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Part 1 Working for a Living This one is for Londonboy and SS, who always inspire me.... I need money, same as the next man. Ain’t no different in that respect. And we all know there’s a lot of ways for a man to make some cash. And for men like me in particular some of those ways were honest, and some less so. Some within the bounds of the law, and some a little further afield. There was the possibility of takings from the competitions on the Circuit of course. A winner’s pot could be pretty good. But I’d only won one of those so far, and I hadn’t made nearly as much money as I thought I would. The people who really won and lost a fortune on the Circuit were those folks who gambled on the challenges, and the bookies. And I was an upset that had lost some people a lot of money. So I wasn’t that popular with those folks at the moment. They’d love me well enough when they saw more of what I could do though. One could also turn to selling sex, but that was beneath me. Although there are many other ways to prostitute yourself, and some were more enjoyable than others. When I was younger I’d assumed there were dozens of muscle loving billionaires just waiting to throw cash at me. Boy, was reality a wake up call. If such men existed, I’d never met them. And I was pretty sure that most guys like that weren’t actually into muscle. However, billionaires aside, there were still plenty of men with enough money who wanted an opportunity to worship my body...and pay handsomely for the privilege of watching these young muscles flex. I didn’t want to do it at first, but I’d needed the money. And as I became more well known on the Circuit, I started to receive more offers, with the assurances that more would be forthcoming. Now I’d kind of grown to like it, especially for the requests to demonstrate my strength. Muscle is nice, but muscle without power is just for pretty boys who want to look good. And I wasn’t one of those pathetic pussies, that’s for damn sure. College was likely to be out of the question. And I wasn’t joining the military. Men like me kept a low profile. And in return people wrote off the activities that we got up to. But even with lucrative offers to show off my abilities, and the occasional competition winning, I still needed money to pay the bills. My lifestyle did not come cheap. First there was the food. In one day I could eat enough to feed three superheavyweight bodybuilders in a week. That’s a lot of meat. A lot of carbs. And a lot of vegetables. Try having a food bill that comes to several thousand a week. Not pretty. And then there were the clothes. I was far too big to fit anything ready to wear off the rack. There just wasn’t a chance in hell. This was made worse by the fact that I had a tendency to go through my wardrobe awfully quickly. Plus I was still a growing boy. So even with a significant volume discount, my tailor was getting rich quick. I suppose I could have relied on the kindness of strangers. Been a kept man. Or used my muscle to help motivate money in my direction. But I wasn’t like that. A real man needed to support himself. And I was going to do that. To help make ends meet, my buddy Mack had hooked me up with a job in his security firm. Truth be told, Norman “Mack” McKenzie was more than a buddy to me. He was like an older brother. Actually, he was more like a father. A man I always had time for. Formerly a major in the British SAS, Mack was a Scot, and a cock-swinging commando that had been good enough to take a cocky, troubled young muscle head like me under his wing, and show him the ropes. I owed him a big debt. A serious debt. But that’s a story for another time. Mack’s firm represented all segments from politicos to underworld gangsters. As long as they paid well, and didn’t run afoul of Mack’s particular brand of ethics. So I knew when I took one of Mack’s jobs, that I would be able to respect the person I was protecting, and respect myself. One of Mack’s best clients was Myles Boudreau. He spoke like he was from one of the southern states, but I always found his accent a little hinkey. I suspected it was affected. He could have been from anywhere, but he’d adopted the persona of a southern gentleman. Mr. Boudreau was into trade. He obtained things for people. And took a cut for himself. More and more lately he’d taken to asking only for me. Even though I was only 18, and by all accounts inexperienced, and lacking the kind of specialist military training that Mack’s other operatives had. But I knew why he wanted me. I was a tank. And Mr. Boudreau had seen me in action. Since that incident, he’d never asked for anyone but me. And I looked every bit the part I knew was expected of me, as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was clean cut, and very well tailored. I tugged at the collar, feeling the fabric pull at my bull neck. The silk tie knotted tightly against my Adam’s apple. Mr. Boudreau had tailors fly in from all over the world. Usually direct from the designer. Over the months that we’d been working together, he’d had Hugo Boss, Armani and other names even I recognised make me some fine clothes. Trouble is I kept outgrowing them. Or inadvertantly destroying them. The suit I was wearing now was one such example. Since I’d been to The Snake Pit a few weeks ago, I found I’d grown some, and I was having trouble buttoning up the suit. It also felt unusually tight around the shoulders. Still Mr. Boudreau never complained. He wanted me to look a certain way, and I had no objection. My phone rang. I picked it up, and without even waiting for a hello, I heard my instructions. “Understood. On my way.” Mr. Boudreau stayed only in the finest of hotels, and I walked down the hall, well aware of how much space I took up, until I arrived at his door. I knocked. Kyle Palmer opened the door, an iPad in hand. “Come in.” This was Mr. Boudreau’s personal assistant. And I suspected he might also have been a lover too, given the fact that both men were gay. I walked into the suite. Even with the double doors, I had to turn slightly to avoid scrapping the doorframe and damaging my new suit. “So you had a Brazilian last night, and her boyfriend,” Kyle remarked. Kyle was referring to a little distraction I had found for myself off the clock. He was well informed. Very well informed indeed. I filed that away for future reference. It was obvious that information was Mr. Boudreau’s stock and trade, and Kyle was clearly a valuable asset. “Even I get lonely sometimes Mr. Palmer.” “I doubt that. And please call me Kyle.” My gaze was impassive. And like any good security specialist, I seldom smiled. This was business. Not pleasure. “I’m afraid I couldn’t do that sir.” “Are you ever off the clock?” “The Brazilian and her boyfriend should be able to answer that question.” “Touché!” he said, laughing. “Myles will be ready in a jiff.” I stood tall, waiting. I cut a very imposing figure indeed. And Kyle regarded me with open interest. He made no secret of what he wanted. It was written in his eyes. I suppose I could have fucked him. But I considered it unprofessional to fuck the boss, or his assistant. Kyle would just have to learn to live with disappointment. “Good, I see we’re all ready to go,” said Myles, looking absolutely immaculate. If my time was my own, and money wasn’t the issue, I wouldn’t have minded breaking Myles and forcing him down onto my cock. Rich or not, he was beautiful. Truly beautiful. I wasn’t bad looking either, I knew that. Most people remarked on how handsome I was. But I didn’t have the face of an angel like he did. A face that looked like it had been painted by a renaissance master. I would almost have broken my own rules for Myles. Almost. “This should be a simple job,” remarked Myles, as Kyle slipped an expensive cashmere coat on over Myles' suit jacket. “We’re going to acquire some product, and pay some money in exchange.” He indicated a case. And I picked it up. I assumed it was cash. But it wasn’t my place to ask questions. Mack had already gotten briefed, and he’d told me what I needed to know. We walked to the car. Parked in the garage. It was a BMW. Myles got in the back, and I climbed in behind the wheel, a bit unsuccessfully I might add, but finally squeezing in. It was hard for me to fit all my size inside such a tight confined space. “Don’t you ever get cold?” he asked me. It was a chilly day. “No,” I said. “I rarely ever get cold. I have a lot of natural body heat.” We drove off in silence. Myles usually didn’t attempt small talk, if anything he would be working – either on his phone or his iPad. I on the other hand was not paid to chit chat. So it worked. Soon we were at our destination. It was an old parking garage, three floors up of course. And I wondered if this could get any more cliché. Before we got out, Myles grabbed my thick shoulder from the rear. “These aren’t exactly trustworthy people,” he warned me. “Be prepared for anything.” “I always am sir.” He looked me in the eye from the reflection of the rear view mirror, and knew I spoke the truth. We got out, and soon another two cars pulled up. People began to get out of cars. A smaller, Asian man. An Asian lady. And four men that were obviously hired muscle. Presumably with guns. I carried a gun too, of course. But I rarely needed to draw my weapon. The biggest of the muscle looked me over. A big man, and thick. It was possible he could have been one of the guys from the Circuit, and I marked him for closer inspection. I was less impressed with the other three guys, as they were clearly military, but I doubted they had the balls to take me on. The big guy growled a warning low in the back of his throat, and flexed his shoulders and arms. I stifled the urge to laugh. If any more testosterone started flowing, I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t all start sniffing each other’s crotches like dogs. Well, maybe later, I thought. The big guy looked pretty good to me, and his trousers hugged his ass in a very pleasing manner. I wasn’t going to show him my interest though. Quite the opposite. Crossing my arms, I stood there, letting him see exactly what he was up against. And my arms strained the suit to breaking point. The Asian man said something to the woman. It could have been Chinese or Japanese, I wasn’t sure. But it sounded foreign and from the other side of the planet. “Do you have the money?” she asked. Clearly this woman was his translator. Myles had earlier taken the case from me, and indicated it in his hand. “Do you have the formula?” he responded. “Of course,” the woman told us, after a brief exchange with her employer. “But first we examine your American dollars.” “It’s all there,” said Myles. And he handed it to one of the men who approached him. We were a lopsided group. The six of them. The two of us. But I was fast in a fight, very fast. And I surveyed the movements of the others, prepared to jump into action. The guard took the case, and looked at the money. “It’s all here,” he said. Then the other guards all pulled out their guns in one smooth synchronous move. “What is this?” asked Myles. He didn’t seem as surprised as I was. Wasn’t this all supposed to be a casual, easy exchange? I had drawn my weapon anyway at the first sign of trouble, and moved closer to Myles. “This is the part where you find you’ve been double crossed,” said the man in heavily accented English. Apparently he learned languages very quickly, or the woman had been some kind of elaborate, and if I may say so, unnecessary ruse. “My client will be most upset not to acquire the formula he paid for,” remarked Myles. “Do you have it with you Fong?” “Of course,” replied Fong smugly. “But it is bound for the actual buyer. He was willing to pay more. Good bye Boudreau.” He and the woman and two of the guards got into a car, including the really big guy. The other two men got into the other car, but before they left, the guard took aim at Myles and fired. I ducked in the way, pushing Myles aside, and felt the sting of the bullet against my deltoid. The men raced away in their car. “Are you all right Mr. Boudreau?” I hollered, getting up, as the car tires screeched away. “Yes,” he breathed. “Don’t worry about me. Get that formula!” I leapt into action, ignoring the stinging sensation from my shoulder. The cars were currently on the third level, headed down. I ran to the edge and looked down to where an exit ramp opened down onto the next level. As I heard the cars approaching, I leapt down. Landing in a crouch in front of the oncoming car. I braced myself, and put my hands up as he raced straight at me. The car connected with my hands and I pushed. These were the same muscles that had lifted sixteen tons worth of hummer trucks up into the air, and they weren’t about to be stopped by a black Audi sedan. The driver realised that he’d stopped moving forward, and in a panic he floored the accelerator. Flooding the engine. I could feel the pressure of the car as it tried to move forward, and I applied a similar amount of pressure to keep it in place. Testosterone and adrenalin roared through my veins like a howling dragon. And I felt myself come alive with the challenge. I pushed again, and this time the car actually moved backwards. I took a step forward. Then another. A third and final step brought the rear bumper of the car into direct contact with the front bumper of the car carrying Mr. Fong, and the precious formula we’d spent so much for. Fong was trapped unless he could get past the car in front of him. And me. The power flowed into my veins, and they pumped the muscle up. I felt my strength flow like a wave. Muscle swelled, engorged with blood, and the back seam of my new suit ripped apart as my lats expanded with the pressure. I felt my neck straining, as the thick cords of sinew and meat pulled against the button of my shirt. Popping the buttons, and forcing the knot of my tie to loosen as well. The roar of the engine excited me. And the car carrying Fong rammed the car I was holding back, trying to force it forwards. Despite my best efforts, my shoes lost some traction with the smooth cement, and I could feel myself sliding backwards. The rubber from the ties stank, as they spun. And soon Fong’s car tires were spinning also. My cock swelled. Big, proud and magnificent. I couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to. It tore through my briefs and the zipper of my trousers and stuck out in front of me like a battering ram. I was so excited, that I pulled the car onto my cock. And I felt myself impale the grill of the car and the metal underneath. Hot and oily fluid spilled onto my cock, and clothes. And I started moving the car back and forth. The men inside finally realised they still had guns, and I felt them fire into me. The bullets stinging, as I roared my anger. My cock was momentarily forgotten as I began to tear the car apart. And seeing that the bullets hadn’t stopped me, the two men wisely gave up, got out of the car and started running. I let them run. Little pussies. They weren’t worth my time. I tore the car apart until it was in two halves. And then I picked them up and tossed the remains of the vehicle to the side. It didn’t weigh much more than some of those makeshift dumbbells had at the Snake. Fong’s driver now realised that perhaps he wasn’t going to get through me. So he wisely chose the only option available to him. Reverse! What he didn’t reckon on was me. Before he could go anywhere, I grabbed the front of the car and pulled it to me. If I’d had an insane pump before, it was beyond the pale now. My sleeves ripped apart as my biceps tore their way out, needing space. And I knew to Fong and the others that I must look like a white, even more jacked version of the Hulk, as my quads burst through the seams of my trousers and my traps and shoulders shredded the suit jacket. “Where. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Going?!” I growled, punctuating each word as I compressed the front of their car into a smaller and smaller heap of metal. The engine died, and then I slammed my fist into the hood, literally forcing it into the concrete floor, which cracked and accepted the intrusion I forced upon it. The people in the car tried to get out, but I stomped on the car for good measure which crushed the doors in. Leaning over it, I tore open the roof. The big guy had his gun out. But I grabbed it from his shaking hand and squeezed it, the metal crunching. Then I pulled the big guy out after that. My grip firm around his throat, holding him in the air, over the car. “I would like the case please, Mr. Fong,” I said. Sweat ran down my exposed pecs, stained with oil and grease from the engines. He handed me the case with Myles' money, which I tossed aside. “And the other one,” I said. When he hesitated, I rattled the car, rocking the floor beneath. The cracks in the concrete spread further. The woman handed me the case, and Fong scowled at her. I didn’t care, I pushed the roof of the car back down, trapping them, and I pushed it further down for good measure to make sure they didn’t escape. Myles came walking up to the car then. “Impressive,” he said, surveying the damage. “I will be giving Mr. McKenzie my highest compliments on your service.” “Thank you sir.” I handed him the case, and he gripped it like a treasured possession. “You seem to have torn your suit,” he remarked as an afterthought. Barely any of the suit was in fact still clinging to my body. “Sorry sir.” “Don’t worry about it. Are you all right?” There was genuine concern in his voice. “Yes, sir,” I said looking at him. “Thank you for your concern. But it will take more than some bullets to dent me sir.” He nodded. “Please keep the money as a bonus for your efforts.” “Thank you sir!” I said, genuinely pleased, and permitting myself a grin. “We have some time before we need to be back.” I raised my eyebrow in question, but it was clear what he meant when he indicated the man I still held in my hand suspended in the air. A man who was even now struggling to breath. “I’ll wait for you in the car. Take as long as you need.” Myles turned to leave, clutching the case. And I turned to the big man and smiled. Cock hard. Read the Next Part

At The Snake Pit I knew it was the right place when I saw the sign from the interstate. My windshield wipers beating against the window, allowing me to see out through the misty rain falling from the early spring sky. The neon of the sign was no longer working, but if you had eyes to see, you could just make out the name: The Snake Pit. A place of legend even amongst the circles in which I now moved. The building upon which the sign was affixed looked every bit as bad as the sign itself. Faded paint flaked off, a colour I think which may have once been white, leaving the underlying metal exposed. A mix of rust and weathered steel. But the general sense of dilapidation and abandonment was just an illusion. If you looked closely, you saw that the door was sturdy, and well affixed to its hinges. More a vault than a door, it was solid, thick black metal. Uninviting. It screamed go away. Take your troubles elsewhere. You don’t need this. And the sheer size of the building, gave a tantalising hint of what lay inside. For this was no small iron den, this was a converted warehouse on a large scale. This was a place that could give ordinary men nightmares. What little light was left in the dark, rainy sky was fading fast as I pulled into the parking lot. Only two vehicles could be seen. Parked somewhat haphazardly on the gravel drive. I caught the whiff of oil in the air, and saw that the cement and gravel was stained dark by many years of industrial usage. The two vehicles were both big trucks, the biggest money could buy, one well used, and the other a shiny expensive toy. Flames painted on the metallic red body of the newer one. It was more flash than what I was expecting to find. And I knew the sort of guy who drove a flash truck. I felt the rain hit my t-shirt, but I ignored it as I paused and took a breath. Even now, I was still excited. It was like coming home somehow. In a few brisk strides I was at the door, and as I opened it, I realised it truly was more a vault than a door. The first test of membership perhaps, and I found it to be heavier than expected, and quite thick. It would have served equally well for a prison cell. The light inside wasn’t bright, and the place wasn’t fancy. A desk was up ahead, and behind it was one of the biggest men I’d ever seen in my life. I was impressed by his size and obvious dedication. He clearly wasn’t in the game for money or fame, but for love. He loved what he did. And he loved lifting. I knew him by reputation of course, because at that size this had to be the infamous owner of the gym. His name was Zek. If he had a last name, I’d never heard it. A guy I’d met a few months back in Plano told me Zek once used to compete. But that was before he joined the dark side. Back when he was still…natural. If you could call it that. He’d not been seen on the usual bodybuilding or powerlifting circuit since then. He heard the door. Obviously. It squealed as I opened it with my outstretched palm. I saw him glance at me. He had a good poker face, but I saw his eyes widen almost imperceptibly as he watched me. He nodded. I nodded back. That was all that was required. I’ve always taken comfort in simple, male rituals. “How much for a workout Zek?” I asked him, “I’m just passing through and couldn’t help but stop by.” If he was surprised that I knew his name, he didn’t acknowledge it. I suspect there isn’t a lot that surprised Zek. And I think he knew I’d made this trip especially. It is after all why you go to so much trouble to build up the kind of reputation The Snake Pit had. He quoted me a figure, and I paid it without discussion. He handed me a towel. A very big towel. “Ain’t got no locker rooms,” he grunted, “Stow your stuff anywhere. Showers are in the back there.” “Thanks Zek.” “Welcome to the Snake!” I nodded and walked inside. I wasn’t disappointed. The cavernous space was filled with massive contraptions designed to help men test their strength. There was no equipment here that was mildly ordinary. And a glance to the side at the rack of dumbbells made it clear that none of them started below 150 pounds. In fact, there wasn’t anything less than a 100 pound plate around the place. I smiled. Then I heard him. He was shirtless and grunting, powering up two dumbbells. Except they weren’t dumbbells. They were hundred pound plates that had been welded onto barbells that had been made into makeshift dumbbells. These were incline bench presses. A quick calculation of the welded plates, and I estimated he was pressing 40 plates, 20 on each makeshift dumbbell. That meant those barbells were one ton each. And his form was pretty good. I gathered from watching him pump out the last few reps that they were kinda light for him in fact. I’d never seen anything like it in a gym, and I was actually more impressed than I thought I’d be. He squeezed a last rep, the two tons hanging over him momentarily, and I watched the mountain of his pecs rise into the air, like the Himalayas, and could see he had cleavage a Mr Olympia could fit his whole hand inside. Then he tossed those big fuckers on the floor, where they hit with a thud. I could hear the concrete floor groan under the weight, and he got up from the bench – which I could see was a custom contraption. Clearly reinforced both for the massive man standing up from it, and the weights he was muscling around so easily. He growled as he made a most muscular into the bank of mirrors in front of him. And after he was done admiring himself, he saw me in the reflection of the glass. Staring back with equal appraising frankness. His frame turned toward me. Like a massive wall turning. And he smirked at me. “You’re that kid,” he said. Sounding sure of who I was. I didn’t respond, but I threw my stuff into the corner, and stretched a bit, walking toward him. The damp shirt clung to me, but it was small anyway, and had always hugged my body closely. Sensing another male on display, he moved toward me also eager to stake his claim in this gym. His chest was very wide indeed, and his arms bent outwards, forced by the size of his lats. “Yeah,” he said, now convinced, “From the Circuit.” I arched an eyebrow at him. He was referring to an underground league of strongmen and bodybuilders that competed outside of the realms of the IFBB and the glossy magazines. Only a few knew of the Circuit. Very few indeed. And I’d only stumbled on it a short while ago myself. But clearly I’d made something of an impression judging from Zek’s composure, and the tone of this hulk’s words. “Heard you outlifted Karl the Bull,” he said, a laugh in his voice, “Beat him in deadlift, bench AND squat.” I grunted my acknowledgment. There wasn’t much point in getting wordy about it. “That’d be impressive, but I’ve been outlifting Karl since I was 22.” I gave him a deadpan expression, but I put some swagger into my strut, and my chest was huffed up a bit. “You as strong as Karl says?” By this time I was toe to toe with him, so close in fact that my pecs pressed against his. And then I moved closer, and this man – a man I knew didn’t get beaten – took an involuntary step back and hissed under his breath. “Stronger,” I told him, my voice deep and sure. “Didn’t take much to beat Karl.” “Yep,” he said, agreeing, trying to reassert some dominance. He pressed back against me, but I didn’t budge. He hadn’t seen me yet. Not really. I flexed. Ever so slightly, but the fabric of my shirt could be heard groaning. Ready to tear. And my shirt was custom made. They didn’t sell them this big. He was stopped dead in his tracks. Muscle he thought was invincible, being crushed against mine. It was the first time that he really looked at me. I mean LOOKED. And there was a lot to see. He was looking up for starters. And his body, while massive, was smaller than mine. “You said you beat him at 22?” “Yep.” “I’m only 18.” “No fucking way!” “Way,” I smiled. “Course I could’ve beat Karl when I was 16. Maybe 15.” He looked, but his mind hadn’t yet comprehended. “These the biggest they got?” I asked, indicating the two one ton dumbbells on the floor. “Yeah,” he grunted, “For dumbbells. But Zek’s getting some heavier ones made. They’re kinda light for me.” “Me too,” I said, picking them up, “Still, I can use them to get a pump.” I curled the first dumbbell and felt the satisfying weight in my fists. It had been a long time since I’d lifted a piece of gym equipment this heavy. I gave a grunt as I curled it. “Fuck!” he said beside me, watching me in the mirror, as I curled. One. Two. Three. It was so satisfying that I didn’t want to stop. And I felt the muscle in my arms warm with exertion, as I lifted one after the other in simple curls. The blood rushing to my muscle, feeding it. A pleasure that I recognised filled me. And even my cock, inadequately confined in the jock I wore below, trembled. Ninety-nine. One hundred. Now that was a set. Curling a ton in each hand, a hundred reps for each arm. I sighed with pleasure, and the fabric around my bicep frayed, the seam so carefully tailored began to split, one thread snapping at a time. But I didn’t wait. I shifted the position of the dumbbells and began an equal number of reps for hammer curls. For good measure I finished off one hundred reverse curls as well. And by that time I could feel the muscle taxed and burning, a deep pain like pleasure seared into the fibres that were tearing and expanding. “Fuck me!” whistled Zek from behind us, “I never thought I’d see the day when there was a man who’d make Jack here speechless.” “I have that effect on people.” “I bet you do son,” he said nodding sagely. I turned to the mirror and flexed my guns. The shirt didn’t have a hope in hell of containing those guns, pumped as they were, as it only barely contained them stone cold. And they tore through the already strained fabric like tissue paper. The bicep swelled, and Jack went slack jawed as the mounds rose higher, and higher. The bellies of the triceps meanwhile, relaxed, and lengthened, hanging thicker and heavier beneath, creating a massive globe of muscle. Jack came up to me and flexed his arm next to mine. His bicep rose with earth shattering force, but it was painfully obvious how inadequate it was. For the first time in his life, he’d been totally eclipsed. And not just by an inch, but by a mile. “What else you got?” I asked Zek. Then he showed me. On the far side of the gym was something I recognised as a bench press. Only Zek was more clever, he’d taken kegs and drums of various sizes and filled them up with cement. Made them for those guys for whom the plates weren’t heavy enough. There were options to choose from of course, but I suspected they’d all be too light. “Naw, son,” said Zek, observing my obvious disappointment. He led me on, with Jack following, “Those aren’t for you. I got something better.” There in the back, was a rig, and two hummers were suspended from it. They’d been filled with cement. They were attached to a machine for a chest press. “Sixteen tons,” said Zek. “Only a few guys ever been strong enough to use it.” “I bet little Jack here isn’t one of them.” Jack gave me a dark look. His chest pumped out with pride. But it was obvious that he couldn’t lift sixteen tons. Zek’s shake of the head confirmed my suspicions. “Give it a go man,” Jack snarled, “Unless you’re nothing but an inflated pussy.” I pushed him roughly aside. “The only pussy you better be talking about in connection with me, is the pussy that I’m gonna fuck!” I got beneath the machine, and grabbed the handles. I squeezed and heard the metal fight against me. Then I pressed. My chest swelled, as the muscle pumped up, and the hummers were lifted further up, and I contracted my chest, crunching the muscle at the highest part of the lift. The fabric split from the neck to my abs, tearing and shredding under the expansion of muscle. And I pumped harder, fighting the weight, feeling it. Getting used to it. Jack saw me struggle, and his eyes gleamed with hope. Sure that the most I could get was one rep. But then he saw my lips curl in determination, and he realised that I was enjoying this. A laugh escaped me as I brought the weight back down, a bead of sweat running down my forehead, and then I pumped it up again. And again. And again. “This is pussy weight man,” I told them both, each rep coming easier. My pecs were so full and thick, the striations rippling across the surface. Jack had a boner. And so did Zek. Powerful, alpha males turned on by the display in front of them. I pumped out two hundred reps this time. Just to prove to Jack, as if there was any doubt, that he was watching someone in another league entirely. I felt so strong and powerful, and it was like a drug. It was always like a drug. The testosterone raged in my balls, burning me, radiating warmth and sweat in my groin. I know the smell was overpowering. And I could even smell the stink in my own pits. Standing up after that set, the tatters of my shirt fell away, and I flexed for the boys. I flexed a most muscular as I had seen Jack flex earlier in the evening. But this wasn’t the same. This was entirely different. My muscle was etched in warm titanium. Thick, hard, dense muscle capable of crushing, lifting and overpowering any would-be challenger. I heard Jack moan, and Zek looked hungry. When my display of pure male power was finished, the echos of what they’d just seen were still resounding in their small brains. My cock strained the fabric. I felt it inflate. Thicken. Blood engorging it. I let my head fall back and I roared. The shorts I was wearing tore as the monstrous organ expanded. And even the elastic of the jock snapped, barely able to contain my bollocks, both large enough to put a bull to shame, and that massive dick. It was the final straw. I felt Zek before me, even before my head came back forward. I felt the wetness of his mouth on me. He couldn’t hope to swallow it, but he made every effort to please me. And I was losing rationale sense. The testosterone filled me. The primal male needs arose. I was awash with it. I picked up Zek like a rag doll. He was so small compared to me. But I felt his warm ass. It felt like home. And I bent him over the machine. And I tore away his training shorts and underwear, and then I impaled him. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned, “Fuck me. Fuck me.” And I obeyed. I gave him a thorough pounding. I felt the cum in my balls churning. I knew I was going to cum soon. But then I felt something press against my hole. Jack’s cock. It attempted to penetrate my virgin hole. But that was all he managed to do. He couldn’t do it. The attempt failed. My glutes, solid and massive, squeezed together, clamping on his cock. And I heard him whimper in pain, as I held him there. Cock trapped in the thick valley of my glutes. “Shit!” he whined. But his stimulation gave me what I needed to lose a torrent into Zek’s ass. I felt him fill, and I pulled out my cock still gushing cum, as it leaked out of Zek’s hole, and covered his back with my spray, coating him. I reached round and grabbed Jack, still hard, forcing him over the machine, and he hollered as he knew what was coming. “I don’t get fucked!” “Neither do I,” I said, laughing, “At least, as you’ve proved, there hasn’t been anyone man enough to succeed yet. So that must mean that you’re just a little bitch. And so I’m gonna fuck you.” He hollered right though his fucking, until he was a broken man. Changed. And put in his place. * * * I sated my need in the two men. And finished my workout. Before Jack left, he asked me hopefully, “How did you get so strong anyways?” “That’s my secret. A secret for real men.” He hung his head, cheeks beat red. Shamed. And no longer what he was. But then I was ready to go. Zek caught me after my shower. I was nearly naked, as I had no clothes left that would fit my pumped up body. He handed me a paper. “What’s this?” I wondered. “A guy I know. In the mountains. Likes to wrestle. Trust me. I think you and he will get along just swell.” “Thanks,” I replied, thoughtful. Trying to fully decipher Zek’s meaning. “And thanks for that fuck,” Zek added, “Not many men can fuck me.” “Well I’m not just any man.” Zek nodded. “Just remember son. There’s always someone out there bigger and stronger than you are.” I snorted as I went through the steel door to my truck, flexing my guns for emphasis, “We’ll see about that. We’ll see....” Read the Next Part

Part 7 My skin burned as I was wrapped in a never ending bath of muscle and hair that sent warmth through ever body part. I could imagine it all happening from a bird's eye view as I lay pinned by my giant dad. His arms were placed on either side of me and the wide bed, his biceps and triceps bulging on either side of the mattress as he lowered his body, battling his forearms for space. Every other second I wasn't rubbing up against a muscle, he would kiss a body part, sending electricity into me. "Fuck..." I hissed as my cock smacked into what had to be a very low ceiling of man. Like a running faucet, I could feel myself leak pre when Dad leaned into my ear and whispered to me. " I can't control it anymore" he growled into my ear as he continued his barrage of kisses and rubs. I gave in the moment I heard him say those words. I moved over his body uncontrollably, licking him in random and hot places that seemed to flex themselves from my touches. The tables slowly turned as dad began to lean back on the bed, causing it to sink as his weight was transferred into one place. The wood in the bed frame chipped as dad's now enlarged body sat on the back of his feet, his knees spread wide and his bulge in clear view, jumping every so often as if it wanted to grow but was waiting for something. I guessed quickly as I followed dad's 15 foot body to the other side of the bed. With a kind of desperation, I quickly kissed his legs, feeling the hard quads flex and bulge. Each one was potentially bigger than all of my 230 pound body put together and probably 10 times denser as they bulged with their three headed perfection. Quickly enough, I made it to dad's abs and I couldn't help licking the set of steel up and down with an eager tongue. It seemed almost as if his midsection was so big that it spread for miles vertically and horizontally. The apollo's belt of his wait was perfect in every way, pulling in all the enormity of such a man to one place. This was extremely futile and a sea of muscle welcomed me. Obliques the size of bars of soap awaited my arrival, each one looking extremely tight and fastened into the giant my dad was. At this point, I was standing as I tried to continue going up my dad. He was so tall standing up that, even on his knees, his torso raised him more than 7 feet tall, making him taller than me even as he sat. His amazing height was the last thing on my mind before I felt my head bump into what felt like the ceiling. I raised my attention up to the cause and my mouth began to water as I saw two of the most hulking, meaty pecs hover above me. Clearly, they were far from dad's rib cage but that wasn't the only amazing thing about them. Each one was spread far and in opposite directions, making it truly appear as if a wall of hairy muscle was spread before me. Each pec was capped with the most succulent nipple on each side that seemed to drop and appeared ready to be sucked and tortured by someone's mouth. For a few seconds, that someone was me as my tongue touched one nipple and licked around it. I was lost in the muscle as dad flexed two boulder biceps that looked so big, they could eat me and still have room for a the main course. Each bicep peak soared high as they were flexed, angry veins appearing on each as the muscle swelled with blood. I found myself grabbing hold of one of dad's massive arms and licking it with all my might. I could feel myself fire another small stream of jizz as I rode the bicep. This was potentially the most amazing moment of my life as I licked and licked all over my dad's upper body. Suddenly, an enormous vein grew on dad's arm and the muscle began to shake. My dad's skin turned red as though he had come from the beach and had experienced a terrible skin burn. "Fuck, not now..." he groaned as dad's flexing seemed to be unstoppable. Dad stood and I held on as the floor became very far away from me. I had no time to enjoy the view as I heard dad groan as if he were experiencing pleasure and pain at the same time. " It hurts!" he roared as his eyes seemed to be glaring off in space, their blue intensity piercing into all who dared look into them. I knew almost instantly Medusa would look into those eyes and be the one to turn to stone from such a powerful and manly stare. I felt cock fire a load as I looked into those eyes. Dad caught this and smiled a pained smile. " Don't tire out just yet, Squirt. It's only just getting to the good part" Dad roared as suddenly every muscle in his body flexed harder than I imagined were possible. Muscle and veins were decorated across the giant as though they believed they could make such a body more perfect with more blood. It was truly a scene that could make you fire a dozen loads just from standing in front of such an amazing sight. At first, I didn't catch it. It only came in very small intervals as my eyes trained on the muscle fibers of the bicep I was hugging. Still, I saw it as the muscle almost seemed to swell before me. I trained my eyes on it, unblinking before I saw the muscle jump again. I felt my cock painfully harden as I knew what was coming next. My dad was growing! I watched with amazement as the bicep I held seemed to puff up and make it harder for me to get a hold of such a big muscle. The muscles beneath me only seemed to become harder as I felt the undentable muscle seemed to push against me and press more powerfully into every body part. I watched as my dad's massive shoulders only seemed to get bigger and bigger in front of me as though they were being pumped with air. His neck seemed to thicken along with him and I looked on, dumbfounded, as I watched my dad's head also grow too, keeping up with the rest of him. In the beginning, I thought that there was no way the two massive pecs I'd licked could possibly get any bigger. Now, I knew that was a foolish thing to think as the two creatures jumped and then swelled outward, puffing out like a swelling loaf of bread that had been mixed with A LOT of yeast. I found myself to be a really infatuated pec man as I watched the two plates seemed to thicken and grow, becoming farther away from me as the swelling bicep I hugged grew longer as well as thicker, elongating the arm and amplifying what made dad's body so hot. I couldn't help but drool as my attention lowered to the rest of my enormous dad. His wall of perfect abs looked like you could swing a metal bat into it and you'd only send vibrations through the bat as it reacted to hitting such a hard wall. Each one appeared to be perfectly segmented on his body and divided among the rest in a perfect 8 pack. I could almost tell that all this brawn upstairs was causing dad's skin to thin itself out from so much being stuffed into it. The enormity of the situation truly set in as I saw the most massive bulge in a pair of weakening briefs. Clearly, dad had used these undergarments because they were one of his last fitting pairs. The manhood hiding inside appeared to be outgrowing its incredible shrinking prison. Two hairy cannonballs that had to be filled to the brim with cum were bulging out of the leg holes of the garment as the shaft of the giant seemed to push the briefs forward and cause them to strain in order to contain everything at once. I watched as a tear formed in the hem of the underwear, the muscle beneath clearly becoming too much for such a pathetic man made invention. Dad's ever growing cock quickly joined the fun as it began to harden and mix its growth with a pump of blood. My lips actually became dry as I watched the massive manhood grow at an unbelievable speed, Outgrowing the width of my chest and my height, quickly running past that and refusing to slow down as it began to attempt outgrowing Jeff. The shaft began to thicken as the extra stretchy briefs continued to tear. I could tell almost instantly that you could put furniture on that enormous weapon and you'd find no need to have to balance it. Simple place a sofa on the cock and it would have more than enough room to sit firmly. As the manhood was growing and reaching god proportions, I watched as two quads came into view on both sides, growing as if they were trying to still be seen behind the massive growing ball sack sitting on top of them. Each one appeared to be covered in veins as they held such a massive body up with their brawn. With ton after ton of muscle being piled onto them, they must have known they'd have to grow bigger and stronger to keep up with everything else. Each one looked as if it could withstand the weight of a building and still ask for more! The segmented heads in each one swelled, accentuating each individual part and making them all look even better as a group. I looked down further and caught his calves just in time to see each one grow a vein and harden remarkably. Who needed a football when you could use one of dad's calves. Of course, even then, you wouldn't be able to throw something so big and heavy in the first place as it appeared to be far past the size of my torso. I gasped at the size of dad's feet way way below. Even from here, I could tell that each one could have been close to being able to hide a big screen tv underneath even from my perch above. Yet they still continued to grow bigger. Just as I was nearly hypnotized by the lengthening feet down below, I was brought back to a cock worthy of a giant god. With a loud SSSNAP and POP, the longest and biggest cock of all time was set free from the feeble confines that had been holding it down. A massive hand wrapped around my torso and I was lifted up and off the bicep I was lying on before I was introduced to the largest, still growing cock there was. "Help.... me.....John" Dad said through pained groans as his body continued to swell. I could tell that he was pain and that, somehow, his cock being hard was the cause of some of it. Of course, I still grabbed hold for much more selfish reasons. With the biggest man-bush to rest on, I got to work on the giant member before me. It's length far surpassed me as it seemed to be trying to stretch into the sky. For a moment, I could tell it had reached 8 feet in height but then it grew past that. Just eye balling, I could tell that it was beyond 9 feet in length and potentially 6 feet thick. It was like hugging a walrus! I was forced to use the bush and rod base beneath me as footing as I stood on the giant's crotch in an attempt to better wield Dad's weapon. "Fuck....." I heard someone above me say as I continued to rub the pole up and down with my body. I could feel it tighten as it swelled, clearly now at full erection and quickly reaching climax. Clear liquid was leaking from the high tip and falling like an erotic river down to the floor, creating a kind of puddle. I was too busy rubbing the god weapon to appreciate what was happening around me. The floor was creaking as it tried to contain all of the mass that was filling into its occupant. The bed had long been broken and was now too tiny to be stood upon by dad's large body. His legs were too big and too long! Now, each one stood on opposite sides of the bed like a married couple. "FUCK!!!" Dad roared as his head punched the ceiling and his growing cock began to leak like an open faucet. I was hot as I rubbed back and forth on the giant like the cock slave I knew I was. I was hypnotized by the size and power surrounding me that seemed to just get become more and more of those qualities I was growing to love. "I CANT HOLD IT ANY LONGER!!!" Dad roared with his deep and powerful voice. Like an oversized fire hose pumped by a faucet, dad's cock instantly thickened dramatically as it prepared to fire the biggest load of all time. Plaster fell from the ceiling as dad's ever expansive body just seemed to press harder and harder into it, his big head full of hair now matted against the vertical limit. "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!" Dad roared as his cock shook with power and fired what had to be the biggest load of all time. White, thick liquid flew everywhere in a single direction like the perfect hose. The now cracked ceiling and floors now had matching walls as the room was slowly painted in white. Dad bellowed like a lion ruling his kingdom as he fired off endlessly, his growth seeming to accelerate as it all happened. " IT"S GETTING TOO STROOOOOONG!!!" he cried as he tried grab a hold of the uncontrollable weapon. For a moment, I was surrounded by so much growing muscle and cock that I took advantage of it to fire more cum without touching my cock. Just like the night before, my cock fire was nothing compared to the cock cannon I stood on. Cum filled the room at an incredible speed, quickly covering dad's feet and slowly raised past his ankles. The room was slowly sinking in a never ending cum sea that came straight from the most powerful cock on the planet. Still dad grew and grew, his big and full lats now pressing into the ceiling. I could tell he was in pain but the smile on his face was just amazingly hot, making my now spent cock sore. " SO FUCKING BIIIIG!" he roared as he let his cock go and raised his hands to the ceiling, his massive arms flexing with everyone movement. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by pecs and biceps and a cock that were all so big I could almost see myself getting crushed between it all. Just when I thought the sex would never end, it all came to an abrupt stop. The room had been painted white just like dad's room and was now so full that, if I were to stand in it, my black body hair and skin would be bleached white from the neck down with thick, steaming cum. Dad stopped growing just as his upper back was pushed against the ceiling and his cock head was now defiantly in his face, still hard as steel and rigid as a telephone pole. I looked up at his face and he just smiled down at me with glowing eyes. " Is it alright for me to say I've gotten too big for my britches?" he asked with an even more powerful voice than before that seemed to make me leak pre just from its sound. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dad and I had trouble escaping the room as neither of us could get out without either drowning or tearing down a wall. Eventually, we decided tearing down a wall was much better than me drowning myself and getting Jeff for help. If only the NFL could have seen dad as he charged through the wall to my room like the perfect line back given super human strength and size by the gods. I had trouble finding clothes afterwards since they were all submerged in a pool of cum so I was given one of Jeff's smallest pairs of clothes. Of course, seeing as his smallest clothes were made for an 8 foot muscle giant, I had to wear them the same way one would wear covers. It was hot, against my better judgment, and I wanted it to continue but eventually, we found an old pair of clothes that belonged to Jeff before he went through his super growth spurt. It was pretty tight but it was originally made for someone who hadn't even broke the 200 pound mark. Dad said he needed some good eating so he and Jeff decided to go chow down on everything in the enormous kitchen that they could find (although a 25 foot giant is hard to feed and hard to bring around). Feeling like I needed to collect my thoughts, I asked dad if I could get a ride to a local bar but he was still stuffing himself with hundreds of pounds of meat that seemed to be endlessly piled yet still potentially not enough for someone so massive. Seeing that Dad was out of it, Jeff decided to give me the keys to his car and shooed me off. The car itself was actually really big. Coming from me, a guy who was 6'3 and a line backer, that was definitely really big. It took me only a short few minutes to find my way to the bar since I remembered where everything was but I still walked in unsurely as I parked. I stopped outside as I saw the most enormous motorcycle on its side beside the entrance. It looked bigger than the motorcycle I saw in Harry Potter. I dared to wonder whether or not it was a real bike but I kept moving anyway. When I entered the bar, I stopped in my tracks. Sitting right at the center of the many stools was the widest back and ass in the tightest leather pants I'd ever seen. Every big and burly muscle was amplified to the Holy Shit degree. I had trouble hiding a boner that had jumped up almost like lightning in my pants as I quickly ran next to him and sat in the stool beside him. I looked down and could see that his stool was struggling to hold him as it creaked from every flex his ass made on top of it. Each foot was wearing a giant boot big enough for me to put a leg into. His long legs were spread wide to the point his left leg was nearly on my chest. A muscle gut you could hide multiple bodies in was lying in front of the giant, pushing into the bar and making it also creak in protest. Pecs that pushed far and powerfully from the man's rib cage were pushed forward and look like they were just begging for someone to dare them to tear the white t shirt beneath and the leather jacket to shreds. Big arms that seemed to be far bigger than every muscle I could possibly have pushed taut against the leather jacket the man wore. High above, I could make out a shoulder so large and powerful looking, you could use it to shield yourself against bullets and be unharmed from head to toe. His hair appeared ashen gray and seemed as if it was in a hairstyle that was clearly made to stick straight up while still short and was doing a good job of staying that way. The man looked down at me through a mean looking pair of sun glasses and I could see over his massive torso that he owned a really manly and thick goatee. I could almost feel his eyes concentrating on me for only an instant before the bartender came over with a tall and wide beer mug that looked like you could eat cereal from it. He looked down at it and picked it up with a massive hand, the handle still too small for all his fingers to hold it. As if he were lifting a coffee mug, he lifted the drink and gulped it down in seconds, his massive adam's apple bouncing with each swallow. He slammed it down on the bar, making a big dent in the wood and cracking the mug, before he turned his stool to me. His long and thick legs surrounding me on both sides as he leaned down and looked into me, his upper body bulging and looking as if it would explode from the shirt and jacket. " Hey there, short stack" he said down to me in a voice that made me quiver. I came right in my pants and he could tell instantly. I went red as I tried to pretend it didn't happen. He hadn't stopped looking at me and took off his glasses. A pair of strong, electric blue eyes looked at me and seemed to be looking into my soul. I lost all attention as I looked into those eyes. " Hey.........sir" I said, trying to show respect for the big man as he looked down at me. When it seemed I would explode from the tension, the big man smiled and then laughed a big and hearty laugh that I felt in the deepest part of my being. " Don't call me sir, Shorty!" he said in the middle of his laughter. When he finally stopped cracking up, he looked back down at me with a smile. " Call me James" he said. I took this as a command as I sat in my chair feebly. A massive and heavy hand touched my shoulder and I looked up at the giant. " Is that anyway to talk to your big 'ol grandad?!" he said before laughing again. I was speechless.

Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1556-my-dad-is-a-big-boy-re-post/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1560-my-dads-boy-is-a-big-boy/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1569-my-dads-boy-is-a-man/ 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 4 I was dumbfounded as the ground left from beneath me. My 19 year old "little" brother was carrying me like a 6 year old out of my room, the back of my head hitting the threshold as he ducked to get through. I kicked my legs in protest but my 8 foot tall brother's muscles were tightly fastened to me. The thick and bulging muscle beneath me was a lot for me to take in up close as it moved and bounced with every movement my colossal brother made. The veined, tight, and blood pumped muscle refused to quit as it pushed against me and held me in place like steel. I looked down and was greeted to the large expanse of my brother's back and what looked like two perky and powerful glutes straining the tight clothing my he wore. I felt a boner start to form in my pants but it's strength was overwhelmingly eclipsed by the power in my brother's left pectoral. I became nervous as I felt the warmth and heat of my brother fill my body by contact. It was as if I was surrounded by the most erotic sex machine of all time. Right as I felt my cock strain to keep itself in check, I was saved by the sudden smell of breakfast food. "Smells like dad is making breakfast this morning" my giant brother said as he began to descend the stairs, his big footfalls creating a heavy noise that shook me. As we came down the stairs, I felt something like an earthquake move my midsection so much that it caused my own stomach to hurt. " Sorry, Jacky" Jeff apologized as he rubbed his big, 8 pack stomach. " I haven't eaten all morning yet and it's starting to piss off my stomach" he said we passed one of the many rooms leading toward the kitchen. Right then, I had no clue what I was in for as we entered the enormous room. As we passed the door of the kitchen, I was greeted to an even more powerful smell than the food that seemed to put the other smells into a corner and remain dominant in the entirety of the space. Jeff set me down and then stood back up to his full height, looking down at me before grabbing my shoulders with his big hands and twisting me around. My vision was suddenly overfilled with what looked like a bulging wall of muscle and hair that was clad in nothing but a weakening pair of boxer briefs. A big, tight, and round pair of glutes was bulging towards me like two creatures. These went up and connected with a wide back that was like a mountain range from my perspective. The muscles bulged and moved like tectonic plates over the tall portrait of man. "Your son is here, Pop" Jeff said reassuringly. " And this time, he's 100% awake." Suddenly, the big collection of muscles stopped moving for a moment as if they were unsure what to do but that was quickly changed as they shook with what I could only assume was excitement. Suddenly, the big wall turned like its own personal wind machine, sending a gust of wind past me with the turn of an enormous forearm, and my vision was overfilled with an enormous bulge in a pair of pale-red boxer briefs that had no chance of concealing such a large manhood that threatened to burst out and hit me in the face like an erotic boxing glove prank. A pair of thick and heavy balls appeared to bounce between the two thick legs. I gasped as my vision tried to grasp the giant that stood before. If Jeff was huge at 8 feet tall, this monster had to have been at least 12 or 13 feet. When I could finally move my vision, I could see muscles that were beyond belief covering this astounding form. Thighs with thick and veined muscle teamed with cables of veins and big, full muscle that had to be at a full pump. Each one appeared to be bigger than my waist size and attempting to catch up to my chest. Below that, there were two powerful and overwhelming calf muscles that both shared angry veins covering muscle that looked harder than any marble statue you found in a museum. Just when I almost got distracted by a pair of enormous feet that looked like they could stomp out a forest fire, I saw muscles above me twitch. When I pulled my vision upward, I was given the privilege to view the most beautiful 8 pack the world could have ever seen. It appeared to be sculpted out of pure marble as the tanned muscle seemed too proud to hide anything with fat. Of course, it was far thicker than my chest could hope to be and was testing the boundaries of a roid gut, it still was the most beautiful form of muscle I'd ever laid my eyes on. The highest point of the abdomen was hidden in a cave of shadows as two expanding and contracting air bags hovered over them. In my view, it almost looked like two boulders covered in hair that spread out and were capped by two bulging, protruding nipples. I almost got distracted by them as they seemed to take charge of my vision but then I realized that everyone I looked at covered my vision. The man before was so large, his lats were easily revealed as his biceps, which both looked bigger than my torso, were so large that they seemed to make the giant even bigger than he was (which I believe was really hard to do). Though I licked my lips as I watched the two biceps and forearms bulged outward, both clearly bigger than any bicep I could try to flex, I was surprised as one of the hypnotizing biceps reached out and a hand wider than my face grabbed my shoulder and pulled me in, my face colliding with the giant's bulge. " COME GIVE YOUR BIG OL' DAD A HUG, SQUIRT!" a deep and powerful voice roared as I was smothered in the most crotch I'd ever seen in one place. I could feel it as my face was pressed against what had to be the thickest cock I'd ever seen. Being in my college team, I'd seen cocks small and large in a locker room. I'd even caught a guy who was 9 inches flaccid. But never had I seen something so massive and masculine as the giant cock that looked like it went on forever before reaching its hairy base. The only think I could hope to compare it to was a barrel but even that comparison couldn't describe how long and thick it was in its flaccid form. The smell of 99% Testosterone, 1% Man filled my lungs and caused my cock to form the most noticeable tent I'd ever made. I could feel the enormous rod in my dad's pants bounce suddenly and nudged me in the nose and mouth like a friendly animal. I felt myself swooning before I was pulled away from the godly man beast hiding in my father's tight and straining underwear. My eyes hurt as I watched so much mass move around me suddenly. My dad was now trying to crouch so that he could look at me face to face. As his legs spread further and further apart, his balls began to press harder on the lowest section of his boxer briefs and his cock pushed even more forward. My eyes never left it as I watched inhuman bulge press harder and harder into the fabric the lower my giant of a father tried to crouch. Just as he had come to face to face with me, I could hear a POP and a menacing SNAP that told me that there was a huge gash in the bottom of those big red boxers. I could feel my cock leak pre as I imagined it in my head but I had no time to moan as my dad's eyes came into view from over his big and powerful chest. Even crouched down to look at me, my dad was looking at me from almost an equal footing, causing my frustrated cock to push harder into the fabric of my big white shorts. Luckily there were an extremely loose fit so I wasn't sure whether or not my dad's pronounced blue eyes could see it but I couldn't care less as they connected with me and I was lost in them forever. The face before me was my father's broad, angular face. His jaw was pronounced and covered in a big, black beard that tried to hide the most perfect lips one could bear witness to. I wanted to press my own lips to those beauties but my attention slowly came back to my dad's deep and manly brow, his bushy eye brows almost making his blue eyes even brighter and more seductive. I was pretty much out of my mind as I tried to concentrate on one beautiful feature and failed, moving back to another one and wanting to rub face against it. " How's my little squirt" said a deep voice coming from my father's lips. I almost couldn't speak as I opened my mouth. " Hey..... dad" I said. My dad's eyes lit up as he heard me say it and his arms tensed, his grasp on me stinging a little bit. " I hope your hungry, squirt. I fixed up extra breakfast just so we all had enough" he said, nudging his head in the direction of the table. I turned to the dining table and I thought my eyes would fall out of my head. I had been so distracted by my massive family, I hadn't paid attention to my surroundings at all. The kitchen was much bigger than I thought, It's legs reaching up and matching my height. I could only guess that the table was at least 6 feet high with enough room under it to hide a sofa. The chairs themselves appeared to be at my chest in height and looked like I couldn't dream of moving them myself. It was like I'd entered the home of a giant. Even at the table's height, I could see large piles of food stacked high on it's expanse. Lots of meat and other things were decorated across it. Eggs, bacon, ham, chicken, burgers, scrambled eggs, french toast, turkeys, and even link sausages; each one making its own sizzling noise as they all were piping hot from being cooked recently. I couldn't believe that there was so much food on one table but there it was, spread out before me and standing tall like it was made for a king. "Why don't you two go ahead and start digging in. I'll be right behind you" he said and turned around to get back to cooking atop the stove, which looked to be taller than I was. " Great!" Jeff said as he stomped over the kitchen floor with his bare feet before he sat down in his chair like it was plainly sized, the wood straining and cracking at so much weight being placed on top of it. I went in behind my brother and struggled onto my chair, feeling like I was 3 years old all over again as I marveled at the mountain range of food that went across the table. Loud noises could be heard as Jeff, already gorging himself, had dug his way into an enormous plate of sausage links. I'd never seen anyone on my football team eat like the man across the table. It was like watching a bear eat except the bear was twice as big as your average forest animal. Occasionally, Jeff would take a big, meaty arm and wipe it across the thick beard he was growing. A shadow grew behind me as a large collection of eggs seemed to fall from the sky. " You not hungry, squirt?" came my dad's thick voice. I looked up and he was smiling down at me with the most handsome, fatherly smile and I felt myself beginning to melt. In a panic, I shook my head and began to start eating as well. Right there, I remembered how much I missed my dad's cooking as I felt the many spices and flavors move over my tongue and then exit to my stomach. Right as dad was about to sit down at the head of the chair, the doorbell rang. " Must be the doc" he said as he stood and left the room. I looked over to Jeff. "Doc?" I said through a semi full mouth. Jeff's attention never left his plate. " It's just a man who checks up on dad once in a little while. You know, to make sure his heart is alright and junk" he confirmed." It's not everyday you're 50 years old, 12 feet tall, 9 feet wide, and don't have a grey hair in sight." I looked back at my plate in worry but ignored my worries, jabbing a sausage link with a fork and scrambled eggs with my spoon. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was 11 o clock at night in the mansion when I woke up from my sleep. After breakfast, Dad had told Jeff to give me a ride around the city in order to get comfortable with my hometown again. Without argument, Jeff quickly went into the mansion garage and drove up to the front of the house in an extra large yellow hummer that looked brand new. I never thought I'd see him in such a flashy vehicle but I'd also never seen someone fill such a large vehicle from top to bottom. When Jeff drove, his head was pressed firmly on the roof and his seat was pushed back so far, I couldn't see it past his large body unless I turned my head all the way to the back of the car. Also, he was so wide, his big arm almost spilled into my side of the car. Every time he needed both arms to turn the wheel on a deep turn, I'd watch as his arm would tense, lift itself up, and then bulge as he made a circular motion over the wheel. That went on for hours before we finally came back home at 9 o' clock. I was so exhausted, I'd gone straight to bed and hit the bed sheets like a rock, my body welcoming the soft embrace of the feathery pillows and silk sheets. Now, at 11:01 pm, I sat up in bed with a startled expression. In my sleep, I knew I heard someone screaming. At first, I thought it was just a dream but then I heard something in the distance. I quickly jumped out of bed wearing my new, more form fitted pajamas and tiptoed to my room's door. I pulled the door open slowly and peeked out, only spotting darkness. Very slowly, I moved to the drawer set by door and opened it, pulling out a flashlight that illuminated a pathway into the darkness. I skillfully moved over the many different forms of clothing on the floor while listening to the sound from far away. Like a cat, I moved down the stairs to the front room, my brow sweating as I tried to fight off the fear. The sound I'd heard had gotten so strong that I knew for certain that it wasn't the sound of weights being moved. It was the sound of a beast. Not just any beast; a large one. A beast so large that his roar shook the house. I tiptoed to the center platform of the stairs and new instantly where the roaring was coming from. The big iron door up at the top of the opposite side of the stairs. I held my breath as I moved carefully and quietly to the door. I moved the flashlight over the dark metal to find a large knob above my head, at least 7 feet from the ground. With my resourceful mind, I carefully set my flashlight down and, with a spring in my step, I jumped to grab the knob, my feet quickly setting them selves against the opposite door to give me a quick burst of force. With difficulty, the heavy door slowly but surely moved forward and a crack big enough to let a 230 pound linebacker opened up for me. When I landed on the ground, I picked up my flash light and turned it off in fear of being discovered by whatever was on the opposite side. The stairway heading up was just like the one leading up to Jeff's rooms. I pressed my hands against the walls to guide up and only turned on my flashlight occasionally to keep from being found out. For a moment, I felt like I was the invisible spy, unable to be found or spotted by any evil villain that wanted to take over the world. A powerful roar defied this thought, the power of its sound waves causing even me to have shaking bones. I quickly turned my light out as I had reluctantly made it to a door with moon light leaking out of it. At first, I feared for my life as I closed in on the ominous door way, the roars now so powerful that my ears began to sting from the force. I pressed myself against the very tall, possibly 30 foot door and, with care, took a peek with one eye into it, bearing witness to a sight that I dare say I cannot describe. In the room, there was nothing of importance that stood out or looked useful except a large window at the opposite wall and a bed. This bed was no ordinary bed as it looked like a pack of seals could sleep on it and it wouldn't bend in any way. What had left me speechless, however, wasn't the size of the bed but what was on it. At the center of the bed, there lie an enormous giant that I recognized. Dad. In the light, I could make out Jeff as he looked like he was trying to wipe a wet rag over my dad as if he were trying to fill him with water. Suddenly, a terrifying roar erupted from my big dad, his hanging arms and legs on the ends of the bed jumping as he seemed to be in immense pain. Jeff was knocked back as dad's muscles seemed to bulge from his straining. As quickly as it had come, the roar stopped and dad fell back on the bed, Jeff resuming his attempts at wiping him down with water. What was going on, I wondered as I tried to grasp what was happening. Just as I thought it was all over, Jeff began to speak. " Dad, calm down. The doctor said that if you strain yourself too much, the medicine will go down your bloodstream too fast" he said in a strangely weak voice for such a large man. Medicine, I wondered, what medicine? Without warning, dad grabbed Jeff and pulled him in, my hindered view making it difficult for me to see what they were doing over my dad's large chest. Then, something I thought a son was never supposed to see happened right in front of me. An erection, strong as a rock and big as a telephone pole, formed at dad's crotch. At first, it only appeared to uncurl itself from the drop between two tree trunk thighs but then it began to grow. At first, it started at the size of a telephone pole. But as time went on, that telephone pole would swell like an air balloon, bulging a good few inches bigger before taking a moment to start again. Never could something so big come from any man on earth. In my mind, I knew that the only thing that could conjure something so massive was a god. Already the enormous totem pole began to block the light of the moon and still it grew. I could only assume that, from its distance away from me, the enormous god weapon had to have been longer than I was tall and twice the size of my chest but still growing. I felt a hotness as my pants began to fill with my own erection, it's red, steel-hard head pushing through the waistband and shining with a stream of pre-cum. I began to feel the an overwhelming heat leave my loins and fill the rest of me as my eyes concentrated on the pillar of manliness inside the room. The shadow of my father's powerful tool now hid the moon from me and stood proudly like a flag pole, seeming to have found an appropriate size to rest at. At this point, I'd felt as though I'd entered an extremely erotic dream but it still didn't change the fact that I was turned on by my father's monument to man. Suddenly, dad began to sit up and pulled Jeff in, their faces too dark for me to see them but distinct enough for me to tell that they were experiencing a deep sensual kiss in the dead of the night. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My dad and my brother were having sex!

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.

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.

(Author's note: Important background of lust filled muscle worship (and who Grant really is) is in Parts 1 - 4 at the Bee Keeper's site under "msclvr". I wanted to help inaugurate this new site with Parts 5 and 6 of this story...plenty of "sizzle" in these two parts. Angel: A Sequel – Part V By [email protected] Introductions All Around (Things Start to Heat Up) Reluctantly, I ditched fantasizing about Grant and all the would-be muscle-heads in the gym so I could focus on driving and parking. Jeez, Grant is such a distraction for me. I’ve got a constant hard-on. And, we’re partners. Clearly, though we have not known each other a day, we’re also in love. We’re in love because he has been watching and listening to me since the day I was born and knows me to my core – especially my addiction to muscle-gods and muscle-worshipping. I still don’t get all that. It’s complicated spiritual stuff. I made a mental note to ask him to tell me more about all this when we were back home lying in each other’s arms. I parked in the gym’s lot. It was filled with big trucks, big bikes, and SUVs. God, there has be a lot of muscle in that gym tonight with all that kind of equipment out here. My fantasies got retriggered and I started to imagine some feats of strength that Grant could do that would just blow these guys away. “Yep, sounds like a plan, Paul. I think I ought to restrain myself from showing my unlimited strength. Otherwise, they’ll just get paranoid and fearful. A lot of musclemen are a very insecure bunch. If I give ‘em just a little super-strength muscle-god show, I bet they’ll be fascinated, lusty, and want more. That I’m more than willing to do,” said Grant confidently. It always startles me that he is always reading my mind. I couldn’t believe how graceful Grant was in heaving his mammoth body through the small car door. His muscle control is unbelievable. His beautiful muscular glutes were on display through his skin tight shorts. Unlike other muscle gods, he had a pair of muscle-packed glutes that were perfectly proportioned to rest of his inhuman sized body – no big bubble butt necessary— yet he has a very narrow waist. He came around to my side of the car, got up real close to me, grabbed my hand and gave it a tight squeeze. We were looking into each other’s eyes as he did that. I, of course, was looking up, way up. My anxieties, which had been building up again, were gone. We knew we could trust each other in these unchartered waters of a bodybuilding gym. We knew we had each other’s backs. At least I knew he had mine. I had no idea how I could have his massive truly barn-door back. I would soon find out. I felt so small as I stood next to him in this very public place. This was quite different from being next to him in my house. Grant opened the door for me and I walked in first trying to feel secure and confident. I instantly noticed that the place seemed to reek of sweat. And God knows what else. That was a definite turn-on. I could feel Grant right behind me as I turned to the right and stared into the face of one very big, yet short, older power-lifting type of guy. On his tight sport shirt and above his right protruding pec nipple, it said “Manager.” He started to introduce himself to me, put his hairy hand out to shake mine, and then he just stopped dead in his tracks. He was looking up, way up, at Grant. I knew he was in shock. I went ahead and said, “Hi, I’m Paul and this is Grant. We’re looking for a place to train.” While I said this, I watched his eyes darting and racing – and his head moving -- all over every inch of Grant’s height, width, mass, and good looks. “Shit, man,” as he looked up at Grant, “You are the biggest and most built guy I have ever seen and, believe me, I’ve seen a lot. You sure as hell don’t look like you need to work out, either. Where have you competed? Haven’t seen you anywhere on the internet, either,” he asked bluntly and without apology. No hand-shake or “Nice to meet you, Paul,” from him, yet. He was too stunned and “sizing-up” Grant, if that’s really possible. Needless to say, Grant was not the least bit intimidated. I knew he was gonna enjoy this visit. “What’s your name?” Grant asked politely, and with his deep bass voice. “Oh, ‘cuse my manners. I’m Gus and I own and manage this place,” he said matter-of-factly. “Well, Gus, my partner here, Paul and I, have lived out in southern Idaho at least for most of my life. I’ve had to run a pretty big family farm since my parents died years ago.” Grant continued. “So I have never had any time to travel, let alone compete. I just wanted to get as big as I could and built a gym with some big weights and equipment. Been workin’ out for a long time. Great genetics from my parents. Paul helps with the housekeeping and book-keeping. And, when he feels like it, may work out with me. We decided to sell the farm and move to a big city, and that brought us here. Actually, I’m thinkin’ I’d make a pretty damn good personal trainer for folks that want to lift or compete themselves.” Grant was so easy and casual and so sincere in telling this story. His killer smile and mysterious “presence” or natural energy, already had Gus mesmerized. All the while, his height and massive build had him tower over Gus. I noticed quite a twinkle or glow in Grant’s eyes as he spoke. He must be turning that on just for moments like this. Just after he spoke and before Gus could say a word, Grant did a very masculine and virility-laden move by bringing his huge arms around in front of him and folding them on top of his naturally protruding chest. God, he was so sexy. This showed off the fantastic width of his shoulders, his bulging delts, and his massive biceps and triceps. All of it covered in veins and striations. I, of course, couldn’t miss taking another gander at his big package jammed inside his very tight shorts. Gus had already noticed it, too. Other than his eyes, Gus hadn’t moved a muscle except for asking his questions. And, just during this brief “checkin’ you out” chat, all the movement in the gym had also ground to a halt. I looked around quickly and saw at least eight guys staring at Grant. Some had put down their weights and looked up and just stared. They were all very big and muscular guys. Some short and a couple of really tall monsters. Some were lifters and more then a few looked like they were in competitive shape. And, god, they were all wearing damn near nothing over their chests and package/glute areas. I’d never seen a gym where guys could flaunt their huge and sexy bodies like this. We couldn’t have picked a more perfect time and place. “Well, Grant, you and your partner here would be welcome as members. And, I’m always in the need for built personal trainers who can inspire the other members – especially those that want to compete. You could do that in spades, for sure. We can talk about that later but let me show the two of you around the gym, first.” Gus was getting friendlier very quickly. It was a tour Gus had probably given hundreds of times. But the difference this time was that Gus was “parading” muscle-god Grant around, making sure he got up close to all the equipment and close to the guys that were trying to work out. They were very distracted by the enormity of Grant’s presence, his very tight jersey and shorts, and his very friendly smile. Gus said any number of times that Grant might become a personal trainer at the gym. It was awesome to watch the mix of reactions to that possibility. Some guys had a big smile on their face. Others, pulled away while trying keeping an eye on Grant. Some introduced themselves, often holding the handshake way too long, and having a hard time not taking too much time to check him out. Grant was just as friendly as he could be. He made it a point to compliment a couple of guys on parts of their physiques. Their faces lit up like Christmas trees with compliments from this very tall and extremely well-built, sexy, and very handsome hyper-masculine male. A couple of guys were bold enough to ask Grant about some of his measurements. Of course, he had never been measured. He and I both knew that. Not missing a beat, he just told them that he’d like some help from them later in getting his measurements up-to-date. They were so transparent with how “weak in the knees” they got over that possibility…and these were already pretty damn big and built guys, themselves. As the three of us made the rounds of the equipment, the guys looked like they were getting back to their reps but, in fact, they were just pretending, as best I could see. They could not take their eyes off of Grant. Gus was realizing he had just been given a marketing bonanza for his gym and was getting very enthusiastic about telling us how dedicated the members were. He explained how members had won many competitions over the years. Pictures were all over the otherwise dreary walls. The bathroom and showers were not very big. They were clean, however. One really big and cut guy dropped his little towel – in shock -- the moment he saw Grant come in. He was so dumb-struck, that he didn’t care that his pretty good-sized semi-hard cock and balls were there for all to see. Grant apologized for the interruption with a big knowing smile on his face. The guy damn near fell all over himself to introduce himself, naked, to Grant, and shake his hand. Like the others, Grant has this amazing way of connecting at the soul level with people, especially guys. And they respond in kind. It is amazing to be part of that dance of lust and excitement. Outside the showers, Gus motioned Grant aside. The two of them talked about something and Gus got all excited. Grant looked at me and gave me a wink. Gus went the front desk and clicked on the overhead speaker. “Hey guys, I have a special treat for you. Grant has agreed to stay here for a while and do some poses for us, and some feats of strength. Unless someone has an objection, I’m going to bring the shades down, put a closed sign on the doors and lock them.” “I’ve got some hootch in my office and we can have ourselves a little private muscleman party here with Grant and his partner. Any objections?” he asked confidently. None. In fact, a big round of applause rang through the building. These guys were way more into power, strength, and muscle than I could have ever imagined. While Gus did all the arrangements, Grant came over and asked if I was okay with what they were planning to do. I told him I was thrilled to be with him doing whatever, especially with a bunch of other big muscle-head studs. We both grinned at each other. I could tell we also mutually and silently agreed this was not yet the place to kiss each other. A few of the guys starting coming up to Grant right away to ask him questions about training. They were, to a man, a little startled that he had never competed. One even said he looked like a morph from the internet. Yet, his story seemed to reassure them, as if they needed any more reassurance given his massive, bulging, and vascular presence. They just couldn’t stop looking at him, his muscles and his eyes. He had them completely in his “grip”. The Party Really Gets Started One of the biggest and most impressive guys asked Grant to give them a double-bi. With his trademark sexy grin, he stepped back, took in a deep breath, which pushed his astonishing pecs out even more, and slammed both his arms up into exploding mountains of muscle, tendons, veins, and twitching muscle fibers. We all watched his very tight jersey strain in a futile attempt to keep his muscles contained. Once again, the gym came to a dead stop. Not since we arrived had any of them taken their eyes of off their new idol and hero. “Whad’ya think guys? Big enough for you or should I make them bigger,” Grant asked in his sexy bass voice. “Shit man, give it all to us. Show us what you got. Pump those monsters,” hollered one big muscled enthusiast. It was nothing for Grant to not only add to the pump and size of each monstrous arm, but he also started the trade mark muscle-dancing technique of flexing and rotating his hands and fingers. God, his forearms and arms were covered in networks of veins, thick and small. His body fat was so low that his muscle fibers shown through the slightly shaded skin. His ballooning traps and delts were equally enormous. His very dramatic V-shape was breath-taking. Then Grant said, in his deep booming voice, something I’d never thought I’d hear from him. “I make big strong muscle men like you cum in their briefs when they get to feel up these muscles of mine,” he said proudly. “Who’s gonna be the first victim? Or, better yet, the first winner to touch me?” Grant challenged them. He knew that, as a group, they were really into muscles, in more ways than one. Holy shit. God only knows where this is going. The same “enthusiast” stepped forward, with a mixture of apparent profound lust and excitement. Grant looked down at him, pumped his arms even more, creating double peaks on his biceps, with a thick vein running down the length of each arm. “Go ahead, guy, feel the hardness and cock-exploding size of these babies. Yeah, you will never get even your big hands around my whole arm. Yeah, all you can do is just try to squeeze them.” “They don’t budge, ever. Of course, they’re warm. Yeah, man, trace those veins…they feed these monster muscles 24/7. Do the other side. Looks like you’ve got some experience appreciating muscle-gods like me. That iron bar in your shorts is a dead give away. I take that as quite a compliment,” Grant proudly announced. I was seeing a part of Grant I had only got a glimpse of back at my place. I remember him telling me that he knows who he is and what he can do by having watched all of my muscle-worshipping fantasies over the years. God, its like being a muscle-god with these guys is second-nature to him. He knows what other musclemen, bodybuilders, and power-lifters really want. “Holy mother of god, man, you are unbelievable. Oh, shit, here it comes. How…do you do that…to me? Ohhhh….god…fuck…..yeah….yeah….fuck it almost hurts….and to feel your hard and massive arm at the same time….oh yeah….one more…..one more….that was great. I’ve never met any man with arms like that and god knows I’ve been building my own arms for years. Fuck. You are something else. It’s almost like you’re not human…” He had no idea how accurate he was. He stepped back and pulled his tight shorts out and down and stuck his hand down into his package and rearranged what must have been one cum-soaked bulge. Grant was soaking it in as the guy was soaking in the warmth of his own cum. And I was watching Grant’s package start to grow and change shape. I’d have given anything to be alone with him at that moment and worship his beautiful big basket. I wonder if any of the other guys saw him change shape like that. “Heck, guys, we’re just getting started,” Grant said enthusiastically. Gus had come over and, to my surprise, joined in mauling Grant’s arms with his own big hairy arms and hands. Grant shook out his arms and we watched all the muscles shift, swing, and jiggle back and forth. Then he slammed into another double-bi pose. “Grant, man, I don’t know how you did it, but you’ve done it big time. We’ve never seen arms like this around here, never,” Gus said appreciatively. “Hell, we’ve never seen a man built like you, either. Not even close.” A couple of guys had started taking pictures with their cell-phones and were as giddy as little girls -- comparing the pictures on their cell phones to the real thing six feet away. I also noticed almost all of them taking time to re-arrange their own packages – no apologies – no embarrassment. Just turned-on testosterone-driven half-naked musclemen getting off on one of their own. This private party had lots of possibilities. My cock had been hard since we entered the place and I was beginning to ache from it. Damn, Grant was in his element and he clearly loved being worshipped as an extraordinarily hyper-masculine muscle-god by other muscle men. And, I was so proud to be his partner. “Okay, guys, let’s give Grant some room to pose here in the middle of the floor. Step back and give him some space. Drinks are over on the cabinet. Help yourself,” barked Gus. After getting some drinks, they all gathered standing around in a semi-circle. I thought of kindergarten kids and how they gather around their teacher. Some of these guys were really built and sexy as hell. I chatted them up a bit and, being a courteous fellow, I asked them if I could feel their biceps. Boy, what a treat. Grant had really inspired these guys. While they couldn’t hold a candle to him in the size and vascularity department, they had some really massive guns and appreciated an enthusiastic admirer like me. They tried to get in front of each other in their own enthusiasm to show me what they had. I guess being Grant’s partner gave me special privileges. Fuck, my hands were all over these guys. I had no idea I had so much muscle-talk in me. They each got a shit load of compliments and appreciative groans from me. And I got handfuls of hard muscle. Some of their forearms were to die for. For those, I tried to wrap both of my hands around the forearms, but I usually came up short. I liked pumping the forearms with both hands like I was pumping a cock – two-handed. They seemed to really like that. One really muscular, hairy, and massive short guy grabbed at my own hard cock, looked me straight in the eye, and said I could have him anytime. I almost lost it. Damn, I was in seventh heaven. And The Show Continues Grant’s amazing and highly unusual height (I’d guessed earlier in the day he was around 6’8”), combined with his inhuman (if they only knew the real story) mountains of muscle all over his damn near fat free skin, made him stand out like a very big marbled Greek God statue right in the middle of the gym. His skin tight jersey and extremely short shorts showed off his stunning v-taper, a rarity for a muscle god of his size. His traps, even when relaxed, were beyond comparison to any mortal muscle-god. When we weren’t looking and lusting after his incredibly sexy bulging package, we were speechless at the unheard-of size of his quads, sets of huge tear-drops, and all the other muscles and crevices that compose legs defying description. His calves were equally explosive and he wasn’t even flexing any of this. I started to imagine what he could do in a tug-of-war with a tank. Yet, again, because of his exceptional height, he might look like a morph of the internet, but he was totally and completely proportionate – head to toe. I know that added immeasurably to his sex appeal to me, and certainly to these men who really know how appreciate a spectacular man like this. He stood at the front of the semi-circle. The lighting at that part of the gym was actually pretty good and helped show off all of his deeply chiseled features to very good advantage. His fat-free and slightly tanned skin made him look oiled and ready to take any contest he wanted to enter. Since he knows me so well, he knows I go bat shit when muscle-gods go into a Superman pose, jutting out their arms and putting their hands on their waist. He read my mind, of course. God, I can’t tell the difference between love and lust any more. Certainly not with him. And he still had his jersey and shorts on! Wait till they see him in his bulging black jock-strap – just barely holding all of him in and the straps stretched to their limit. Much to my surprise, the guys gave him a spontaneous round of enthusiastic applause – just for standing there like that in the Superman pose. The applause was even peppered with a few whistles of admiration. He just grinned and told us in his booming voice that he was glad to be appreciated so much. What a hell of a fucking understatement that was. These guys were lusting, drooling, and restless to see all of him. They were not going to be disappointed. Cell phone cameras were clicking away big time. “Hey men, I’d like a volunteer to come pull down my tight jersey sleeve off my delts and onto my biceps and triceps. I think you might want to see me pump up again and burst out of these tight sleeves. I’m feeling like I want to be unconstrained,” he said teasingly. Another round of applause and cat-calls. One of the very tall and built guys came up to the center right up close to Grant. They smiled at each other. They guy moved in, intentionally, close enough to push his own damn big protruding basket up into Grant’s even bigger basket. “Yeah, man, let’s feel that big bulging muscle package of yours’,” said Grant in a voice dripping with sex. “Shove it into me…right up into mine….let me feel that thick big hard-on you’re carrying,” he added. Very quietly the muscleman said “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want you so bad. I’ve never wanted a man more than I want you, Grant. I want to be like you. I want to be in you,” he said passionately. “You play your cards right and get along with my partner, Paul, we might get a three-some or something going,” Grant said equally quietly. With that, the tall man reached up and around Grant’s unflexed right arm and struggled and pulled the jersey sleeve down onto his bicep and tricep. While he did that, he took advantage and copped a long feel of Grant’s amazing warm mass of veined muscles. Not taking his eyes of Grant’s seducing eyes, he moved over and did the same with the left sleeve…massaging up and around the tricep and bicep before he pulled the jersey down. “Oh god, thank you,” the man said. “The pleasure is mine, too, man. I like to know when I can make a difference in men’s lives. Ask Paul. He’ll tell you all about what it’s like to be with me,” Grant said very nonchalantly. As a parting jesture, Grant jammed his basket down onto the tall guy’s basket. Talk about alpha male domination. Grant was really getting’ into this. The guy stepped back into the semi-circle visibly shaken --- yet with a smile on his face. His left hand went into his shorts and he rearranged his basket, with his hard-cock now jutting up toward his left hip. I would have given anything to go over to him and give my trade-mark basket massage and chew on his bulge in his tight shorts. “I’m gonna explode one sleeve at a time so you guys will have a couple of chances to see the real thing – not some fantasy. I’d suggest you come in closer. For those of you with videos in your camera, you can get as close as you want,” instructed Grant. My god, the instant jostling for positions around his arms was amazing. These guys were unabashedly thrilled to be around Grant and be so close to having a one-of-a-kind muscle-god shred sleeves with a flex. Sleeves Destroyed Keeping his left arm in the Superman position, Grant raised his right and smiled, and took in a couple of breaths. I actually think he does that just for effect. He started a pump that quickly equaled what he had done moments ago. “Go man, go.” “Bust that mother-fucking sleeve.” “Yeah, pump it…pump it harder.” “Do it, man, do it.” To a man, they seemed breathless with anticipation. Grant pumped harder and the crevices and veins became even more pronounced. With the appearance of the second peak on his bicep muscle, the jersey had reached its limit. With a couple of more grunts, the jersey sleeve split wide open at the peak. “Holy shit, holy shit.” “Damn, look at that.” “Fuck, man, that is amazing,” They were astounded at seeing this first-hand. Grant kept pumping and the sleeve actually began to shred even more. God, it was so damned sexy. “Got those pictures you wanted?” asked Grant with well-justified pride. Some guys were just hootin’ and hollerin’. And some were just dumb-founded…with their mouths and eyes wide open, and their hands giving their packages some hard massages. “Here, get this shot,” Grant instructed again. He easily leaned over, gave his bicep a long kiss, and then started licking it. The cameras were going nuts. Then he did something I’ve only read about. He moved his forearm and hand onto his bicep and started massaging the entire top of the bicep muscle with his big thick hairy fingers. His forearm muscles, cords and veins were jumping all over the place. Holy fuck, I’d never thought that would be really possible. But there he is. The guys were going almost delirious over all this muscle. When they weren’t clapping and whistling, they continued rubbing their hard cocks, some digging deep into their shorts and jock-straps. What a scene. Grant, surrounded by all these geeked muscleheads, turning a posing routine into a muscle-sex show. Jeez, he had really been reading my fantasies over the years, not missing a thing. Gus was part of this, clearly relishing Grant’s inspirational god-like presence in the gym. With Grant still holding the incredible flex, one guy went behind him, grabbed pieces of the jersey in both hands, and held them up and off the massive arm so guys could take more pictures. I never knew a bicep could have so many veins and crevices. I knew I was going to make sure we got some of these pictures for ourselves. “Ready for round two?” Grant said slyly. “Bring it on.” “Pump that fucker.” “Yeah, do it again.” They were really fired up. Grant dropped the right arm, placing his hand on his hip as part of the Superman pose. “Who wants to put their hands around my arm and feel the sleeve as I shred it into little strips?” he asked seductively. Shit, I’ve never seen so many big guys move so fast. One of the taller guys won out and positioned himself behind Grant. Grant lifted his arm. The guy tugged at that sleeve edge to make sure it was still over the huge unflexed bicep. Both men knew they were posing for pictures. Grant, looking lovingly at his monster left arm, took in a few breaths. The guy made sure his hands were wrapped around the bicep as much as possible, which really wasn’t very possible at all. With more shouts of encouragement, Grant started very methodical pumps and the whole arm began to expand. This time it is was slow. God, it was like an act of sex, like doing a slow fuck. Grant was one hell of a showman. The muscle-heads jostled around each other for a closer look. The guy with his hands around Grant’s bicep had a big grin on his face. And, boom. The edge of the sleeve started splitting. There was too much noise to hear it rip. Grant kept splitting the sleeve up toward the rest of the bicep. The guy looked in awe as his hands felt the shredding actually happen under his hands. Cell phones were still snapping away. Grant, looking at the guy holding his bicep and the torn sleeve, asked him, “I bet you’re really glad you’re here today, aren’t you?” “Fuck, I never thought I’d feel something like this. You are one awesome dude, awesome,” he added very appreciatively. There was another round of applause and whistles. Grant dropped his arm and extended both arms and shook them out. The shredded sleeves, up to his striated delts, and hanging loose over his biceps, were grist for more picture-taking by these new-found muscle-god worshippers and Grant’s new personal fan-club. I was transfixed. It is such turn on to watch all these musclemen get absolutely head-over-heels with Grant. Grant just has a way, with his eyes and his other-than-human-energy glow, of deeply touching the longings and desires of these guys. I had not expected such a reaction from them – or any group of men for that matter. We were in taboo territory for a lot of body-builders and power-lifters, or so I had thought. Yet these guys, damn near to a man, including old Gus, were breaking those taboos left and right, without apologies or any self-consciousness. They loved what Grant is, what he stood for, and what he is able to do with his muscles. They loved his good looks. They loved that he paid attention to them and teased them, even though they were all big guys in their own right. Sure, the drinks had loosened them up. Yet, they were more than willing to “cross the line” and worship Grant for his hyper-masculine sexuality. Hell, they saw it in themselves, and what they wanted from other muscleheads. You would have thought they’d all been given lust-inducing drugs, judging by their kid-like excitement and man-like muscle lust. I had to remind myself that this was really for real…that I was not inventing Grant and these guys in my head…or writing a fiction story about our encounters for the gay readership on the internet. Grant was real and we had very quickly developed a very special relationship that even my dreams had not anticipated. I was feeling very grateful, in addition to being consumed with lust like the rest of them. Next Round All of a sudden some hollering started and before I knew it they were all screaming to Grant to “take it off,” “take it off,” “take it off.” Grant stood there in his Superman pose, just looking around at each of them, in the eye, and letting the roar build. These guys weren’t holding anything back. They wanted him to take the rest of his tight jersey off. And, I’m sure they wanted him to take off his shorts and jock-strap off, too. They wanted to see him pose in all his muscular naked glory. I’m sure they wanted to see his big hard cock, too. Grant just smiled his big toothy grin. He knew what they wanted. I could tell. I knew he was ready to give it all to them…all of it…no holds barred. After all, the doors were locked and the shades were down. And, as a group, they had all bonded around having Grant among them. Nobody was going to interrupt this lust-filled feasting on muscle and all of them were ready for whatever happened. I’ve never seen more men rub their cocks and crotches at the same time. Each of them was in their own private world of muscle, intensely focusing on Grant, their personal muscle-god, in the flesh, and what he could offer them. “Well, since you ask, I think I’m ready to get rid of this mangled jersey. Maybe when we get together next time, I’ll do a full lat and back spread and split the back of the shirt. Or, with a side chest pose, split the shirt down my pec cleavage. I bet you’d all get off on that. Somebody could take the ripped sweat-filled cloth home as a souvenir and jack-off with it. I like to know my skimpy clothes are used as cum-rags,” he said calmly. They were hanging on his every word. “Today, let’s get down to business quicker. I need another volunteer to help pull this jersey up and off me. Who wants to be the lucky volunteer?” Again, there was a mad scramble to get in front of him and be picked for the honor. They were like kids, but very big kids. “What’s your name?” and Grant pointed to a fairly young man, medium height, with a very well muscled physique. He was drop dead gorgeous, too. “Stan, sir,” he said shyly. “OK Stan, you’re my man,” announced Grant. The rest of the guys stepped back into the semi-circle but the circle had gotten much closer to Grant than it was when we started. Stan was nervous as he stepped in front of the god-like behemoth. Grant dwarfed him in every way. “Where do you want to start, Stan? I’m in your hands, so to speak,” Grant inquired, with a good laugh. Without saying a word, Stan stepped closer and gently put his hands on either side of Grant’s very narrow waist. He held them there, just feeling the power and heat coming off of Grant. Then he slowly moved them up and grabbed either side of the jersey. It was tight even at its bottom – giving quite a preview of Grant’s ab muscles, extremely defined obliques, and everything else. Some of the guys had stepped around to the side to take more pictures. “Whaddya’ think Stan. Like what you see? Like what you feel? Can you smell my man scent yet? Ever been so close to someone like me before?” Grant fired these questions off fast. Stan didn’t know what to say. “I guess the answer is “yes”, right Stan?” Grant was drilling down – in a friendly way -- on pronouncing Stan’s name slowly and frequently…knowing that that would get Stan even more excited. Stan began lifting the shirt up. Grant’s abs, which had just barely been hidden before, began to show. Even though I’d seen Grant nude earlier in my home, his abs were just incredible. Eight thick horizontal plates, surrounded by deep crevices. Muscle fibers and striations were everywhere. A few bulging veins started out in the middle plates and went down into his crotch. His light dusting of dark hair added to an indefinable aura of intense male sexuality and power. It was actually pretty easy for Stan to get the jersey this far. Grant’s enormous jutting pecs were another story. “Here, let me help you, Stan.” With that, Grant lifted his huge arms and placed them on Stan’s shoulders. That gave Stan some much needed leverage to wrestle the jersey up and over Grant’s thrusting pec shelf. Stan seemed to start shaking. He was surrounded by huge muscles. There was dead silence in the gym. All the guys were intensely focused on this evolving muscle revealing display. Stan took a small step back and began pulling the jersey over Grant’s pecs. He struggled. It was a very tight fit. He pulled, one side, than the other. Grant’s head started to get covered by what was left of the jersey as more of his abs and lower chest were revealed in all their massive and cut glory. With one more step back, Stan had the leverage to put all of his own not insubstantial strength into a final pull that literally popped the jersey off of Grant’s delts and arms. He stood there, almost like he was in shock, holding the flimsy jersey in his hands and just looking at up at Grant’s now exposed upper body. There was another round of applause. Grant shook himself out again…causing all of his upper body muscles to shift back and forth in waves of muscled and veined slabs of warm flesh. Stan, still in awe, stepped back into the circle, clutching his reward. “Hey, Stan, thanks for the help. I hope you enjoy yourself tonight,” Grant announced. He added a wink just for good measure. It was cool to watch the guys pat this young stud on his broad back as if he had run a marathon or set a new weight-lifting record. Now, down to just his bulging shorts and jock-strap, Grant began a series of poses that triggered yet another round of applause. This time it was non-stop applause. They couldn’t get enough of Grant’s massive and cut musculature. Grant’s light chest hair just added to his lust-inspiring masculinity. Veins and muscle fibers were evident everywhere. First, it was another double-bi that, once again, flabbergasted these already big turned-on musclemen. Then he artfully moved into a side chest pose that not only accented his amazing shoulders and arms, but showed us what a really huge pec shelf he had…especially flexed. His nipples were absolutely beautiful. The size of silver dollars. Pointed down because of his pec mass. Little tiny nubs surrounding each areola and nipples the size of large thimbles. All of this was encircled by a light covering of chest hair. His leg poses, along with the side-chest pose, just blew minds. The huge strips of muscle, split by crevasses, created a leg width and thickness unheard of among even the most built super-heavyweight bodybuilders, beyond even the most massive powerlifters. He pumped his side chest of couple of times just to make sure we weren’t missing anything. I was sure somebody was gonna yank out their cock and pump themselves right there. The applause wasn’t stopping and neither was Grant. He faced the circle and gave us a truly shocking combination of hands behind his head, upper body and abdominals flex, with an extension flex of his huge right leg. Veins, large and small, criss-crossed, the mountains of hard muscle. Shocking in the sense that he exuded extraordinary power and muscle definition. He looked like he was going to crush his head with his biceps. His etched obliques and abs shifted back and forth as he moved his body from side to side – at the same time shifting his leg position so that the massive muscles, tendons, and veins were just exploding underneath his fat-free skin. His huge basket – in the center of all this mass of muscle -- commanded our eyes to make it center of attention. God knows it had my attention. Fuck, I was going to have to blow a load here pretty damn quickly. The next pose was something else entirely. He went down into a most muscular crab stance and then pumped his muscles repeatedly until it looked like he was going to explode out of his skin. His already massive traps now came into even more prominence. Beautiful mounds of strips of muscle and striations sweeping down from the top of his thick corded neck down to his striated upper deltoids. The guys were whistling and hollering with complete abandon. He, all of him, was theirs. And they were his. We were at a new level of passion for muscles and the physique of a true god. He held this most muscular crab pose, pumped it some more, and pivoted all around the semi-circle so each guy could get a complete eye-full of candy and take pictures that they’ll jack-off to for years. For them, for me, he was the ultimate fulfillment, ultimate embodiment, of muscle, sex appeal, and masculine power. And we hadn’t even yet seen some amazing feats of strength by this gift of masculine manhood –this god of men. Getting Down to Business The powerful momentum from this start of his posing routine was only exceeded by the sexual energy surrounding us. Grant knew that, and announced that he would take another volunteer to help him take his shorts off. Another scramble. This time he picked an older guy, a little on the short side but covered in thick masses of muscle and body hair. He was clearly one very powerful lifter who, you would think, would never be intimidated by any man. However, Grant was proving to be the exception. Once again, guys stepped back into a circle, even smaller than the last time. They wanted to be up close, real close. This fire-plug of a muscleman stood in front of Grant and, much to everyone’s surprise, began exploring Grant’s pecs slowly, very slowly. Without saying a word, Grant flexed them – bouncing them up and down, rolling them from the top of the pec to the bottom of the pec and back again, and then left and right. It truly was one hell of a sex act. The guy punched them a few times. No give. “So, I bet you are one hell of a strong guy. You certainly have the mass. What’s your name?” asked Grant, like he was always interviewing worshippers. “I’m Tom,” he said. “You are one of a very few men who have ever got me turned on like this. I’ve been around. I’ve been mostly worshipped -- not the worshipper. You, however, trigger something deep in me. And, boy, am I ever glad I’m here,” Tom said with a sense of gratitude. A lot of guys were nodding in agreement. “Yep, you like a lot of other guys here, are having trouble keeping your hard cocks in your pants. Right?” Grant observed. “Fuck, yes,” retorted Tom. “You damn well know the amazing power you have,” he added with an edge. “OK,” said Grant, “Let’s take a look at the center of that power and you can help me uncover it. You game? After all we men, especially those of us who work to build ourselves up big and strong, need to let others know what this center really means to us,” explained Grant. With that, Tom, surprised us all by getting down on his knees so his face was just below Grant’s package. Grant is just that tall. The room went silent waiting to see what Tom would do next. His big arms and hairy hands moved up to the straining button that was holding the tight shorts on Grant’s narrow waist. He unbuttoned the button and the shorts pulled off to either side exposing either side of the partially zipped zipper. “Holy fuckin’ mother of god,” Tom muttered loud enough for all of us to hear. In a very slow and intentional way, he brought the zipper down. As he did this, the shorts pulled even further apart exposing Grant’s pristine black jock strap that we had bought in the sporting goods store a few hours earlier. Grant’s massive bulge was now thrusting way out away from his shorts, surrounded by the unzipped sides that opened into muscle-sex heaven. The blackness of his huge pouch and straps added even more an aura to him – he truly was visually addicting. And these guys and I were truly addicted. “Alright, Tom, now that you got the preliminaries over with, why don’t you reach around and try to pulling these shorts down off these legs – these columns of marble?” Grant said suggestively. Instead, Tom, probably due to his own experiences of being worshipped, wrapped his hairy arms around Grant’s waist and pulled his face up into the bulging black jock-strap. Cheers and whistles erupted again. It was pretty clear that Tom had a major basket fetish, too. Using his arms around Grant’s waist, he did his best to muscle Grant into his face, and push himself into Grant’s package…a package that thrust way out into the room, straining the pouch and the straps. We could see his head moving all over Grant’s basket. We all knew he was chewing on and licking Grant with a passion. Tom’s huge flexing back muscles were a sign of how much muscle and pressure he was exerting to feel this mother-load of Grant’s sex. This went on for a minute or two while all of us watched in lustful envy. Then Tom leaned back and began pulling down the high cut bottom of each leg’s covering. Even with his very thick arm muscles, it was a struggle for Tom to get each moving down Grant’s unflexed quads. The massiveness of Grant’s quads were, like the rest of him, unequalled. Meanwhile, Grant was maintaining his Superman pose, along with a very satisfied smile on his handsome face. Slowly the jock straps covering Grant’s tight glutes appeared. Finally, Tom was able to pull down enough fabric so that Grant’s whole jock-strap package was exposed. Grant sported a sexy black patch of hair, very seductively peeking up and over the top of the jock cup. Grant stepped out of both legs as Tom pulled the shorts away. “And you can take those home with you, too, Tom,” said Grant graciously. “Hell, never, never, have I been this close to so much muscle and so much bulge in a package. Being this close to you, standing there in your black jock-strap, is a muscle worshipper’s dream come true. You are one hell of a spectacular man, my friend,” said Tom, once again, appreciatively. “Glad you like it, Tom. You certainly know how to make me feel good. Loved your face grinding into my package, especially when you tried to force me into your face,” exclaimed Grant. “You are a very strong man and I bet you are really good at helping guys live out their muscle-worshipping fantasies,” he added. “Nothing like you, Grant, nothing like you. You are the man,” added Tom somewhat breathlessly. Almost Exposed After Tom stepped back into the semi circle that now resembled a close huddle, Grant gave us the gift of a few more mind-boggling poses. He spun around and pumped himself into back double-bi. He was so cut, wide, and so massive – all from a totally new angle. A few guys were close enough and took the big step of feeling up Grant’s mountains of back arm muscles -- layers upon layers of cut muscle. He grunted his welcome of the feel of their hands. He shifted into a back flex that was an amazing display of the proverbial Christmas tree and what looked like that famous bag of squirming eels that muscle-worshippers have been writing about for years. More hands began exploring the muscles and cuts in his stunning back. Then he moved into a back lat spread that showed his inhuman size. The enormous width of his back was, once again, a testimony to the unlimited muscular power he possesses. The guys couldn’t get enough of his back and kept urging him on to push it even bigger. He easily obliged them. Their hands went everywhere – down the spinal column, around to the sides, down to his amazingly small waist, and up around his huge traps. “Man, you guys sure know how to make me really feel welcomed,” reported Grant. “I think you’ll like how I’ll train you. But now we’ve got one more piece of unfinished business. My cock has been so damn fuckin’ hard for the past couple of hours. It hasn’t had anywhere to go but get squashed up into my balls in my jock-strap. I know you know how uncomfortable that feels. Hell, given what I see on most of you, you guys are probably feeling the same thing. Am I right?” he challenged them. A chorus of affirming expletives confirmed Grant’s observation. “Well, I’ll start us off. Again, I need a volunteer to get me out of this thing. Then I want you guys to lose all those sweaty shirts and shorts and let me get a gander of your muscles and your packages in your jock straps or briefs…whatever you’ve got on. Show me some poses. Then we’ll take it from there. OK?” Again, he was challenging them. Nobody objected. Yet nobody stepped forward. “Guys, we’re all musclemen here. And we know what we like. I know you’ll really like what I’ve got hidden right now. You’ll especially like it when I get rock hard and my 14” steel pipe bounces around while I pose some more. Just for you today. OK, who’s gonna help me unleash my monster?” he demanded. He wasn’t kidding. Much to my excitement, the biggest and tallest guy stepped forward, standing face to face to Grant. He was one hell of massive bodybuilder in his own right. He also sported a good size package in his own tight shorts. He was wearing a wife-beater t-shirt that showed off some very big muscles and cuts. And, he was still a good six inches shorter than Grant. “I’m Pete and most guys around here know that I like to be worshipped and have quite a following of muscle-worshippers – mostly men. I make no apologies for that. But you’re being here has flipped the tables on me. I like it. Make no bones about that, either. I’ll do the honors and strip you of your jock-strap. Fuck, I like posing in the nude with a hard-on for guys, myself. I especially get turned on when they give me a blow job while I’m posing…if you get my drift,” said Pete in a manner of fact way. “Cool, Pete. I always like to be with men who appreciate what I do. You certainly have the build and the good looks to have a hell of a following. You know what to do now,” instructed Grant. It was quite a turn-on for all of us to see this big good-looking guy get down on his knees just like Tom did. Holy shit, what a sight. Grant, the muscle-god to beat all muscle-gods, being worshipped by another muscle-god. Once again the room was quiet, waiting to see how Pete would strip Grant of his jock-strap. He didn’t waste any time or any opportunity. Just like Tom before him, he wrapped his big muscular arms around Grant’s waist and pulled his jock strap pouch into his face and, at the same time, pushed hard into Grant’s package. After a few moments indulging his own basket fetish, it was clear he was on a mission. He wanted to turn Grant on so much that his big cock would just push out one of the sides of the straining pouch. The question in my mind was whether Grant would let him do that or not. The answer came pretty fast. Grant started groaning and moaning in ways none of us had heard so far that afternoon. He started gyrating his hips and pushing himself into Pete’s face hard, really hard. I thought Pete might get a bloody nose from the near violence of their meeting face to hard pouch. Grant started a round of muscle-sex talk with expletives that we’d heard from the other guys but certainly not from Grant – at least up to now. Pete knew what he was doing by chewing hard on Grant’s thickening cock. The pouch began to extend way to one side from the pressure of Grant’s hardness. Pete just chewed all along the cock’s length with even more passion. Grant was letting Pete have his way. What a role reversal! Then, right before our eyes, the enormous ridged red crown of Grant’s cut 14 inch monster shoved its way out between his crotch and the pouch. I’d seen Grant’s cock earlier in the day and knew we were in for quite a sight. Pete pulled back. We all moved in closer and saw a monster cock that defies description. It was dark and covered in veins. The ridge down the top was surrounded by hard lengths of thick muscle. Guys were gasping at how both very thick and very long this piece of extraordinary manhood was. Grant had not been exaggerating. His tennis-sized balls were still in the pouch. To finish his stripping of Grant, Pete reached around and grabbed the straps around Grant’s glutes and pulled down hard. Not hard enough. The pouch was still jammed up at the top of Grant’s cock. He brought his hands around and, grabbing both sides of the waist band, pulled down hard again. Grant’s cock sprung up high. He bounced his monster as if to make a point. He sure as hell didn’t need to. His balls, not surprisingly, were huge. The small dark tuft of pubic hair was sexy as hell. The guys were, once again, stunned. They’d never seen a man, let alone a muscle-god with this kind of equipment. Pete pulled the strap down and Grant stepped out of it. Pete stood up and backed into the huddle. “Hell, man, god, does that feel good. I guess I just needed some air after all this action this afternoon. Thanks, Pete. You’re good. Very good. I’ll send some of my future worshipping customers your way,” said Grant approvingly. “Alright, feast your eyes on naked muscle power. Everything I have is out here for your viewing pleasure. Snap away. By the way, Pete, you can keep the strap if you want,” Grant added. The cameras were clicking and flashing on overload. These guys were going nuts. Grant gave us another explosive side chest pose. From our side view, his thick muscular cock stood out like a flagpole. He changed sides and gave us another view of his pose, with his cock bobbing up and down. He did that on purpose. It was very, very sexy. Then he gave us another one of his most musculars. Not only were we trying to grasp the enormity of his cut muscles and symmetry, but we also were trying to absorb the addition of the biggest cock any of us had ever seen or will probably ever see. I couldn’t wait to get Grant home and go at it once again with him…all to myself. “God, you guys are great. Now it’s your turn, Grant announced authoritatively.” He wanted them to make good on his challenge he made to them earlier. “Gus, you’d better get these guys more lubricated. They may need it. The party’s just starting,” Grant urged. As these muscleheads started to take off their small, sweat-soaked t-shirts, shorts, and sweaty cum-soaked jock-straps. My mind was reeling. We hadn’t even gotten to the point of these guys taking Grant’s measurements. They had no idea of Grant’s unlimited strength and what he could do with weights that defied human efforts, and what he could do using them as human weights. And, shit, god only knows what would happen if they went into the showers with Grant. This was turning out to be one hell of an introduction to this unusual gym. Grant came over to me, cock bobbing and way out ahead of the rest of his body. I could tell he was really proud of himself and excited about getting these guys getting off. “Paul, my special friend, I hope you didn’t feel too ignored while I was in the spot-light there. Knowing you, I was hoping you’d be gettin’ off on the show, too,” he said with a look of concern. He started gently massaging the back of my neck and shoulders with his big powerful hands. “Oh, Grant, it was amazing. I was stunned that you got these musclemen to think and do things they would never do, especially among themselves. It was really hot. And I got off on it, big time. I ache so much right now. No, I sure as hell did not feel ignored,” I added. “Well, we’ve got to deliver real-time on those fantasies you just had. Knowing these guys, nobody will give a hoot if you blow your load during the next phase of our introductions,” he said with a big ass grin. “Hell, you’ll be doing what they’ll be doing,” he added with supreme confidence. Part VI to follow Feedback welcomed. No flames please. Copyright©[email protected]

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.

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

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.

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.

* 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

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..."

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.

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.

Four Keith walked into the gym as Sean was finishing his workout. “You coming to cheer for me, buddy?, he said, “my first wrestling match is coming up.” “Sure, K. Who’s the victim?”, Sean replied as he stepped over toward the exit. “Don’t know”, Keith said, “Don’t care, either. I’ll smoke ‘em.” “Save some energy for the finals at the end of the year. I’d like you put up some fight against me”, Sean answered. “You’re lucky that you’ve only got to defend your title and don’t have to prove yourself by fighting any other rounds due to the new rules”, Keith said as he followed Sean into the locker room and put on his tight red singlet. “Champ’s privilege, buddy. Let’s see you in action”, Sean replied as they entered the wrestle hall. Back in the locker room, Anton was preparing for his individual swim practice. He stripped down, put on his nicely fitting Speedos and took the metal bottle from his locker. He carefully poured some of the sticky fluid in his left hand and rubbed it over his body. His skin tingled as the fluid sank into it. He put the bottle back in his locker, locked it, entered the pool area and dove into the water. A warm pump spread through his body as he swam lap after lap. Instead of weakening, his strokes seemed to get more powerful. In the wrestle hall, Sean stood at the edge of the mat, watching the match. Match wasn’t the right expression since Keith was just toying with his opponent. A sudden weakness invaded Sean’s body and his vision went dark for a second. Must have trained too hard, he thought as he inhaled deeply. Sean felt his knees go weak and quickly sat down, closing his eyes. Anton encountered more resistance in the water as the pump in his muscles kept increasing. He eagerly climbed out off the pool and rushed over to mirror in the locker room. He smiled at his new physique. He’d put on about 20 pounds and it showed on his body. He’d lost some of his insolating layer of fat that had always covered his body since he’d started to swim. His clearly bigger muscles glistened with water. He flexed his abs, transforming them into a now visible six-pack. He slid down his tight Speedos to discover his familiar pencil dick. Didn’t get any of the liquid on it, he thought, I’ll make up for it next time. He showered quickly and returned to his room. “You okay, buddy?”, Keith asked as he stepped over toward Sean. He’d seen Sean blinking to refocus his vision and nearly crashing down with buckling knees. He’d quickly pinned his opponent to check on his friend. “I’m cool. Must have trained too hard or ate too little. Nice victory by the way”, Sean said as he got up. He gazed incredulously at Keith: standing up straight, he was looking directly into Keith’s eyes and even worse, Keith’s pumped muscles seemed as big as his. “Seems like I’ve finally hit that growth spurt you’ve had last year, buddy”, Keith said laughingly, “Let’s hit the showers”. Sean didn’t react and just followed his friend into the locker room. He kept thinking about what had happened and sneakily glanced at the swiftly stripping Keith. He asked himself if Tomas’ sudden growth spurt was related to Keith’s. He refocused and noticed he was still wearing his sweaty workout gear. He also noticed that his tank top didn’t clang to his torso as usual. The thing’s probably stretched out, he thought as he began to strip off his clothes. Sean strutted over to the shower zone, but stopped as he past the large mirror. He stared at his nude reflection and just knew that something was off. He still looked big, but his muscles seemed less ripped than before. “Admiring the goods, buddy? Mind if I join in?”, Keith asked as he emerged from the foggy shower zone and installed himself next to Sean. Sean gasped as his mind tried to process the image reflected by the mirror. Their bodies were nearly identical. Keith was exactly as tall as him and looked to match his weight to the last pound. “Come on, buddy. Let’s see if my canons match yours after my growth spurt.” Keith’s voice broke Sean’s trail of thoughts. He looked in the mirror again and saw that Keith had flexed his arms, showcasing the vein-covered beef of his hard, 17.5 inch guns. Automatically, Sean raised his arms and flexed them. His meaty arms rose bigger than Keith’s, but didn’t reach their familiar 20 inches. They stopped just over 18 inches and didn’t look as vascular and hard as Keith’s. “Looks like I’m catching up, buddy. Less than an inch and I have ya”, Keith said as he relaxed his arms and put his hands together in front of his abs, flexing his chest. Striations exploded over the surface and veins were pushed up against his thin skin as the big, round muscles hardened into steely slabs of beef, atop a deeply grooved, armor-like six-pack Instinctively, Sean copied the pose. His juicy pecs sprang to life on his chest, but didn’t reach their intimidating hardness. Veins and striations decorated the surface, but the muscle’s hardness didn’t rival Keith’s. Even the cuts of his diminished eight-pack seemed less impressive than Keith’s abs. “I win in the chest and abs department, buddy. You better stay away from beer”, Keith said laughingly as he relaxed his chest. “Let’s check our wheels.” The muscles on Keith’s quads exploded outward as he flexed them. Grooves and veins stretched across the beefy layers of mass. Once again Sean followed his friend’s lead. A few veins stretched from the teardrop shape next to his knees up over the solid mass of his muscular quads. “It seems we have a tie, buddy. I win on chest and abs, you on arms and legs”, Keith said. “Oh, wait. You take the victory.” Sean looked in the mirror again and noticed why Keith was grinning. His cock had inflated to hardness and its thick, throbbing 9 inches were thwacking against his abs. “Another growth spurt and I have ya”, Keith said as he strutted pas Sean to get dressed. Sean showered quickly, sprang into his now looser clothes and rushed back to his room. He entered and barged into the bathroom, ignoring his staring roommate. He tossed his gym bag aside and stepped up the scale. He gasped as he read off his weight. 195! I’ve lost 20 pounds, Sean thought, I’ve got to gain weight fast to defend my wrestle title against Keith. He decided to get some weight gainers and protein bars as soon as possible. The sound of two voices broke off Sean’s thoughts. He reentered the bedroom to find his roommate Tomas talking to Anton. “See you guys later”, Sean said as he headed for the door. “Wait up, big guy”, Tomas replied, “Anton and I were just talking about you.” “I’ll give you guys an autograph when I’m back”, Sean stated. “Very funny”, Tomas said, “We were talking about a little competition between the three of us. To see who can do most sit-ups and push-ups.” Sean turned around at those words. “You guys seriously thinking about competing against me in a physical challenge?” “It’ll be fun. We’ll see right here and right now who’s the fittest. Or you can always forfeit.”, Tomas answered mockingly. “I’ll wipe the floor with you guys. Let’s do this!”, Sean bellowed as he got into sit-up position. “You’ve heard the champ, Anton”, Tomas said as he installed himself next to Sean on the floor. Anton did the same at the other side of the room. “The one who can do most sit-ups in five minutes, wins.”, Tomas said, “Ready? Go!”. Faint, hellish whispers filed the room as Tomas finished speaking. Sean got into his zone and quickly forced out rep after rep, knowing very well that he could easily do over a thousand sit-ups in five minutes. He kept his speed high and did 3 sit-ups in the same amount of time as Anton and Tomas cranked out 1 rep. Tomas was the first to give up. He kept lying on the floor, breathing heavily, after about two minutes. Anton kept pumping out reps. A mild, burning sensation started to spread across Sean’s stomach. He lowered his pace and focused on his fastening breathing. He glanced over to Anton and saw that his speed was going up. Anton felt his muscles grow with every rep. He could feel his stomach harden deeper as his steely abs contracted. He upped his pace further. The burning sensation in Sean’s abs turned into a stabbing pain that he could no longer ignore. He grunted in agony and his back crashed onto the floor after about four minutes. He stared in disbelief at Anton, who kept cranking out rep after rep at an incredible pace. His shirt looks tighter and tighter, Sean thought as he tried to catch his breath for the next round. “That’s 5 minutes. Seems like Anton has the best abs in this room”, Tomas said, “Let’s get into push-up position, guys!” I’ve got to smoke ‘em now, Sean thought as he got ready for the next challenge. “Ready? Go!”, Tomas yelled. A burning pump spread instantly across Sean’s chest as he lowered himself for his first push-up. What’s wrong with me?, he thought as he struggled to push out another rep. His arms started shaking after ten lousy reps and he crashed onto the floor as his grip faltered. Tomas was next to fall out of the challenge. He breathed heavily and looked over at Sean, smiling as he noticed his roommate’s thinning body. Once again, Anton kept pushing out rep after rep, upping his pace while maintaining perfect form. His swelling pecs, shoulders and arms were stretching his shirt to breaking point and small tears were starting to appear on the tight fabric. “Looks like Anton really is the fittest man in the room after two challenges”, Tomas said laughingly, “Let’s see you guys battle it out in the final round: bodyweight squats!”. “That wouldn’t be fair”, Sean said as he tried to calm his breathing and sat down on his bed, “I outweigh him by at least 20 pounds”. “You don’t get it, big guy”, Tomas replied, “I’ll hump on your back and you do as many reps as you can. Then we repeat the whole thing as I hump on Anton’s back. Both of you will have squatted with the same weight and the winner will be the one that cranks out most reps.”. “Ok with me”, Sean said and got up from the bed to get into position. His knees buckled as Tomas got on his back. It took nearly all his force to prevent his legs from wobbling under Tomas’ weight. “Ready, big guy? Go!”, Tomas yelled. Sean very slowly bent his legs, trying to control the weight on his back. He managed to complete one rep as his quads filled with a burning pain. His roommate seemed to get heavier by the second. Every ounce of force escaped his body as he started his second rep. His knees buckled and he crashed down on the floor, burying his face in the rug. “One and a half rep. That’s not very much, big guy.” Sean ignored Tomas’ mocking remark and kept staring down in the rug, trying to catch his breath and figure out what was wrong. He eventually turned over on his back to watch Anton’s performance. Sean’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Anton getting up from the bed. He was clearly taller than his formerly normal 5’7 and his pumped muscles were ready to burst through his insanely tight shirt. “Ready, Anton?”, Tomas asked as he jumped onto the swimmer’s now broader back. “All set”, Anton replied in a clearly deeper voice as if he didn’t feel Tomas weight at all. “Final round. Go!”, Tomas yelled. As Anton bend his legs very slowly, Sean began to hope that he wouldn’t be able to get back up. His hopes died quickly. Anton had seen the hopeful look in Sean’s eyes as he intently performed a very slow first rep, letting his body shake. He then smiled at Sean as he began to push out rep after rep. Once again, his muscles didn’t fatigue thanks to the magic cream he had rubbed on them. More energy filled his body and a ripping sound followed as the tears in his shirt got bigger. Sean stared with wide eyes at the scene in front of him: Anton pumped out perfect rep after perfect rep, ignoring Tomas’s weight on his back. From his perspective down on the floor, he had an amazing sight on the squatting Anton. Sean didn’t even notice his own, weakening body. As his cock inflated to hardness in his boxers, he drank in the sight of Anton’s swelling frame, busting through his ripping shirt. “58,59,60”, Tomas kept counting the reps on Anton’s swelling back. Anton kept squatting up and down as his swelling muscles ripped his shirt to shreds. He looked down at Sean and grinned as he noticed his diminishing frame. “74,75,76” Sweat was pouring over Anton’s body and his face was dark red as his form began to falter. His insanely tight sweat pants looked like they were painted on his meaty legs. Anton grunted deeply and went down after 80 reps. The sound of his fall ended the hellish whispers.

The next morning I awoke to a grabbing at my ankles. I was a little startled, and I jerked my big leg hard, and as I opened my eyes, I realized my foot went straight into Colin's lean gut, and I knocked him clear across the room onto his ass. When I realized what I did, I got up out of bed fast and went over to help him up. "Colin, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize it was you," I said, as I extended an arm to help him up. He grabbed my arm and I pulled him up quite easily. He didn't seem rattled or annoyed at all. "What are you doing up so early Colin?" "You promised to take me to the gym today Greg." He was calm, and not at all winded from the kick in the gut he just got with my size 12 foot. I realized I was standing in just my briefs, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I still had the beefy baseball player's build, my proudest feature being my thick, solid athlete's forearms. Maybe a little leaner than I used to be, but it made my abs pop. I turned sideways just a bit, I always kinda liked showing off. Then I felt a smack on my abs and realized it was Colin. I looked at him, kinda pissed. "What was that Colin?" I asked, moving towards him, and puffing my chest out. "You are looking a little lean there yourself brother. Maybe some weight training will do you good too." He looked me dead in the eye. I was annoyed because he was right. I had let myself get leaner and needed to bulk up. Maybe working out with Colin would be the incentive I needed. I tossed him a notebook and told him to open it up. "I wrote up a training plan for you Colin. Light weights, lots of reps, full body workout. If you keep a good pace, you should be finished in 42 minutes. Try it for two weeks then we can adjust it based on your progress" It occurred to me the night before that it took him five years to gain the last 16lbs, how could he possibly add the next 16 in just three months? He was looking at it intently, and grabbed a pen and made some more notes as I pulled on shorts and a t shirt. I sat down to pull on my training shoes. "Oh and one more thing Colin. If you want to have even a chance of pulling this off, I have one word of advice for you: EAT. EAT lots of proteins and vegetables and fruits. You are pushing your limits, so you need the fuel." "Got it Greg. Feed the machine." I grabbed my keys, bounded down the stairs, with Colin right at my heels. We had a quick breakfast and then headed off to the gym in the new Ford Mustang that my dad gave me for graduation. I didn't belong to your typical barbells-and-treadmill gym. "We use lots of free weights, kettle bells, medicine balls. The members are athletes, Colin, not just gym rats. Baseball, basketball, tennis, soccer, rugby, gymnastics. They need and want endurance and strength training. The trainers push everyone, everyday." Colin nodded, listening intently. "People don't go there to work on their own. But don't worry kid, I will look after you." Colin smiled at me. We walked into the gym and I introduced Colin to a few people, but I could tell he was anxious to get to work. So he flipped open his notes, and I put him through the workout in just about 42 minutes. Shoulders, biceps, triceps, chest then back. I was saving leg work for another day. By the end of the workout, Colin was practically shaking, and the weights were really light. He had good form, but it was hard for me to really watch for his weak spots since he had on a big hoodie sweatshirt. I wanted to ask him to take it off, but I knew how sensitive he was about his size, so I kept my mouth shut. I was having serious doubts about making this 16lb goal. But he was determined, and I let him watch as I did some kettle bell lifts. We stopped on the way home for lunch. Colin ordered some grilled chicken, and ate most of it. I was glad since Colin had always been a finicky eater. But still, he needed to step it up. The next morning, much to my surprise, we repeated the whole day. Colin woke me up, struggled through his work out, watched my work out, then ate, and slept in the afternoon. This cycle went on for two weeks, Colin never giving up or showing any disappointment. He was eating more, going through his workouts faster and gradually lifting heavier weights. But he refused to weigh in, and I could not observe any progress since he was in that hoodie nearly 24/7. On the 15th day, Colin whipped through his workout. "Nice work kid, maybe it's time to up the resistance. We can review your plan later." I was in the middle of some kettle bell tricep presses. He folded his arms and watched me work. I was working harder the past few weeks also, and actually felt like I gained a few pounds. I was pretty beat from my work out, and starting to burn out. I had a 60lb bell in a tricep press and I just started to fail. I didn't want to drop it, so my arms were failing fast. Colin walked over and said "You need some help brother?" And before I could even protest, the palm of his hand was on the bottom of the bell. With a firm voice he said "Let it go brother." And my arms finally failed, and I watched, a bit shocked, as he carried it over and put it back in the rack as if it weighed 5lbs. He just looked at me and said "I'm going to do some wall balls brother, want to join me?" I was in some disbelief over what he just did, without even trying, but chalked it up to either a fluke, or was the work starting to pay off? His shoulders were always broad, but even in that hoodie, could I see that they were getting thicker now too? I watched him as he walked away. Wall balls were a favorite in my gym. We used weighted medicine balls, usually 14 or 20lbs. Starting out in a squat, you would stand up straight and launch the ball for a spot 10 feet overhead, catch it back into a squatting position and repeat. It was a great endurance workout. I told Colin to grab me a 20lb ball, and he should get at 14lb ball. He walked back over with 2 20lb balls. I looked, and he just said "Yea, I can handle it." We got into position and one of the coaches called time, and we just started wall balling. Colin had endurance, that's for sure, and he was handling that 20lb ball with ease. I was keeping pace, enjoying the challenge, until around the 17th rep. I heard a loud crash, turned and looked and Colin, his medicine ball nowhere in sight. Then I looked up. Colin had launched his 20lb medicine ball right through the plaster ceiling, and it was lodged firmly overhead. The gym got quiet, then a few people started to gather. I heard "holy shit...I've never seen anyone do that." Even the trainer clapped Colin on the back. "Wow Greg, your brother really beat your ass." I looked at Colin, still in amazement at his feat, but proud also. He stood there nonchalantly, absorbing all the attention. Once the attention died down, we left for home. "You are making good progress, it seem, Colin. You should eat more, and I'll start to work a more challenging plan for you." He just looked at me. "Yes you will brother." That night, I sat down to eat a 16oz steak I had just grilled for myself. Colin walked into the kitchen, still in that hoodie. "That smells good brother" he said. He grabbed a fork and walked over. Leaning from behind, he said "I just want a bite." I put down my own fork and quickly grabbed his wrist. "No way Colin, get your own food." I held his arm firmly and slowly pushed it away. It was not as easy as I had remembered, and his wrist felt thicker. From what I could see of his forearm, that looked thicker too. I even felt him pushing me back a couple times. But I prevailed, and looked up at him. He just said "I hope you enjoyed that moment brother. Because now I know, it's just a matter of when, not if." And he walked off quietly. My mind was reeling. The kettle bell... the wall ball... able to resist my grip, even for a few minutes. I just could not be sure. On Day 36, I was awakened to something on my ankle again. After a few seconds, I realized it was on both my ankles. I could not move my legs, either apart from each other, or off the bed. Finally blinking wide open, I looked up and saw Colin at the foot of my bed. I struggled a bit, then I realized something. With one hand, one very large and strong hand, he had enveloped around both my ankles and immobilized me. The plan was working, much better and faster than I thought.

This isn't a story about superheros capable of inhuman feats or growth. It is, very simply, a story about a determined young man. Colin used that single-minded determination to put mind over matter, and in the process, he willed his dreams to come true. Colin is my younger stepbrother. I met him when his widowed mom married my dad, about 7 years ago. I don't think Colin ever knew his dad, but he carried his dark Mediterrenean looks. At the time, he was still in grade school, and I was in high school. I still lived with my mom at that point, so Colin and I really only spent time together during holidays and summers. I was your typical high school baseball jock. By 16, I had leveled out at an even six feet tall, and carried a fairly solid 180lbs on my frame. The coaches liked my speed and agility, and they moved me to third base. I was lifting three or four times a week, but I was careful not to add too much muscle. The last thing the coaches wanted was a slow, muscle bound third baseman. I was strong, with solid arms and fairly strong shoulders. My build, overall, could be characterized as your typical beefy baseball jock. Colin was enamored of me right from the start, and I really liked having a kid brother too. He was so devoted, and would come to everyone of my baseball games when our schedules aligned. I would see him in the bleachers, watching and cheering my every play. Holidays and vacations would be filled with baseball games, or a pickup basketball game in the driveway. Colin would exhaust me with questions about my baseball prowess, or how I so easily dunked a basketball. It was tiring, but always fun to share my sports knowledge with him. And every time he met me after one of my baseball games, he would say "I'm going to play third base someday, just like you Greg." In high school, Colin got drafted for the swim team. He was, quite literally, a fish in water. Fast as hell, even though he didn't have the height typical of most swimmers. And he loved it, being on the team. The coaches had him practicing two to three hours a day, sometimes more if a critical meet was coming up, but he never complained. I came home one spring, my first visit home in over four months. I think that was the longest time we had been apart. I was now 23, finishing college, and a fantastic collegiate baseball career. The trainers had me on a disciplined diet, so I was now a leaner 175, still at six feet tall. When I saw Colin, I was a bit startled. He was now about 5 10, but achingly lean from so many hours in the pool. He had the broad shoulders of a swimmer, but his shirts just hung on his frame. He came over to hug me and he felt like a sack of bones. Colin had always been lean, and was sensitive about it, so I didn't say anything. I figured he must have weighed about 130lbs. He had very exciting news to tell me. He had been accepted into the college I just graduated from, and now that he was free of the swim team, he was anxious to try out for the baseball team. "I'm going to try for third base....just like you Greg!" I was skeptical, there was no way he would make the team. I just didn't have the heart to tell him. To make things worse, he had lined up a try out with my old coaches for the following week, and he wanted me to go along with him. He was so excited, so I agreed, keeping my reluctance to myself. My coaches were happy to see me back so soon, and they recognized Colin right away. He was sent to the locker room to suit up, as the other players gathered on the field for try outs. When he walked out onto the field, I was crestfallen for him. The uniform just swallowed up his narrow frame, and he looked like a kid in his dad's clothes. There was no way he could compete with the beefy jocks on the field. I heard one of the coaches chuckle, but I just kept quiet, and cheered for Colin, like he cheered for me so many times. Colin was surprisingly agile and fast on the field. He never missed a fly ball, and ran like a gazelle across the outfield to catch them. The grounders, he always managed to stop, and he made some fast double plays as well. But when he had to throw the ball in from the outfield, I could tell his arm just was not strong enough. Even when he was at bat, he did connect with the ball a few times, but I noticed his frame just could not absorb the power of the ball enough to drive it back out. He seemed to get knocked back a few inches every time. After all the other kids cleared out, the coach called me and Colin into his office. I could tell the coach was about to deliver some bad news. "Colin" he began, "you are a good athlete, and you have the instincts of a good baseball player. And I don't think I have seen anyone as fast as you in a few seasons." Colin looked at me and beamed. I smiled, gamely. Here comes the windup, I thought. The coach said "I can't offer you a spot on the team right now Colin. You are just too lean, and I can't risk you getting injured by one of the bigger players." I looked over at Colin and was surprised that he did not look so disappointed. Maybe it just wasn't registering? "But here's what I can do for you, since your big brother was such a good player. Go get on the scale Colin," and the coach pointed to the doctor's scale in the corner. Colin stripped to his briefs, and got on the scale. Seeing him like that, I could not believe how lean he looked, even though he was fit from the swimming. The scale settled at... 124. Five feet ten inches, 124lbs. I could not wrap my mind around those staggering statistics. Even the coach look surprised, I'm sure he estimated Colin at 130 like I did. "Come back in three months Colin. If you weigh in at 140, I will give you another tryout." I could tell even the coach didn't think growth like that was possible. Colin, expressionless, silently picked up his clothes and went to the locker room to get dressed. He must be devastated, I thought. I looked out to check up on him, and all I saw was his gaunt frame getting swallowed up in a room full of bursting sinew. The ride back home was made in silence. I gamely told Colin that the swim team would love to have him, but he didn't even acknowledge me. Later that night, at home, I was in my room, chatting online with a buddy. My door was pushed open, I looked up and saw Colin standing there, his frame in marked contrast to the wide doorway. I ended the chat and said "hey buddy...cmon in. How are you doing?" Colin walked over to me, and there was a purpose in his stride. "I have three months Greg," he said, with determination. "Three months. Colin, 16 pounds is a lot, even for more athletic guys. I don't want you to be disappointed again. Maybe you should re-think the swim team?" Colin leaned down to me, and looked me right in the eye. He took my chin in his thin, bony hand, and with a stark determination, he said, "I have three months Greg. You can help me, or you can watch me. But I will make that team." I grabbed his thin wrist and with tremendous ease, moved his hand off my chin, in a subtle way, showing him that I was the older brother, and I did not take orders. But I looked in his eyes, and saw the determination, and I was compelled. "Okay Colin, I can help you." Unblinking, he looked at me, and said "that's the right decision brother." I felt a chill. I could have cracked him in half without even trying, but then it dawned on me: he was right. I did make the right decision.

It was my first day with “Meals on Wheels.” I had been looking for a way to do some community service and a friend suggested I might like to help take food to people who were sick or elderly. I had delivered four lunches so far and I was on my last visit. It had gone pretty well, but I couldn’t prevent myself from becoming a little sad after seeing four consecutive frail women in their eighties, especially when I knew I would be the only person to visit them for the entire week. I could feel my brain wanting to finish the last stop quickly and then head home for some processing time. I walked up to the craftsman looking home on the outskirts of a pretty nice neighborhood and knocked on the screen door, noting that the heavy wooden front door was wide open. I didn’t think it was a good idea for an elderly or sick person to leave their home open like this. I made a mental note to mention it to my supervisor. “Yeah, who is it?” came a voice from somewhere in the back of the house – it sounded strained and a little winded. “I brought your lunch um . . . uh . . . Mr. Gaw.” I looked at the name on the sheet. “It’s about time, I’m starved.” “Yes sir. I’m sorry. I had four other stops today. Can I come in to bring it to you?” “You must be new, boy.” The way he said boy made me roll my eyes. Another elderly gentlemen that built his ego up by making others feel inferior. For a second I thought about just leaving the food on the porch, but knew it wasn’t right and I did so want to make a good impression on my first day. “Yes sir, it’s my first day.” “I’ll be danged, I knew it - mainly because no one ever wants to come in. Yeah, bring the food to the back room, straight down the hall.” I entered the house and prepared myself for the fragile state Mr. Gaw was probably going to be in – since he couldn’t even come to the door. I also heard some heavy breathing and what sounded like grunts, as if he were in great pain. I walked down the hall and followed the sounds. I told myself that I would make it a quick visit – walk in, drop the food, and leave. I turned into the last room on the right and immediately dropped the bag of food I held in my hands. It made a loud noise as it connected with the floor. In the center of the room was a huge beefy guy in gray cotton shorts and a white tank top laying on top of a industrial strength weight bench pressing into the air three bars clamped together with what looked like huge keg-sized concrete blocks cemented onto it. The ends of the bars bent so far down it looked like the frown of a huge emoticon. I gasped out loud as two unbelievably large arms swung the huge weight back into a makeshift stand at the head of the bench. It looked like someone had taken two steel girders and had them shaped into v-like supports and I instantly realized those beams would be the only things strong enough to hold the enormous homemade weight set - that is, besides the dude laying on his back. My chin fell downward as soon as the big man on the bench sat up, the sturdy looking piece of metal furniture underneath cried out from the strain as his body moved. The first thing I noticed about the man was the shocking white-haired crew cut and the thick matching goatee. I then noticed the tanned face with crow’s feet around the piercing blue eyes, heavy wrinkles at the side of a supple looking set of lips, and the manly crevices across the forehead. The man must have been in his late seventies or early eighties, but his body was huge and looked much younger. It was hard to prevent my gaze from traveling straight to the thick-as-hell bull neck that supported the elderly masculine face, which was now looking straight at me. I had only a few seconds to contemplate how it was possible for a neck to look so powerful before the booming voice of Mr. Gaw – now unstrained because he wasn’t lifting what looked like a few tons – spoke to me. “Yeah, the boy’s surprised to see such a huge fucking grandpa, ain’t he?” “Yes.” My answer was weak and feeble. “Yes what, little squirt.” “Yes sir.” “Nice answer. I bet you thought you were going to find some weak looking skinny man barely able to get out of bed, weren’t you now, tiny.” My mind couldn’t even register the insulting words he was using to refer to my body. I was too dumbfounded by what appeared before me. This was a guy surely in the senior part of his life and yet he was bigger than a doublewide refrigerator. I waited too long to answer and this made Mr. Gaw stand up. I cried out like a baby as I gazed upon his full size and then I fell against the side of the doorframe. “You thought I’d be some half-dead, skin and bones dweeb, didn’t you, puny man?” “Yeah.” Again, my voice sounded faint and breathy. “Don’t make me come over there and beat some manners into ya, youngster. You answer your muscle granddaddy like you should, boy.” “Yes sir.” “Yeah, I can see the new boy learns fast. That’s a good little tike. Master Gaw is going to like breaking you in. What’s your name Mr. Teeny lad?” It had finally sunk into my overwhelmed brain that the muscled senior citizen in front of me was letting insults about my size fly as if he could care less about my feelings. I certainly wasn’t as big as him, but I was a decent five eleven and weighed about two hundred pounds. I was in no way what most people would consider small, but this just didn’t register to my huge client. I began to think he might be suffering from dementia or something. “Mr. Gaw, I’m not that small and my name is Kevin.” This caused the old man to smile at me, like he knew a special secret that I didn’t. He stood there for a few seconds and then his gaze turned into something that resembled pity. He made a little tisk tisk sound with his tongue and shook his head. The man reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled off the sweat drenched tank top in one fluid movement – even though I could tell it was hard for him to get the thing over his wide shoulders and big arms. I sucked in air audibly when I got my first glance of his uncovered torso and this made the man smile even more. He walked over to me and I realized immediately that, while I was easily standing inside the door frame of the entrance to the room, the elder man’s shoulders stuck out much farther than the even the molding that surrounded the doorway. The behemoth surely had to turn sideways any time he came into the room. The same was probably true for all the doorways in his house. He puffed out his chest and squared his shoulders even more, simply to emphasize their insane width. I also noticed that I had to tilt my head back to look up at his face – the man was enormous, probably over six-five. He was looking down at me with his evil grin and ocean colored eyes. Mr. Gaw then snorted out a short little snicker and stepped to his right. He leaned his body to the left a little and brought his arm level with my chest. The man started laughing a little harder as he raised his forearm and started pumping up his biceps in front of me. “Holy fucking shit!” That was the most intelligent thing I could muster as I watched the massive peak of his arm thicken and rise in front of me. My entire view of the rest of the room was blocked by his monstrous gun, which was covered in leather like tanned skin. There were layers upon layers of muscles packed into his gigantic biceps and his forearm was covered in thick white hair. “Hey Minnie man, look how my gargantuan flexed arm stretches from your chest to way higher than your head.” My head didn’t move but my eyes looked upward so I could see how high the top of his biceps went. Because he had his arm so close to my head and because the fucking thing was so big I could not see the peak. “Just the fucking arm of this elder giant is bigger than a fourth of your entire body. I’d say that makes you teeny weeny, Kevin. But let’s get one thing clear; you’re mainly small because I say so. Got it, little whippersnapper? “Uh huh.” I gulped deeply after I answered. Mr. Gaw stopped flexing his arm and brought his big palm to the top of my head, easily wrapping his thick long fingers around my skull. He straightaway started squeezing hard and a shout of pain escaped from my mouth. To emphasize his point the big man simply shook my head a little with his fingers as he spoke. “I know you forget to pay me the proper respect mainly because you are so overwhelmed by my muscles and size, junior, but you really need to start minding your big daddy mentor. I would hate to have to carry your small body over to that bench, throw you across my knee, and make you piss in your pants from just one powerful whack of my hand. A spanking from me is kind of like getting hit by a speeding SUV. I think you must be forgetting your proper place in this new relationship. You need to remember you’re nothing but a little baby next to this big daddy. Maybe if I cradle you like a little infant you’ll remember your true position. Or maybe there’s a better way for me to remind you of your status when we’re together.” Mr. Gaw was holding my head completely still with his giant hand. At the same time he had brought one of his thick pecs to my face. I had to look cross-eyed since he was so close, but I could see his hard chunky nipple jutting out level with my nose. I licked my lips as I gazed on the tufts of thick white hair surrounding the juicy looking cylinder of meat. Mr. Gaw moved his chest from side to side causing the erect man-teat to brush roughly across my nose. It actually hurt, but getting the chance to feel the big bull-of-a-man’s body so close made it bearable. The smell of his pungent sweaty pits filled my nostrils and caused my mouth to salivate. I longed to taste the saltiness of this man’s perspiration. “Look at my little baby frothing at the mouth for some of this muscle tit. Yeah, I thought you were a little chest pig the moment I saw you. Here, suck on this for a while, boy. Make your old man’s cock get hard.” The powerful Gaw pressed his hard nipple against my lips and shoved his chest into my face. He used so much force that my mouth had to open and I parted my teeth to welcome what felt like a cork-sized heap of man beef, along with some of the solid muscle of his pec. Using the strong grip he still had on my head the man bounced my face into his super-sized pectoral, which triggered me to start sucking like a wild man – both to give him pleasure and to get air into my lungs. The elderly man tensed his chest just to intensify the pain as my face slammed into his skin. I, however, chose not to shut my eyes – mainly because I wanted to look at the brawny striations across his chest. It looked like tiny farmers had cultivated numerous rows of muscle underneath his skin. When he flexed it was as if waves of pec meat was rippling toward the ocean of abs beneath the cliff-like edges of his chest. “Yeah, that’s a good little boy. You suck grandpa’s tit and suck it hard. Maybe you can get a little of my man milk and maybe it will help you grow big and strong some day. I can tell you’re still shocked as hell by this old man’s body, aren’t you, son. You never thought a senior citizen could get so big and strong, did you?” In between sucks and when he wasn’t shoving my face into his chest I was able to respond. “Yes . . . sir . . . how . . . sir?” “Shit, boy, before you were even sperm I was lifting heavy things. By the time I was twelve I was way bigger than you are right now. I grew up on a farm and my father was larger than I could ever hope to become. Yeah, I felt your entire body shake just now when you thought about the size of my daddy. Hell, he’s still alive, little man. Yep, he’s over a hundred years old and he can still lift a small car. He’s the only man that’s ever beaten me at wrestling. You’ll have to meet old man Gaw when he comes into town. He like’s playing with pretty boys. Damn, he and I could toss your puny body back and forth like a Frisbee. You’d like me to get my super senior daddy to show off for you, wouldn’t you, Kevin.” “Yes . . . sir . . . please sir.” “Nice son, that’s a good boy answer. You are learning so well. I think you can advance a little in your lessons now. It might be time for you to move beyond the diaper stage. Well, maybe not, since I think you’ll soon be losing control of that cock of yours and definitely making a big boy cum mess. It won’t be your fault, though. Your little body just can’t handle being this close to huge daddy muscles – now can it?” “No sir.” Gaw pulled his chest away from my face, which was now raw from his abuse, and he let go of my head. He backed up a little and then reached out and grabbed me by the ass. He latched on hard to my glutes and squeezed, causing me much pain. I went up on my tiptoes and again shouted out loud. This made the big man laugh as he easily shoved my entire body toward the back of the room. He gave my ass a hard tap as I moved away. The smack echoed loudly in the sparsely furnished room. “Yeah, that hurt like hell didn’t it, Kevin? And that was just a light little love tap. That should give you an idea of what a real whopping from your granddaddy Gaw would feel like. I bet you’re going to do as I say now more than ever, aren’t you.” “Yes sir.” I was rubbing my ass furiously, trying to lessen the intense stinging. I figured I was going to have an imprint of the big man’s hand down there for a few days. I quickly anticipated beating off in the coming week just from lowering my pants and looking at his paw print on my aching butt. I kept moving further into the room, nervous that Mr. Gaw was going to smack me on the ass again. He sauntered into the room a few steps behind me and I could see that two things were causing him to walk a little stiffly. First of all, the insides of his thighs pressed his legs apart making it almost impossible for him to walk without waddling. And secondly, there was a fire hose sized cock stretching obscenely across his thigh and pushing his cotton shorts out like the giant pole in the center of a circus tent. My eyes widened as I began to fathom the dimensions of his rod and my ill-mannered gawking was not missed by Mr. Gaw. “Too much man meat down there for you, too – huh, little man? It’s not nice to stare now, Kevin, but I know you can’t help it. You’re just trying hard to grasp how big that python is, aren’t you? Guess what, boy? It’s not even fully hard yet” This caused me to start coughing – it was like I gagged on just the thought of trying to get his penis in my mouth. I quickly braced my body on the nearest thing – which ended up being one of the large slabs of concrete implanted on the ends of the combined bars the guy was lifting when I came in. After catching my breath I finally looked at where my hand rested. The block of concrete was so large that it almost touched the ground even as it rested in its girder-like holders. I quickly figured out that the large pieces of stone were bigger than half my body – they were way over four feet high and the same width. I turned to the smiling face of Mr. Gaw. I was too flabbergasted to make a coherent sentence. “How . . . much, I mean . . . what’s the . . . how much does one of . . .” “Don’t ask, son. I stopped using conventional weights in my thirties. Nothing was heavy enough. I started using trucks and big pieces of machinery, but most of the time I demolished them by gripping too hard or letting them smash into the ground when dropping them at the end an intense set of reps. People stopped letting me use their vehicles or other items because I destroyed too many. That’s when a contractor friend volunteered to make me some mega-sized weights. He poured those small things for me to use in the house. He also gave me two steel girders so I could bend them into shape to hold the weight. Shit, boy, there’s nothing hotter than taking a big thick girder and molding it easily with just your hands. I’ve never weighed those things, so I don’t know how much I’m lifting. I do know, however, they’ve become too light. I can toss them around for hours and not feel a thing.” “You said these are small, sir?” “Oh yeah, real small. My friend used some big Jacuzzi’s as molds for my outdoor weights. He just poured the cement in and then let me bust the fiberglass rims with my hands. He used a streetlight pole as the bar. The big ones are in the back yard. That’s where I do most of my hard ass workouts. These things in here are just to keep the blood pumping in my guns during the day. And to impress the shit out of little dweebs like you.” I ignored the dweeb comment, mainly because I was running my hand over the huge lump of concrete in front of me. I put both of my hands against the side of the stone and pushed with all my might. The damn thing didn’t even slightly move. I pushed harder, thinking that with a little leverage I could at least make the weight bars move a little. It was no use. I quickly realized that three of me put together would not be able to budge the bulky mass. “Don’t strain yourself, puny man. We want you to be able to have some more fun with your muscled elder. You’re no good to me if you’re hurt or even just plain tuckered out. You need to save all of your strength to keep up with me - even if it’s just for a little while. Grab one of those blocks in the corner and bring it to daddy. Let me do something to pump some more juice into that hard cock of yours. I want to intensify your upcoming explosion to a higher level. We might get you scores of nine or a perfect ten, even from the Russian judge, when I allow you to finally shoot your wad.” I looked to where he pointed and saw there were some huge cinder blocks, the kind used for the construction of large buildings, laying in the back corner. They were the big concrete gray bricks that had big holes in the middle – used for wires or pouring in cement foundations. These looked bigger than the ones I had used in college to hold up my bookshelves. I could have probably fit one of my legs into the middle of these thick blocks – or even my entire body. I also noticed there was a pile of sand in the corner, as well. I figured Mr. Gaw was filling bags for something. I reached down to lift one of the blocks off the ground and was surprised as hell when it only came up about a half of inch. I tried to lift it again, using a lot more of my strength and the thing only raised into the air slightly more. I turned to look at Mr. Gaw, ready to ask him for help. What I saw almost made me instantly shoot my cock’s building load. The older white-haired Samson was curling the triple-barred massive manmade weight – with just one hand! I fell backward in shock and was thankful I was so near the wall. It broke my fall. I started to cry out like a shocked child but no sound could escape my mouth. I was simply too astounded by the man. I watched closely as he executed perfect one-armed curls for ten repetitions and then tossed the monstrous thing in the air and caught it with his other hand. He then repped out ten lifts with his other arm. His biceps were suddenly what seemed to be twice the size they had been when he measured them against my body. I knew a small child could easily hide behind this senior’s bulging guns. He dropped the weight back into the holders and the room shook from the jolt. I took a few seconds and focused on the girders that held the united bars. I could see finger indentions on the sides of the steel beams and got a little light headed thinking about Mr. Gaw bending the things with just his hands. “Yeah, boy, I’ve got these guns pumped up something nice for you. We’re going to have a little fun now, son. Don’t try to lift those things, Kevin. You’re too weak for that. Just slide the things over on the floor. I can’t begin to remember what it feels like to not be able to lift a bunch of tonnage. I feel sorry for you. My cock, alone, could lift four of those cinder blocks put together boy, and yet your entire body can barely get one an inch off the ground. It must be difficult being so small and feeble, Kevin. Here, you thought you were going to come in and help a frail old man by giving him lunch, but you had no idea that your body would end up being so scrawny and powerless compared to mine. Come on little man, put some force behind that cinder block. You’ve barely moved it two feet.” Mr. Gaw was right. The fucking thing was so heavy that I was wearing myself out just trying to slide it across the floor. It was even larger than I thought. The outer ring of the block was probably about a foot thick, leaving a hole in the center that was definitely as big as my waist. I could tell that metal had been mixed in with the concrete ring, as well. This added to its strength and weight. The elderly muscle man had obviously grown tired waiting for me, so he walked over and grabbed the cinder block between just the pinky and ring fingers of his right hand. He lifted the block up like it was a feather. He then wrapped his other hand around my waist and easily lifted me into the air. Being cupped in the big man’s sweaty armpit was like winning a thousand lotteries. I felt his huge pumped-up biceps against my body and his muscle packed chest pressed into my side at the same time. He squeezed so hard that all the air was instantaneously forced out of my lungs. I could not take a breath because his grip was too damn strong. I was thankful when he dropped me on my feet as soon as we were back in the middle of the room. I inhaled deeply. Mr. Gaw snickered at my misfortune and then brought the cinder block to his chest level. “So, Mr. Delicate, let’s see what kind of damage your big grandpa can do to this flimsy light thing, okay?” I stared at the man and, even though my body was still in pain, I was excited beyond belief. I could not wait to see what the guy chose to do to this heavy piece of concrete. “Yes, please sir.” “You have done so well at learning your manners today, Kevin. I am so proud of you. It’s time to reward you a little and then we’ll work at pleasing me. I bet you never thought you’d end up the plaything of some monstrous eighty-year-old man, did you? But that’s just the way life goes sometimes. Let’s not mess up those pretty clothes of yours. Undress boy.” It was certainly not a polite request and I did not need to be told twice. I had quickly learned that my new daddy boss did not feel he should ever have to repeat himself. I kicked off my shoes and socks, peeled my shirt from my upper body, and then pulled down my pants and underwear at the same time. I placed all of my clothes on the concrete block, still resting in the hand-molded holders. I was happy to notice that my body made Mr. Gaw smile. He nodded his head up and down in approval. “Yeah, boy, that’s a real nice body. And I can see why you might have thought you were big before you met me. But take a look at your body son, and then look back at me. Go ahead. Yeah, that’s it. Get a good long look. Now look at me. It’s kind of hard to miss me, huh? Tell me what you notice Kevin?” “I notice that there’s no comparison, sir. I feel small and weak next to your gray-haired super-strong huge body. I see skin weathered with time, but still gorgeous and vibrant. I see hands with calluses bigger than my fist, sir. That hard skin on your palms is from years of lifting weight that all other men could only dream about moving - weight that even most bulldozers would have trouble budging. I see the most beautiful muscle daddy that has ever walked the earth.” “Well son, truer and finer word have never been spoken. Your Mr. Gaw is going to reward you handsomely.” The giant man took the cinder block in one hand and slid his other forearm into the hole. I watched as Gaw slid the cement ring up his arm – having to push it hard to get it over his thick biceps. I was amazed that his skin didn’t tear – but then I quickly figured it must be as strong as the rest of him. The man simply turned the cinder block into an armband. It was the hottest thing I had ever seen. He then raised his arm – leaving it outstretched at his side, with the block hugging his gun. “You don’t touch your cock until I say you can, is that clear little fellow?” “Yes sir.” “I bet you have beat off for years watching men bust their biceps through the sleeves of their shirts, haven’t you boy.” “Yes sir.” “Well let’s put a new twist on that image, shall we, son? From now on an arm ripping through a shirt isn’t going to impress you at all.” With that, Mr. Gaw started bringing his forearm up slowly and methodically. I watched as the man’s big solid biceps started expanding and filling in every possible space within the block. I was amazed to see his skin push out over the sides of the block, because it couldn’t go anywhere else at first. For a few seconds I thought nothing was going to happen and then the room was filled with a popping sound that made the walls reverberate. Chunks of concrete came flying off of the edges of the cinder block. I could feel tiny pebble-like pieces hitting my body, but I didn’t dare take my eyes from Mr. Gaw’s biceps. The man was barely straining and intensified the pump of his biceps even more. Suddenly the entire block exploded from around his swelling arm. It was like watching some guy’s arm busting apart a plastic armband but it was also a hundred times more powerful. Seeing his biceps obliterate heavy concrete was beyond orgasmic. I moaned out loud as portions of the block flew across the room and some big lumps fell to the ground. I desperately wanted to grab hold of my cock and pump myself to orgasm, but I remembered Mr. Gaw’s order and there was no way I was going to disobey him. The big man’s biceps was bulging in front of me and looked even more glorious than before – probably because I had just witnessed some of its incredible power. “Fuck, that is so hot every time, little man. I’m proud of you for not grabbing that cock. Most men can’t make it through that easy display. You’ve got some stamina and I like that – even in someone as small as you. Not to worry, son, we’ll be getting you off soon. Let me just clean up some of this mess.” The big man reached down and grabbed a couple of the big chunks of concrete from the ground. He stood back up and held the two pieces in his right hand – with his left palm open underneath. I heard a high-pitched squealing sound and saw his fist grow tighter around the stone mass. I cried out in pleasure as soon as I saw a steady stream of sand descending from his clenched fist into the waiting palm. It was taking no effort for the big muscled daddy to mash the concrete into nothing. My legs began to weaken. My moaning got louder and my body began to shake. “Hold on little man, your big daddy wants to give you one more thrill to send you catapulting over the top.” Mr. Gaw reached out and grabbed my tense body. Feeling his sand covered hands against my skin made his recent display of strength even more real and my toes began to curl tightly in anticipation of what was coming. He quickly brought my weakened body up to his chest and let my stiff cock nestle into the deep valley between his pecs. The strong man then merely lifted my body up and down while he squeezed his powerful chest together – surrounding my hard cock with hard warm sweaty muscle. It took only a few times of jerking my dick up and down in between his mountains to send me over the top. I threw my head back, screamed like some kind of wild animal, and then released my powerful eruption into the cavernous division between Gaw’s huge pecs. I could tell volumes of cum were being released from my body, mainly because I felt it deeply, but also because I saw a bountiful amount of cum shoot out lava-like over the huge chest in front of me and then flow downward over the bulging muscles. My body continued to shake uncontrollably for a few minutes and I knew it would be hard for me to ever again spew forth that much man juice, but then I quickly began to think about all the other things Mr. Gaw might do to show off and I started to get excited again– even before I had fully recovered from his small display of strength. [Part Two for Tumblr] “That sure was pretty, boy, but we’re not done. It’s time for this old colossal man to get off.” I was carried easily over to the end of the bench. Mr. Gaw sat down and then worked both of my legs to either side of his big trunk-sized thighs. He manipulated my body around like I was some kind of doll. Then, without any warning, he slammed my ass down onto his waiting cock. My eyes rolled into the back of my head from the pain and I opened my mouth wide, but, as before, no sound came out. “Sorry, tiny man, but there’s no way I could slowly introduce my large tool to your hole. Trust me, the quick way is the best way. Now I’ll just twist your body a little so you can get used to having a fire hydrant up your ass.” This made Mr. Gaw laugh out loud and then he did, indeed, turn my body to the left and to the right to make it nestle down on his cock even more. It felt like someone had shoved a flagpole up into my body. The pain began to subside and Mr. Gaw, knowing how much it would please me, leaned in and kissed my lips hard. “That’s for being a good boy. I’m going to now start using your body to jerk off my cock, son. Don’t worry, it will give you pleasure, too, but know that a big man like me can’t stop himself when he gets going. I won’t hurt you much, you can count on that. Just squeeze your ass as tight as you can and we’ll both get along fine. Here we go – get ready for the ride of your life.” The big hands at my waist grabbed onto me even tighter and then Gaw started propelling my body up and down on his hard prick using just the strength of his arms. I tried to squeeze my ass as tight as I could – partially to prevent some of the pain, but also to give Mr. Gaw more pleasure. From the way he was moaning and breathing heavy I knew it was working. The man thrust my body up and down so fast that I began to get a little sick. The room was just a blur now. I could feel the old man’s stiff cock getting even firmer as he abused my ass. Finally, the man raised me up on his cock and then slammed me down with enough strength to knock the wind out of me. It didn’t matter, though, because suddenly I felt his huge penis begin to throb hard, I watched his abs concave in, and I heard what can only be described as a beastlike yell. Then hot cum, not just warm juice, shot up into my insides. I figured if I looked down at my ass I would surely see steam rise because of the heat emanating from my hole. I wondered if the temperature was mostly caused by the inertia created from his strong arms or was it because the man was so masculine that even his cum was insanely powerful. Either way I knew I had just been fucked by what was surely the most masterful daddy alive. I looked into his beautiful rugged face and my body tingled all over when I saw the huge muscle man smile at me. The gentleness I was feeling didn’t last long. The man lifted my body off of his cock and then dropped me on the floor in front of him. He grabbed me by the hair and then proceeded to wipe up his cum-covered balls and cock with my face. I was certainly not complaining – getting to feel his hard dick up against my face and to steal tastes of his man milk was awesome– but it did seem like his actions were from someone that only cared about dominating and conquering. I wasn’t sure Mr. Gaw was capable of much generosity or gentleness. After his cock was cleaned and glistened from the saliva of my tongue bath, the man released my hair. He again lifted me into his lap – this time holding me like a small child, my upper body held aloft by one of his meaty arms and my legs draped over his opposite big thigh. I could feel his semi-hard wet cock pressing into my ass and lower back. The big man began to stroke my chest and stomach lightly. His actions made my eyes fill with water and Mr. Gaw noticed as he gazed down at me. “I have to be tough son, so you’ll appreciate it when I’m kind. I have to be the disciplinarian as well as the protector. Understand boy?” “Yes sir.” I said through my tears and tried hard to stop crying. “It’s fine for you to cry, boy. You’re not used to being around such size and strength. It’s hard to get your mind around all that my body is capable of – the destruction it can cause, the heavy stuff it can lift, the good it can do, and all that. I represent so much for you, boy. You desire a protector as well a dominator. You want me to treat you both rough and gentle. You like me when I’m mean and you like me soft. I deserve to be your master, boy, and you know it. I’ve learned a hell-of-a lot in my time on this earth. I know you now won’t ever look at elderly people the same way, son. That’s why ‘Meals on Wheels’ hired me.” “What sir?” “That’s right, boy. See, the program uses me to test their new male volunteers. I give them a big helping hand, so to speak. If men still want to serve after visiting me, then they become part of the service. I’m used as a tool to weed out the weak ones.” “I still want to serve meals, sir, but on one condition.” “You think you’re in a place to give me conditions, boy?” “No sir, it’s just that I think you’ll like this condition. I’ll be glad to serve many meals to the sick and elderly if my last stop can always be here.” “Hell, son, no one’s ever asked for that. That sounds like a great plan to me. Give your big gramps a kiss.”

The idea started out as a passing topic while chatting with some friends over coffee. Like them, I'm a witch as well as a skilled tarot card reader. I had toyed with the idea of using pictures of people and things as cards. After showing them pictures of my mom and dad as the Empress and the Emperor, respectively, they said I should "make a deck of these." The next thing I know, I was taking snapshots of people and strategically-placed objects for the 78 cards of the tarot. I even started that day by having the barista hold up a latte for the Ace of Cups. Things were going smoothly. I had half of the pictures needed for the deck, including all of the numbered cards of the Minor Arcana. A local judge I had contacted was eager to help a "budding photographer" portray the Justice card in the courtroom. She even convinced the bailiff to pose as the Knight of Pentacles. I was on my way home from shooting the Knight of Pentacles picture when I got a text from Carol, a friend who posed as the Queen of Cups. "I've got the perfect guy for Strength card." "Really? When can I meet him?" I responded. What came back was an address and "Rigid now." "Better re-read that." "*RIGHT now. Ducking auto-cucumber." I bit my lip to keep from laughing at her Autocorrect fail. The address was fortunately near my apartment, so I headed straight there. As I climbed the stairs to the mystery person's third-floor walkup, I wondered who it would be. Some card decks portray Strength as female, to symbolize inner strength. However, I told them that I had a guy in mind for the Strength card. In my mind, the best way to represent inner strength was with an image of physical strength. I knocked on the door of 3A and waited. When the door opened, I was greeted by a tower of massive muscle. His torso was shrink-wrapped in a red short-sleeved muscle shirt, while a pair of black shorts hugged his titanic thighs like a second skin. "Uh, hi," I managed to say. "I'm Sean, Carol's friend." "Oh yeah," the beast responded in a rich baritone, "the photographer doing the tarot pictures. Come on in." I entered the apartment, a cozy one-bedroom set up for a bachelor. A faint smell of musk and cum told me he likely never went to bed alone. "By the way, the name's Brett," he said, holding out a meaty paw. As I shook it, I felt what must have been only a fraction of his strength. "Quite a grip there, Brett," I quipped. "Do you even lift?" "Does it look like I lift?" he responded sarcastically, his witty retort punctuated by a flexing bicep. I practically started drooling at the sight of the sharply-peaked mound of mega-massive muscle. "Yeah, I think it does," I answered, keeping my cool. "I might even hazard a guess at saying that you're pretty strong." "That sounds like a fair assessment," he said. "Good to know that you're as witty as I am." He had set up the living room for the photo shoot. The strange thing was he had barbells and rebars on one side.of the room. I wasn't sure what he had in mind, but I figured it was linked with the picture. I pulled out my camera as he stood before me, ready to pose. "Ready to see your Strength card, little man?" he said in a extremely confident manner. He blasted a front double biceps pose that nearly floored me. I quickly snapped picture after picture. He went through pose after pose, each one just as mind-blowing as the last. I was surprised I could focus through the hard-on I was sporting. Suddenly he smiled. "I see you like my muscles," he noted. "Now let me show you REAL strength." With that, he grabbed his shirt at the chest and, in one swift motion, tore the offending article of clothing from his body. He was ripped to shreds; I haven't seen this much definition outside of an anatomy chart. Not only that, he looked even more monstrously massive than when he had his shirt on. He flexed another front double biceps and grinned cockily. "Fuck yeah, gets me boned being this huge." He grabbed a barbell and started to bend it. I could not believe what I was seeing. This man, this muscle master, was bending a steel barbell with his bare hands. I nearly shot off a load then and there. Each sinew on his body looked like steel cables as he bent the metal bar into submission. "Holy shit!" I finally managed to say. "How..." "How big am I? Or is that how strong am I?" he asked. "You're gawking at 350 pounds of superhuman muscle packed onto a 6'5" frame. My biceps measure more than your waist and my right pec is twice the size of your head. As to how strong I am,..." Leaving the response open, he grabbed three rebars and, with no visible effort, twisted them into a pretzel. Without touching myself, that display alone made me cum. I spasmed in orgasm, shouting his name and calling him a god of muscle. I had not noticed, but my finger hit the shutter at the moment he was halfway into the cum-summoning display. I dropped my camera on the sofa and approached him, my hands immediately darting to his massive pecs. "I guess I have the picture I need for the Strength card," I said with a smile. "What should we do afterwards?" "Well, Sean," Brett responded, "you could stick around. Showing my real strength always gets me horny, and you look like just the worshiper this muscle god needs."

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

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