back. “Let’s finish it!”, Anton said as he reached down to grab his battered opponent. “NO!”, Keith yelled and jumped in to rescue his friend. He climbed up to top rope and launched himself feet first toward the behemoth. The energy of his jump upped his force as his feet collided against the thick, broad back in front of him. It was enough to make the behemoth fall over, crashing his protruding chest into the steel pole. Color drained from Keith’s face as his opponent turned around and towered over him in height and width. “You wanna dance, little boy?”, Anton rumbled in a thunder-like deep voice. His meaty paw grabbed hold of Keith’s singlet and he launched him backwards in the ropes. The elastic ropes were forced back by Keith’s 200 pound body but sprang forward quickly, sending Keith flying toward the behemoth in the center of the ring. Anton extended a thick, hard arm next to his body and Keith’s muscular chest smacked into it. All the air was forced out of Keith’s lungs by the impact; it felt like he had hit a tree. His feet left the ground and he fell backwards toward the ground. Anton’s paw grabbed his chest, covering two thirds of it, and slammed him down, adding more force to the impact. “Aghn”, Keith muttered weakly as the air was forced out of his lungs once more and he felt his ribs crack. He instinctively raised his hands to protect his face as he saw a titanic arm reaching for him. Disorientation filled his head as his feet left the ground and he was lifted up by the huge paw grabbing his singlet. “You’re so light”, Anton said laughingly and looked at his opponent dangling in his grasp, “Let’s end it”. He raised his other fist and slammed it hard against Keith’s abs. His thick, meaty fingers easily crushed the hard six-pack underneath, sinking deeply into it. Anton laughed loud as Keith’s arms flung weakly in his direction and threw punch after punch into his opponent’s abs. Sean was slowly regaining his vision after being crushed between the pole and Anton’s body. He blinked a few times as his vision came back and gasped as he noticed Anton ravaging his friend’s body. He feared for Keith’s life as punches kept raining down on his abs. Keith wasn’t even defending himself anymore; whenever Anton’s fist sank into his stomach, his head simply shot back. Sean summoned all of his remaining forces, grabbed onto the ropes to get up and got up. He walked over to the behemoth’s back to free his friend. “Let’s finish you off for good”, Anton said to the passed out Keith in his grasp. He raised his fist to slam it into his opponent face when pain exploded through his massive body. He dropped his past out opponent and slumped down, putting his huge paws protectively in front of his agonizing cock. Sean had slammed the behemoth’s dick with all his force and marveled at the result. He knew very well that he didn’t stand a chance if he played nicely. He rushed over to his fallen friend and panicked as he saw blood dripping from the past out Keith’s lips. He saw his buddy breathing and tried to check his pulse. A thick hand grabbed the back of his singlet and lifted him up before he could reach his buddy’s wrist. “Prepare for some pain, worm”, Anton rumbled angrily. He lifted Sean’s 270 pound body effortlessly up and smacked his broad back against his protruding, gigantic pecs. Two arms the size of small trees wrapped across Sean’s chest and hardened the hold. Sean knew there was no escape from this crushing bear hug. His own hard pecs were simply no match for the two stony hard, bowling ball-sized biceps that dug into them. He could also feel the hard masses of muscles on the behemoth’s chest pressing hard into his own thick back. He squirmed and flexed his muscles with all his force, but didn’t move an inch; his 270 pound, muscular body was no match for the behemoth’s bone crushing grasp. Even now he’s still growing, Sean thought as he felt the titanic muscles swell around his body. He grunted in pain as he felt his ribs beginning to give in under the tightening grip. Anton smiled at his beaten opponents and decided to finish the match. He released one gigantic arm and grabbed hold of Sean’s body with his right paw. He marveled at how light the wrestler’s 270 pound, muscular body felt to him. He tossed his opponent down on his back and covered half of his chest with his paw, pressing Sean’s back against the floor. He waited for the countdown and looked up in surprise as he didn’t hear it. He grinned as he saw Kurt drinking in the sight of his spectacular body and beating off furiously. “Quit playing and do your job, ref”, he bellowed. Kurt quickly put his throbbing cock back in his pants and began counting: “1. 2. 3!”. A bell sounded and the frightening bats let out an evil sound. Anton slowly got up and smiled as he stared down at his battered opponents. He raised his arm in a victory flex, sending the remains of his ripped up, once baggy, hockey shirt flying off his gigantic arms. “ Well done, my pet.”, Tomas said as he stepped into the ring from his floating chair. The infernal creatures and cage disappeared magically and the wrestle hall returned to normal as he stepped over toward Sean’s beaten body. “Time to keep up your part of the deal”, he said as he looked directly into the wrestler’s eyes.

Eight “We have to go and see if my uncle is okay”, Keith said as he released Sean from his embrace and put his shirt back on. “You’re right, buddy”, Sean replied as he gulped down a mass gain shake. Keith opened the door, scanned the hallway and signaled Sean to follow him. The two athletes wandered through the crowded hallways on their way to the parking lot. A loud voice yelled their names. “Wait up, gentlemen!” Sean jumped up and Keith positioned himself protectively in front of his buddy. They sighed in relief as they saw the dean coming their way. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you, Keith”, the dean said as closed the gap between them, “Why don’t you follow me to my office?” The three men walked silently toward the dean’s office. They greeted the secretary and entered. “What happened to my uncle?”, Keith asked as soon as the door was closed. “Why don’t you gentlemen have a seat and calm down”, the dean replied. “Tell it, sir. Is it that bad?”, Keith said. “Well, your uncle is in a better place right now”, the dean replied, “He’s in the hospital undergoing surgery as we speak. He has broken several bones in his nasty fall”. “I should have protected him!”, Keith yelled and tears filled his eyes. “I’ve got a meeting coming up. So could you gentlemen please return to your room?”, the dean said as he opened the door. Sean put his hand on his bigger friend’s back and silently escorted him back to their room. “I’ll kill him!”, Keith yelled angrily as he pounded the wooden desk in their room. “Calm down, buddy”, Sean said, “We both know that we’re no match for Tomas and Anton. In my diminished state I can’t back you up. You go visit your uncle and I’ll find a way to get big again. Then, we’ll crush ‘em!”. Keith slowly calmed down and put a hand on Sean’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself, buddy. And promise me that you won’t take any illegal things to get your muscles back”, Keith said as he looked down in Sean’s eyes. “But how could I regain my lost mass…”, Sean answered. “Promise me!”, Keith said. “Ok, buddy. You’re right. I’ll stick to mass gain shakes and protein bars”, Sean replied. “Watch yourself while I’m gone. I don’t want anything to happen to you”, Keith said as he wrapped his strong arms around his friend’s body and pulled him in for a kiss. Surprise flickered in Sean’s eyes as his lips made contact with Keith’s. Bliss filled his mind; none of his kisses with Vicky had ever felt this good. The kiss ended way too soon as Keith released him from his grip and left the room, abandoning Sean with his contradictory feelings. Meanwhile, Anton slowly regained consciousness. He opened his eyes and noticed that he was lying in a sticky pool of dried cum. He got up and stared at the large stain of his dried cum on the wall. The sound of streaming water caught his attention. He turned around and slowly strutted to the bathroom. Steamy clouds of hot fog escaped the bathroom as he opened the door. The broad silhouette of his master’s enhanced physique was highlighted against the shower curtain. Tomas turned around and stared down at his muscular pet. Standing 6’6 tall, he could simply look over the shower curtain. “I’m just finishing up, buddy. You’ll have the shower in a minute”, he said and stepped out off the shower. Anton just stared at his master’s god-like physique. The tree trunk-sized muscles on Tomas’ quads bulged and rippled as he stepped out off the shower; his rock-hard, deeply grooved ten-pack abs oozed perfection; his hyper-sized pecs dwarfed all his other big muscles; they had always been a bit out of proportion due to his training as a gymnast, but now they simply looked like two pillows of vein-crossed, striated, hard beef; a thick vein crept from their top over Tomas’ broad, thick delts, only slightly broader than Anton’s; massive, solid, round biceps decorated his arms. Anton hadn’t even noticed his own dick, racing to hardness. A big load shot from its head and splattered against his master’s ten-pack. Sean smirked at Anton’s reaction. He looked down to the cum sliding in the deep cuts between his own hard abs and stepped in the shower again. “Come here and clean up your mess!”, he said as he grabbed his pet’s muscular upper arm and dragged him into the shower. A second load blasted from Anton’s cock as he felt Tomas' big paw easily overpowering his 19 inch bicep. He shivered as his 210 pound, muscular frame rubbed against his master’s now clearly bigger body in the narrow shower. He placed his own paw against the hard surface of Tomas’ stomach and began rubbing off his cum. Tomas enjoyed the feeling of Anton’s strong paw rubbing his ten-pack. Blood flowed to his cock and he involuntarily clenched his hard abs. Anton blew another load as he felt the steely hard abs harden further under his grasp. A stirring movement caught his attention and he looked down to see his master’s impressive cock harden between his thick quads. Anton placed his other paw on his master’s incredibly gigantic chest and rubbed it with all his force, unable to dent the relaxed, rock-hard pillow of muscle. Tomas smiled as he felt his pet trying to dent his chest. It would take more than a 19 inch arm to dig into his pecs. He grabbed Anton’s strong, meaty shoulders, turned him around and shoved his rock-hard 12 incher up his ass, easily pushing past the clenched muscles of his pet’s strong ass. Anton whimpered as his master rammed his cock in his ass. He’s so strong, he thought as he relaxed his glutes. His cock jolted and a final load dribbled from his7.5 incher. “Think you could do another round of 80 squats with me on your back?”, Tomas whispered in his pet’s ear as he grabbed his hips and began pounding his ass with all his force, “I’d be surprised if you’d manage to do 1 rep with my 235 pounds on your back.” Anton just moaned in response to his master. His 7.5 incher thwacked against his eight-pack. His drained balls protested with painful stabs; they were completely empty after their explosions in the room and the bathroom. “You’re gonna give me another load, buddy”, Tomas rumbled in his ear and his strong paw grabbed Anton’s still hard 7.5 incher. “Nouhn”, Anton mumbled painfully as his balls protested more violently. He grabbed his master’s forearm and tried to pull it off his cock, but his 19 inch arms were no match for his master’s 22 inch bicep. It seemed like Tomas’ powerful paw was about to rip his 7.5 incher right off his body as it stroked the rock-hard shaft violently. YEAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGHHHHHH! Tomas’ deep voice filled the bathroom and vibrated down Anton’s muscular, 210 pound body. Several loads of cum shot with geyser-like force from his 12 incher into Anton’s beefy ass. Tomas smiled as he felt his pet shudder against his strong ten-pack and noticed the meager amount of watery cum dripping between his fingers. “I’m gonna make you the biggest man on this campus”, he whispered in his pet’s ear as he pulled him from his dick. “Get cleaned up and get some rest. I want you to track our little friends for a final ritual!”, Tomas said as he dried himself and strutted over to his bed. Anton sat down in the shower to clean himself; the strong muscles of his meaty legs were simply worn out. He slowly got up and stumbled over to his room to sleep. In the hospital Keith was waking next to father Luke’s bed. The surgery had taken several hours, but everything would be okay, according to the doctor. Anger filled Keith’s mind as he thought off Tomas. I’ll enjoy beating the crap out off him, he thought. A weak grunt caught his attention. “Uncle?”, he said. “K….K…..Keith? Is that you?”, Father Luke said weakly as he opened his eyes to stare at his nephew. “Yes, uncle. How do you feel?”, Keith replied. “I’ve been better. Guess I underestimated the situation”, Father Luke said, “I had the demon on his knees, but a muscular form suddenly stormed in and threw me out off the window.” “Must have been Anton”, Keith stated, “I should have entered with you to protect you.” “No, Keith. That hellish beast was bigger then you are and would have hurt you as well. I would have never forgiven myself that anything happened to you or your friend”, Father Luke continued, “We’ll have to call in more powerful help. That demon now knows of the Church’ presence and will be better prepared. I’ll contact the bishop to send over someone to protect you and your friend as long as I’m in here. Once I’m better, we’ll figure something out to defeat that demon. I would like to get some rest now.” “I’ll come back tomorrow, uncle”, Keith said as he left Father Luke and returned to Orchid University. Sean was putting his clothes on in the locker room as the door flew open. He jumped up and turned to the entrance to see a panicking Keith storm in. “Something wrong with your uncle?”, he asked as Keith rushed to him. “No, he’s fine. But I freaked out when I got back and you weren’t in our room. I thought Tomas had found you. I don’t want anything to happen to you”, Keith said as he embraced his friend. Sean’s cock hardened as he felt up his buddy’s muscular body. “I can defend myself, you know”, he replied, “I’m still 165 and have my wrestle moves to escape. You know you look cute when you’re worried?”. Keith smiled and looked around to see if they were alone. He gently pushed Sean with his back against a locker and pushed their lips together. Contradictory feelings once again spread in Sean’s mind. He’d had a few girlfriends over the past years before hooking up with Vicky. He’d always enjoyed having sex with girls, but nothing compared to the feelings he had when Keith kissed him. His cock jolted in his pants as he gave into his feelings, returning Keith’s kiss and exploring his muscular back with his hands. Keith moaned softly as he felt Sean return his kiss. His cock stiffened at the feeling of Sean’s rigid dick pressed between their athletic bodies. He put his hand underneath his buddy’s shirt to feel his diminished, yet still athletic muscles. “What’s wrong, buddy?”, he asked as he felt Sean’s arms go limp next to his body. Sean didn’t respond, but looked in horror at the other side of the locker room. Keith followed his buddy’s gaze and his eyes widened in fear as he stared at the large mirror at the entrance to the shower zone: Tomas’ face had appeared in it and was looking malevolently in their direction. “You boys didn’t think you could escape me, did you?”, the image in the mirror said, “There’s no place to hide from me! Woehahahaha!” A shiver went through Sean and Keith as the evil laugh echoed around the locker room. Keith released Sean and they moved slowly toward the exit. “You won’t escape! My pet will grab you and drag your asses to me for the completion of the final ritual!”, Tomas said. Suddenly, the image in the mirror changed and Anton’s muscular body appeared. “Seize them!” Sean and Keith looked at the mirror again as they closed in on the door. They froze as Anton stepped from the mirror and blocked their path to the door. “Run!”, Keith yelled as he pushed Sean away from the big figure chasing them. “To the wrestle hall! We can escape him there!”, Sean said as sprinted through the door leading to the wrestle hall. A loud thud made him look back: Anton had tackled Keith and they were fighting/rolling over the wrestle mats. “Keith!”, Sean yelled in fear. “Get yourself to safety!”, Keith yelled as he punched Anton in the face, knocking him over on the floor. “Let’s move”, he said but didn’t make it far as Anton rose back to his feet and tackled him again. “Run!” Tears filled Sean’s eyes as he left the wrestle hall on Keith’s command. Keith used his wrestling skills to outmaneuver his larger opponent. He kept looking at his opponent’s eyes, knowing very well that an inexperienced fighter always reveals his next attack. He used momentum to trip his opponent and made him fall to the floor. He easily dodged the bigger man’s wild attacks and avoided his grip. Rage filled Anton as Keith kept outmaneuvering his attacks. His chest heaved to keep up with his heavy breathing. Exhaustion began to spread across his muscular frame. Keith saw that his opponent was tiring and made his move. He jumped forward and pushed his meaty right shoulder into the larger man’s stomach, denting the eight-pack wall. He quickly rammed his left fist in the weakened abs. Anton grunted in pain as the air was driven out his body. He tightened his abs to withstand further blows. Keith wrapped his powerful 17.5 inch arms around his opponents midsection in a bear hug. He squeezed to force the bigger man into submission. He released his grip with a painful scream as Anton kneed him in the groin, sinking to the ground. Anton grabbed Keith’s hair in his left paw and lifted him the air, pounding his six-pack with his right fist. “Not so tough now, are we?”, he said as he kept hitting his opponent’s abs with his meaty fist. Keith had managed to tighten his abs to protect himself against the larger man’s blows, but he could feel his defenses beginning to falter. He tried tugging at Keith’s powerful paw grabbing his hair, but he couldn’t get a grip on it. He grunted painfully as Anton’s large fist broke through his defenses. Anton smiled as he felt his right paw busting through his opponent’s flexed stomach. He pulled back his arm and rammed it with all his force in the battered six-pack, forcing the air out off Keith as his meaty fist sank into his abs. “Who’s the man now?”, he asked as he wrapped his thick arms around his opponent. Keith’s vision began to go black as he felt his opponent’s muscular arms around his ribs. He inhaled deeply to maintain consciousness. He could feel his ribs reaching braking point as Anton tightened his arms further and drove his steely hard 19 inch biceps into his ribcage. A load shattering noise was the last thing he heard before he blacked out and slumped to the floor.