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  1. Part 1 I had graduated from art school a few months ago, but was still working as a barista at a coffee shop. Finding work as an artist was tough, so I had to keep working that crappy job until I could find something better. To take my mind off of that, I went to the gym to workout. Even though I didn’t know that much about lifting weights, I did what I could to build muscle. I always admired (and lusted after) huge muscle guys, wondering how they got so big. I had an athletic build, but my body was extremely small compared to those guys. I always wished I could be as big as them. When I hit the gym floor, I noticed two massively built older guys doing the bench press together. They were both wearing string tanks, tight shorts, weight belts and training shoes. They looked like they were 6 feet tall and weighed 280 pounds each and about 50 years old. Both were ruggedly handsome, one bald with a beard, the other with short dark hair and a mustache. And both their cocks were showing in those tight shorts underneath large muscle guts. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them as they took turns lifting the bar, loaded with four plates on each side. One grunted out rep after rep, while the other one encouraged him to keep going. They would slap each other on the chest after each set. “Good job, man! Looking pumped!” I could see their dicks harden and grew during the set. I moved to a flat bench next to them and hoped to get a better look while I worked my chest. I put 45-pound weights on each side of the bar and tried to get to ten reps. After a few, I started to struggle. “Hey little man, need some help?” I heard a deep voice ask. I looked up and saw a bald, bearded face staring down at me above a pair of massive pecs and a huge bulge. “Um, sure,” I responded. He put his hands under the bar, helping to guide it as I continued to push up and down. “There you go, keep pushing. Stay in form. That’s it.” His encouraging words helped me through the set, as I finished out the full ten reps. I sat up and turned to him and smiled. “Thanks, that was helpful.” He smiled back. “No problem. Do you want me to spot you for the rest of your set?” “Oh, I don’t want to interrupt your workout with your friend over there.” I motioned over to the other daddy, who was talking on his phone and adjusting his cock. “Oh, he has to take care of some business, so it’s all good.” “Ok, sure!” I got excited that this huge muscle daddy was helping me workout and I started to pop a boner in my sweats. I laid back down on the bench, hoping he didn’t notice my hardon. I started my next set and he guided me through it. His deep voice calmed me as I focused on lifting the bar up and down. The weight didn’t feel as heavy now. I did two more sets, feeling pumped at the end. “Good job! You got a nice pump from that!” He exclaimed, looking down at my pecs. I blushed, still feeling tiny compared to him. I looked down and caught his dick moving in his shorts. “Yeah, good job!” said the mustached daddy, who walked over, or waddled more accurately. His dick bounced as he moved. “Thanks. I’m pretty new to working out, so I’m still trying to learn the ropes.” I smiled sheepishly. They both exchanged glances. The bearded daddy said, “You want to work out with us? We can show you a few things. We have been doing this for awhile.” He raised his arm, flexed his thick bicep and laughed. My cock hardened immediately. “Sure!” I said, surprised at the invitation. They both slapped me on the back and chuckled. “Good! I’m Terrell and this is Tony.” Both reached out their meaty hands to shake my much smaller one. My cock quivered at their touch. “I’m Josh. Nice to meet you.” They led me over to a cable machine and set the weight up. I followed their instructions as they taught me proper form and technique. Hearing their deep voices tell me what do while working out my chest turned me on so much. I had to keep adjusting myself so my hardon wasn’t visible. But as the workout went on, the more intense it got and I soon forgot all about that and just focused on lifting weights. All I could hear were their voices telling me what to do as my pecs pushed themselves to the limit. By the end, my chest felt destroyed, but totally pumped. “Great workout, Josh. You really killed it!” Terrell said patting me on my chest with his giant hand. “Yeah, I’m impressed,” Tony remarked, also patting me on my chest. “Really?” I was practically out of breath and completely drenched in sweat. They were both covered in sweat and their pecs had swelled even more from the workout. I felt like a toothpick standing next to them. They were so wide and thick, packed with dense, veiny muscle. Every time they moved, their muscles twitched. I felt light headed being surrounded by so much muscle. I bent over to catch my breath. “You ok, Josh?” Tony asked. “Yeah, but I think that workout killed me, though.” Both laughed. “Good, that way you know it’s working!” He slapped me on the back. “We gotta run, but you wanna work out with us again sometime?” I looked stunned. Why were these muscle gods so willing to help me? “Um, yeah, I’d love to!” “Cool. How about you meet us here tomorrow at the same time?” “Ok, see you then!” I wiped sweat from my face. “Make sure to eat plenty of food today and get lots of sleep. You don’t want to waste those gains!” Then Tony reached into his duffle bag and pulled out some pills. “Oh, and take these supplements, they will help you recover from the brutal workout today. We want you nice and rested for the torture we’re going to put you through tomorrow! Haha!” I laughed nervously with him. “See you tomorrow, Josh!” said Terrell, patting me on my bubble butt while he and Tony waddled out of the gym. I was stunned. I felt so lucky that those two muscle daddies trained me. And they were going to train me again! I eagerly popped the pills that they gave me and washed them down with water. I went home, ate a ton, and then went to bed early, dreaming of those two muscle daddies. Part 2 The next day I bolted out of work and ran straight to the gym. As soon as I walked in the door, I saw Tony and Terrell standing at the front desk, looking massive. I got hard instantly. I hoped I could make it through the workout without embarrassing myself. They smiled and waved at me. “Ready for your next training session?” Terrell asked while putting his meaty hand on my shoulder. My dick twitched from his touch. “Yeah, I’ve been looking forward to it!” “Good! And it looks like you kept that chest pump from yesterday!” Tony beamed as he put his hand on my pecs. My dick twitched again. I was in heaven. Terrell handed me some more pills and a bottle of liquid. “Before we begin, take these supplements and pre-workout. They’ll help you get a better workout and pump.” I happily swallowed the pills and washed them down with the drink. I could feel my body already getting pumped. “Good boy,” he said while patting me on my ass. We made our way to gym floor and started my training session. They stood on either side of me as I lifted, correcting my form as I went. Once again, their deep voices lulled me into a trance, my mind focusing only on lifting weight. I could feel my muscles swelling as the weight and intensity increased. Before I knew it, I had finished the session. My back and biceps were on fire. “Great job, Josh! Your back is looking yoked!” exclaimed Tony from behind me while putting his hands all over my back. He moved closer and I could feel a bulge press slightly into my backside. “Fuck, man, your guns are looking big!” cried Terrell from the front. “Let’s see them. Give us a double bi!” Hesitantly, I raised both my arms and flexed. They had never felt so swollen before. His eyes lit up as he moved closer to feel them. “Thatta boy!” he said squeezing my arms while gently pressing his pecs and bulge into me. I waivered and felt like I was about to pass out. “Easy there, Josh! You ok?” Terrell released my arms and held me by my waist. “Yeah, just a little wiped out from the workout.” I wiped the pouring sweat from my forehead. “Looks like you need to eat. Wanna grab a bite to eat with us?” Tony asked. “Uh, sure,” I replied, still unsteady from the intense workout. “I gotta shower first, though.” “No problem. We’ll wait for you by the front desk.” He patted me on my ass as I headed to the locker room. I quickly showered and got dressed. I was half expecting them to be gone when I came out, but there they were, still looking massive. I couldn’t believe my luck. We headed down the block to a small restaurant and found a booth to sit in. I sat on one side where Terrell joined me. Tony sat across from us. Both guys were so big, they couldn’t fit on one side together. Even with my much smaller build, Terrell still crowded me as his large arms sat against mine. My dick pitched a tent in my pants. After we perused the menu, the waiter came over and his eyes widened as he looked at Tony and Terrell. I could see his dick move in his pants. “Um, what’ll you guys have?” Looking at the menu, Terrell ordered. “I’ll have the whole chicken, two orders of rice, and two orders of steamed broccoli.” I gulped at the thought of eating that much food in one sitting. Tony chimed in, “Yeah, I’ll have the same.” “Wow, you guys are hungry!” the waiter marveled. “Well, you gotta eat to get big,” boasted Tony as he flexed a bicep. The waiter balked at the size of Tony’s arm. Then the waiter turned to look at me. “Um, I guess I’ll have…” Terrell interrupted. “Why don’t you start him out with half of what we ordered, and we’ll go from there.” I looked stunned. Why did he order for me? “All right, I’ll bring it out when it’s ready!” He turned and went to the kitchen, adjusting his pants along the way. I was about to speak up, when Terrell turned to me, his big, brown eyes boring a hole through me as he spoke. “I didn’t want you to lose any of the gains you made today, so I ordered you the best and healthiest option here. I hope you don’t mind?” All resistance faded in me as he said that. “I don’t mind. You know what’s best for building muscle,” I acquiesced. He smiled and patted my leg. “Good boy.” Tony rested his elbows on the table and leaned in, his arms flexing as he did so. “You did great today Josh. We think you have the potential to get big. That is, if you want to.” “Yeah, I do. I’ve always wanted to be big. But I’ve never been able to grow past a certain point.” “We can help you if you like. We’ve been looking for a boy to train and you have the determination, seriousness, and looks that we require. Would you like us to train you?” His arms flexed some more. My cock hardened and shifted in my pants. “Yeah, I’d love that, but I can’t afford trainers right now. I’m just a barista at a coffee shop!” They both laughed. “No, we don’t want your money! But, there are some things we would require from you.” The muscles on his big arms rippled, from his forearms to the top of his delts. I got a little lightheaded. “Like what?” I was excited about the prospect of training with them all the time and getting bigger. Terrell chimed in. “Well, you would have to do everything that we tell you to do. But, you’ve already proven that you can take direction, so that’s good.” He squeezed my leg with his hand, grazing the hardon in my pants as he did so. “And we would need to monitor your bodybuilding progress closely. Like making sure you eat and sleep enough, that you’re taking the right supplements, and taking proper care of your body.” I got even harder hearing Terrell say those words. I had always wanted someone to train me and make me bigger. “So that would require you moving in with us. We have a large brownstone where you would have your own room and privacy. It’s not that far from here.” My mouth dropped open. They wanted me to move in with them? I just met them yesterday! “Um, wow, that’s a lot to take in. I don’t know…” Tony reached under the table and grabbed my leg. “You can think about it. But we would pay for everything: room and board, food, and supplements. All you have to do is workout, cook and prep food, and grow. You wouldn’t have to work. We just want to make sure you grow as big as possible.” They were both looking at me and I didn’t know what to say. Could I just uproot my life and move in with these guys? But the idea was awfully tempting. I hated my job, I lived in a crappy apartment with a lousy roommate, and I always wanted to be big. Plus, I would get to spend time with two incredibly hot muscle daddies! “You know what, that actually sounds great to me. I’ll do it!” They both cheered. “Perfect, we can head over to our place right after we eat!” Terrell said just as the food arrived. We all dug in and happily devoured our meals. Part 3 is below
  2. My humble submission and new obsession. It’s my first original work and heavily influence by all the talent that has submitted over the year. I’m hoping I get more parts going asap. Sorry if the formatting is a little wonky. Superman and the Cole Twins Part 1 Clark walked into the new-ish campus gym and let the smells of sweat and chlorine wash over him. It was late but that was the best time to “work out”. Peace and quiet. The smells were one thing but the sounds of conversations, rubber and metal clanking together on top of the heartbeats and footfalls of the other students were too distracting for his performance here. His physique had absorbed solar radiation for over 20 years and it showed. At 6’1” and 225 pounds, he was a big guy. If you passed him on the street you would swear he was a bodybuilder, leading to the problem of a secret identity. If Clark Kent was going to get around in the world, he needed an excuse for his muscular frame. During High School, he could claim that his physique came from a regimented schedule of farming responsibilities and a home gym. Clark had now been in college in Indiana a couple of years and early on decided, as cover, he would “lift weights” and go through other motions that physical specimens of his caliber, were expected to be doing. He had played some football in High School but because of his abilities he felt that it wasn’t fair in such a competitive setting. College was supposed to ease him into more of an independent life before the obligations of his abilities overrode any sort of personal life. “Clark, buddy!” boomed Dave Cole. “Want to work in with us?” Dave stood over the bench where his brother Butch was pressing a rapid set of what Clark could see was maybe 225 pounds. He had overheard them frequently calling such light weights as their “warm up weight”. “Hey Dave, hey Butch. Maybe later, need to change.” Clark let his eye linger a little on the brothers as he made his way to the locker room. Butch had sat up on the bench and was looking down at his pumped chest. As he was putting on his jock strap and shorts and t-shirt, his mind was on the twin brothers. They were both around 6’2” and what Clark could guess was maybe 230-240 pounds each. When Clark had started college, the brothers were a year older than him and maybe an inch shorter. Within the last two years, they had grown to the point where they were practically as tall as Clark and wide to the point where their shoulders literally looked like boulders. The striations on their chest muscles were always clearly visible through some chest hair and whatever shirt or tank top they chose for the day. They looked like they were in competition shape, year round. Clark had overheard them joke before about their “dick skin” look. They were right, the brothers looked like they were just completely ripped. His x-ray vision was seeing their body heat actually be a little higher than what you would think about a normal human. These guys were always looking to get bigger and stronger, working with such an incredible discipline that you couldn’t help admire their dedication. His own Kryptonian DNA absorbed pure sunlight and his muscles were pumped with straining energy from daily exposures. He had never given much thought as he grew up around human beings that he was different from them. But after high school and now college, he was doubtful that without some type of true Super-level resistance training his body would be ‘stuck’ at its current development for a while. Although being able to lift a mountain was more than enough consolation for such concerns. Heading back out onto the main floor, he started jumping some rope to act like he was warming up. His senses were getting a bit of a break as the gym was empty except for two strong, slow heartbeats. He looked up and around to see if maybe the brothers were close by but they were at the squat rack with an enormous amount of weight. These guys were barely even breaking a sweat with 525 pound squats. He watched Dave easily control the weight as his ass touched the floor and pause as he brought the bar back up to his full height. Pumping out a set of 15, Dave racked the weight and Butch took his place. His massive quads and calves exploding as he performed a set as equally impressive as Dave’s. The guys were decked in string tank tops and a pair of shorts that were loose enough around their upper legs but tight enough when their asses went all the way to the floor in a squat that you could see the straps of their jocks. Dave had pulled one leg of his shorts up to his crotch and was flexing his massive legs in the mirror in front of him. When he looked up from his own reflection, he caught Clark staring. With a smirk, he pulled the other side of the shorts up as well against his huge crotch and flexed both quads and calves into what appeared to be diamond hard muscle, snaked with large veins over top. Butch racked his weight back and stood beside Dave, did the same thing and started comparing his massive legs to his brother’s. “You going to jump rope all day or you going to do some damage?” Butch smiled in the mirror at Clark, bunching up his shorts against his large crotch and shaking a leg and then flexing it to a full stop. “Man you guys are just huge. What’s your secret?” Clark walked over to the squat rack and put one hand on the cold metal plates. “Eat, eat, eat. Gotta feed these muscles,” Dave grinned as he swept both arms in a circular motion flexing, bending forward into a most muscular pose to where his traps exploded on either side of his huge veiny neck. Clark’s mouth must have dropped open because the brothers both chuckled. “Sorry, don’t mean to gawk. You guys are goals, you know that right?” With smiles on their faces, Dave playfully punched Butch in the pec. It didn’t move, it was like stone. The guys didn’t think of respecting physical space when they were talking about bodybuilding, they would show you the different muscle groups located where on your body or theirs; which muscles would be the focus of whatever exercise they were performing. Dave stepped over to Clark and pulled a side of his own shorts back up, “flex what you got buddy!” Caught up in the moment, Clark did the same, pulled a side of his shorts up and flexed his leg hard. “Jesus man, looking big!” Butch walked over to the other side of Clark and did the same, comparing the brother’s legs to his Kryptonian muscle. Before he could let his shorts fall back, Dave put a hand on Clark’s hairy leg, near the top of his quad and squeezed hard. Clark grinned and flexed a little harder, then noticed Dave’s hand was squeezing his leg. How was that possible? His leg was supposed to be like steel but it was clearly giving way under Dave’s strong grip. “You need a pump big guy” Butch said as the three of them looked back to the squat rack. “I think I’m going to have to drop a little of that weight before I get under it. You guys are on another level, y’know? “Hell buddy, you need to train with us every day. You could dwarf us, if we packed it on ya,” Butch said, looking Clark up and down. “Butch, leave the kid alone. Do you really want more competition?” Dave brought both arms up in front of him into a double bicep pose, the veins on top of the dense muscle fibers looking like raised rivers of power over and around the muscles. The biceps exploded from thick slabs on his arms to a peak that Clark shook his head at. “Fuck that Dave, keep testing me” Butch said with a grin as he brought both arms up on either side of his head, standing where he was holding one arm in front of Dave’s. Clark got swept up into the moment and hiked his straining sleeves up on his t-shirt, and copied the two men. Looking from his own mountain peak of striated bicep to theirs, both brothers leaned over in front of him and began their own comparisons. “It’s gotta be steroids, right, man?” Dave grinned at Clark. Keeping one arm up, he reached with the other and got ahold of Clark’s right bicep peak. Almost at the same time, Butch reached up with one hand and grabbed Clark’s left. As they both felt Clark’s bicep, his steel muscle was giving way to their grips, probing of his muscle density. “Ow, guys! You have got a helluva grip. Remind me never to piss you off.” Clark pulled away from the brothers who looked at each other and laughed. Butch slapped Clark on the back, almost knocking him forward, “Dude, we’re pussycats.” He winked as he adjusted himself with his other hand. Dave took some weight off the squat bar, “I think this is what you were working with last time” as he loaded about 360 pounds on the bar. “Thanks, I’m definitely not on you guys’ level. How much was that weight you were squatting Butch? A VW Bug?” “I wish Clark. That’s some Superman level shit right there. We’re going to go finish out with the Leg Press machine and some calf raises. Oh and abs.” Butch raised the bottom of his tank up about to his plated chest muscles. His eight pack was cut and solid, covered with large veins almost seeing to want to burst through the skin containing them. His adonis belt was cut and pointing down toward the heavy bulge below. It was completely shave, with bit of the trimmed chest hair just above. Like instinct, he put his left fist on that hip and tilted his long torso slightly to one side and raised the other arm, flexing it as if an offering to the gods. Clark smiled, “Mr. Universe, right here my friends…” he was looking around the empty room, trying to rally the crowd, pointing to Butch. Realizing Dave was right behind him, Clark turned to see him pressing the entire calf raise rack, with a 45 pound plate chained to his waist. Up and down, up and down. Over and over, veins straining over solid muscled, pumping them to an incredible size. At some point Clark realized he wasn’t counting the reps and couldn’t remember the last time he did, maybe around 45? Dave stopped, unhooking his belt and lowered the plate to the ground with a gentle thud. “I’m about done, Butch too, probably. Gonna hit the treadmill for a little cardio and then I think we’re doing the steam room if it’s still open. It can be pretty therapeutic for releasing toxins from your body and loosening muscles up after a good pump.” Dave grinned. “Gotta stay loose, right?” Clark felt his cheeks getting warm… was he blushing? What the hell is Superman doing blushing? “How can I refuse?” Turning back to the squat rack with a sheepish grin, Clark squared up and started squatting the bar, his 365 pounds, not going quite to the bottom and feigning a little effort throughout. In between sets he could see Butch and Dave, side by side on treadmills. Running. You would think these two large specimens would pound the treadmills at the pace they were going but no it was just an even, light ‘thud’. Every muscle in their body was rigid but pliable and moving at the same time. There was no flopping of large muscles, it was magnificent. Clark realized he was getting hard. He turned away and pulled at his shorts to try and reposition and hide his bulge. He sat at the leg extension facing away from the treadmills. Ok, he had to come to grips with something. These guys were sex incarnate. He and Lana fooled around in High School a little but he couldn’t truly have sex with her. He wouldn’t take that chance. When his powers fully manifested and he could go to unpopulated areas, his guilt-level for getting off was a lot lower. As long as no one was around. It was safer that way. But Kal El, the Superman, had other fantasies. He starting to have more control over his powers and he would be able to do certain things and still provide safety for those participating. While he first experimented with Lana, he still felt like an alien life form outside humanity. He could not keep himself isolated, he found all human genders incredibly erotic. Kryptonians and human beings were built almost identical on the outside, down to the sexes and their similar reproductive functions. But early on, Clark found that his super abilities had a heightening effect on his libido. Today the brothers had dialed that sensitivity up to ten thousand with just their presence. He had spoken with them and worked in sets with them maybe six or seven times over the two years he was here but his mind was always distracted by crises of the day or even just the future. Maybe his mature Kryptonian form had mating periods. There was so much knowledge lost, it’s all just fragments now, scattered. As soon as he thought he had spent a normal time working out, Clark finished up with legs and did some stretching; just happening be in view of the treadmills. They were walking at a medium pace, ‘cooling down’. Clark headed to the locker room, and as he got through the door he heard Dave call out, “hey buddy, hold the door?” The Cole twins strode in bare chested, tank tops in hand. Dave tapped an appreciative fist against Clark’s shoulder with a thunk as he walked by. Butch walked in scratching the trimmed hair on his chest. The locker room was a modern open area with lockers along the walls with sinks, mirrors and stacks of towels, and grooming stations on the walls facing the lockers. There was a door to the showers, a door to the steam room and a door to the pool. Both the steam room and the pool had signs they were closed. Going down the short hall to the steam room, Dave opened the unlocked door to test it and then fiddled with the controls on the wall outside. “Give that about 10 minutes and it should be steam time. Tricks of the gym trade,” Dave chuckled. Clark’s locker was a ways down from the guys. He peeled off his t-shirt and used it to wipe imaginary sweat off his dark hairy arm pits, then up and down his torso. He felt pretty proud of his own build. Thick pecs, dark perfect chest hair, covering his six pack abs, with a clear adonis belt of his own. His shoulders and arms were large with veins running down each bicep and forearms. His legs were hairy, big and defined with concrete calves. He turned and went to grab a couple of towels from the sinks and realized that Dave and Butch had pulled off their shorts and were posing in the mirror close by. Concentrating, Clark tried to distinguish differences in their builds. Their bodies were near identical. They had similar hairstyles, brown hair brushed over to the same side, neatly trimmed with a tight fade at the bottom. Dave and Butch both had neatly trimmed brown chest hair with shave abs. Their forearms had trimmed brown hair as well. Their legs were completely shaved, accentuating their physiques. They each wore a large black cotton jockstrap that pulled their cocks down by their balls very tight. Across the elastic band was written “Addicted” in yellow on both. As if in unison, both stepped forward on the same foot towards the mirror into a most muscular pose. Their traps exploded on top of their shoulders into powerful backs. Their reflection in the mirror of their fronts was ungodly. It was easy to just stand there and stare. He looked up and they were watching him, grinning. He stripped his own shorts off, threw them on the bench beside his t-shirt and walked over to them in his own solid red jock. He had adjusted himself before he turned and now he felt his cock wanting to strain against the fabric but he kept it under excruciating control. Butch pulled at the front of his jock, trying to adjust himself. “Damn, this thing is distracting.” Clark wondered if he meant the jock or his semi monstrous erection. Then he realized that it was just soft. “Idea!” Dave strode back down the hall, taking the ‘Closed’ sign from the pool door. He affixed it on the outside of the men’s locker room door. When he came back in, he turned the lock on the door. He knew the staff person on duty: Deena. “She’s a nice chick but she could care less about rounds or even who was here. Plus no one is coming in at this hour.” Dave looked at Butch first then met Clark’s gaze. “Looks like we can let the beasts out of the cage.” As Dave was speaking, Butch was pulling his jock down taking it off completely and tossing it on their gym bags. Butch pulled at his meat a couple of times, to air it out from being stuck to his heavy balls and then let it hang. Dave was more deliberate. He pulled the band down and rolled it over so the “Addicted” was upside down and the colors were reversed. He turned and flexed his glutes, stretching the waistband down over his ass. Clark caught a glimpse of Dave’s tanned hole, “My god,” he had to keep himself from whispering and hope that he didn’t actually. With a grin, Dave turned and pulled his jock over his legs and out each foot. He looked like he was flexing every muscle in his body. His cock hung there, thick and heavy. He wasn’t hard, either. Clark then realized Dave wasn’t flexing. His body was just a solid mass of power. Butch went into a side chest post, with his raised leg side facing them. Dave shook Clark’s shoulder seeming to almost wake him from a daze. “C’mon buddy, let’s hit it!” The mirror showed three massive muscle men hitting perfect forms. Clark flexed as hard as he could, almost shaking with forcing his muscles to their most pumped. The Cole twins looked relaxed, as if this was no exertion. Putting his hands on his hips and spreading his lats to their widest, Butch signaled the next flex. Dave and Clark followed with their own. Clark’s spread was definitely not as wide as theirs. These men were dwarfing Superman but it helped that he was humble and not so proud to admit they were sex gods. “Maybe I do need some help in the training department.” Clark grinned and turned to face them. “Dude you are jacked. Do not let anyone tell you different.” Butch put a hand on Clark’s shoulder and gave a slight squeeze. “Are you doing any fitness modeling? Camming? Onlyfans bullshit?” he grinned. “Naw brother! Clark’s a kept man! You don’t look like that and pay for jack shit.” Dave couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. “Buddy we are just pulling your chain. You do you. As long as you look like that doing it!” Did Butch’s cock just twitch? Clark thought, “that grin he’s giving me, it’s like the friendliest version of the cat who could eat the canary.” They stared at him for a little too long and then looked at each other and nodded. “Fellas, I do believe our steam room is ready.” Dave bowed and pointed down the hall. “Grab your towels and let’s loosen up.” Clark pulled down his jock and grabbed a towel. A whistle came from behind him. “Jesus christ, man. You’re packing,” Dave beamed at him. “That’s nice of you but I gotta say you guys have got to be popular with all the ladies,” making a cheesy ‘hubba hubba’ gesture with one hand. Butch looked at Dave and doubled over into laughter, his soft monster cock flopping a little as he slowly got his chuckles under control. “He’s really a boy scout, ain’t he?” slapping Dave on his massive pec. All three men strode down the hall and went into the steam room. It was a smaller area, with a tile bench attached to the wall in an ‘L’ shape. Steam was flowing from the floor and the room was hot. Spreading a towel out to sit on, Clark sat down in the back area, facing the door. Dave and Butch sat on either side of him, kind of close. “Buddy, we’re popular with all types. Guys, gals, you name it. Ok, well not the animal kingdom, that’s a little too messed up.” Butch put a hand on Clarks knee and gave it a squeeze. “But dude, you’re extraordinary.” Dave put a hand on Clarks other leg. “You were kind of giving us ‘fuck me’ eyes out on the gym floor.” Butch leaned in and kissed Clark hard, forcing his tongue into his mouth, he wrapped on hand behind his head, pulling him in. For a second Clark tried to resist but Butch flexed his bicep in front of his face, pulled hard on his head and said “Kiss it!” His tone meant he was not to be denied. Clark realized he couldn’t move his head. Butch’s huge hand had the back of his neck and squeezed a warning, moving him closer to his huge arm. When he reached up to grab the arm with one hand to steady himself, Butch pulled his head away from his arm and spit into Clark’s mouth and then pulled his head up to his, kissing him, Butch’s probing tongue was playful, an intimacy Clark had never encountered. His cock swelled up rock hard and slapped his hairy abs. “Ohhhh” he moaned until Butch engulfed his mouth in his own again. At the same time, a mouth closed around his thick uncut cock. Every muscle in his body tensed and pleasure raced from the head of his cock up his spine. In the back of his mind he realized that if Dave kept his mouth on his cock for too long, he might kill him when he cums. He started to push Dave’s head away as Dave took him completely in his mouth. Clark was eight inches fully hard, thick as hell. This new sensation had his cock more swelled and throbbing than he thought was possible. Dave’s lips slid back up the full length to the tip of his foreskin, the suction was incredible. He slowly started again, pushing Clark’s foreskin down below his flaring head while taking the whole length into his mouth again. He could feel every movement of Dave’s tongue, every flexing of his throat muscles. He reached up to push Dave off his cock, he felt like he could explode at any moment. He started to panic, he was going to kill this god of a man. Dave grabbed the wrist of his arm on his side and pulled it over to his lap, where his soft cock started to thicken. “No, no, no, no,” muffled cries of ecstacy as Butch was kissing him. He tried to reach up again to push off Dave with his opposite arm and Butch grabbed that wrist, pulling his hand down to feel his massive, hard cock. He wrapped Clark’s hand around his girth, his hand wasn’t big enough to wrap around it but Butch’s was. He looked down from the massive neck, down the furry pecs that were striated beyond belief, down the eight pack, to the monster cock he now had in his hand. His face contorted into fear and pleasure, he whispered “Oh no!” and filled Dave’s mouth with ejaculate until it filled his mouth and kept going. “Dude, it’s ok. We have that effect on people a lot!” Butch grinned, standing up in front of Clark, his foot-long cock fully hard and inches away from Clark’s face, “now it’s your turn.” Panicked, Clark looked down at Dave expecting to see a dead man. Nope. Dave seemed to be eagerly cleaning up every bit of Clark’s load. Dave wasn’t dead. Clark’s orgasm didn’t kill him. ‘What the fuck?! You mean I could have been fucking this whole time?!?!’ A frustrated look of confusion must have crossed his face. *Wham!* *Wham!* Butch was using his cock like a battering ram, smacking the side of Clark’s head. He looked up and Butch gave an evil grin. “He doesn’t like it when you keep him waiting.” Clark took the huge cock in both hands and pulled the foreskin back, exposing a massive throbbing head shaped like a battering ram. Butch thrust his hips forward, pushing more of his cock between Clark’s hands. As he somehow fit the head in his mouth, he began to work his tongue and suction gently taking it slowly so his abilities wouldn’t hurt him. “C’mon man, I’m not made of glass” punching Clark in the side of the head with one large fist. “Open up, give me what you got.” Clark was seeing stars for a second. He felt that. In a big way. Slam! “Open. Up” and with an “Ahhhhhh” Butch’s cock was all the way down Clark’s throat. His eyes were bulging, unable to believe the size of it. Before he could recover, Butch pulled out fully with a ‘pop!’ and stepped up onto the tile bench. Dave indicated for him to get to his feet and Butch’s cock was face level with him and he reached up and grabbed it with both hands. He wanted to worship it, treat it like the rare thing it is. He looked up at Butch who had one hand on the ceiling, striking an almost Olympia style pose. *Wham!* *Wham!* Stars again “Don’t keep me waiting, kid, else you won’t be getting just a love tap.” Butch folded his arms over his chest and looked down at Clark. With no hesitation he took all of Butch in his mouth in one stroke, two strokes, all the way in and all the way out. With a shudder, Butch reached down and grabbed Clarks head in his hands and started slowly pumping. Reaching up to feel the abs, the furry chest, a pair of fingers started gently pulling, probing Clark’s ass checks from behind. Butch started speeding up the strokes in and out of his mouth and let out a low growl. At the same time, Clark tried to clinch his cheeks together. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for this next step. Dave reached around and found Clark’s cock was rock hard again. Dave’s bicep flexed against his hip, and his other arm reached around and started pulling at Clark’s balls, gently massaging them. He flexed his bicep on the other side of Clark’s hip, holding him steady. Clark’s ass unclenched after a couple of strong strokes down his throat and Dave’s tongue found an opening in his ass. Diving into the warm, superhero muscle ass, his tongue reached the hole and began to gently, then harder, penetrate. Clark tried clenching it shut but between the massive cock using his mouth and throat like a piston , and Dave’s hard tongue firmly pressing into ass, and the strongest arms he can remember holding his hips, and huge hands squeezing his cock stroking it into unprecedented size…. Dave released him and stood up. Butch sat down on the bench, his behemoth laying against his hard abs and chest. Dave put his hands on Clark’s hips and guided him forward into Butch’s grasp. He reached up and grabbed the back of Clark’s neck and in one motion forced him down into his lap, his face resting between the erect cock standing up and the heavy balls laying across massive quads. “Mpphmph” as Butch grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Dave’s tongue disappeared and was replaced by the head of Dave’s massive cock resting on his back, just above his crack. A shudder went down his spine and Butch pushed his cock back into Clark’s mouth and again grabbed his head with both hands and began to pump his hips and use his hands to hold Clark’s head in position. Dave’s cock was generating so much heat and it was heavy laying on his ass. He began to pump his cock up and down along his crack, each time sliding a little lower until…. “Mapphphh!” Butch pulled Clarks head completely down on his cock at the same time Dave’s head popped into Clark’s hole. His eye started watering, bulging. Butch slowly returned to fucking his face. “Jesus, Dave I almost shot my load when he clinched, well, everything” “Dude, I’m not sure I can get it in any more. It’s so tight and it feels like there’s a wall.” Dave’s own identical battering ram shaped cock head sat just inside Clark’s hole, throbbing. *Wham!* *Wham!* *Wham!* Butch had released his right hand and immediately gave two punches to the side of Clark’s head and followed those up with a knee into his diaphragm. Making a choking sound, Clark almost went limp. He didn’t have strength to mount any resistance and Dave pushed a good five inches of his rod into his ass. Butch had hold of Clark’s head again, and with a “Yesss”, he pushed as deep as he could go into his throat. “Ahhh, that’s about six inches in, feels like you’re taking a beer-can I bet… ohhh yeah….that’s right squeeze a little tighter, just gonna make me harder…this ass HAS to be virgin… it’s soooo tight, feel me stroking in and out right now? You just took a couple more inches… Butch is he cryin’ yet? Don’t wanna hurt the big guy….ohh you’re grabbing my cock so tight, relax some… otherwise it’ll just be like a cock ring, swelling my beast up.. shit buddy, we’re getting close to finding the end of the tunnel…” Dave let out of low “yeeeeahhhhhhhhh” as he slid in the last, thickest part into Clark’s hole. He slapped Clark’s ass with one hand, sending a ripple across the dense muscle. Dave’s muscles in his lower abdomen pressed up firm against his ass checks, mashing them, making sure every bit of his cock was inside his hole. Clark felt like his insides were being split open. Dave’s cock was getting bigger inside him. He tried to relax and breathe but Butch had picked up the pace and was now forcing his own massive cock down Clark’s throat, intent on each stroke being more powerful than the last. His hands moved from the sides to the top and bottom of Clark’s head, yanking his jaw when he could. “Fuck man, every time you stroke he clenches, I ain’t gonna hold it for long!” Dave withdrew his cock in one stroke with a loud sigh from Clark, then stuck his face into Clark’s ass mashing the cheeks apart, sticking his tongue about an inch inside. Butch pulled his mammoth cock out of Clark’s mouth, looked at him and spit into his slack mouth. Tears had been streaming down his face and saliva was thick and drooling from his chin. “Hey Dave, I think he likes it” “We don’t want him broken, Butch, so let’s get a little creative.” The Colossus sized brothers stood and lifted Clark to his feet. Butch turned Clark to face Dave and suddenly put him in a full nelson. Clark tried to break free. Butch’s arms wrapped around the back of his neck and pushed his head down. His massive chest pushed into his back, his arms were pushed straight up, Butch was going to dislocate his shoulders! At the last second, Butch eased off. Clark was in a daze, he was being manhandled by two of the most powerful humans he’d ever met. “Hey kid, daydream on your own time!” Butch pulled him up, this time lifting him off the ground in the same full nelson hold. He could feel Butch’s cock burning against his ass, pulsing with that same slow heartbeat. Butch pulled his hips back and the monster slid down his ass until he could feel the thick tip find the spot underneath the ass and start pushing. Clark’s initial reaction was to resist, to hold his legs together. “Aw man, you’re gonna drive me nuts acting like you don’t want this,” and Butch pushed his cock through, under Clark’s balls. He could feel it throbbing between his legs, Butch was battering further until he felt Clark’s soft ass mash against his unstoppable muscle. Clark looked down when Dave did. Butch’s cock had pushed Kryptonian muscle apart like they were nothing. It was standing straight ahead, throbbing, powerful. Dave grinned and lined up Clark’s once impressive cock on top of Butch’s, pushing both balls to either side of the massive meat Clark was now riding. Butch leaned back some, raising Clark farther off the ground to where his back and legs were pressed against almost all of him. “You feel that, don’t you kid… I could probably hold you up with my monster just by itself, like you were sitting on one of the most powerful steel beams in the world… yeah, we ARE that strong… you’re just getting a little taste of it now…. are you going to be able to handle more?” His own proud cock was about to burst it was so hard. Dave put a hand around both Clark’s and Butch’s cocks, and then lay his cock over Clark’s. Butch began to pump behind him and he let him lean back into the unmoving wall of muscle. Dave’s monster really brought into contrast how much bigger they both were than Superman. In every way. His legs were swept up under each of Dave’s arm. He was now suspended against Butch behind and Dave up front. “Little help?” Dave grinned and made his cock jump. It slapped against the bottom of his ass once, twice, the third time it pressed against Clark’s hole. Butch felt some resistance and pushed down on his nelson hold when Dave nodded and in a swift motion pushed up with his hips and down on his arms, demolishing the once resistant hole, pushing all the way in. Clark’s resistance was shattered. His ass was on fire. Dave began stroking, ten, nine, eight inches to go, seven, six, at five inches he would flex his cock, swelling it up and smashing his way back in to the hilt. His insides were sore, Dave picked up the pace and his strokes got even longer. ‘Why is my invulnerability not protecting me?’ Clark had little time to figure it out. “Yeah buddy, yeah, still tight… think we got a virgin hole tonight Butch… you really need to get in on this…” Dave pumped faster and faster. Butch switched from holding Clark in a full nelson to slinging one of Clark’s arms around Butch’s neck and holding up Clark with one hand under his ass. He could feel Butch stroking his meat with his other arm underneath his back, smacking it against his spine. With a growl, Dave started pumping so fast Clark almost passed out. Clark opened his eyes and Dave roared, pushing in all the way. He was held here, spasm after spasm of Dave’s cock unleashed what felt like a flood in his insides. His orgasm lasted about 30 seconds, pulse after pulse, cum started pouring out around the hilt of still massively erect cock. Clark started flexing his ass as best he could and Dave jerked his head up to look at him in shock, “fuck man, it’s never going down if you keep doing that.” Butch wrapped a huge arm around Clark and with the other under his ass, lifted him off Dave’s cock. It felt to Clark like Dave would never slide out of him and when Butch lifted him up, he pulled him off Dave’s pipe with a pop and a flood of cum. “Bro, your cock is still leaking and you left all that inside him?” Dave grinned “and you thought his mouth was good…” Butch set Clark down on wobbly legs. He playfully slapped him in the face to bring him around. “Hey, no tapping out now buddy! Dave and I are into sharing!” Butch pulled Clark close to him, wrapping his arms around him. He started assaulting Clark’s mouth. “Fuck you are a good kisser!” Clark reached up and wrapped his arms around Butch’s neck. Butch pulled Clark’s body into him tighter. Every inch of Butch that pressed against Clark seemed like the hardest thing he’s ever felt. He pulled one hand around and started feeling Butch’s chest. With what seemed like little effort, Clark’s feet were again off the ground. Butch used his legs to pry Clark’s apart and with one hand still bearhugging him, he pulled one of Clark’s legs up toward his quad. Clark took the hint and moved the other leg so that Butch could lean back and get underneath his ass with his mammoth tool and still be able to keep one arm free. Clark was almost shaking in anticipation. As far as he could tell the brothers had identical cocks but with Butch kissing him, roughing him up, stretching his throat out, he felt like this was the main event of the night. He looked straight into Butch’s eyes and nodded. “Yeeeeah, let’s see what all the fuss is over this not-so-virgin hole. You ready for me muscle boy?” Dave stood behind him and lined up Butch’s cock against Clark’s asshole. Butch slowly started letting Clark slide down his body. “Fuck boy, your ass keeps pulsing against my cock like that and it’s never going to fit.” Butch adjusted his one arm bearhug to let Clark lean back out away from him and squatted down a little with his legs, spreading Clark’s legs out wider as well. With one swift motion, he jerked Clark down on his cock about three inches. His response was to try and climb Butch to pull himself off another massive tool that was invading his insides. “Hey Dave, check this out.” With one arm, Butch leaned Clark back, grabbing the cock that had been squashed between Clark and his muscle. With the other massive arm still supporting Clark’s lower back, Butch used Clark’s cock as push point, jerking it up and down. Clark began to groan and push at Butch’s hand. Feeling his ass pulsing, Butch slammed the rest of his herculean cock all the way home. “Yeeeaaaahhhh, Dave, I don’t think you stretched him out enough.” Clark’s first instinct was to try pushing himself up and to climb Butch’s massive form. Butch responded by using his free arm to reach under Clark’s ankle, pulling it up over his shoulder and spreading Clark’s ass even farther apart. “Grab my neck and hang on kid.” Leaning back so he was supporting most of Clark’s weight, changing the center of gravity had the effect of pressing Clark’s hole all the way to Butch’s steely pelvic bone. “Gimme that other leg,” flipping the other ankle up over the other shoulder. Clark was pressed hard up against Butch who was standing, leaning slightly back so he was supporting all of the weight. Clark’s arms were slung around his neck. Butch had both of his pythons locked around Clark’s lower back. Dave sat down and admired the sight, his cock standing at full attention once again, slowly jerking it up and down while he watched Butch long stroke his perfect cock in and out of the most perfect ass. “We are stretching that hole out tonight, aren’t we boy? You like taking massive muscle cock?” Clark looked scared but said “Yes sir”. Butch invaded Clarks mouth, biting his lip, fucking his mouth with his tongue as soon as he said “sir”. He was moving his cock in and out of Clark’s ass so fast it was burning. His hands moved down from his lower back to Clark’s ass. Each hand had a solid hold on each cheek, almost pulling at the muscle, deforming it with his grip. Clark let out a little yelp and Butch stopped stoking and left his cock fully inside again. “Did I hurt your ass?” He began massaging it while his monster cock’s pulse was slow and steady. Clark could feel almost every vein and he could feel the shape of the battering ram-type head deep in his gut. He realized that Butch had let go of him, that he was hanging off a mountain of muscle impaled on the most perfect cock he’d ever seen. He shook his head no and grinned. “Ohhh, being a little playful huh. I’ve been gentle so far but we can turn the dial up a couple of notches.” “Butch, hey, we don’t wanna break him on his first night,” Dave grinned at his brother. The whole time, Butch started slowly lifting Clark up off his cock and then lowering him back down. Foot long strokes. He was handling Clark’s massive 6’1” 225 pound body like he weighed nothing. Clark’s cock was being rubbed up and down the massive chest and washboard abs. The sensation was incredible, he could feel every ridge and valley. “I could fuck your hole all night… you thought you had a big dick but now you’re learning what big is… feel that stroke… my monster filling up your insides… I knew you could take it… yeah, love your hairy legs…” Butch rubbed his face over one of Clark’s calves. He stopped lifting Clark up vertically and, leaning forward, bent almost all the way over to switch to horizontal strokes so Clark was almost hanging off his neck. He started long stroking back and forth, each time pounding Clark’s hard cock against his massive body. “Every time I go all the way in your whole cunt spasms… can you feel me swellin’… soon it’s gonna be filling your insides with Butch’s cum… then you’re Butch’s bitch… oh that hole is getting tight, or is that me? Hehehe, yeah that’s all me. Dave may be big… But ain’t nobody is big as Butch!” With that his whole body flexed and Butch’s cock popped out and sprayed Clark and Dave with a massive amount of cum. Butch dropped Clark onto his feet so fast and pushed him to his knees it made Clark’s head spin. Still spurting cum, Butch forced open Clark’s jaws and slammed his cock home, Still thrusting his pelvis. “DRINK IT!” Butch yelled as it started pouring out of Clark’s mouth and nose. Butch pushed all the way in one last time with a “Fuck yeah!” Clark still felt the massive cock draining itself of cum. He did what he could until he was sure Butch’s beast was finished. When he let go of Clark’s jaw and pulled himself out of his mouth, he stroked it and smeared out what was left onto Clark’s face. “I just improved your looks tenfold” Dave and Butch broke out into laughter, and Clark did too after a few seconds, looking up at the massive brothers. “Here buddy, let me help you up, can you stand?” Dave lifted him up and set him on his feet. “Thanks, yeah, I’m ok” Clark’s ass was on fire but his mind was all over the place. What just happened? He was Superman. The strongest being on Earth. But these guys manhandled him like he was just some guy. What was the explanation? They hardly broke a sweat lifting or running. Their heartbeats were really slow but they seem to have a higher temperature than regular people, did they have a Meta gene? Most concerning of all is that he seemed to be no match in the strength department with these guys. He had been worried that any sexual activity Clark would engage in would result in harm or death for normal people. But there seemed to be no such danger with Butch and Dave. He didn’t sense any kryptonite around, no strange feeling when being subjected to magic, or red solar rays. He had to find out. “Fellas, it’s time to hit the showers” Butch signaled that he was done for the night, playfully popping Clark on the butt with the towel. “Get going kid” They turned on a few shower heads in the public shower and Clark realized he was covered with cum, inside and out. “Jeez, is that amount of cum normal for you guys?” Washing his big balls and cock Dave said, “We just got off this morning and you’re lucky we did” “I could fuck that hole again right this second, dude,” he gave Clark and intense look, “if we get pent up for too long, we start getting a little short with each other. We have to do it at least once a day. But hey, if you’re a twin you’re automatically a narcissist so getting off to yourself is more like masturbation. And if you look like us, we could have fuck toys lined up out the door waiting. But we’re a little too much, too strong for the common folk.” “That’s an understatement. How the hell did you guys get so strong? Steroids?” Clark probed “Yeah, we run cycles and it does help. You wanna try one? Get big like us?” Dave’s face lit up. “No one’s like us,” Butch’s body was gleaming from the shower and steam as he flexed into a double bicep. Clark could swear his arms looked even bigger. “No one,” Dave agreed hitting his own double bicep pose. Clark was definitely convinced both of them looked bigger. “Like I said, goals.” Clark lathered up and began to wash. Both muscle men came over and started helping him wash. Their massive hands ran all over his body, touching, squeezing his muscles. Clark started to get hard at their touch, feeling their unyielding bodies pressed against him while the water ran over them. Dave rubbed soap over his crack and lower back to scrub and Clark’s cock came to attention. Butch looked over at Dave and whistled, “he does have a nice one.” He grabbed it and started stroking it. Clark felt something hard against his ass. Dave and Butch stood in front of Clark as all three stroked their cocks. Clark put a hand on Butch’s chest, who flexed it and made it roll up and down. Butch still had Clark’s cock and was roughly stroking it. The brothers held their cocks out, comparing to each other. Butch pulled Clark closer to them and they compared Clark’s to theirs. It made their cocks surge, getting larger and larger. Laying Clark’s cock on top of theirs, Butch said, “I bet no one’s ever called you ‘lil guy’ before. You’re prolly in the only company that ever could.” Dave stroked his cock, shaking his head slowly. “Clark, pal, don’t take offense. No one except maybe Superman could even compare to us.” Butch laughed, stoking his own monster, “that guy probably fucks. He’s the only one I’d let take my ass. It takes a Superman to tame this muscle!” Releasing his cock, he turned and hit a rear double biceps pose. His back looked like muscle on mound of muscle. Clark shuddered, “oh fuuuck” and with that shot a load all over Butch’s naked backside. Butch spun back around and with a wicked gleam said, “Dave, I don’t think we’re done here just yet.” Before Dave could speak, Butch grabbed Clark by the arm, flipped him around facing the shower wall. He was stroking his bloated cock up and down across the crack of Clark’s ass and one massive arm pressing Clark face first against the wall. “I’m not sure you figured out your place, boy, but I’m going to remind you.” With that Butch once again sunk his blood surged cock to the hilt inside Clark. Pressed against the wall, his own cock hadn’t gone down from just cumming. Butch pushed down on Clark’s hip with the one hand, making his ass arch out. He started piston fucking Clark, placing his free hand around the back of his neck. “Oh you think I want your fucking cum all over me? You don’t know cum… I’m gonna pump you full, load # 3 today is gonna be a flood….feel my veiny muscle cock railing you? Feel that power… I got you with one hand… your leg press is what I curl… yeah, it’s almost there…” Butch kicked Clark’s legs farther apart, leaning more on Clark’s lower back to gain more momentum. “Yeah my little muscle bitch, Butch’s muscle bitch… we shoulda laid some ground rules… first rule is You ”<thrust> ”can’t” <thrust> ”compete” <thrust> ”with” <thrust> ”us!” <thrust> “….yeah, just gonna leave it parked in there for a minute… feel me flexing it, ripping your insides up… “ Butch reached around Clark’s narrow waist and seized his cock in a tight grasp. “fuck yourself on my dick… it's ok, you know you’re starting to crave it… I’m just going to hit a pose or two… don’t worry you ain’t budging me from this spot…” Clark started rocking back and forth on Butch’s cock, each pivot Butch’s hand squeezed Clark’s cock so that he was being fucked by Butch while fucking Butch’s hand. He let out an “ohh fuuuuck” as he quickly picked up the pace as Butch hit a double bi pose and locked it there. Clark was slamming against Butch but it was like fucking yourself on a horse cocked wall. Butch’s hand tightened his grip and he broke his pose to whisper in Clark’s ear “Here comes another muscle load,” and pushed Clark against the wall, mercilessly pounding his hole after releasing Clark’s cock. He was pushing him so hard against the wall, the tile started cracking. Pushing Clark’s head against the wall cracking the tiles in a head shape, Butch slammed him so hard Clark’s cock was smashed against the wall. “Yeaaahhhhh, fuuuuuck!” Butch held his cock deep inside and Clark was trapped between muscle he couldn’t comprehend and the cracking wall. With that final push he felt Butch’s cum start gushing into his insides. It sprayed out like a waterfall as Butch continued his primal grunts, his cock pulsing wave after wave of cum. His arm braced against Clark’s back he leaned in again and whispered, “that’s some real super muscles I got there… you love ‘em… especially the strongest <cock flex> muscle <cock flex> of all <cock flex>” Butch stood there still deep inside Clark, water trying to wash away the stream of cum that was still coming out of Clark’s ass. Butch’s cock was still hard, he could still feel a stream still emptying out inside his fuck toy. Clark realized he had blown another load when his Butch was grinding him against the wall, he hadn’t been touching himself, Butch had been hitting a spot like a human prostate except it was farther up inside a Kryptonian’s anatomy. Pushing himself away from the wall, Butch and Dave broke out into laughter. “Kid, you just survived getting smashed” Butch grinned and pointed to the outline shape of the broken tile. You could even see the spot where Clark’s cock was driven into the wall orgasmed. “Fuck it’s late, we need to get home and get some sleep,” Dave scratched his balls absently, signaling that tonight was over. It was pretty quiet as everyone finished cleaning and drying off. As they got dressed and started walking through the gym to the exit. Dave turned and got a little serious. “Did we scare you off buddy?” Dave put a hand on Clark’s shoulder and gave a little squeeze. Clark winced at how hard the squeeze was. These guys definitely had to be supers. “No sirree bob. When’s more?” Clark said with as much Midwestern charm as possible. ‘I have to figure these guys out, the sooner the better,’ Clark thought to himself. “How about tomorrow night, same time,” Butch winked at him and smiled. “We’re doing a heavy chest workout if you think you can keep up. We don’t want to overdo it. Building these muscles takes a little time.” Grinning he pulled a bicep up and flexed it hard. “You do like these don’t cha, your mouth is open again…” and he laughed. Clark blushed again, twice in one night! “Can’t wait to be just as big!” Dave and Butch started towards the exit. By the time they got to the car they had huge smiles on their faces. “Do you think he’ll figure it out?” Dave looked out into the night sky “By the time he does it’ll be waaayyy too late.” Butch started laughing. The thought made his monster cock swell and he pulled at the jock to readjust.
  3. NewGuy71

    m/m His Now

    Hey guys, I've been a long time lurker on this site, but this is my first time posting something. Hope you all enjoy! His Now "Broooo... are you sure you have to go?" Kyle Harding whined at his older brother in front of the Departures gate. Thankfully, his classes had ended early today and he'd been able to make it just in time to see his brother off at the airport. Brad just chuckled amusedly. "Dude, I've been working super hard this year just so I could place at competition, you know that." The younger Harding pouted up the brown-haired man and sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know... It's just... I'm gonna miss ya, bro." The older man's eyes softened. He patted Kyle's head, gently running his fingers through the younger's golden locks. "It'll just be a few weeks. I'll be back before you know it!" Brad reassured him. Kyle nodded and gave his brother more cheerful grin. "Yeah! I'm sure you'll kick ass too!" he crowed. Brad grinned widely and flexed with a front double bicep pose. His favorite grey muscle tee barely held itself together as it stretched tight around Brad's impressive arms. "Fuck yeah, man! You know it!" he responded cockily. The 24-year-old bodybuilder had put on 20 pounds of muscle in the last year, bringing him from a solid 226 to a whopping 246 pounds of muscle since last year's competition. Brad swooped in and pulled his younger brother into a tight hug. "But I am gonna miss ya..." he whispered in the smaller boy's ear. Kyle hugged him back as tight as he could, allowing himself a moment to just bask in his older brother's comforting scent. Ever since their mom had passed away a few years ago, the men of the Harding family had bonded more closely than ever. Maybe a bit too close if you believed some the rumors of the Harding brothers, but few would ever say so in earshot of either. The younger Harding groaned inwardly, feeling a twitch in his groin, and quickly pulled back with a red face. "Brad, you should go! You still have to get through carry on inspections!" he reminded the bigger man. The older brother just laughed as he turned toward the gate to get in line. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going." he said with a grin, "Take care of dad for me, okay?" Kyle just nodded, though he wondered why their dad hadn't come along to say goodbye himself. He had just dropped out at the last minute, saying something had come up and he wouldn't be able to make it. The blond Harding wiped the frown off his face and enthusiastically waved to his brother as the line started moving. "See ya, Brad! Good luck at the competition! Take care!" he shouted. Brad waved back just before turning a corner and heading around a wall, quickly moving out of sight. Kyle's waving hand slowed to a stop, and he watched for a moment as more and more people arrived at the Departures gate: a young lovely-dovey couple excited for their honeymoon trip, an older couple reminding their increasingly irritated son about all the things that needed caring for in the house, a pair of twin girls saying goodbye to their father... Kyle shook his head in aggravation. What exactly was so important that his dad couldn't come and say goodbye to Brad before he left for his competition? He sighed to himself as he turned and made his way back to the parking lot. Kyle narrowed his eyes as he spotted his dad's car parked in the driveway. His father was clearly home right now, so why hadn't he come to the airport to send off his oldest child? The young man parked his car on an open sidewalk and walked to the house. He went to use his key, only to find the front door unlocked. He stared as the door slowly swung open. "What the..." he murmured, a spike of dread shooting down his spine. Kyle stepped inside and locked the door behind himself. "Dad! You in here?" he called out in a loud voice. Not hearing a response, Kyle moved deeper into the house until he heard a loud thump from upstairs. His lips drew into a thin line as he quietly reached out to grab a poker from the fireplace. "D-dad? Was that you?" he called out again from the bottom of the stairs. Once again, there was no response. Steeling himself, the youngest Harding slowly crept up the stairs and into the empty hallway. Looking around, he didn't see anything out of place. There hadn't been any signs of a struggle or robbery downstairs either. Suddenly, he heard a soft, pained moan from down the hallway. It seemed to be coming from his father's room. Thinking the worst, Kyle dashed down the hallway and through the door wide open. "Dad! Are you alrig-" he stopped as his jaw hit the floor. There, on the bed, was his 40-year-old father on all fours being railed from behind by a guy clearly half his age. Kyle face bloomed scarlet as he took in the scene, his father moaning not in pain, but clearly in pleasure. "Ohh... fuck... harder...!" the Harding patriarch moaned as the other man obliged him. "Fuck you're hot, Mr. Harding! Unf... and you're so fucking tight!" the younger man moaned from behind. Kyle gasped, his eyes lighting up with recognition at the voice. It was Mike Hayes from his English Lit class! He and Mike shared some classes at Gold State University, but they weren't really friends. Mike wasn't a big guy, he and Kyle were pretty much the same size, but with his bright green eyes and handsome, pretty-boy face, he was quite popular. Kyle didn't like him very much, especially his rather arrogant my-way-or-the-highway attitude. But that still didn't explain what Mike was doing here or why he was having sex with Kyle's father. "D-dad! What the fuck?!" the blond screeched. Jake Harding's eyes shot to the doorway, as if noticing his son for the first time. "Kyle! W-what are you-ugh... d-doing here?" he grunted through his own moans. Mike just gave Kyle his usual smirk, undeterred by an audience. "Give us a moment, kid." he said as he pounded the older man, "You can have him back once I'm done." Kyle stumbled backwards before turning and fleeing out the door. He ran to his room, shutting it behind him as he slumped to the floor. "What the fuck..." he groaned. Did his dad really skip out on saying goodbye to Brad just so he could fuck with a younger man? In his haste to escape, Kyle had forgotten to close the door to his dad's room. The sounds of sex echoed down the hallway. Kyle grabbed his headphones from his desk and jammed them on his head. Scrolling through one of his playlists, he clicked a random song and let the music drown out the sounds of moaning and slapping flesh. Hopefully, they would finish up soon. An hour later, Kyle stepped out into a silent hallway. He turned toward his father's room with a frown and strode over to find it empty. He headed down the stairs into the kitchen where he found Mike finishing up a meal at the table. He gave his dad an odd look while the older man hovered strangely nearby, like some sort of servant. "Dad?" Kyle questioned in confusion, "What are you doing?" Jake jolted at his son's question. "Err... serving Mike his dinner...?" he replied uncertainly. Kyle boggled at his dad. "What...? Why?" Mike rolled his eyes and interrupted before Mr. Harding has a chance to respond. "So... you've got a pretty awesome place here, Kyle." he began, "It's close to campus... your dad's a fucking DILF with a really tight ass..." He gave the blushing man a filthy look before continuing, "I think I'm gonna move in." The disgust Kyle was feeling was instantly replaced with shock and disbelief. "But... you can't just..." he started in protest. Mike just turned to Mr. Harding and said, "It's fine, right? It's fine that I move in." It sounded more like a statement than a question. Jake Harding's eyes glazed over for a moment, before clearing as he replied, "Y-yes. That should be fine." Kyle's jaw dropped for the second time today. "What?! Dad! You can't be serious!" Mike pushed his chair back and stood with his classic smirk. "Great! I'm gonna go and choose a room, then!" He left the kitchen and headed upstairs followed by a quiet Mr. Harding and a protesting Kyle. Kyle paled when Mike stopped in front of Brad's room. Ignoring the other man's sputtering, Mike opened the door, and stepped inside. Brad's room was the second biggest room in the house, next to the main bedroom. The walls were covered in pictures of bodybuilders and motivational posters. Trophies from old competitions lined the walls and workout equipment was scattered throughout the room. A huge king-sized bed, Brad's most recent purchase, sat in the middle against one of the walls. Mike gave the room a cursory glance before nodding. "Hmm... this room looks pretty good! I'll take it!" He chuckled as Kyle glared at him. "You can't! This is Brad's room!" Kyle turned to his dad expectantly. "Dad! What are you doing? You have to stop this!" However, to his horror, his father simply nodded along with Mike. "Sure. You can have Brad's room. Make yourself at home." Jake Harding ignored his son's horrified shrieks and continued, "If you need, I can give you a ride to your old place and help move stuff too." Mike stepped up to Mr. Harding and gave him sly grin. "I'm sure you could. You've obviously kept yourself in pretty good shape for your age." he said as he cupped the older man's firm chest. "Mmm... very nice indeed." Kyle couldn't take it anymore. He fled back to his room. Grabbing his phone off the desk, the blond was halfway through composing a text to his brother before realizing there was probably nothing Brad could do in his current situation. He was probably mid-flight already and texting the older Harding now would only worry him and probably screw with his performance at competition. Kyle was so deep in his thoughts he didn't hear the door to his room swing open. "Hey, roomie. Whatcha up to?" a voice inquired from behind. The young man spun around to find Mike leaning against his door frame, a smirk on his face, green eyes alight with amusement. Kyle glared at him. "I'm not gonna let you do this, Mike... I'll..." he started as the other boy's smirk only grew wider. "You'll... what?" he asked with a laugh, cruel and uncaring. "Geez, Kyle. You haven't realized it yet?" He shrugged as he continued. "It doesn't matter what you want, because everyone will just do as I say." Kyle squawked as the other man swept into his room and sat on the bed uninvited. "Everyone except you, of course." Mike said with a raised eyebrow, "But I suppose it doesn't matter in the long run, because as long as everyone obeys me, nothing you say or do will matter." Mike stood and made to leave the room. "But you can keep trying, I suppose. It won't make any difference." And with that, the other man was gone. Kyle quickly locked the door and fell to his knees, frustrated tears sliding down his face. In his heart, he knew that what Mike had said was true. The other boy always got his way, no matter who he talked to. His voice had a strange power that Kyle could never hope to oppose, no matter how he tried to resist. Kyle's only hope was that Brad would be able to fix things once he returned. He had to. The next few weeks were filled with nothing but disgust, anger, and frustration for Kyle as Mike proceeded to fuck Kyle's dad on practically every surface of the house. Eventually, the youngest Harding resorted to hiding out at his friends' places to avoid constantly seeing his father in compromising positions. A few weeks after, Brad finally returned from competition. Surprisingly, Mike had allowed Mr. Harding to join Kyle in picking up his eldest son. The two waited together at the arrivals gate in the airport. Kyle was practically vibrating out of his skin in anticipation. Surely, Brad would be able to fix things, and everything would go back to normal, right? The young Harding held on to his hopes, his spirits rising when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd leaving the gate. "Brad!" he shouted in glee as he rushed towards his older brother, wrapping the bigger man in a desperate embrace. "I'm so glad you're back!" The older man leaned back in surprise as he held his brother close. "Whoa! Geez, kiddo. Where's the fire?" His eyes widened when his younger brother started to sob uncontrollably. The pro bodybuilder looked to his dad who just shrugged in greeting. Between sobs, Kyle managed to get out, "Bro... you gotta do something! Mike! He just, moved in and... he took your room, and dad just let him..." Brad's eyes grew wider and wider with each work spilling forth from Kyle's mouth. He turned to his father. "Dad... what the hell is going on...?" he demanded. Jake Harding just gave his son a plain look. "Well, Mike said he wanted to move in, so he moved in. Your room was the only unused room in the house, so he took it." Brad gave his father an incredulous look. "What the fuck, dad? Really? You just let this guy move in and do whatever he wants?" He gaped as his dad gave him a helpless look. Turning back to the brother crying against his chest, he ran a soothing hand through the younger man's hair. "Shh... don't worry, Kyle. Big bro will take care of everything." he murmured as he gave his dad a disapproving frown. Eventually, the three of them made their way to their dad's car and headed home. The closer they got to their house, the more Kyle's dread grew. Something bad was gonna happen, he just knew it. The frown hadn't left Brad's face during the entire ride. "So..." Brad began, "tell me about this Mike person." In a shuddering voice, Kyle told him about Mike, about the way everyone just does as he says and how Mike always gets his way. Kyle watched his older brother's face as his eyebrows rose higher and higher. He knew from Brad's expression that the older Harding didn't truly believe him, and that would probably be his downfall. The blond slumped back into his seat for the rest of the ride. A part of him held onto his hopes, but the more practical side of him argued that he was leading his beloved older brother to a slaughter. The rest of the car ride continued in awkward silence. When they finally arrived home, Kyle steeled himself and followed his dad and older brother into the house. He followed Brad as the older man marched right into the house with his bags and headed straight to his room where they found Mike lounging in his bed. "What the fuck?!" Brad roared upon seeing the younger man making himself at home in his room. Mike grinned widely upon seeing them, and it was then that Kyle realized he had made a mistake. He had effectively delivered Brad to the gallows, and his brother was going to pay the price. "Wow!" Mike said as he got up from the bed to greet them. "Damn, you're hot. You look even better up close!" Brad jerked an arm back when the younger man tried to grope his bicep. "What the fuck, man? Who the hell do you think you are?" Mike just ignored the bigger man's question and looked him straight in the eye. "Strip." he commanded. Kyle watched as his big brother's eyes suddenly glazed over and he started to strip the clothes off his impressive body. He pretended to be shocked, but a darker part of him whispered that he knew this would happen... and he let it happen. Mike's face brightened as the older Harding stripped off his white V-neck shirt, revealing his thick pecs and incredible eight-pack abs, soon followed by his jeans and black boxer-briefs. "Holy shit..." the younger man murmured as he took in the buffet of muscle before him, "You're fucking ripped, dude!" Brad just nodded. "I've been working on this body since I was 13 years old." he admitted. "Fuck..." Mike moaned as he stepped closer to inspect Brad's hard worked body. He gripped the bigger man by the sides, stroking his thumbs across the bodybuilder's rippling abs. "Do you shave?" he asked the older man with a raised eyebrow. "I always shave before a competition." Brad replied. "I'm pretty hairy, otherwise." Mike's grin only grew wider. "Excellent." he murmured as he moved his hands up to the bigger man's pecs. He pinched Brad's nipples, smiling when the older man moaned in response. "Ooh, sensitive!" Kyle could only watch as Mike continued to explore his beloved brother's body. A part of him wanted to intervene, but another part couldn't help but think how hot it was to watch his big bro get felt up right in front of his eyes. Eventually, Mike ended his inspection and instead went to open a drawer next to the bed, pulling out a large bottle of lube. He commanded the bigger man to bend over the bed as he stripped off his shorts and carefully spread lube over his 7-inch cock. "Mmm... I'm gonna really, really enjoy this." Mike groaned, all the while looking Kyle straight in the eyes as he lubed himself up. Once he was ready, the young man moved behind Brad and pressed his cock against the bodybuilder's tight hole. "Relax." Mike commanded as he pressed in. Kyle couldn't believe himself. He stood in the doorway, shocked and turned on as Mike thrust inch after inch of dick into Brad's ass, forcing the bigger man to take his cock. He proceeded to watch for the next hour as the other boy used Brad in a variety of positions, enjoying his size, strength, and submission. "Unf... big body... and big cock to boot..." Mike moaned as he kept pounding the bodybuilder's tight hole. He gripped the other man's impressive cock in one hand. "What is this, 10 inches? Maybe 11? Hella thick too... you're the whole package, ain'tcha?" After one particularly vigorous fuck, Brad found himself splayed out face down on the bed. Mike turned to Kyle with a smirk. "Mmm... your brother's got a great body AND great ass, Kyle." he sighed in satisfaction. "But, let me guess... you thought your big bro would save you from... all this." Mike gestured lazily around himself before continuing. "Sorry to disappoint, but the truth is... Brad was always my real target from the start." The other man placed his hands on Brad's wide back, rubbing circles into the thick muscles. "I remember the first time I saw him..." Mike began, his green eyes taking on a nostalgic look. "He came to pick you up one time while I was withdrawing money from the ATM near the parking lot." He turned his gaze down to the thoroughly fucked bodybuilder. "I knew from the moment I saw him, I just had to have that body for myself..." Kyle face shifted to a confused expression. What the hell was he talking about? He soon discovered just what Mike meant when the other man's arms suddenly sank into Brad's back up to his elbows. Mike looked over his shoulder with a pleased grin and said, "I always get what I want, Kyle. And now, I'm gonna claim what's mine!" Kyle watched with growing horror as more and more of Mike slid into his older brother's bigger form, merging with him. Eventually, it was just Mike's head sticking out awkwardly behind Brad's. Slowly, Brad's huge body pushed itself off the bed into a standing position. His head hung limply in front of Mike's, eyes blank and empty. The youngest Harding watched as one of his older brother's big hands came up and pressed down on his own head. Slowly, Brad's face sank beneath the surface of his skin until it disappeared completely, leaving behind nothing but smooth, empty space. Kyle fell to his knees in despair. "Brad! Noooo!" he cried mournfully as his big brother seemed to disappear forever. Mike's head slid forward to fill the void, slotting itself onto its rightful place on the pro bodybuilder's muscular body. "Oh, fuck...!" Mike moaned as he completely assimilated the older man, Brad's memories, knowledge, and skills flooding into his mind, "Fuck... fuck... fuck!" "Noooo! This can't be happening!!" Kyle sobbed. "Yessss!" Mike cried out in pleasure. Brad's body shook as it orgasmed. "Fuck!" Mike grunted as his new body convulsed, spilling rope after rope of thick, bodybuilder cum all over the bed in front of him. After a few moments, he turned to Kyle, his huge cock still standing tall and proud. "Damn! Look at this body!" Mike roared as he examined the massive form he had stolen and claimed as his own. His eyes drifted downwards, to where the Brad's cock- no, his cock was sticking straight up against his belly. It was so much bigger than his old one. "Holy fuck, it's huge!" he declared, stroking his big, hard erection. "It's perfect. So damn thick!" He grabbed a ruler from the nearby desk and measured it. "Mmm... fuck! 10 and a half inches! I knew it!" he crowed in delight. "And these balls..." Mike groaned as he cupped the low hanging orbs, "So fucking big..." He tossed the ruler back onto the desk and went to stand in front of the full-length mirror. He had to take a few steps back to get his reflection to fit in the frame. "Goddamn, these muscles! Look at these biceps!" he grunted, flexing them in a double bicep pose. "They're massive!" Mike ran his big hands over the rest of the body, enjoying the feel of the ripped muscles under his fingers. "And fuck! These pecs!" he growled as he groped the thick mounds of muscle. The brunet pinched one of his nipples roughly with a soft moan. "Mmf... feels so fucking good..." The brunet brought a hand down to his eight-pack abs and stroked the hard, toned muscle, slipping his fingers between the deep grooves and valleys. "These abs are incredible..." he murmured, flexing and unflexing his cobbled torso. "Unf... and his scent... my scent..." Mike lifted an arm and pressed his nose into his own armpit, taking a deep whiff of his new musk. "So fucking manly!" Mike turned his gaze back to Kyle, still kneeling on the floor. "Poor, poor Kyle..." he teased, "Big brother's gone! I'm all that's left of him..." He smirked as he continued to flex. "But… don’t worry. I'll take care of this body he so generously gifted me. His big, strong body... belongs to me now." His gaze dropped to Kyle's pants where an obvious tent was forming. "Oh? What's this?" Mike's smirk turned predatory. "Don't tell me... you're actually turned on by all this?" He brought a hand down to his hard, 10.5-inch cock. "Is this what you want, Kyle? Big bro's fucking huge cock?" he asked in mock innocence. The younger man paused, but couldn't help himself and Kyle shamefully hung his head. Mike smiled wickedly at his answer and grabbed the boy's chin, forcing him to look up. "Well then..." Mike whispered, "Brad's gone... and this is my body now, so why don't you go ahead and suck on this fat cock?" He sat himself on the bed and spread his muscular legs, his huge member hard and leaking. Kyle hesitated for a moment before he slowly took a step... and then another... Moments later, he sat kneeling on the floor between Mike's legs, staring straight up at him with a fierce blush on his face. Mike raised an eyebrow at him. "Well...?" he said as he gestured expectantly at his shaft. Kyle's gaze kept switching between Mike's face and the big dick in front of him. A part of him wanted it... but he had to resist! He couldn't do this! The other man just rolled his eyes and sighed. "Okay, fine... I know what you really want." Mike tensed his body and started to grunt while Kyle just watched in confusion. The youngest Harding's eyes widened in shock when a tuft of brown hair began pushing its way out of Mike's chest. Slowly, Brad's head resurfaced until it hung limply just below Mike's. He locked eyes with Kyle and gave him a mirthful grin. Mike gripped Brad's head between his hands and lifted it up, pressing his face into the back of the other man's head. Kyle watched in horrified fascination as Mike drew the older Harding's face up around his, wearing him like a mask. Moments later, Brad's head was back on his shoulders, his eyes closed with a peaceful expression on his face. Kyle stared. "B-Brad?" he whispered, afraid to break the illusion. The older man jolted awake before turning to the youngest Harding. He smiled gently. It was Brad's smile. But Kyle's faint spark of hope was quickly snuffed out when Brad's kind smile quickly morphed into Mike's cruel smirk. "Is this what you wanted?" he taunted, using Brad’s voice. He stroked his stubbled chin appreciatively. "I'm back, little bro." Kyle gasped as a surge of heat made its way through his body. It was Brad's face, his voice, his body, his expressions... but Mike was completely in control. Kyle felt his resolve start to crumble. 'Brad' spread his arms wide. "C'mere, bro. Give your big brother a hug!" he invited. Almost robotically, Kyle stood and fell into his older brother's welcoming arms. 'Brad' wrapped his muscular arms around Kyle, pulling him into a familiar embrace. Kyle took a moment to relish it, returning the hug and allowing the imposter to fool him for just a bit. The moment was soon shattered by familiar hands roving his body in distinctly unfamiliar and un-familial ways. "Mmm..." Kyle shuddered as a deep voice whispered into his ear. "You know what big bro needs?" Strong hands forced Kyle back to his knees and gripped the back of his head, bringing his face to 'Brad' hard cock. He stared at colossal member, its thick, heady musk filling his senses. "Big bro needs a blowjob from his favorite little brother..." 'Brad' cooed, "C'mon, taste it. You know you want it..." Slowly, Kyle felt his mouth open wide and engulfed 'Brad's' throbbing shaft. "Mmm... fuck!" the bigger man moaned as Kyle swallowed inch after inch of his dick. Inwardly, Mike marveled at how much more sensitive Brad's cock was compared to his original one. 'Brad' leaned back on the bed as he watched Kyle bob up and down on his cock, taking it surprisingly deeper and deeper into his throat. "Hmm..." he moaned, gently rubbing the back of Kyle's head, "Someone's been keeping secrets from big bro, huh?" 'Brad' laughed when Kyle stared up at him with wide eyes and a mouthful of hard dick. "Oh yeah!" he grunted, "Suck the cock of the big brother you love so much!" He pressed Kyle's head down, forcing more of his cock into that tight throat. "Yeah! Deep throat this huge cock!" 'Brad' growled. "Take it all in!" "Nnngh..." Kyle groaned as he sucked harder, his lips stretched around his brother's big cock. 'Brad' felt his balls start to churn, the sensation of his new body edging closer and closer was incredible. "Fuck! This body feels so good!" 'Brad' exclaimed, "I'm gonna come!" With a deep growl, he erupted in Kyle's mouth. 'Brad' shot his load deep in the smaller man's throat, bucking his hips up as he forced Kyle down his shaft to the root. The other boy choked as he found his face buried in thick pubes. The intoxicating smell made him quickly cum in his pants as shot after shot of 'Brad's' creamy seed made its way down his throat. "Ahhh! Fuuuck!" 'Brad' grunted as Kyle swallowed the last few drops of cum. Eventually, the cock in his throat softened and Kyle was able to slide off, the huge member leaving his mouth with a loud pop. 'Brad' sighed and relaxed back onto the bed before pinning Kyle with a glare. "Now get out! I want some time to myself, so I can explore this awesome body your big brother so generously donated to me." Mike commanded with a smirk, dropping all pretenses of role play. Kyle's eyes widened as he scrambled backwards, red-faced. "Uh... okay..." he said, wiping a smear of cum from the side of his mouth. Mike watched with amusement as the smaller boy left, closing the door behind him. That 'big brother' role play thing was actually pretty hot, he'd have to try that again sometime in the future. He stood and stretched lazily, before striding over to the mirror to take a closer look at his new body. Peering closely into the mirror, Mike rubbed a hand over the stubble on his strong, square jaw and poked at his large nose. "Hmm... pretty good, I guess." he said after a moment of consideration. Brad's face was really masculine, and his dark blue eyes weren't bad to look at. Bringing his hands to the side of his face, Mike pulled forward until tufts of black hair sprouted from the back of his head. Slowly, Mike pulled his head free until once again Brad's face hung beneath him like an empty shell. Quickly tucking Brad's head back into his chest, Mike re-examined himself in the mirror and grinned. "Much better!" he chuckled as he took in his familiar bright green eyes, high cheekbones, and five o' clock shadow. Mike had always been quite proud of his looks, but now that his pretty-boy face was atop Brad's incredible body... "Fuck..." he moaned, "I'm perfect..." Taking a step back, Mike ran a hand over his massive chest, feeling up towards his wide shoulders and around his thick traps. His other hand traced down his lats to his thin waist, before moving inward to rest at his core. "Unf! Look how ripped this body is!" he marveled. He slammed a fist into his abdomen, testing the solid rack of muscle. Drawing upon Brad's memories, he tried a few poses, admiring the view of his muscles from all angles. Mike turned to the side to check out his assets. He gave the impressive mounds of muscle a smack, chuckling in satisfaction. "Damn... bro got booty!" Mike mused, "Nice." He smirked cockily into the mirror. "Thanks for the great body, Brad. I'll make sure to put it to good use." The next morning, Kyle and his dad were having breakfast at the dining table when Mike finally made an appearance downstairs. Both father and son froze as they took in the young man's new appearance. Kyle swallowed hard. Mike was dressed in a familiar grey muscle tee, the same one Brad had worn the day he left for competition. It looked great on Mike's new body, stretching tight around his arms and chest, accentuating his muscular torso. The young blond cursed the traitorous dick hardening in his pants. "Hey, boys" Mike greeted casually as he walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. He grabbed a plate and piled on some bacon and eggs. "Good morning." Mr. Harding gaped at Mike. "W-what the...? What happened to you?" he asked bewilderedly. Mike just shrugged. "I just took Brad's body for myself, that's all." Jake's eyes narrowed as he studied the younger man. "What do you mean, 'took his body'? What are you saying?" "I mean that your son sacrificed himself so I could have this amazing body of his. You don't mind, right?" Mike responded with a smirk. The older Harding wavered as Mike's voice washed over him. "O-of course not." he mumbled. "You deserve that body more than Brad did..." Mike nodded and smiled smugly. "Well, good, because it's mine now." he declared. "And... I'm gonna fuck you with this huge cock tonight, so be prepared." Mike purred, his voice dark with promise. He spread his muscled legs and patted the straining bulge in his shorts. Jake gulped nervously, but couldn't deny the other man's words. "Uh... sure..." he said weakly. Mike turned to Kyle, who gulped at the sudden scrutiny. "And, as for you, Kyle..." he began while pouring himself some orange juice, "If you're good, I might be willing to let 'big bro' take care of you, every now and then." Mike flexed an arm for effect. Kyle shuddered, but couldn't help but nod as a blush spread across his face. "Ugh... f-fine..." he stammered, looking away. Mike grinned as he dug into his breakfast with new vigor. It was gonna take a lot to fuel this new body of his. As everyone settled down to eat their breakfast, Mike couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk the found its way onto his face. He could hardly believe it. He managed to get Brad's hot bod AND a sexy DILF to fuck. Even better, he finally found a way to control the one guy who was seemingly immune to the power of his voice! Life was great for Mike Hayes, and it was only going to get better from here on out.
  4. TheGeneralGuy

    The Onyx Heart

    The Onyx Heart The darkness was cold and silent. Michael couldn’t see anything past the tip of his nose. He was scared, looking frantically for anything to grasp on inside the void. “Michael? Is that you?” A familiar voice echoed through the black infinity, calling up for Michael. He started running desperately towards its direction. He felt his heart was going to burst out of his chest, as he fought his way through the nothingness looking for the source of the voice. “Michael, help me! I can’t take it! Please…! Make it stop…”, echoed the voice, slowly fading away. “No! Don’t go! I’m trying, I swear I’m trying…”, said Michael desperately, forcing his weak legs to propel him forward. Suddenly, a sharp pain enveloped his torso. He looked down, only to find heavy black chains digging on his skin, pulling him backwards. “Please, I need to go forward! I’m almost there…” He fought with all his might, but the cold metal wouldn’t budge. With one last surge of strength, he threw himself forward, only to be yanked by the heavy chain. He screamed as he was swallowed by the darkness, losing the fading echo that was calling for him. Michael was abruptly woken up by the sudden screeching of the old taxi’s breaks. It was hot, and the young man was sweating through his shirt. “There you go señor”, said the gruff voice of the taxi driver, his stern face looking back expectantly. “Oh, yes thank you,'' said Michael absently, grabbing a thousand pesos bill and putting it in the man’s thick hands. “Keep the change, it was a long ride.” The taxi driver eased his expression a little bit, his thick mustache twitching while he observed the young man opening the trunk to take his baggage out. He rolled down the window and whistled to get his attention. “Thank you señor. Let me give you some advice. This town is older than our country itself. Treat it with respect. And most important of all, let it treat you with the kindness you need.” Michael listened to the heavy accented voice, trying to make sense of what the old man was saying. Before he could ask anything, the tires screeched again and he was left standing in the middle of a dust cloud. He covered his face coughing, as he turned around to check out his surroundings. Small Spanish colonial houses decorated each side of the wide street. In the distance, the bell tower of the cathedral stood tall above the rooftops, watching proudly above the entire town. He had heard wonders about Mexican “Pueblos magicos”, but the rumors paled in comparison to the real deal. The entire town seemed to have been taken out of a storybook. He took his luggage and headed back towards the entrance of the hotel. The massive wooden doors were surrounded by two handsome bellboys, who took Michael’s luggage and welcomed him inside. He headed towards the front desk, admiring the iron chandeliers hanging from the tall ceiling and the lavish decoration of the ex-hacienda’s lobby. “Welcome to San Miguel de Allende, Mr. Andersen. Could I please bother you with your passport and reservation number?”, said the gorgeous receptionist on the other side of the desk. His tight suit fitted the curves of his square chest perfectly, making it hard for Michael to focus on handing out the needed documents for the check-in. Fumbling with his bag, he handed in the papers to the receptionist, who swiftly typed in the needed information. “Your room number is 245. You’re free to explore all of our facilities, including the spa and the fitness center. Your luggage will be waiting for you in your room. If you need anything during your stay, let me know.”, he said flashing a heart melting smile and signaling the buff bellboy to come and pick up the suitcases. The hotel’s interior was just as gorgeous as the lobby. The ancient colonial building was adorned by all kinds of stone sculptures and old paintings depicting a past era of Mexican history. The hallways leading to the rooms formed a giant square, and in the middle, you could see the tables of the famous hotel’s restaurant surrounding the tall volcanic stone fountain in the center. The golden rays of sunlight made the water look like liquid fire, bubbling out of the sculpture’s intricate design. Michael’s room was on one corner of the uppermost floor. When he opened the big wooden doors, he found himself in the most luxurious room he had ever been in. A small living room with a few couches and an ornamental fireplace led to a big bedroom with a robust king size bed. Four door-sized windows lead to a wide balcony that overlooked the hills that surrounded the small town, along with the famous vineyard that belonged to the hotel. Michael just dropped his handbag and opened one of the doors leading outside. The hot air immediately hit his face, as he walked outside staring into the beautiful scenery. He let the scent of the arid breeze fill his lungs, as he felt he could relax for the first time in months. He begrudgingly let himself be convinced of taking a holiday by his friends back home, but he never expected to feel at such ease in a foreign country. This next week might be just what he needed to let his sorrow go. Michael was so enthralled by the landscape, that he completely missed the fact that the suite he was in was definitely not the room he booked. This kind of luxury would be definitely out of his budget. Once he truly realized what kind of room he was standing in, he rushed to the small coffee table next to one of the couches, and immediately dialed the number from the front desk. “Front desk, Hector Ramirez speaking.”, Michael instantly recognized the deep accented voice on the other side of the line. It was that handsome receptionist that checked him in just a few minutes ago. “Yes, uh…, I’m Michael Andersen from room 245. I just checked in with you a few moments ago.”, said Michael hesitantly. He scorned himself for sounding so nervous, but even through the phone he was still intimidated by the other man’s looks. “I think there might have been a mistake with my booking.” “Alright Mr. Andersen, let me check your reservation quickly.” Michael could hear the typing on the other side of the line. Seconds felt like hours, as the poor tourist grew more nervous thinking the mistake was his. “Everything seems to be alright Mr. Andersen,'' said the receptionist. Michael just stood in place meditating his next few words. “I’m sorry, but that can’t be. I booked a regular room, not… a suite.” “Your reservation states that you booked the presidential suite, Mr. Andersen. Let me check with my supervisor to see what can be done. I’ll call you in a moment.” Michael waited seated on the couch, tapping his feet nervously on the expensive red carpet. There was no way he booked a presidential suite at one of the town’s most expensive hotels. It was a miracle he could afford anything other than a hostel, let alone a five-star resort. Most of his savings had gone to this trip, so he was already feeling dreadful about spending that money. If they charged him for the suite, he would be stuck in Mexico doing work for the hotel to pay off his debt. As his anxiety started to get the best out of him, the ringing of the room’s phone made him jump in his seat. He immediately took the call, hearing that familiar mellifluous voice on the other side of the line. “Mr. Andersen! It’s Hector Ramirez again. I spoke to my supervisor about your problem, and it seems we’re in a difficult situation. We can’t move you to any other room, because the hotel is fully booked due to the national holidays this weekend. The mistake was probably caused by a change in our system, so the least we can do for you is to charge you the price of a regular single room and offer you the presidential suite for your entire stay.” Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not only did he make it to a storybook town, but he was going full luxury on his stay. “Uhhh…. Thanks. I appreciate that.”, he said shyly to the phone. “Nothing to thank us for, Mr. Andersen. Our number one priority is to make your stay as comfortable as possible. If you need anything, I’m at your service.” Michael hung up the phone and for the first time in very long, he felt a genuine smile paint itself on his lips. This trip wasn’t going to be so bad after all. It might just be the remedy he needed. He jumped into the giant bed, letting himself be swallowed by its soft surface. Then, everything went dark. The agonizing screams kept getting closer, as Michael ran through the darkness looking desperately for the source of the sounds. Suddenly, it was cold. Very cold. It reminded Michael of the winters back home, where the sun hid for a couple of months, and a taciturn silence reigned supreme over the city. The happiness that the holidays once brought was long gone, one winter worse than the last one. This winter had been, by far, the worst time in his life. Feeling the cold brush against his skin as he ran through the darkness reminded him of the pain he felt when he was trapped inside his apartment with… “Michael, please! Hurry!” His footsteps started to get clumsy, as the ground shattered underneath him, like thin ice, submerging him into a frozen abyss. He felt his consciousness drift away once more, and the voice was suddenly like the beacon in a far-off lighthouse, lost in the winter mist. The sun was starting to set when Michael opened his eyes. The beautiful room was painted golden, giving it an even cozier appearance. He groggily stood up and checked out his phone. Many messages from his friends and family popped up on the screen. With a frustrated groan, he threw the phone on the bed and stretched his limbs. That little nap had been very refreshing, despite the horrible nightmares that still haunted him. “It must be the bed,'' he said out loud, admiring the mattresses’ soft texture. It was the first time he slept on silk sheets. He definitely understood rich people’s fascination for the expensive material. He went to the bathroom to wash himself and plan his evening. It was just as beautiful as the rest of the suite, with intricate marble decorations and even a big jacuzzi. The sink was just underneath a wall-sized mirror, where Michael could admire, or dread, his unkempt appearance. He didn’t realize how much he had let himself go these last few months. His dirty blonde hair looked greasy, and was in desperate need of styling. His chin and sideburns were covered by the little scruff he was able to grow, looking more like a rebellious teenager trying to grow his sparse facial hair than the twenty-five-year-old man he actually was. His baby-blue eyes were sunken on their sockets, encased by deep eye bags unable to conceal their tiredness. He was a cute guy, or so he heard. He didn’t really care for his youthful looks or his increasingly thin body. He was too tired to care for his appearance. After splashing some water on his face and brushing his teeth, he opened the browser on his phone to look for some activities. He found out the best way to explore the town, was actually heading to the center and do some walking himself. He changed his shirt and headed outside. The restaurant was starting to fill in with people. Michael made a mental note to himself to make a dinner reservation there to try out the local cuisine. Hector Ramirez was gone from the front desk, replaced by an equally hot Mexican stud. He took one little tourist leaflet from the information stand, and headed outside through the massive wooden doors. The streets looked way livelier than before, as people ventured to explore the old town’s streets safe from the scorching hot sun. The town’s central plaza wasn’t far from where he was, so he decided to take a stroll and check out what kind of activities he was willing to try out. By the time he made it in front of Saint Michael’s cathedral, the sun was already setting, and the small streets were absolutely filled with tourists. Mariachi music echoed through the streets, as people gathered inside cantinas and restaurants, getting ready for a night of partying. Michael wasn’t a fan of socializing, so he immediately discarded the party scene from his to-do list. On his way to the plaza, he found a sightseeing bus, some good restaurants and lots of artisanal shops. The cathedral was already closed, so he decided to check out some of those stores around the center before finding somewhere to eat. All the small shops sold essentially the same things. A lot of artisanal stone cravings, some quartz sculptures, paintings and some variety of clothing. Michael checked out the pieces of art, admiring the Catrinas and pieces of fruit made out of precious minerals. He considered buying some souvenirs for people back home, but decided to wait until the end of his trip so he didn’t have to carry heavy stones while he headed for dinner. Once the stores started closing, he made his way through the streets looking for an empty-looking restaurant to sit in peace and enjoy the Mexican culinary culture. All the places looked extremely full though, which discouraged Michael to try out some of the Restaurants on the main streets. After walking for a while, he found himself on smaller, darker looking alleys. People were still walking around, so he wasn’t nervous. He read online that the town was very safe, despite what the media back home sputtered about the Latin American country. Once he got tired of looking for a restaurant, he took out his phone to google which good dining places were close to him. A faint voice caught his attention, as he looked up from the screen to find an old looking woman sitting on the curb of the alley. She was wearing an intricate shawl, adorned with colorful details. Her tan face was covered in wrinkles, giving her a wise appearance. On her lap laid a carpet full of artisanal stone carvings, similar to what Michael saw on the different shops across town. But these articles looked more detailed, and complicated. He approached the old woman, who just smiled staring straight into Michael’s blue eyes. “Ah, joven. What can I help you with?”, she said. Her voice was raspy and dry, and her accent very strong. Still, she spoke in such a way that Michael didn’t have any trouble understanding. “Your stuff is very beautiful. Do you make these yourself?” “Si, I do. Very, very hard. Hands don’t trabajan like before.” “Still, I’m very impressed…”, said Michael checking out the wares. “Tell me, joven. What can I help you with?” Her tone was eerie, but very calm. Michael looked at her once again, not knowing what he should answer. “You think I don’t know, joven. But I do. I can see your dolor. Your pain.” Michael went pale, feeling completely defenseless against the mysterious woman’s gaze. He started to sweat, as he felt the sincerest words he had said in a long time bubble up from his throat. “I want to be happy again. I want to laugh, and cheer, and love again. I want to feel life is worth living. And most of all, I want to recover the strength I lost.” He immediately covered his mouth, not believing what he just said. The woman smiled, her dull eyes sparkling for an instant. Without looking, she reached for her pocket, and took out what seemed to be a black rock. When she opened her palm, Michael saw a small but very detailed black heart. “This is an onyx heart. It helps you to let go of the past. What has happened to you will strengthen your heart. Let this precious stone guide you to your destiny.” Michael took the stone in his hands. It was cold to the touch, its surface smooth and free of any impurity. Before he could reach for his wallet, the woman stopped him with a sign from his hands. “No payment. The heart has always been yours. You will pay with your actions, not with your money.” Michael smiled at the old woman, not fully understanding what she meant. With a cordial “gracias” he got up and headed to the lit street at the end of the alley. The woman smiled, knowing already what the land had planned for that young man’s destiny. “Pollo con mole, tiradito de atún, escamoles….” Michael was trying his best to understand the exotic dishes printed on the small restaurant’s menu. According to TripAdvisor, this was one of the best places to be having dinner. It wasn’t very expensive, so he decided to treat himself with a nice meal. Being a victim of Montezuma’s revenge scared him a little, but the sounds coming from his empty stomach indicated a stronger need to stuff himself with anything he could find. When the waiter came with the fruity margarita he ordered, he asked him what his recommendation was. “You should have the Aguachile, señor. It’s the best one in town!” “But isn’t it too spicy?”, asked Michael remembering chile means chili. Doing Spanish in high school was starting to pay off. “Nah, don’t you worry señor. I’ll ask the chef to make it mild just for you.”, said the waiter smiling through his dense mustache. “Alright, thanks! I’ll have some guacamole as well.” “Coming right up!” The waiter rushed back into the kitchen, leaving the student alone to enjoy his margarita. When his lips touched the salt frosted glass, he winced tasting the strong tequila even through the sugary strawberry syrup. The strong agave distillate slid down his throat, burning everything on its path. “If you make those faces with a margarita, imagine when you move to a real caballito.” A deep voice caught Michael’s attention, who turned around and was faced by the most handsome man he had ever seen. A short black beard covered his square jaw, sprinkled with some white hairs giving it a regal appearance. Two deep brown eyes hooded by two bushy, but well-groomed eyebrows stared at the young student intensely. His hair was black as well, styled perfectly in a faded quiff. The man looked very muscular, his athletic build encased in a perfectly tailored black shirt. It was open, exposing the hard ridge of his upper chest, and his arms strained against the expensive looking fabric. He was probably in his early- to mid- forties judging by the white strands on his hair. Michael was so impressed by the man’s appearance, he completely missed what he had said. “Huh? What do you mean?”, was the only thing he could stutter. The man just chuckled, his chest shaking inside the shirt, threatening to rip it apart. “I mean, when you start drinking tequila how it was meant to be drunk. On a caballito. Like a shot glass.” The man then stood up, exposing his impressive figure to the speechless student. His legs were proportionally big as well, stretching the tailored pants with each step. “Mind if I join you?”, he asked. Michael just nodded, trying his hardest not to start drooling in front of such a person. The man sat down next to him, putting his own caballito on the table. “Where are my manners? My name is Iñigo de la Fuente.” His voice was soft, but deep and commanding. His gaze stern, but warm and welcoming. There was something about this man Michael couldn’t put his finger on. Even his scent was alluring, exuding an expensive wooden smell product of some cologne on his neck. “I-I’m Michael Andersen.”, he said shakingly. “Pleasure to meet you Mr. Andersen. Can I call you Michael?”, he said extending his hand. “Sure, it’s fine,'' answered the student, taking the man’s hand. His grip was strong, his palm rough and calloused. Despite his impeccable appearance, the man was no stranger to hard labor it seemed. “You can call me Iñigo too,'' he said, sipping some tequila from his glass. “What brings you to San Miguel de Allende, Michael?” “My friends recommended the trip for me to relax and get out of the routine. Some…stuff happened back at home, so I needed a break,” said Michael diverting his gaze from the man’s. Iñigo immediately saw the pain that haunted the young student. “I see. This is a magical place. It changes you in more than one way. I really hope you find what you’re looking for.” “I hope so too,'' said Michael taking another sip from his margarita. “What about you?” “What brings me here you mean?”, said Iñigo chuckling. “My family has been living here since colonial times. I was born and raised here.” “Oh, I see,'' said the student, feeling a bit embarrassed. “So, any recommendations? Anything I can’t miss during my stay here?” “Well, the town is beautiful. You should definitely get lost on the streets and explore it by yourself. You can visit some local art galleries as well. If you want something more, non-conventional, you should pay a visit to the local vineyards.” “Yes! I saw many on my way here. I have a view over one from my hotel room as well.” “In which hotel are you staying?”, asked Iñigo, stroking his beard. “It’s called Real de Rosales. Not so far from here, I think.” Iñigo just stayed quiet, his eyes scanning the young man before him. “Yes, I know where it is,'' he said absently. “You can’t miss the restaurant there too.” “It looks very good! I definitely wanna try it!” They talked for a while, discussing Michael’s engineering studies, and some other local subtleties. The waiter came with the food, and both men joined to have dinner. Hours felt like minutes, as both Michael and Iñigo grew more interested in each other. They laughed, ate and drank for a long time. Iñigo even tried to convince Michael to try some pure tequila, but the student refused, not willing to lose his composure in front of that elegant man. Some time past midnight, Iñigo asked for the check and even paid for Michael’s meal. “This one’s on me. For the good company.”, he said flashing a heart melting smile. Michael felt embarrassed that a stranger was paying for his expenses. “No! I can’t let you pay for me, he said, reaching for his wallet. Iñigo stopped him, grabbing his arm. Michael could feel the strong grip almost surrounding its entire circumference. “I insist. In fact, if you do feel bad about it, next one’s on you.” Michael couldn’t believe his ears. This gorgeous man he just met was asking to meet him again. He enthusiastically nodded, a cheerful smile printing itself on the student’s lips. Iñigo smiled as well, wondering what it was that he found so attractive in this young man. “Tomorrow, I promise,'' said Michael, extending his hand. Iñigo grabbed it and both men sealed the promise with a handshake. The student ordered a taxi to go back to the hotel. Before closing the door, he yelled to catch Iñigo’s attention, who was heading to his own car. “Wait! How can I contact you? I don’t have your number or anything.”, he said. Iñigo let out a booming laugh, and approached the open taxi. “I’ll pick you up at six in your hotel. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, the taxi door was closed and the infatuated student was on his way back to the hotel. The moment he entered the suite, he threw himself on the bed like a lovestruck teenager. He couldn’t wait to see what that handsome man had planned for both of them. He drifted into sleep, the cold black onyx heart still in his pocket. The screams were getting closer this time. Michael was still fighting his way through the darkness, when suddenly he found a door. A very familiar door, identical to the one back at home in his apartment. He slowly opened it, and found himself standing in the middle of his small living room. The place was messy and dirty, almost like it had been uninhabited for a long time. Spiderwebs hung from the ceiling, and dust gathered on every surface. The screams had stopped. Michael explored his living room, seeing all his consoles and books in their respective places. He took one of the picture frames, and swept the dust off the glass surface. He remembered the picture. A healthier looking Michael was smiling back at him, along with another person. A very familiar person. The next few pictures were taken with the exact same person. All of them depicted fun and happy moments between both the student and the other man. In fact, the living room was filled with different mementos covered in dust and spiderwebs. Valentine’s day balloons, letters, a music box, a stuffed animal and even some empty wine bottles. A sound coming from the hallway caught Michael’s attention. He headed towards the noise, entering the dark hallway. It was cold again, Michael could see his breath condensing in front of him. He started shaking uncontrollably, his teeth chattering due to the bitter cold. The hallway grew more and more unkempt, the floorboards starting to crack and break under the student’s feet. When he reached the end of the hallway, he found himself in front of his bedroom door. He heard a whisper from the other side. As he approached to listen to what it was saying, the door opened and a chain with a harpoon pierced Michael’s chest, yanking him inside the bedroom. The student woke up screaming, almost jumping out of bed. He was sweating profusely, the silk sheets sticking to his skin. He was having nightmares again. He rubbed his eyes groggily, and saw some morning sun peeking through the thick curtains. He checked his phone, seeing he had some missed calls from his friends and family. He grunted annoyed, and wrote a few short texts to let everyone know he was fine. When he got out of bed, he felt heavy. “I shouldn’t have eaten that much so late,'' he said to himself as he headed towards the bathroom to wash himself. The shower was glorious, being equipped with a hydro massage and a sauna. Michael relished in on the sensations that the water caused on his skin. He couldn’t help but feel something out of place, almost as if the water flowed differently on his skin. After he was done, he approached the mirror to brush his teeth. When he saw his reflection, he felt a bit uneasy. He couldn’t tell why, but his hair looked a shade darker. He brushed it with his fingers, and a few strands came off, sticking to his hand. His face looked different as well, almost as if the lighting in the bathroom was casting a shadow on his jawline. It made it look sharper as well. When he inspected the rest of his body, he saw that his formerly smooth skin was now plagued by small but thick bristles. It was denser on his arms, his chest and his legs. Even his pubic hair looked darker as well. Michael was very confused, but he attributed it to the lack of recovery sleep and the food the day prior. At least Montezuma didn’t show up to mess up his night some more. He got dressed, wearing some shorts and a simple t-shirt. His legs felt a bit snug against the fabric, and so did his arms. He made another mental note to himself to eat less heavy stuff so the bloating would go away. He took the onyx heart with him on his way out, storing it inside his pocket. He had breakfast in the hotel’s restaurant. The buffet was filled with all kinds of tasty dishes and exotic fruits. Michael served himself a lot of eggs, some chilaquiles and fried beans. His appetite wasn’t usually that big early in the morning, but this time he engulfed all in his path. Michael didn’t find it alarming, thinking it would help to carry him through the very active routine he had planned. He left the hotel, greeting Hector on his way out, and headed towards the town’s center. It was a hot day. Michael was already sweating when he stepped out into the scorching sunlight. The street seemed brighter than the day before. Michael didn’t know if it was the magic of the place, or just sleeping in such a luxurious bed that had him in a good mood. He even smiled and greeted a few strangers that walked past him. The slight discomfort of his legs rubbing with each other made him widen his stance, not noticing the change in his stride. By the time he made it to the sightseeing bus stop, his drenched t-shirt was sticking tight against his torso, and he could feel the waistband of his shorts dig into his flesh. “Weird.”, he mumbled, trying to pull down the hem of his t-shirt down to cover his lower belly. He paid his ticket, and immediately took his seat inside the old bus. The tour was in Spanish, so he hoped to catch a few phrases to at least understand the context of what the tour guide was saying. “San Miguel de Allende fue un poblado pre-hispanico chichimeca…” Michael was listening to the woman’s explanation about the town’s history, understanding way more than he thought he would. He even knew some facts about Mexican history before the guide would mention them. He never considered himself well educated in foreign matters, but the way the woman was talking about the Mexican War of Independence and the Mexican Revolution seemed familiar. Almost like he had heard the tale somewhere else before. The bus drove through the streets full of tourists, making a few stops on the town’s most important landmarks. Michael was paying attention to the tour, but he couldn’t help but notice some different aspects all over the landscape, like where people gathered the most to buy food, or where the different colonial building façades looked most worn out by the weather. He couldn’t help but think of ways to improve the streets, making them cleaner and more attractive to different kinds of people. His wandering mind was interrupted by the announcement that the tour was over. His daydream made him miss the rest of the explanation. He got out of the bus, leaving the lady a very generous tip for her service. The next few hours went over fast. He grabbed a cold michelada and sat on a bench right outside Saint Michael’s cathedral, admiring the beauty of the bell tower. “No wonder this town is so famous. Everything is gorgeous”, he said, feeling completely at ease. Despite sitting directly under the sun, he felt no discomfort. His pale skin was usually very sensitive to light and hot weather, burning even after the smallest exposure. But at that moment, he was enjoying the warmth against his face, fully bathing in the afternoon sunlight. It was a nice contrast to the cold and dark weather back home. He left back to the hotel two hours before the time he was supposed to meet Iñigo, so he could get ready for the date in peace. Once he was back in his suite, he headed straight for the shower to wash off all the stale sweat from the excursion earlier. He struggled trying to take his t-shirt off, almost like it was a few sizes too small. The button from his shorts practically burst on its own, releasing the tension Michael kept feeling during the day. Looking in the mirror, he definitely looked bigger. His arms seemed stronger, just like his legs. His formerly teen-sized waist had thickened considerably, along with his flat chest. He reached up to grab one of his pecs, and was surprised to feel a very small chunk of hard muscle underneath. It was still imperceptible to the eyes, but it was definitely there. The small bristles had also grown some, covering his limbs with a dark dusting of sparse hair. But instead of feeling alarmed by the second puberty he was going through, Michael felt it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t pay any attention to the changes, heading straight into the shower. He had sweat a lot, so he made sure to wash every part of his body thoroughly. The idea of showing up even with the smallest amount of dirt to his date disgusted him. Iñigo was a very elegant man, so the least he could do was to try and get on his level. He chose to wear some dark jeans, along with the only button shirt he had brought to the trip. The fact that it was a size too big was perfect to accommodate his new bulk. Again, he took the small onyx heart before leaving the room. When he arrived in the lobby, his eyes were immediately attracted by Iñigo’s imposing figure. Like the day before, he was clad in a perfectly tailored black suit that hugged every curve of his body. He was leaning over the front desk, casually chatting with Hector Ramirez, who looked just as gorgeous as every time Michael saw him. The student’s heart sank on his chest, thinking he might have misinterpreted things with the local man. After all, why would such a stud be interested in a weedy foreign man? Self-doubt plagued Michael’s mind, triggering his flight instinct. But before he could sneak out of there unembarrassed, he heard Iñigo’s booming voice resonate on the high ceiling of the hacienda. “Michael! Over here!” Michael’s resistance melted the instant he heard that deep accented bass mention his name. He turned around, putting on the best smile his lips could muster. “Hello Iñigo. You’re a bit early”, he said approaching the handsome man. Iñigo immediately took his hand for a firm handshake. The student’s heart skipped a bit, feeling that strong grasp on his palm again. “Ah, yes. I was talking a bit with the guys at the front desk. I’m always impressed to see how much Hector has grown.”, he said looking back at the front desk. “The boy was raised on one of my family’s properties. It makes me proud to see he grew up to be such a responsible young man.” Michael wasn’t surprised to find out that Iñigo was probably an influential figure in this town. His poise, his style and his manners depicted a very cultured and educated person. “So, are you ready to taste the best tequila you ever had?”, asked Iñigo, inviting Michael to walk next to him. “Only a little bit. I’m not ready to re-live my university party days.” “Ah, of course. It’s only going to be a taste. After all, the highlight of this town is the wine. I’ll be your own personal sommelier tonight.”, said Iñigo. Both men then headed outside, where the man’s car was waiting for them. The place they were visiting was more on the outer part of town. The art gallery used to be an old factory, adapted to showcase the local artists’ works. According to the Mexican, one of the best cantinas was right next to the place. Before heading for dinner, Iñigo invited Michael to take a look through the many exhibitions. Walking around, the student got more and more mesmerized by the handsome man, as he explained all the different art movements embodied in the paintings. “Many of the upcoming artists here are struggling. This gallery gives them an opportunity to show their talent to the world. Even if their work isn’t immediately bought, the fact that they’re being seen for their artistry is enough for most of them. Creativity flourishes in adversity.”, said Iñigo, admiring the different paintings before them. Michael just listened silently. He could relate more to those artists than the man thought, having gone through plenty of adversity himself. Iñigo noticed the student’s increasingly grim expression, and made a detour to head to the cantina. Once they were sitting on a table, the waiter brought them a few snacks and two caballitos. Iñigo ordered the best tequila in the house in Spanish. Michael didn’t realize he was starting to understand even the single expressions in the foreign language. The waiter poured both glasses full, and with a small toast both men took a sip of the agave drink. “So, Michael. These two eyes have seen many people come and go from this town. When I see you, I see you’re in need of a friend. What happened there?” The student looked down on his glass, not knowing what to answer. Iñigo was still a stranger after all. But there was something inside of him that wanted to vomit his concealed feelings. The emotions were bubbling inside of him, causing his body temperature to rise. He unbuttoned his shirt's uppermost button, feeling the fresh air brush against his hot skin. The handsome man’s allure was too powerful, inspiring trust and confidence in Michael. “Nothing important,'' he said, taking a sip of tequila. “Art galleries remind me of someone.” “Someone? As in important someone?”, asked Iñigo. His dark eyes staring deeply into the student’s own. “Yes. My ex-boyfriend was a very talented artist. He used to love visiting these places, interpreting the paintings and translating the artists’ emotions in such a way that I understood everything.” Michael’s eyes started to water, but he made an inhuman effort to swallow the tears. Iñigo noticed the student’s distress, and took his hand. “Whatever happened between you two, it's in the past. You can learn from it, but you can’t live in it. You have to let go.” “How…?”, asked Michael, his voice breaking. The onyx heart in his pocket started to pulse, its cold surface heating up slowly. “I spent months trying to heal. My entire life crumbled right in front of me. That’s why I’m here. This was my last resort, so I wouldn’t…”. He couldn’t finish the sentence. Iñigo rubbed his rough fingers on the student’s hand, trying his best to calm him down. The man’s touch was having a positive effect on Michael, a feeling of safety washing all over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable with someone, despite talking about the one thing he couldn’t talk about to other people. “Pain is a very strange thing,'' said Iñigo. “You can feel it trying to destroy you. If you let it, it will. But the truth is, that pain teaches you how strong you are.” “What do you mean?”, asked Michael looking up to meet the man’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but the fact that you’re sitting here with me is a testament to your fortitude. You survived.” Michael’s expression eased up, as the man’s words entered his being, and washed all the sorrow away. He could almost feel the black heart syphoning the negativity away. “Once you let go of the past, you will see your destiny.” Michael smiled at Iñigo, his own heart warming up. He took the tequila glass up and made another toast. “For destiny.” Iñigo raised his glass too, smiling at the student. He could feel a strong attraction for him as well, and he couldn’t tell why. A lifetime in that town had taught him not to question destiny’s intricate design. Letting things flow was the best path of action one could take. “For destiny.” Both men kept drinking all night. Michael didn’t notice how much alcohol went into his system. He was a lightweight when it came to alcohol, but for some reason he could keep up with Iñigo all night long. He could feel his torso slowly starting to press against the shirt, the buttons starting to struggle to keep it closed. His movement was being restricted by the fabric, his back forbidding his arms to move forward. The pressure on his jeans was unbearable, so he eventually took off his belt and unbuttoned the pants. By the time the bottle was empty, it was past midnight and both men were slightly drunk. “So, my friend. I owe you an apology.”, said Iñigo, his voice losing some of its elegance and acquiring a hint of macho that made Michael’s manhood twitch. “I didn’t let you try out the wine I promised.” “Don’t worry, hombre.”, said Michael, his own voice feeling a bit more raspy than usual. “I’ll still be here a couple of more days.” “Then let me promise, tomorrow I’ll take you to the vineyard. A private tour. What do you say?” “Of course, I’d love it. With one condition. You have to wear some sexy outfit para el campo” Iñigo’s laugh almost made the bar’s glasses shake. “You got it, my friend.” Iñigo’s driver dropped Michael at his hotel, and drove away into the night. By the time he made it to his room, the drunk student barely managed to take off his shoes and plummet into the bed, straight into Morpheus’ embrace. When Michael opened his eyes, he was standing in an identical copy of his bedroom. His sheets were undone, as usual, and his clothes were laying on their usual spot on the floor. The lights were on, and everything looked normal. Someone was sitting on the bed, facing straight into the dark window on the other side of the room. “So, you finally made it huh? Took you long enough.” Michael’s face grew pale, as the person turned around and he knew exactly who he was. “Will?” “In the flesh,'' said Will standing up from the bed. “I really thought you weren’t going to make it.” “When have I not made it?” asked Michael approaching the other man. “You know when.” “That’s not fair Will, I gave you everything I had.” Will’s face grew somber, a sinister shadow spreading on his eyes. “Not everything. You never gave your all for this relationship. Not even a year and you’re already looking for a replacement.” “That’s not true! It was a difficult time for both of us. The world was trying its best to kill us. And I stayed. It tore me apart, but I stayed. You were the one that left!” “You know it wasn’t my fault!”, roared Will, the room shaking uncontrollably. The dark shadow was spreading from Will’s body into the surroundings, making the wooden floor decay and the painting on the walls peel down. “I was sick! What else were you expecting? Can you really blame me for what happened? Let me rephrase that. Do you still blame me for what happened?!” Before Michael could answer, the decaying floor gave away, and the student fell into the darkness below. On his way down, he heard the dreaded siren of an ambulance, he saw the blue lights of a police car, and felt his own wails of suffering escape his throat once again. The light of the room went up and away like a shooting star. “Room service!” A knocking on the door pulled Michael out from his sleep. He had no idea how late it was, but judging by the bright light coming in from the window, it must be nearing noon. He felt like he was run over by a bulldozer. Slowly, he dragged his heavy body out of the bed to answer the knocking. “Un Segundo”, he said, his accent in Spanish not as pronounced as it used to be. When he opened the door, he was met by the startled face of a small woman in a maid’s outfit. “Uhh…, vuelvo después.”, she said and rapidly disappeared with her car in the hallway. Michael just stood there with the door half open, wondering if he said something wrong. The woman looked embarrassed and impressed. He headed to the bathroom for his morning routine, but when he saw himself in the mirror he almost screamed for help, thinking a stranger had gotten inside his suite. “Damn, is that me?”, he said admiring his different body on the reflective surface. The shirt had given up during the night, and on the opening Michael could see a lean muscular torso. The small bristles had grown into a full dark carpet that covered his hard chest and descended over the faint ridges of his abdominal muscles into the overly stretched waistband of his jeans. He struggled to take the ruined garment off, to finally free his much thicker arms from their confinement. They were covered by thick body hair as well. He flexed in front of the mirror, a small hill rising from his upper arm. Even his armpit hair was different, the sparse blonde hair replaced by a thick bush. Despite being so hairy, he still looked well groomed. Not a single hair looked unkempt, all his pelt meticulously designed to accentuate the much more athletic body. He forcefully took off his jeans, revealing thick corded muscle underneath. His boxer briefs were now stretched by an actual ass, instead of the flat surface that occupied them before. Even his bigger feet were hairy now, each toe displaying a dusting of its own. He took a closer look at his face. His nose seemed bigger, along with a more pronounced brow and higher cheekbones. He looked rougher, and mature. His blue eyes looked a bit darker, and his hair was browner instead of blonde now, and looked more wavy than straight like it used to be. What really stood out from his new visage was the dark five o’clock shadow covering his square jaw. It was rough as sandpaper, and so thick no naked skin was visible underneath. Michael was completely speechless, feeling new strength and energy coursing through his whole body. Somehow, it felt right. He wasn’t scared, he was just surprised. The more time he moved his body in front of the mirror, the more normal it seemed. By the time he was able to turn around and get into the shower, the changes settled in his mind, and he fully accepted his new looks like they had always been there. Even the water felt more erogenous, flowing against the thick hair. He looked for something to wear, but the only things that fit him now were a pair of athletic shorts, and an oversized t-shirt he brought in case he decided to work out. His stomach rumbled loudly, so he quickly went out to grab something to eat. On his way to the restaurant, he greeted both hotel staff, and guests cordially, feeling very at ease with the people surrounding him. His shy demeanor was slowly disappearing, letting out a more confident and friendly personality. He ordered a lot of food from the restaurant’s lunch menu, enjoying every bite with a newfound taste. His tolerance to chili had grown as well, his palate discovering new sensations that came together with the wide variety of spices being served in the local cuisine. Michael was about to order a third plate, when he heard a familiar voice yell at him from the distance. “Miguel! There you are! I was worried you weren’t going to survive the killer hangover,” said Iñigo approaching the table where the student was sitting. He looked different, wearing a skin-tight white shirt, open to expose his herculean chest. His jeans were sticking perfectly to his muscular legs, leaving nothing to Michael’s imagination about what the man was packing between his legs. Something about his greeting seemed strange to him though, but the infatuated student couldn’t point out what. “Hey Iñigo! What did you just call me?” “What do you mean? I said Michael, there you are. It seems some of the tequila’s blessings are still in your body!”, he said putting his heavy hand on Michael’s shoulders. “So, are you ready for your surprise today?” “What surprise? You told me we’re going to the vineyard, right?” “Ah, yes! I just didn’t tell you what we were going to do there!”, said Iñigo laughing. “But you’ll have to change clothes. That outfit is not suited for a day on the field. The ants will eat you alive.” “But they’re my only clothes left…”, said the student looking down embarrassed. He was already feeling a bit self-conscious on spending a day on his workout clothes, not to mention the rest of his wardrobe was rendered useless with his increased mass. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell Hector to bring you some proper clothes to your room. Once you’re done changing, meet me at the entrance to the field at the back of the hotel.” Iñigo then walked back to the front desk, leaving Michael sitting on the table, wondering how that man could have anything he wanted with the click of his fingers. And true to his word, when he came back to the room, he found a bag of brand-new clothes waiting for him. A white shirt like the one Iñigo was wearing, alone with a pair of jeans, boots and a hat. The clothes looked big at first, but once he put the whole outfit on, he felt surprisingly comfortable. He took the onyx heart once again, putting it in his pocket, and left to meet Iñigo. The vineyard belonging to the hotel was immense. Row after row of grape vines painted the dry field green, giving it a fertile appearance. A small building on top of the hill overlooked the crops. Michael assumed that must be the winery, where they distilled the fruit to make the drinks. He approached the wooden arch that worked as the entrance, when he heard heavy steps coming his way. Within a cloud of dust, Iñigo appeared sitting on a gigantic black stallion. The animal was beautiful, both powerful and graceful, fitting for the handsome man sitting on top. Next to him was an equally big and gorgeous chocolate colored horse, with an empty saddle on top. “So, are you ready for our tour?”, said Iñigo. “Horseback riding? I can’t even drive a bicycle! What makes you think I’ll be able to control…that.”, said the student nodding towards the imposing beast. “It’s more intuitive than you think. Once you get on, you’ll feel you’ve been doing it your entire life.” Michael hesitated for an instant, a milliard of possible accidents flashing quickly on his mind. He looked at the horse, and both man and creature made eye contact. Suddenly, the student felt calm and confident, and decided to give it a shot. With a grace he didn’t know he had, he jumped on the horse, taking it by the reigns. “For someone who has never been on a horse, you sure look like a natural,'' said Iñigo checking the student out. He looked very attractive with his fitted white shirt and cowboy hat. “Follow me!”, he said and signaled his own stallion to gallop into the vineyard. Michael followed suit, using an instinct he didn’t know he had to guide the animal inside. Both men galloped for some time, enjoying the warm breeze and the bright sunlight. Michael was grabbing the reins with force, using his newfound strength to keep his body in the right positions. The movement of the horse was sending ripples across his body, making his muscles twitch and adapt in response. His forearms flexed and grew, sinewy muscle taking root in the previously slender limbs. He used one free hand to roll up the sleeves, exposing the hairy muscle to the hot exterior. His biceps bulged out too, growing stronger the more the student pulled the reins. His triceps grew as big as the horseshoes the beast had attached to its hooves, hanging down and stretching the sleeves to impossible limits. His shoulders rounded out and grew as big as cannon balls, proportionate to the arms they were now supposed to carry. He was using his legs to stabilize himself, squeezing the animal with strength. The thick fabric of his jeans started to stretch, giving away to the tree trunks that were replacing his legs. He felt more comfortable once his ass ballooned out making a perfect cushion for the hard saddle underneath. Once he caught up with Iñigo, he used all his might to stop the horse, pulling the reins and making it rear. The sudden display of strength made his chest puff out into two massive concrete slabs, bursting out from the upper part of his shirt and forming an almost obscene cleavage. His stomach hardened into a perfectly cut eight-pack, bulging with strength, and his back flared out almost ripping the rest of the shirt to shreds. “Woah! What a rrrush,” said Michael, rolling his tongue to pronounce the word. “I told you, you’re a natural,'' said Iñigo, getting off the horse. “Come with me. I want you to take a look at the fruits.” Both men entered one of the furthest rows of vines. Grapes hung from the plant’s cordons, giving some color to the otherwise green landscape. Iñigo took one fruit and tore it off, handing it to Michael. The student looked perplexed for a bit, worried they might get into trouble for damaging the plants. Iñigo saw Michael’s face, reading through his emotions, and smiled. “Don’t worry. No one is going to tell us anything.” “I’m sure a tour around the vineyard doesn’t include stealing some of the fruit.” “It’s not stealing if you own it,'' said Iñigo laughing. Michael opened both his eyes in surprise, everything about the mysterious Mexican man suddenly making sense. “Wait, so you own the vineyard? And the hotel?” “Well, not only me.”, he said, his gaze suddenly getting lost in the distance. “Who else?”, asked Michael, scratching his hairy pecs with his free hands. “No, just me. I got confused for a second,” said Iñigo, diverting his attention back to Michael. “Anyways, try it out and tell me your opinion.” Michael took the grape and put it in his mouth, its rich fruity flavor inundating his mind. He stayed quiet for a moment, his brain interpreting the taste and all the possible combinations with it. Iñigo leaned down playfully, looking for the student’s lost eyes. “And?” “Very tasty and rich in flavor. The tannins don’t taste that strong. It’s going to be a good crop. Malbec, right?” Iñigo smiled, partially surprised the student had such a wide viticulture. Michael smiled back at him, puffing out his chest proudly and standing straighter. He didn’t notice when his body stretched up a few inches. “Yes, it is. It’s the house’s specialty. We’re known for our wine’s rich and…” “…and spicy flavor. I know. Very impressive, Iñigo. Well done.” “If you want to try out some of the already prepared wine, let’s go to the winery. I assumed you would like wine, so I arranged a tasting for us.” “I love it. Thank you, Iñigo.”, said Michael taking the now shorter man’s hand, squeezing it tenderly. “Well, follow me then,'' said Iñigo, getting on his stallion and galloping uphill. Michael followed suit, and soon both men were entering the winery. The rich scent of freshly pressed grapes, wine and wood filled in their nostrils, as they made a small tour looking at the machinery and storage. The distillery was big enough to be the most important in town, with the wine getting exported nationally and internationally. Iñigo explained the process to make wine, and Michael listened carefully. A lot of things made more sense than he thought, almost like he was an expert oenologist himself. When they made it to the end of the tour, a small candle lit table was waiting for them next to the massive storage shelves filled with bottles. They sat on opposing sides, chatting gleefully about new production methods and marketing ideas. “I had no idea you’d be such a wine enthusiast”, said Iñigo taking a sip off his glass. “What can I say, wine culture is in my family.”, said Michael, his mind erasing the fact that his parents didn’t even drink. “And you, my friend, have truly made a name for yourself with this winery. Everything is exquisite.” Michael’s voice started to crack and drop, reaching a gruff bass deeper than Iñigo’s. His neck bulged out, thick cords of muscle climbing up from his traps to his head. “Only the best for you, my friend,'' said Iñigo, filling up the student’s glass. Both men looked up, staring at each other. Michael was finding it harder and harder not to throw himself on the Mexican man, and judging by his face, so was Iñigo. “So, Miguel, how have you liked your trip?” “Well, I certainly love the town. It’s filled with good people. Not to mention the rich cultural heritage.” “Tell me, what has been your favorite part?”, Iñigo asked, already knowing the answer. Neither one of them realized the conversation shifted naturally to Spanish, Michael speaking perfectly in the tonality of the region. “Well, the food is definitely tastier and richer, the architecture exquisite, a testament to both colonial and Mexican artistry, and the artistic talent lurking around every corner. I couldn’t possibly just choose one.” He stayed quiet for a moment, admiring Iñigo’s handsome face. “If I had to choose… I would choose you. You made the whole trip magical. I wish it wouldn’t end.” “It doesn’t have to,'' said Iñigo, getting closer. “You could stay. I’d like you to stay.” Michael looked down for a bit, a glimmer of his sorrow still present inside of him. “I can’t… I need to go back home.” “Why? You could start fresh here! Live a new life, and leave your past behind.” Michael’s head was spinning. Part of him was still attached to his pain, almost addicted to it. The pain he used as an excuse not to move forward, to stay tacit and not look for change. Even if that change brought happiness with it. But another part of him was telling him he belonged there. He could make his life, and the life of others, much better if he just let go off the past. The black stone in his pocket was pulsing, balancing the energy inside his body. Soon, the part of him that was frozen in the past started to get smaller, its voice drowning in the shine of the possible future. He was ready to take that leap of faith, and find a new destiny. Without saying a word, he got up and threw himself at Iñigo, their mouths interlocking in a passionate kiss. With a mighty push of his arm, he wiped the wooden table off the glasses and plates, and both men threw themselves on the sturdy surface, which miraculously stayed in one piece, supporting the weight of both massive bodies. Michael explored every corner of the Mexican man’s mouth, tasting the sweet aftermath of the wine. His jaw cracked and grew like a cinder block, ending with a cleft chin worthy of a superhero. The rough shadow of his beard stayed the same length, but a majestic handlebar of a mustache blossomed on his upper lip. He descended on Iñigo’s neck, biting and licking it, filling his lungs with the man’s strong scent. He could practically taste the wooden smell, along with the intoxicating natural musk product of an afternoon in the hot sunlight. Iñigo grabbed the student’s body with his both hands, feeling the vast expanse of his muscular back underneath his palms. With ease, Michael tore Iñigo’s shirt open, exposing a chiseled torso worthy of a renaissance marble sculpture. The light caramel tone of his skin only accentuated the deep cuts of his muscle. It wasn’t as massive as Michael’s, but much more meticulously sculpted to the point of obsession. He descended further, licking the man’s hard chest and tasting the salty flavor of fresh sweat. Michael’s face changed further, cracking and growing to match his new size. His brow was pronounced over his eyes, and his nose cracked and grew thicker, giving him a much rougher appearance than Iñigo. The hair on his head darkened, finally matching the pelt on his body, and styled itself into an elegant side part. Iñigo tore the student’s shirt open too, exposing the hairy mountains underneath. Even his back was hairy, sporting its own dark dusting. Michael’s pecs were round and heavy, less defined than Iñigo’s, but much more powerful-looking. He had to tear the sleeves apart, because the gargantuan arms wouldn’t fit through the openings anymore. Once Michael made it to the Mexican’s crotch, he swiftly undid the button and took his pants away, exposing some tight silk briefs with a massive bulge inside. Playfully, he bit the elastic and pulled it down, and Iñigo’s overgrown penis jumped out, almost slapping him on the face. With dexterity, he took the entire member inside his mouth and began massaging it with his tongue. Iñigo’s deep moans resonated through the rows of shelves, as he relished in the feelings that were spreading from his loins. Michael started to taste the flavor of the Mexican’s essence, which triggered another phase in his change. His muscles thickened and grew some more, gaining a layer of healthy fat over them. His stomach bulged out like a tortoise’s shell, worthy of a strongman more than a bodybuilder. His chest got heavier, and his ass bulged out further into a massive boulder. Then, his pale skin started to darken, acquiring the characteristic caramel tone of a Latin man. His features rearranged to cement his new heritage. After some minutes, he stopped sucking Iñigo’s manhood, and took off his own jeans, exposing his underwear. A small tent could be seen inside, the last remainder of his old body. In an impressive display of strength, he turned Iñigo around, took off his underwear, and started to rub himself against the man’s hard bubble butt. He got on top of him, their faces meeting once again, and tenderly kissed the Mexican’s cheek whilst opening his way inside of Iñigo. The Mexican man grunted; the slight pain being swiftly replaced by pleasure jolts that travelled across his body. Michael started to pump harder, his own deep moans overshadowing the other man’s. The pressure in the student’s own member started to grow, filling it with more blood and filling it beyond its limit. Thrust after thrust the manhood grew, until Michael had a penis comparable to a wine bottle. Iñigo was squirming underneath the much bigger man, his body almost unable to handle so much pleasure. Michael’s balls swelled as well, dropping lower and hitting the Mexican’s hamstrings in a constant rhythm. The overexposure to new hormones changed Michael’s body further. Muscles aged, looking more lived in. His skin roughened up some more, and sprinkles of white extended all over his body hair. His hairline receded, and his mustache acquired a gray hue. Crow’s feet extended from his eyes, giving the man’s new age away. With a powerful thrust, he inundated the Mexican’s gut with his seed, both men screaming in ecstasy. He fell on top of Iñigo, who finished a couple of times on the table. Both men were sweating profusely, the scent of sex almost overtaking the wine’s fruity smell. They cuddled in silence for a bit, enjoying the last orgasmic ripples leaving their bodies. “So, I hope I could convince you to stay,'' said Iñigo, rubbing his face against the bigger man’s hairy chest. “How could I leave? This is my home.”, said Michael, the new memories slowly overwriting his old ones. After getting dressed, both men left towards the hotel. Iñigo entered the room with Michael, and the two of them joined in passionate lovemaking the rest of the night, with the pale moon as their only witness watching peacefully from the big windows. When Michael opened his eyes, he was standing on the top of a green hill. The sun was shining, and he could feel the fresh spring breeze on his face. On top of the hill was a tree, and underneath its shadow laid Will, with his arms behind his head and his gaze fixed on the sky, watching the white clouds pass. The student walked towards the tree, and sat in the shade next to him. “This is it? The end? For your life?”, asked Will without looking at Michael. “No, Will. This is a new opportunity.” “Lucky you. You still have an opportunity.”, answered Will sarcastically, looking at Michael’s peaceful face. “So, what’s gonna happen to me?” Michael took a deep breath, enjoying the almost forgotten peace he so much craved. “You’re going to live inside of me. All the memories, all the experiences, all the laughs and jokes and surprises will be forever in my heart. But also, the grief, the loss, the impotence. I will never forget what you taught me.” Will looked at Michael quizzically, a hint of doubt still lurking behind his eyes. “I need to tell you one last thing. I’m sorry, Will. I’m sorry for not being the strong pillar you needed. I’m sorry for letting my own demons blind me from your pain. And most of all, I’m sorry for not expressing enough how accompanied you were. You were never alone. I need you to understand that. You were loved, and cared for. Despite what you might think, I was always there for you.”, said Michael, a tear slowly sliding down his cheek. “I forgive you. And, please, forgive me. I’m going to start a new life, and I need to let you go.” Will smiled, his somber demeanor fading away and leaving his usual playful side behind. “You were always the sentimental one. Fine, you have my blessing.”, he said standing up and heading down the hill. Before fading from view, he looked back at Michael. “You deserve to be happy. Glad you finally understood it.” And with that, he disappeared into the distance. Michael stood up and stretched. He felt the new weight on his body, and when he looked down he was greeted by his new form. His powerful chest was blocking his view from the lower side of his body, and he could feel his mustache quiver in the wind. He took one last breath, and let himself be swallowed by the sunlight. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer Michael, but Miguel. He looked to his side, to find Iñigo laying next to him, still sleeping. He got up and observed his surroundings. The room looked slightly changed, more lived in. The big closet was filled to the brim with different suits, boots and hats. The bathroom sink was full of lotions, creams and shaving utensils. Staring in the mirror he saw himself for the first time since the change. He looked imposing and regal, like a true gentleman. He stroked his thick mustache, feeling its softness with his fingers. He heard Iñigo groaning, so he headed into the room. Iñigo stared at him with his dark brown eyes, with the same infatuation from the first day they met. “Buenos días, amor,'' he said, getting up and planting a sweet kiss on the older man’s lips. Suddenly, Miguel’s mind filled in the holes of his new life. He was Miguel Rosales de la Fuente, owner of the hotel Real de Rosales, along with its vineyard and winery. A true staple in San Miguel de Allende’s society, and Iñigo de la Fuente’s husband. He felt the gold wedding ring on his finger, remembering the day he first saw Iñigo when he arrived in town almost thirty years ago. He was fresh out of university, and Iñigo was barely entering adulthood. He stayed in the de la Fuente’s family hostel, and soon grew fascinated with the town. He put his education to good use, and founded the winery. The hotel came afterwards, and soon the entire town revered him as a mentor. He was responsible for the many restoration processes all over town. He loved it, and did his best in keeping it in shape. Iñigo declared his love with many serenatas, and soon both men were tying the knot in an alternative ceremony. It was decades later when they were finally able to officialize their marriage, and they have been living and travelling the world ever since. Miguel liked to come back to town from time to time, always staying in his hotel. “Buenos días, cielo,'' said Miguel embracing the shorter man. “What’s your plan for today?” “I told Hector I would show him his new workout regime. The kid is growing big.” “I know, I’ve had to buy a couple of new uniforms for him this year alone.”, said Miguel flexing his biceps absentmindedly. “Mind if I join you? I need to let out some steam before the many scheduled reunions today. Gotta meet with the mayor for a new trash recycling plan, and if I don’t lift heavy, I’m going to have a difficult time keeping my temper.” “Sure! I’m certain Hector will appreciate having you around. Sometimes I feel you’re the one he takes seriously.” “It's probably because the mass impresses him!”, said Miguel laughing loudly, puffing out his chest. “You’re the expert in training, not me.” “That much is true. Let’s go then, you don’t wanna be late to your meetings. And we both know how much time you need to actually get ready.” Iñigo headed into the bathroom to wash himself, and Miguel approached the window, watching the whole vineyard before him. He really made a difference when he decided to stay in San Miguel de Allende. It was truly a magical town. He looked back at the bedside table. The onyx heart was laying there, its smooth surface glistening. Miguel smiled, thanking it quietly. Despite having adopted a new life, a last vestige of the person he used to be remained inside of him, to remind him how precious life was, and how you can always find a new destiny in the most unexpected places.
  5. armwreslr

    strength The Kid Freak (Part 6 Added)

    This is my first story. I intend on expanding it or continuing it. Let me know your thoughts. THE KID FREAK Oliver is just entering 12th grade, when he starts to notice some changes happening to him. Oliver had always been a tall, skinny, geeky kid with dark hair and green eyes. His mother is a Chemistry professor at a local college. She always encouraged her son to study, get good grades and perhaps be a professor one day. When Oliver wanted to play sports, she generally discouraged it. It’s the beginning of 12th grade and there’s a party at Candy Johnson’s house. Candy is a popular girl because she’s not just beautiful, she’s smart as well. Her parties always attracted the jocks and the nerds, a rare mix. Oliver is hanging with a couple of his World of Warcraft buddies, when an arm wrestling match breaks out between a couple of the big jocks at the kitchen table, Big Mike, from Oliver’s high school, and Brock, from a rival high school. They were both shirtless. Big Mike is 6’ tall, 230 lbs, but he’s not lean. He’s got brown hair and a scruffy face. He’s pretty thick. Brock is 6’1” tall and weighs 210 lbs with blonde hair and blue eyes but is pretty lean. The match starts, and Oliver is mesmerized by the test of strength. Both guys have pretty big arms, but Brock’s arms are more defined with a nice peak to his biceps. After about 30 seconds, Brock puts Big Mike down. “It’s getting easier to beat you, Fatty,” says Brock, with a big smile on his face. Big Mike responds, “The only reason you can beat me is because your father is a pro arm wrestler!” “He’s actually the Super Heavyweight World Champion!” says Brock. Brock catches Oliver staring at him. “You wanna arm wrestle, Nerd?” asks Brock. “Umm…no.” Oliver’s friends push him over to the kitchen table. Melvin, a nerdy, skinny kid with thick glasses, says, “C’mon Olly! You’re stronger than you think!” Brock puts his elbow on the table and wiggles his fingers. Oliver looks around at everyone staring and slowly puts his elbow on the table and locks hands with Brock. Big Mike starts them up. “Ready, Go!” Brock and Oliver start slow. Brock is smiling because he knows he has total control. He’s going against a skinny geek. Brock starts to put some real effort into putting Oliver down, but he’s noticing it’s much harder than expected. Big Mike says, “C’mon Brock, stop playin’! Put him down!” Brock pushes harder, but Oliver is not going down easily. Melvin pulls up the sleeve of Oliver’s oversized t-shirt to reveal a small, but ripped and peaked biceps. Big Mike’s eyes show surprise. “Holy shit! I didn’t expect that from Olly,” says Mike. Brock is sweating and now putting maximum effort into beating Oliver. After 45 seconds, he finally puts Oliver down. “Holy shit, Oliver! You’re a lot stronger than I expected. You put up a real fight!” exclaims Big Mike. Brock butts in, “No way, dude. You tired me out. I would destroy him fresh.” Big Mike pulls Oliver aside. “Have you ever lifted weights?” Oliver responds, “No. My mom never let me play any sports. She just wanted me to study.” “Bro, let me train you. You have incredible potential,” says Mike. “You really think so?” “Fuck yeah, I do. Somehow, you’ve built some muscle and strength from doing nothing. Let’s see what you can do if you actually lift weights and challenge yourself.” Oliver agrees to do it. *** Oliver shows up to the football gym with Brock, after all the players have left. “Let’s get some baseline measurements, Olly. Take your shirt off and jump on the scale.” Oliver looks around. “No one is here, buddy,” says Mike. Oliver takes off his shirt. “You’re quite skinny, but you don’t have an ounce of fat.” Oliver has a lot of veins showing as well. Oliver steps on the scale. “Okay, your height is 6 feet tall, and you weigh 155 pounds. Let’s measure your arm.” Oliver flexes his arm and a small, but ripped and peaked biceps appears. Mike measures it. “Wow, Olly, you’re not big, but your bicep is peaked and has great shape. It’s almost 15 inches.” “Really?” asks Oliver. “I swear. When you start to add size, I wouldn’t be surprised if you could be a serious bodybuilder.” “But I want to be strong, so people like Brock can’t pick on me or make fun of me anymore.” “Olly, there is something about you. I think you could be, not just a bodybuilder, but maybe one of the strongest bodybuilders.” “I’m just a nerd,” says Oliver. “I know it appears that way, but something in my gut is telling me different,” responds Mike. Mike takes a couple more measurements. Waist, 27 inches. Quads, 23 inches. Mike takes Oliver over to the bench press. “I’m going to test your strength in different exercises to get your baseline max in each exercise. Then we can measure again every few months.” Oliver agrees. After several warmup sets, Mike puts 155 lbs on the bar. “Anyone that can bench press their bodyweight for 10 reps is considered to be in good shape.” Oliver takes the bar and starts to bench press. He presses it 10 times very easily. “Yes! Too easy!” says Mike. Mike loads 225 lbs. Oliver bench presses it for 5 reps. Mike loads 275 lbs. Oliver bench presses it for 1 rep. “Holy shit, Olly! I knew it! I knew there was something about you.” Oliver is surprised. “Is this considered good?” “Bro, you’re skinny as fuck weighing 155 lbs, and you just bench pressed 275 lbs! And look at yourself in the mirror!” Oliver goes to the mirror. He’s never seen his muscles pumped. He’s sweaty and shiny. His chest is showing a little thickness and rips like he’s never seen before. Abs are shredded. He flexes his arms, and they appear bigger and more ripped. Oliver finishes the rest of the tests. He ended up squatting and deadlifting 305 lbs. He curled 120 lbs on a straight bar. Oliver and Mike agree to keep training together and to keep everything under wraps. No showing off, and Oliver will continue wearing baggy clothes to hide his gains until they decide to reveal them. *** Over the entire 12th grade and into the summer, Mike trained Oliver in secret, nearly every day. Mike and Oliver were shocked at Oliver’s gains. The main state college branch is in their hometown, and freshman year has started, so Mike takes down Oliver’s stats and tests his strength. Height, 6’. Weight, 180 lbs. Biceps, 18.5”. Waist, 28.5”. Quads, 25”. One rep maxes…Bench press, 495 lbs. Straight bar curls, 225 lbs. Squat, 725 lbs. Deadlift, 755 lbs. Oliver asks, “So, honestly, Mike, how do you think I’m doing?” Mike shakes his head in astonishment. “Bro, you’ve far exceeded my expectations. In one year, you look like a real competitive bodybuilder, but what’s blowing my mind, is your strength to weight ratio.” “What about it,” asks Oliver. “You totally don’t get it, do you,” asks Mike. Oliver has a blank stare. “Bro, at this rate, you’re going to be benching over 600 lbs in a few months and maybe you’ll be the lightest person to ever do that,” Mike exclaims. “Whoa…” Oliver is blown away. “I had no idea.” Mike nods his head. “Maybe it’s time for you to test your strength against others.” Oliver smiles. *** A couple months later, it’s time for Candy’s yearly party. Big Mike takes Oliver with him. It’s chilly outside, so Oliver wears a jacket. Oliver and Mike go into the house. It’s quite warm with all the kids partying. They go into the kitchen, where there are about 15 guys and girls. Mike grabs a beer for Oliver. Oliver takes a sip and looks at Mike. He processes the taste. He looks at Mike and smiles. “I never thought I would like beer, but it’s actually pretty good,” says Oliver. An hour goes by, and Mike and Oliver drink about 6 or 7 beers, when Oliver’s nerdy friends show up. “Oliver!” screams Melvin. A big smile comes across Oliver’s face. Melvin shakes Mike’s hand and then Oliver’s. “It’s been a year, since I’ve seen you, Olly,” says Melvin. “I know. Big Mike here has been training me, so I haven’t had a lot of time. I miss you guys.” “Yeah, I knew something was up, and when I just shook your hand, it’s so much bigger,” says Melvin. “Come here. I want you to feel something,” says Oliver. Mike smirks. Melvin comes in close. Oliver flexes his biceps by his side. His jacket arm fills out. Melvin’s eyes get big. He puts both hands around Oliver’s biceps. “Oh my God, Oliver!” Oliver’s heart rate increases with the exhilaration of his friend. “Your arms are massive and hard as a rock!” Oliver smiles and looks at Mike, who nods back at him. “I can’t wait to show you what I can do with this muscle,” says Oliver. Mike says, “It won’t be long. Look who showed up.” Brock walks into the kitchen with a couple friends, Jeff and Scott, both pretty big guys. He’s wearing a tank top and looking bigger and leaner than last year. Brock sees Big Mike. “Yo, Mike! You’re looking bigger than last year,” says Brock. “I am bigger,” replies Mike. “Not as big as this,” says Brock. Brock hits a double biceps shot showing off his 18-inch biceps. “That’s true, but your arms aren’t as big as Olly’s,” says Mike. “What? The nerd I beat last year?” asks Brock. “I wouldn’t call him that anymore, Brock. Show him, Olly.” Oliver steps forward and looks at Mike. Mike nods his head. Oliver is sweating profusely from wearing the jacket in the hot house. Oliver slowly unzippers his jacket. First a glimpse of his chest and then his abs. He removes his jacket and a few audible gasps come from some of the kids in the kitchen. “Oh my God,” says Melvin. Oliver is standing there, dripping sweat, pumped and totally ripped with thick slabs of muscle and not an ounce of fat. Even Mike is shocked. “Show the arm wrestler some real arms, Olly,” says Mike. Oliver hits a front double biceps shot. His arms are ripped with huge peaks, hitting 19.5” with a thick biceps vein. “You may be big, but I’ll destroy you in arm wrestling. I just won the state championship,” exclaims Brock. Mike says, “Let’s do this!” Brock takes a seat at the end of the long kitchen table as does Oliver. They put their elbows on the table and clasp hands. Some of the kids start recording video with their phones. Jeff starts them off. “Ready, Go!” Brock screams and hits first bringing Oliver’s arm down about halfway. Brock laughs. Brock leans in with his shoulder putting all his weight into it to put down Oliver. Mike screams, “C’mon Olly! Don’t let him intimidate you! You’re stronger than he is! Get angry!” Oliver screams and starts pulling hard. His biceps vein starts to pop thicker, and the cords of muscle of his biceps start to increase in prominence. Oliver bends his wrist activating his huge forearms, pumping bigger. Oliver’s biceps start to peak larger as he starts to move Brock’s arm up. “Jesus, look at the kid’s arm,” says one of the guys watching. Oliver pulls his arm almost back to the center position, when Brock grabs the side of the table with his free arm. He screams and using all his strength pulls Oliver back down to the halfway point again. Mike screams, “Brock is cheating grabbing onto the side of the table!” Jeff responds, “No way, bro. Arm wrestling tables have pegs on the side to grab, so it’s fair.” “Okay, but the table is too long for Olly to grab the side with his hand,” retorts Mike. Jeff just shrugs his shoulders. Melvin screams, “C’mon Olly. Show me that muscle, that strength!” Oliver grunts loud and pulls hard, but he can’t move Brock. “No way you can pull through this!” Brock laughs. Oliver screams and pulls with everything he has. At first, he doesn’t move, but after a few seconds, Oliver starts to move Brock’s arm back. Jeff screams, “No way! He’s doin’ it!” Scott adds, “Yeah, and he’s doing it with just one arm!” Oliver’s skin is paper-thin showing all the muscle fibers in his cannonball shoulder and his biceps and triceps, rippling. His biceps is peaking extremely high as he gets back to the center. Melvin says, “Jesus, his arm is more massive than Brock’s!” Brock gets angry and screams trying to pull Oliver back down, but Oliver is ready for it and holds him there. Brock tries several times but can’t break through. Oliver screams and starts to pull Brock down. Oliver’s abs and chest are completely shredded as those muscle groups help with the effort. Oliver’s biceps vein is pumping huge amounts of blood to the muscle as it continues overpowering Brock’s efforts. Brock screams and tries will all his strength to stop Oliver, but Oliver’s ripped muscle is just too strong. “Yeah,” screams Oliver as he continues pushing Brock’s arm down. Oliver stops his assault with Brock’s wrist three inches above the table. He looks at Brock. Oliver shifts his weight and arm position so that he’s just using his triceps. “Give me everything you have,” says Oliver. Brock screams, trying to pull with everything he has. Oliver’s triceps explodes as he takes everything Brock has and overpowers him, slowly pushing Brock’s arm down. Scott says, “Holy shit! The kid’s just using his triceps to overpower Brock! That’s just raw strength!” A few seconds later, Oliver pushes Brock’s arm to the table. Mike screams, “Yeah! You did it, Olly!” “You cheated! You had to have cheated,” said Brock. “Bullshit! I even let you use both hands,” screams Oliver. Brock looks around the room. “You all better delete those videos before I beat your asses.” One of the kids says, “Sorry man. I think that kid Joey was live on Instagram.” “I’m gonna kill him,” Brock screams. Brock runs out looking for Joey. Oliver turns to Mike, “I was acting.” “What,” asks Mike. Oliver responds, “Yeah, he was very easy to arm wrestle. I just screamed for effect.” Mike smiles. “Son of a bitch! You’re getting too strong!” Mike and Oliver grab another beer. All of a sudden, there is a commotion out back by the pool. Mike and Oliver walk out to see what’s going on. Everyone is surrounding some big man, trying to get autographs. “Holy shit! It’s Grip Master,” screams Mike. “Who’s that,” asks Oliver. “He’s a huge professional wrestler that beats his opponents in unbreakable wrestling holds,” Mike responds. “Candy’s older brother is friends with him,” he adds. As Mike and Oliver approach, some of the kids gasp as they see Oliver, pumped and sweaty from his arm wrestling match. Grip Master, who has a shaved head and is 6’5” tall and weighs 310 lbs, looks over to see what’s going on. Mike says, “Hey Grip Master! Huge fan! Could we get a pic with you?” Grip Master responds, “Well, shit, this guy is going to out angle me.” Mike says, “Naa, he’s a kid. He doesn’t even watch pro wrestling.” Grip Master asks, “Wait, he’s a kid?” “Yeah, he’s just 19 years old, but he’s a KID FREAK.” “How big are you,” asks Grip Master. “I’m 6 feet tall and weigh 205 lbs,” says Oliver. “You look much bigger than that,” says Grip Master. Mike adds, “What’s freaky is his strength. The kid bench pressed 585 lbs yesterday in his workout, and he did it easily.” Grip Master gives a skeptical look and says, “I seriously doubt that. I can bench press 680 lbs, and I’m much bigger than him. No one can bench press 585 lbs at his bodyweight.” Mike responds, “It’s true! If we had a bench press here, Olly could show you.” Mike thinks for a second. “What if he could break one of your unbreakable wrestling holds? Would you believe him if he could do that?” Mike asks. “Yeah, but we all know that’s impossible,” Grip Master responds. Oliver adds, “Please, let’s try it. I want to test my strength against you.” Grip Master starts to walk around Oliver, slowly, eyeing him up and down. Mike starts recording video on his phone. Grip Master slips behind Oliver and wraps his arms around Oliver’s torso from the back, putting him into a reverse bearhug, pinning his arms by his side. Oliver winces in pain. All the kids gather around to watch this test of strength. Some are recording it with their phones. Grip Master lifts Oliver off the ground, shaking him and crushing him. Oliver tries to pull his right arm up. His shoulder is ripped and pumped as he puts forth the effort. His arm starts to slowly slide up, especially will all the slippery sweat. He frees his right arm and starts on his left arm, pulling up. Grip Master is tightening his hold, but Oliver is strong enough with the slickness of his body to pull out his left arm. Now Grip Master tightens his hold enough to push the air out of Oliver’s lungs. He starts coughing. “C’mon Oliver! You have to break his grip,” screams Mike. “No way he can do that,” screams one of the kids. Oliver breaths in deep and screams, hitting a massive front double biceps shot. Gasps from the crowd as they are in awe of his massive and shredded physique. Grip Master’s hold is that he’s grabbing his right wrist with his left hand. Oliver crisscrosses his hands, grabbing Grip Master’s right fist with his right hand and grabbing Grip Master’s left hand with his left hand. Oliver screams and starts pulling apart as if he’s trying to bend the bars of a steel cage. His biceps explode in size with thick biceps veins pumping massive amounts of blood to his incredible ripped muscle. Every muscle fiber can be seen. His lats expand with the massive effort being put forth. Grip Master is holding the grip in place. “Nice try kid, but you’re going to have to try harder than that,” says Grip Master. Oliver screams and pulls harder. His biceps seem to be getting larger with the effort as well as his forearms. Sweat is dripping down his heaving chest and his chiseled abs. Grip Master seems to be starting to labor a bit. One of the kids says, “This kid is ripped as fuck, and he’s making Grip Master work!” Hearing that excites Oliver. Oliver screams again increasing the pressure. Grip Master starts to breath heavy. Another kid says, “This kid’s arms are huge.” “Yeah, and his strength is insane,” responds another. Oliver goes nuts after hearing that, screams and pulls with everything he has. His ripped biceps are nearly exploding with every muscle fiber showing through his paper-thin skin. His shoulders are huge, round and ripped. Abs are shredded. Oliver looks down at his own body, in awe of his incredible strength. He slowly starts to pull apart Grip Master’s unbreakable reverse bearhug. “Yeah,” Oliver screams as he feels himself overpower the strongest grip in professional wrestling. Oliver can hear the kids… “Impossible,” “No way,” “He’s breaking free!” Oliver slowly pulls his hands apart. Grip Master screams and, using his incredible chest strength, stops Oliver. Grip Master tries to close it back up, but somehow Oliver’s arms and shoulders begin to overpower Grip Master’s incredible chest strength, continuing to pull apart his arms. Grip Master falls backwards, staring at his hands in shock. He then looks back at Oliver as Oliver turns back around. Oliver screams and hits a front double biceps, with biceps that must be over 20 inches, pumped. Mike walks over to Oliver. “Believe it now, Grip Master,” asks Mike. “Hell yeah. I’ve never felt that much power before from anyone!” Oliver smiles. *** Another year goes by. Mike continues training Oliver in secret. Somehow Oliver continues making incredible gains in size and strength. Oliver’s latest stats are: Height, 6’. Bodyweight, 230 lbs. Biceps, 22 inches. Waist, 30 inches. Quads, 28 inches. Oliver’s strength level is incredible with a 685 lb bench press, 275 lb strict straight bar curl, 960 lb squat and a 980 lb deadlift. His bodyfat is as low as it has ever been. “How would you like to test your physique against bodybuilders and your strength against arm wrestlers, powerlifters and strongmen, all in the same day,” asks Mike. “Hell, yeah, but where can we do this?” “At the Arnold Classic this weekend. It’s two months away. Let’s see what kind of gains you can make until then.” responds Mike. Oliver says, “Let’s do it!” *** Mike and Oliver are in their hotel room at the Arnold Classic. They are lying in their beds resting. “You awake,” asks Oliver. “Yeah, what’s up?” “My mom hasn’t really spoken with me much about my gains. I thought it was weird because she never encouraged me to do any athletic or physical activity. It was always about studying. So, I asked her if she was shocked by my transformation,” says Oliver. “Okay,” responds Mike Oliver continues, “She says she wasn’t. She met my father in a one night stand. She never even got a picture with him, but he was an incredibly built man with muscles everywhere and no bodyfat. What made her lust for him was an incredible feat of strength he performed.” “What did he do?” “A car accident happened in front of a gym. He was training after hours. My mom was waiting for a taxi, when a car went out of control up onto the sidewalk and hit and ran over an old man. His leg was pinned under the tire. Without thinking, my father put his hands under the passenger side of the car, screamed and lifted the side of the car up. She pulled the old man out from under the car.” “Holy shit,” exclaims Mike. “Yeah, that night they went to dinner together and had sex. He left the country never to be seen or heard from again. She suspects that he was likely married and ashamed. She never told me all this because she didn’t want me to go down that path.” “Oh man. I’m really sorry to hear that.” “Here’s the interesting part. My mom asked how he got so strong. He told her the usual stuff about lifting heavy weights, but he also told her he had a rare genetic mutation that not only allowed for good muscle growth but allowed for the muscle to contract extremely hard. His nervous system was also somehow enhanced. A year after I was born, she got me tested, and I have the same condition as my father.” “Wow! This is incredible. I wonder what your limits are,” said Mike. “I don’t know, but I’m going to push myself to get stronger than any human alive,” exclaims Oliver. “Hell yeah!” Mike jumps out of bed. “Since we’re going to hit bodybuilding first, let’s put on your last coat of tan,” says Mike. Over the next hour, Mike paints Oliver’s skin with the bodybuilding posing tan making his skin dark, which shows the cuts and rips in Oliver’s muscle much better, especially under bright lights. Mike gives him a pair of posing trunks to wear under his clothes. Mike and Oliver enter the ballroom where they have bodybuilding. The press conference just ended, and they’re getting some photos and videos of Rob Coulson, last year’s Arnold Amateur champion, who is competing at the pro bodybuilding competition. He’s considered to have some of the best arms in bodybuilding. He’s a top contender to win. Off to the side of the stage, Mike has Oliver strip off his clothes. Mike quickly puts a light coating of oil on Oliver’s body. While Rob is hitting some poses, Oliver jumps up onto the stage from the ground, which grabs everyone’s attention, since the stage is very high. A couple whistles from the small crowd still there with photographers. Rob laughs at Oliver jumping up on stage. He hits a front double biceps shot. Oliver stands next to him and hits a front double biceps shot. A few audible gasps from the crowd. Oliver’s arms appear to be bigger than Rob’s arms. Not only that, he’s so ripped that you can see every muscle fiber in his arms, chest and completely shredded quads. Rob’s girlfriend screams for him to do his money shot, his back double biceps. So, Rob and Oliver turn around. They both hit their back double biceps shot. “Oh my God,” says Rob’s girlfriend. Oliver has him beat on his best shot, with bigger, more peaked arms, larger and more ripped shoulders and a much wider back. Oliver’s hamstrings are also bigger. One of the photographers says, “Who’s this kid? He’s destroying Rob.” Mike steps up and says, “His name is Oliver. He’s 20 years old and just getting into bodybuilding.” The photographer screams, “20? Are you fucking kidding me?” Someone screams, “Hit a most muscular shot!” Rob and Oliver turn around and both hit a most muscular crab shot. Oliver is matching Rob’s size from a muscular standpoint, but he’s much more shredded. Oliver’s chest is completely ripped with monster shoulders and traps. The biceps veins are nearly exploding they’re so thick. Abs are like steel armor. Oliver’s quad sweep is also wider and denser than Rob’s. “This kid could have won the show,” exclaims one photographer. Rob gets angry and walks off the stage. Mike gives the photographers contact info for Oliver. Oliver jumps off the stage and puts on a pair of shorts over his posing trunks. They exit the ballroom and go to the main wing of the expo where they have all the other events and activities. About as soon as they enter the expo hall, a bunch of people come over wanting pictures with Oliver. He’s shirtless and wearing shorts that show off his massive quads and calves. They make their way to the Animal Cage where they are starting a bench press competition. Mike registered Oliver for the contest. There are 10 competitors, most are big and fat, but powerful men. Oliver weighs in at 245 lbs and is easily the leanest competitor. The biggest and strongest competitor, nicknamed Grizzly, is 6’5” tall and weighs in at 330 lbs. Grizzly says, “Boy. You a bodybuilder? Cause you gonna git hurt here. This ain’t no play time in the gym. This is big boy weight.” He laughs. Everyone submits on written cards what their first lift will be. The announcer gets on the microphone. The announcer says, “Okay folks. We’re getting started with 405 pounds on the bar, and we’ll finish with Grizzly with 675 pounds…wait…there must be a mistake here. Who is Oliver? Oliver raises his hand and says, “Me sir!” Someone in the crowd says, “Holy shit! He’s jacked as fuck!” Announcer asks, “You’re opening with 685 pounds? Is that a mistake? Because no one has ever opened with that much weight, and honestly son, you don’t look like you could do something like that.” Oliver responds, “Yes sir. 685 pounds is my opener. I want to make sure I get the lift, so I can go heavier.” Announcer asks, “So this is easy for you?” Oliver says, “Yes sir.” Grizzly yells, “I smell bullshit! No one can beat me in bench press, especially not some bodybuilder!” The competition starts, and Oliver warms up. They get to Grizzly, and he presses 675 lbs, with a huge effort. The staff loads 685 lbs onto the bar. Oliver lays down on the bench. The crowd quiets down to watch. Oliver grabs the bar. Announcer asks, “You want a liftoff young man?” Oliver says, “No sir. I got this.” Oliver lifts the bar off the rack. He slowly lowers the weight and touches his chest, holding the bar there.” Judge says, “Press!” Oliver pushes the bar back with incredible power. It flies up. Judge says, “Rack it!” Oliver puts the bar back. He gets a good lift signal. He jumps up and hits a most muscular shot. He’s sweating profusely. The crowd goes wild. Grizzly throws down his belt. Everyone submits their lifts. Oliver is doing 720 lbs. Grizzly finds out and puts 725 lbs for himself. Fifteen minutes later, 720 lbs is loaded onto the bar. Oliver sits on the end of the bench and flexes his pecs several times. His chest is shredded and sweaty. Mike comes over to give him a liftoff. Mike says, “You got this Olly. Let’s put this guy out of his misery.” Oliver screams, “Hell yeah!” He lays on the bench. He nods his head for Mike to give the liftoff. He lowers the bar and holds it on his chest. Judge says, “Press!” Oliver screams and presses the bar extremely hard. The bar goes up steadily and fairly quickly. Judge says, “Rack!” Oliver racks it and get a good lift signal. He jumps up and hits a double biceps shot. Someone from the crowd, “Jesus, this kid is an animal.” Grizzly is up. 725 lbs is loaded onto the bar. He sits down. He sniffs a bottle of smelling salts, throws it aside and screams. He lays down. His spotter gives him a liftoff. He lowers the bar and stops on his chest. Judge says, “Press!” Grizzy screams and pushes. The bar goes up very slowly. It gets stuck halfway up, but after a couple seconds, he screams and is able to slowly push through to a lockout. Judge says, “Rack!” Grizzy racks it. He sits up, and his nose is bleeding. He stands up and then stumbles. A couple staff help him to his chair. Everyone is submitting final lifts, except for Grizzy. He’s going to stick with his last lift of 725 lbs. Mike says, “That last lift went up really fast. I don’t know…you think you could do 750, or is that just too much?” Oliver thinks for a couple seconds and says, “Fuck it! Let’s do it!” After 15 minutes, it’s Oliver’s turn. 750 lbs is loaded onto the bar. Announcer says, “This kid has already broken records today. Now he’s going for 750 lbs, more than three times his bodyweight. He’s completely ripped up, and he’s only 20 years old!” The crowd cheers. Oliver sits on the bench, flexing his chest and arms. He lays back and screams. Mike comes over and grabs the bar. Oliver nods his head for the liftoff. Mike does it and steps back. Oliver takes a deep breath and lowers the bar. He touches and holds the bar on his chest. The judge waits an extra seconds before giving the signal. Judge says, “Press!” Oliver screams and starts pressing. His chest is pumped and shredded. His triceps are popping out and ripped. The bar slowly goes up. It slows down near the halfway mark. Oliver screams again using his chest power to press the bar high and higher, until he finally locks out. Judge says, “Rack!” Oliver racks the bar. The good lift signal is given. The crowd erupts in cheers. Grizzly walks out. Oliver hits a huge most muscular shot. Mike comes over and gives Oliver a hug. Mike says, “Bro! I’m blown away!” “Me too man! I can’t believe it! It’s like nothing can stop me!” Mike says, “Maybe nothing or no one can!” They exit the cage and go onto the next event. Mike says, “I think you’re going to like this next event. It will really test your strength like nothing has before.” Mike and Oliver enter the Bending Arena. Oliver’s eyes light up. There are all kinds of things to bend here, including nails, thick bolts, tools, including wrenches. They have steel bars to bend like on World’s Strongest Man from the 1980s and 1990s. A big sign says… “WHOEVER BENDS THE THICKEST BAR TODAY, WINS A FREE SET OF CAPTAINS OF CRUSH GRIPPERS!” Mike and Oliver go over to the steel bars. Jake is managing the challenge. “Wow, you must be a bodybuilder,” says Jake. Oliver says, “Well, I…” “He’s really a power bodybuilder,” says Mike. Oliver smiles. Jake says, “Well, you’re in the right spot if you want to test you strength.” Oliver asks, “What are the Captains of Crush Grippers?” Jake breaks out all the grippers ranging from Captains of Crush (CoC) 1 all the way to a 4. Jake says, “They range in strength from level 1 to level 4. Only 5 people in the world have ever closed a number 4.” Oliver says, “I have to try that!” Jake says, “Okay big boy, let’s start you off with a number 2. Most bodybuilders can barely do that.” Oliver takes the number 2 and puts it in his hand. He closes it, and his forearms pump up. He closes it for reps. After he hits 20 reps, Jake stops him. Oliver says, “I’ll take the number 4 now.” “I don’t think you should jump up to it right away, but here you go.” A crowd starts to form to watch Oliver. Jake records video using his phone. Oliver places the number 4 gripper in his hand. He takes a couple deep breaths, screams and squeezes as hard as he can. He closes it. Jake screams, “Holy shit!” Oliver lets it open and closes it again. And again. Veins are snaking in his forearm pumping it close to 19 inches thick. And then he holds the gripper closed for 20 seconds. Jake screams, “Yeah! What a pump!” Mike says, “Bro, your forearm is massive!” Oliver flexes his forearm for the camera. Oliver says, “Let me bend some bars.” Jake says, “Normally I’d start someone with a 1/2” thick steel bar to try, but you’re much stronger than the guys that usually come over here. Here’s a 5/8” thick steel bar that’s 4 feet long.” Oliver grabs the bar and holds it at either end. Jake continues, “So before you try anything, let me tell you how to properly bend…Wait!” Oliver starts pushing on the bar, trying to bend it. Jake says, “Hold on man! You can’t bend it in front of your body like that. It’s impossible!” A guy from the crowd says, “Have you ever seen anyone so ripped?” Oliver screams. His chest and abdominals are shredded. His biceps are popping. Another scream and slowly the bar starts to bend. Jake says, “No way!” Oliver continues pouring his strength into bending the bar in front of his body. After a few seconds, the ends of the bar touch. Oliver drops the bar and hits a double biceps shot, screaming, “Yeah!” Jake says, “Holy shit! I did not expect that.” Mike asks, “What’s your thickest bar?” Jake responds, “Well, it’s called the Ultimate, and it’s not really meant to be bent.” Mike asks, “What do you mean?” Jake says, “Well, it’s 1 and 1/4 inch thick cold-rolled steel at 5 feet in long. It’s believed that no one can really bend it. That’s why there is a cash prize for anyone that can bend it just with their upper body and make the ends touch, wins $100,000. That’s just impossible.” Oliver’s eyes get big and says, “I gotta fuckin’ try it!” Jake says, “You can try it, but no one has even come close to making the tiniest of bends in the bar. It’s still perfectly straight.” Mike asks, “How quickly would Oliver get the money if he does it?” “It’s an instant bank transfer,” says Jake. Jake gives Oliver the bar and a thick bath towel. Jake says, “This time you won’t be able to bend it in front of your body.” “So, what do I do?” Jake responds, “Fold the towel and put it on your head for protection. Put the bar on top, using your head as a leverage point. Bend the bar down as far as you can, then put it behind your neck and bend it until the ends touch.” Oliver folds the towel and puts it on his head. The crowd is getting really big now. Oliver places the bar on top and grabs the ends of the bar with his hands. Mike screams, “You can do this Olly! No one has ever bent a bar this thick! You’re gonna do it in front of all these people, not as some fat strongman, but as a ripped-up power bodybuilder. No one has ever seen anything like this before! You can do it!” Oliver takes a couple deep breaths and screams. He pulls down hard, but the bar doesn’t budge. He takes a break. Jake says, “I told you bro. You can’t do it. No one can.” Oliver goes nuts and screams and pulls with everything he has. His biceps explode into huge ripped peaks. His lats flare out wider than ever. His abdominals contract as hard as they ever have before. At first, nothing happens, but after a few seconds, a squeal comes from the bar. The bar starts to slowly bend under Oliver’s strength. His lats are contracting so hard, you can see every muscle fiber. Oliver screams again pouring all of his strength into the task of bending the thickest steel ever bent by a human. The crowd starts talking… “Oh my God!” “He’s doing it!” “He’s fuckin’ ripped up!” “That’s just raw strength!” Jake is in complete awe of Oliver’s ripped strength. Jake says, “He’s bending the unbendable!” Oliver bends the bar halfway and stops for a second. He screams again and continues bending the bar until it’s about a 90-degree angle and can’t bend further on his head. He’s sweating profusely. He drops the bar behind his neck. Using his chest, he tries to crush the bar in, but it’s still a bit too wide for that. Oliver tilts the bar behind his neck, so that the end in his left hand is now down by his hip. The end of the bar in his right hand is above his head. Bracing the left end against his body, Oliver screams and pulls down on the bar with his right hand. Someone from the crowd says, “Jesus Christ! Look at the kid’s arm!” Oliver’s 22-inch right biceps explodes into ripped glory pulling the bar down, dripping sweat. His abs contracting hard to stabilize his core. Oliver screams again! The impossible to bend cold-rolled steel tries to resist, but Oliver’s biceps is just too strong, bending it more and more. “Yeah,” screams Oliver as he dominates the bar. Now the bar is at a 45-degree angle. Oliver centers the bar behind his neck, with his arms on both ends of the bar. Oliver screams and pushes the ends of the bar towards each other. His chest and abs are ripped to the bone. His chest is heaving and pumping blood as massive amounts of strength pass through to his hands. Oliver screaming and pushing slowly presses the ends of the bar towards each other. After several seconds, the ends touch. Jake, in utter disbelief, faints for a moment. Oliver lifts the bar from his neck and throws it to the ground. He hits a huge most muscular shot as the crowd cheers and then a huge front double biceps shot. Mike then hugs him, and Oliver hugs him back. People in the crowd come up to congratulate him and get pictures. Finally, Oliver gets a bank transfer from Jake’s company. Mike says, “It looks like we just have one more stop.” Oliver responds, “Arm wrestling!” Mike nods his head. Oliver adds, “You think Brock’s Dad, Titus, will accept my challenge?” “Well, he is the Super Heavyweight World Champion, so he may not take you too seriously. You’re only 20 years old, and arm wrestlers always think they can destroy bodybuilders. But, you do have some money that you can put up to sweeten the pot.” Oliver says, “Yes!” On the way to the arm wrestling competition, they stop to get some burgers and refuel. Oliver eats six double cheeseburgers and six orders of fries. They finally arrive at the arm wrestling contest. It doesn’t start for another 15 minutes. Mike speaks with the promoters to try to get Titus to take on Oliver. At first the promoters said no because Oliver hasn’t competed and earned a spot to challenge Titus. When Mike offered Titus $20,000 to take the match, he accepted. Announcer says, “It’s time to get started! Up first is a best of three supermatch between your current super heavyweight world champion, 6’3” tall, 350 pounds of solid mass, with 23-inch arms and 20-inch forearms…Titus!” Cheers from the crowd as Titus walks out. The announcer continues, “His challenger is a complete unknown but considers himself a power bodybuilder, 6’ tall weighing 245 pounds of completely ripped muscle, 22-inch arms and only 20 years old…Oliver! The usual audible gasps form the audience. Brock looks up in shock. Brock says, “No way! Oliver is challenging my Dad? Jesus, he really packed on some size.” Titus and Oliver both come to the table. Oliver asks for his arms to be measured since it’s been a couple months, and he still has a pump from the bar bending. The referee measures Oliver’s arm. The referee says, “It looks to be…22 and 3/4…wait…23 inches…matching Titus!” “Looks so much bigger than Titus,” says one guy from the crowd. His friend responds, “Yeah, cause he’s got a huge peak and the muscle is completely ripped up.” Oliver smiles. The referee measures his forearm. “The bodybuilder’s forearm is 19.5”, just under Titus!” Oliver smiles and nods his head. Titus says, “You think cause you have a little muscle you can challenge me? Kid, I have over 20 years of experience in arm wrestling. I know every technique and trick in the book, and I haven’t lost a match in over three years! No way you can beat this arm!” With that, Titus flexes his right arm to cheers in the crowd. Oliver responds, “I’m tired of your son bullying kids, so I’m going to teach you a lesson. I don’t need any arm wrestling techniques or tricks. I’m gonna beat you with raw strength!” Oliver hits a double biceps shot, totally ripped with a light coat of sweat for shine. The crowd starts talking… “That kid’s arms are bigger than Titus’!” “Have you ever seen someone so shredded?” Titus gets mad and slams his elbow on the pad. Oliver grips up and squeezes Titus’ hand. Titus tries to pull out, but Oliver’s grip is too strong. Finally, Oliver lets Titus slip out and re-grip. The referee starts the match. “Ready, Go!” Titus hits hard, but Oliver holds him. Titus hits harder and pulls Oliver’s arm down just a bit off center. The crowd doesn’t know how to react. “That kid is holding back Titus!” Titus screams and goes all out trying to pull down Oliver. Oliver does go down a little until Oliver screams and starts pulling with everything he has. He stops Titus and starts to pull Titus back up. Oliver’s arm is incredibly shredded showing every muscle fiber working. His chest is ripped and sweat is pouring off his body. “Yeah,” Oliver screams. Oliver gets their arms back to the center starting position. Brock screams, “Arm Lock! Dad, use your Arm Lock!” Titus shifts his weight and his arm position, essentially locking his arm into place, making it very difficult, if not impossible to move. Oliver is confused. He’s not sure how Titus is blocking him from pulling his arm down. “Yes, just hold him there, Dad! He’ll burn out soon,” screams Brock. Another grunt from Oliver, but he can’t move Titus. Titus smiles. “No one has ever broken through my Arm Lock, kid. Not even the strongest arm wrestlers,” says Titus. “I’m a power bodybuilder, and this ripped muscle is gonna bust through your Arm Lock.” Titus laughs. Oliver screams and pulls harder. His biceps seeming to pump larger, and his forearms expand with corded muscle trying to push through his paper-thin skin. Titus’ smile goes away. “This kid has some serious muscle,” says someone from the crowd. “Yeah, his biceps are really peaked, but I don’t know if he has the strength to pull through Titus’ Arm Lock. It’s impossible,” says his friend. Oliver hears this talk from the crowd. It gets him very excited. Oliver screams again and pulls with everything he has. His chest is shredded and pouring on the strength that can bench press well over 700 lbs. His biceps and forearms that curl nearly 300 lbs are increasing the pressure that no one else can create. “You can do it,” screams Mike. “This kid…I’ve never seen so much ripped muscle,” exclaims someone from the crowd. Oliver very slightly moves Titus’ arm. Titus’ eyes are wide, and his head is shaking with the effort to contain Oliver. “Fuck yeah,” screams Oliver. “Impossible,” says Brock. Oliver looks over at Brock. Brock is in shock. The crowd starts talking… “The kid bodybuilder…he’s doin’ it!” “That’s pure, raw strength!” Titus screams, trying to stop Oliver, and he does for a second, but the kid bodybuilder’s strength is building. His ripped muscle contracting harder. Oliver starts pushing through the Arm Lock with every muscle group engaged including his back with crazy striations, his biceps with impossible peaks and his chest just ripped to the bone with massive forearms at the lead. As Oliver is pulling Titus’ arm down, closer and closer to the pin pad, Titus does a King’s Move, dropping his body below the table and stretching out the arm to make it impossible to pin due to the angle of the arm. Brock screams, “Good move, Dad! Hold him there and burn him out!” Oliver continues pulling Titus’ arm, but it’s completely stuck. It’s even harder than his Arm Lock. After 10 seconds of pulling, Oliver isn’t making progress. Mike screams, “Olly, do a shoulder press! Stand up tall and use your shoulder and bodyweight to press his arm down!” Oliver stands up tall and starts pushing with just his triceps. He doesn’t lean over and use his shoulder and bodyweight. Titus is smiling. He’s in a good position. The King’s Move doesn’t use much energy. It’s all about leverage, angles and the arm’s natural straight arm end range. “No one can push through my King’s Move, kid! It’s ten times harder than my Arm Lock!” Oliver grunts loud and pushes hard. Titus’ arm is like hardened steel. It’s just not moving. “You can’t do it, Olly!,” screams Brock. Oliver screams and starts pushing with everything he has! His triceps shows every cross-striation. His shoulders are shredded. His biceps vein looks massive and mean. His chest is heaving with ripped abs and sweat pouring off him. Titus’ smile turns to gritting teeth. “If this kid’s ripped muscle pushes through Titus’ King’s Move, it will send me over the edge,” whispers a guy to his friend right near the table. This excites Oliver even more, somehow allowing him to push even harder. His ripped triceps start to very slowly move Titus’ arm towards the pin pad. Oliver looks down at the guy watching and sees his eyes getting bigger and the guy says, “Oh my God! He’s doing it!” The guy starts shaking. Oliver screams again, pushing more! His triceps is exploding. The crowd starts speaking again… “This kid’s strength is insane! He’s doing it with just his triceps!” “This kid bodybuilder is beating the strongest arm wrestler at his own sport!” “No! You can’t!” mutters Titus. A cracking sound starts to come from Titus’ arm. “Stop! You’re going to break his arm,” screams Brock. Oliver backs off. “Want to give up, so I can spare your arm,” Oliver asks. “I’ll never give up!” “Good, cause I wanna see how strong these triceps are,” yells Oliver. Oliver looks directly at Brock. He screams and pushes again. His ripped triceps is monstrously huge. Titus’ arm moves slightly. It’s getting stuck as the bones near the elbow start touching. Titus’ arm is nearly at the pin pad, but now it’s completely stuck. “You think he could break his arm,” someone asks from the crowd. “No man. I don’t think it’s possible,” replies another. Oliver gets excited and goes nuts! He screams, and his triceps responds somehow pushing harder. “Yeah, I’m gonna do it,” screams Oliver. Titus starts to scream. His arm starts to slightly bend under the strength of Oliver’s triceps. Oliver looks at Brock. Brock has his hands on his head in disbelief. Oliver screams again pushing as hard as he can with just his triceps strength. About three seconds later, a grinding sound and then…SNAP! Oliver breaks Titus’ arm. Titus’ hand hits the pin pad. He pulls his arm away grabbing it for support. Oliver slams his fist down onto the pad, crushing the pad and bending one of the thick steel supports holding the table up. He then hits a double biceps shot at Titus. Incredibly ripped biceps explode to over 24 inches with high peaks. Lats flare out like wings. Abs shredded. Sweat pouring off his body giving it a beautiful shine. Cheers and shock coming from the crowd. Mike gives Oliver a hug. “I knew you could do it, Olly,” says Mike. “I couldn’t have done all this without you, Big Mike,” responds Oliver. “Maybe you should call me, Little Mike, from now on.” They laugh. Brock runs over to his Dad and takes him away for medical attention. Someone from the crowd says, “Bro, you broke the table.” Oliver looks at it. There are four steel support bars that run from the base on the floor to the tabletop. One of them is bent inwards. Oliver bends down and grabs the bent support bar at the middle of the bend with his left hand. His other hand is on the tabletop for support. Oliver grunts and starts pulling. His biceps and forearm explode as does his lat. Very slowly, Oliver starts bending the support bar straight. “No way! This kid is bending fucking steel,” says one guy from the crowd. “Jesus, his arm strength is off the scale!” Oliver completely straightens the support bar. He then hits another double biceps shot at the crowd. The crowd cheers. The crowd comes over to Oliver for pictures and autographs. Oliver looks at Mike. “Let’s keep doing this shit! I want to see how strong I can get!” Mike responds, “Hell yeah kid!” THE END
  6. A beautiful morning was the right description of Baton Rouge on that day. The sun was shining, it was not either hot or cold, the perfect mild day to go foe a walk and wonder about. Caleb knew his match was just few days away and it would have been absolute fun for him, like the rest of them were. He walked through the town, impossible to miss. A huge bodybuilder and that black t-shirt, with the loose sleeves, showed all his beauty and power. Piercing blue eye, a neat beard, a touch of hair loss that divinely framed his entire face, and with a constant smile drawn on it. His several tattoos in his arms made him look scarier compared to any other bodybuilder whereas he was a peaceful person. Until provoked. Until pissed off. Time to take a bite, Caleb thought. He stopped by a cafeteria to eat something, relax, and plan what he will be doing during the day. His thoughts were now focusing on training. Training for his future competitions. Training to destroy his Easter European victim. He entered. Some people looked at him, others ignored him. He smiled. Being a bodybuilder means carrying the sport itself everyday on your person. It is not like being a cyclist that you can hang the bike to the hook. The waitress couldn’t ignore Caleb’s body and scanned him from top to bottom. Baton Rouge was a mix of culture and backgrounds, and diversity was on everyday people’s life although, those bodybuilders were not so often spotted around the time, and when someone sees one, wasting some minutes of the precious working time, it is an investment, for the eyes, for our inner fantasies. The waitress recomposed herself, handed a menù over and and shown that table to the guest. Customer. Caleb set far from the entrance. A bunch of guys guys, probably on their 40s got in. They were wearing suits. They were probably lawyers. They were probably out for lunch. They were noisy and loud. Most of the people turned as they entered the cafeteria. To be in a quiet cafeteria, those guys made it sound like a disco or a club. Maybe a pub. Their voices were simply annoying. They were probably celebrating some sort of victory in a case. Caleb placed his mobile on the table. His order arrived. Gumbo. What’s best to eat if not one the jewel dish of Louisiana? Caleb began eating completely submerged in his thoughts. Crush him, crush him, crush him. He thought. It’s been a long time since his last pay-to-fight session. Last one went very well on Caleb’s side, not so well for the dueller. His victim ended up at the hospital. Few broken ribs, and a dislocated jaw. Another bodybuilder. Unable to compete for quite sometime. He asked for it. He gave it to him. Time passed. Caleb was still eating with his thoughts running like a train. He got distracted. A scene that should’ve never taken place. At the table of the lawyers's, the waitress run away. In tears. The most annoying of the pack put his hands over the waitress’s vagina, and laughed with this friends. No one reacted, no one did absolutely anything. Shame on everyone. “That guy needs a lesson!” Caleb whispered to himself, moved his lips annoyed, and shook his head. He stood up. He was a mountain. He walked towards the guy. “I think you owe her an apology!” Caleb said, towering at the table, with his beautiful Cajun accent. “Calm down hormone man!” The guy said. “You owe her an apology!” Caleb said again, leaning towards the guy. “Mind you own fucking business, asshole!” The guy said annoyed. “Fine!” Caleb said. Caleb’s hand found the right path to land and grab the guy by the crotch, and lifted him up. With rage. The guy quickly stood up. He went straight to his toe. He moaned and screamed. He was terrified. His voice squeaked. He tried to free himself up placing his hands over Caleb’s wrist. Wrong move. The Cajun slapped the guy’s face twice. His head quarter-turned twice, and his perfect hair waved like during a shampoo commercial. The lawyer’s eyes were in tears. Caleb got the attention he deserved. “What does it feel like to receive the same treatment?” Caleb said. The guy tried to talk. Caleb stopped him suddenly, pulling him towards his body, almost as if he was trying to remove the lawyer’s testicle from the body. Caleb walked for the whole restaurant, with the guy grabbed by the crotch. Pulling him like he was handling a rope and dragging something around a street. “You are like my little horse. Let me bring you for a walk!” Caleb said. Sarcastically. He grinned. Evilly. The restaurant went silent. Someone took their phones to record what was going on. This type of videos can destroy a person’s life but, as long as there is a strong fundament story, they can illuminate the audience on how badly our human behaviour is evolving to the wrong direction. Caleb stopped right in the centre of the restaurant. “This is what happens when you don’t have respect for people. No matter what sexual orientation, gender they are!” Caleb said, looking at the guy’s friend. They were terrified. Caleb pulled his victim, again, towards his body. He whispered to him. “Next time, I will rip your testicles off. Now you go, apologise, pay for your food, tip, leave the place, and bring along those pieces of shit that you call friend. Am I clear?” Caleb said. The guy nodded. Caleb released the pressure. The guy run to the till, holding his crotch for the pain, and limping. He apologised and paid. The pack left. Caleb went back to his sit and kept eating his delicious Gumbo. This time I am going to film this match and I will upload in my persona page, Caleb thought and smiled. I want to crush his jaw. Put him on a liquid diet. He won’t be able to compete for at a least a year. Caleb thought. I will exceed this time. I want that one to suffer. I want him to beg for mercy, scream, yelling like a child, asking help for his mother. I won’t be dedicated at all. This body will wreck his body. I will break him. I will be his meat grinder. I know I am. What I did to the last bodybuilder, I will do it to him, exponentially. Caleb thought. He noticed that he had an hard-on and gently caressed his hard penis. It was about to explode, tear the tight denim off. He smiled. Caleb finished his Gumbo, went to the till and paid. The waitress was there smiling. “I really want to thank you for what you did to me. I think that guy deserved the same treatment I had.” She said. “People don’t have respect and they think they can do anything they want. Not when I am here!” Caleb said. “I am a peaceful person until someone pissed me off. Well in that case, you saw me. I get quite angry!” Caleb said. Caleb tipped 50 bucks, and left the cafeteria. Showing his perfect ass to all the present people. He wanted to show his body. It was afternoon. Caleb decided to come back home. He wanted to train. He wanted to be ready for both competitions and the fight. Caleb decided to go through another route for his way home. The hallway he passed by was narrow, dirty, and stinky but wanted to arrive home as soon as possible to train. He thought that a shower before and after the training was needed. His body would’ve smelled of what the hallway had to offer. He took his phone from his back pocket. Sliding an iPhone from a pocket wearing tight denims that were wrapped in a muscular a perfect bottom, was not an easy task, but he succeeded after few attempts. He checked for any texts or missed call. Nothing. Fine. He couldn’t be bothered to change his plans. His head was bent over watching at the phone, but he noticed some movements. Four people. The pack was back. One huge person. Probably 6’6’’ tall. Muscular. A bodybuilder. He stopped. The big giant walked towards him. He grabbed Caleb by the throat. He lifted him up, several inches from the pavement. He brought him close to his eyes. Caleb grabbed the giant’s wrist with his palm, trying to get free. “I am going to kill you! You don’t play with my friend!” The giant said. “You…you…you…” Caleb tried to say. “I…I…I…I am, what?” The giant said. “You are dead!” Caleb said, smirking. He punched his face so hard that the giant released the hold, letting Caleb land on his foot and knee, with a fist on the pavement. Like a superhero performance. The giant was holding his face. Caleb stood up and uppercut his fist into the Giant stomach, like a spear, like a hot knife into butter. The giant’s hand moved from his face to his stomach. He gasped. He moaned. He pissed himself. His face was in terror mixed to pain. Limping, he turned to his friends. They were horrified. His arms were crossed over his stomach. Caleb did not loose time, and grabbing the giant by behind, he wrapped his arms around his waist, and like a professional wrestler, he lifted the mountain off the ground and performed a German suplex. His head hit the pavement, while Caleb’s body was arching. He threw the giant’s body aside. “You’d better run, or you will have the same treatment!” The pack left. Frightened. Scared. In the meantime, in London, Adam and Kevin were packing the bags. Their flight was due in few hours to New Orleans to then move to Baton Rouge. That was the only information that Adam gave to Kevin in addition to the hairy description of the guy that Adam will be facing in a few days. “I cannot wait to know which person you’re going to fight and destroy. Especially to know what you’re going to do to him.” Kevin said. “You all be impressed by the guy I will be wrestling. He is less impressive compared to this body. I will destroy him from his head to his feet. It will be a massacre. As usual!” Adam said while rubbing his hands over this pecs covered by the t-shirt that were visible from miles away. Kevin had an erection. Adam rubbed his hands over Kevin’s hard cock. “Your penis will explode during the fight. I am 100% sure!” Adam said. Kevin smiled. “I think so that too. I would probably wear 3 layers of underwear. I don’t want to be like a hose-pipe. I need to keep it refrained to erupt!” Kevin said sarcastically smiling. Adam roared laughing. They both did. The left the house, the taxi was there waiting for the two guys. They jumped on in and left the house behind. Destination Louisiana.
  7. When a Titan enters the door, it is undeniable that each one of us will admire how big that person might be, in particular when the Titan has stats that go off-chart. 6’2’’ and 310 lbs can classify a person as a “Human Tank.” Adam, The Titan, was a Ukrainian bodybuilder, built like a brick shithouse. The sums of those addends made him close to perfection. Long and muscular arms and legs were attached to a body with huge and massive pectorals, that a tight t-shirt was not that able to contain. It was about to explode. Adding to that, an handsome face with a light beard and two pointy ears that perfectly matched his overall profile. Adam’s been competing regionally and internationally for quite sometime, and his winning competitions were well-known in his homeland. Being one of the tallest and heaviest bodybuilders in Ukraine, he was one of those bodybuilders that couldn’t have been missed during the shows, and other bodybuilders were always shocked by his masses, and the agility he used to show during his posing routines. A perfect bodybuilder? Indeed he was. That day, when he entered the door, in London, he was not going to compete. He was not going to show his perfection to the judges, he was about to show his whole-powerful body to a guy that paid him so much money during the years, that kept his bodybuilding dream alive. When Kevin opened the door, letting the big fella in, he almost lost his control. He realised that his bulge was raising. Adam was a pure muscle God. Adam entered with a big smile. Almost an evil smile. The light brown t-shirt showed his ripped uncovered biceps and the veins ran all over. Both of his arms were ripped, although it was not in a competition. His pectorals were massive and well-pronounced under that t-shirt that showed the logo Domination. Anyone wished to be dominated by him. He could dominate anyone without much effort. It was almost impossible to resist him. He was too perfect to run away. Kevin scanned his entire body in few seconds, he noticed everything Adam could offer. He noticed his bull neck, his hands were so big that he could have easily crushed a watermelon between them. “Hi Kevin!” Adam said, with his light Ukrainian accent, and with a strong and deep voice that matched his physique. The voice almost made the apartment tremble. Kevin hesitated on answering, his eyes moved like pinballs. Up and down. Right and left. His brain froze, his mouth let a kind of a squirt out, but in a couple of seconds he was able to get himself together and answer. “Hey Adam! You’re fucking huge!” He said. Adam laughed, still his laugh was heavy, trembling, and devilish. They shook their hands. At his own expenses, Kevin discovered how firm and strong Adam’s grip was, if he grabs me by the balls, they will be gone forever! Kevin thought. Kevin was half of Adam’s size and proportions. Adam was looking at his cash, towering him like a giant. He was intimidating. During the past years, Kevin commissioned several videos, paid quite well, but although Kevin knew how big Adam was, a video will never show the massiveness until he met him in real life. Like a first date, you can fantasise about a person through the pictures and a description, but the real life completely change your perception, and you see how that person really looks like. Perfection! Kevin though. Kevin’s dream was coming into reality, he could finally admire that muscle monster. His enthusiasm was irrepressible. They both walked to the massive almost-empty room that Kevin dedicated for that moment. Only a sofa in in the middle of the room, and a table right behind it. The walls were painted in a light green that brought peace and harmony. There were no need for words, they both knew what was about to happen. Adam walked to the edge of the room, he began undressing. Kevin comfortably set on the sofa. Excited. “Wow!” Kevin said. Adam only wore a pair of red posing trunks. Yet, Kevin couldn’t believe his eyes. That body is fucking huge, he thought. “What do you want to see my muscle friend?” Adam said. “Pose for me. Pose like you’re on stage for a competition.” Kevin said. “At your command!” Adam said. And he began. Slowly, he lifted his arms and aligned them to his shoulders, creating a crucifix-like shape. His shoulders and biceps were boulders. The striations were visible as those muscles looked like they were carved into wood by a professional wood carver. Adam stared at his fan with proud. “Here they come.” Adam whispered. Yet slowly, his elbow pits bent, his bicep fibres contracted, and the bicep inflated, and just right before the end of the muscle explosion, Adam loaded and locked, letting a soft grunt out of his mount. He smirked. He look at his right bicep and then the left. He brought the arms back to the crucifix position and hit a second, third, and fourth double bicep pose. Hammering it. “Boom!” Adam screamed at the sequential poses. Kevin was silent, he did not speak a word. He was admiring, and he knew that commenting was only a waste of time. Adam relaxed for few seconds, his right leg pointed at floor with his toe and shook his relaxed quad waving it from side to side, he lifted both of his arms up in the air, to then cross them behind his head and neck, he stomped his foot onto the floor, and contracted the whole quad, showing the different muscular groups in it, and hit an abdominals and thighs. “Arrrrghhh” Adam growled, like a beast. Smiles appeared in both of the guys. Kevin never imagined that Adam was such as an amazing poser when it comes to privately perform. He saw him very often on the stage, he used to pose like he was dominating the whole contestants, with a smile always drawn on his face. Kevin he had never heard him grunting or growling, and that was something new that he was loving along with his private, that minutes after minutes was increasing in volume, the blood was streaming like never before. What is he going to do when he’s going to hit a most muscular pose? Kevin wondered in excitement. He couldn’t wait for that moment to come. “You are the European Quadrosaurus!” Kevin said, still admiring Adam’s huge quads. “I am the Quadraosaurus. Fuck Branch Warren!” Adam said, smiling to this friend. Adam slightly bent over to his relaxed quads, placing both of his palms over the meat, and after lifting himself back up, the quads were as hard as rock. Contracted. Huge. He slapped them. Adam’s quads passed from a stage of full relaxation, to an insane contraction, slightly twisting them outward. If that was a film, and a sound added like a soundtrack, it could have probably been a bomb detonation, that was what the quads did. Exploded into perfection. “You know Kevin, People love to be crushed between the quads. Mine are pure destructions!” Adam said. “Fuck!” Kevin said with excitement. “I crushed several people, mostly bodybuilders. They yelled!” Adam said laughing. “Did they cry?” Kevin said. “The cried! They begged for mercy, that I did not grant!” Adam said. “Let me tell you one thing. Crushing bodybuilders is fun. Crushing strongmen is pure joy. They think they are the strongest men in the world, until they met me!” Adam said. “I wish, I could have seen the scene!” Kevin said. “They compete, lifting and throwing off stuff. They are strong, don’t get me wrong. I am way stronger than them. They think that we bodybuilders are only about appearance. We’re not, I’m not!” Adam said. Kevin nodded. Adam turned his back to Kevin, he placed his right leg on the floor with the tips of his toes, moving the feet on the floor like he was stomping cigarette butts. He gently slid both his huge hands over the back of his quads, moving to his perfect butt, and lifting his arms, with the palm of his hands opened, on the air, like he was about to fly. The back double bicep moment was about to take place, but Adam bent his right arm and brought his hand over his right ear, he did not hear any spur from his fan. He turned back, and with and funny-shocked face, he moved his hands in look for support. “C’mon man!” Adam’s voice trembled. “Double bicep! Double bicep! Double Bicep!” Kevin cadencing sang. Adam turned back facing the wall, and repeated the movements, from the back of the quads to the butt, and the hands back up in the air. “Boom!” Adam yelled hitting a back double biceps, hard locking the position for a while. Gracefully, he turned back to face Kevin, his pecs were bouncing up and down, joy for Kevin’s eye. He crunched them, squeezed them, pumped them. Keven never saw two pecs as big as Adam’s, they were pure perfection, and insanely shredded, able to beat the famous Andreas Münzer. The pec dance went on for few minutes. Adam was amazed what his body was able to produce, and Kevin was in pure ecstasy. Adam stopped. He went to the big bag that he left on the floor, bent his knees to reach it, unzipped and extracted few items from it. An empty can of coke, a cylindric metal bar, and an empty small plastic container that probably was once filled with supplements. “You love my huge pecs. I will show you that they are not only for the show business, but that they are strong!” Adam said standing back up. “Look at this!” Adam said, showing the empty-supplement-plastic container to Kevin, walking towards the guy, and holding it with the tip of his thumb and the pointer. Adam placed the container between his pecs, he was not flexing so hard, and the item locked perfectly between them. Like waves, the muscular part of his pecs were moving up and down, with rhythm, creating horizontal peaks that deformed the bottle at each movement. The bottle crackled like when stomped with a foot and the lid was blown away, landing on the floor. Adam applied a final long pressure over the item that cracked like under a press machine for cars. He deflexed his pecs and the deformed bottled fell off onto the floor. Kevin was amazed. His legs crossed one against the other, he moved them to cross on the other way, to give his exploding penis, pressing against the denims, a bit of a rest. Adam went to back to his bag. The can was laying on the floor, he grabbed it with his full hand, he put it between his pecs and with a decisive squeezing movement, he crushed it with ease. A popping noise was heard. For Kevin, it was pain inside his jeans, sweet and enjoyable pain. Adam returned back to his bag, he lifted the metal bar, and he brought it back to Kevin, handing the item over to him. He grabbed the bar, and he realised it was made out of steel, heavy, hard and not empty in the inside. “Don’t tell me you’re going to crush it in your pecs! It is impossible!” Kevin said. “Do you doubt about my capabilities, little fella?” Adam said, smiling. Kevin’s face was shocked, he opened his mouth, nothing came out, and Adam grabbed the steel bar back and placed it between his pecs. Another moment of joy for Kevin. Adam’s pecs moved again like waves, creating those famous peaks, this time he squeezed more than the first time. That steel bar was fighting back, but it bent at the end. It did not break, it simple bent of few visible degrees. Adam smirked with proud while Kevin left a big “wow” followed by a big smile. Kevin was enjoying every single moment of that private show, and hoped that it could never end. Watching a video and jack-off over it is one thing, being able to watch a bodybuilder posing for your is something that one person will never forget. Adam turned his back to Kevin and while walking toward the wall, he began speaking. “I guess, that you’ve been waiting for the most muscular, since you have opened that door half an hour ago!” Adam said. “You can bet it!” Kevin said with excitement. Adam stopped. He turned to face his fan once more, opened his arms and flexed the most muscular bending his body over. Two massive balls appeared as biceps, the pecs contracted, showing the striation once more. “Boom!” Adam screamed. Kevin almost wetted himself.
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