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  1. timovdrow

    posing Pose for us, Bull (short scene)

    I wrote this short-scene a while back as a caption for the following photo. When I wrote this (and other similar content), I was just diving deeper into bodybuilding and how it articulated with my muscle fetish, especially as it relates to domination and submission; and I really got into imagining my ideal D/S dynamic through this captions, informed by my conversations with different admirers/growers/doms at that time. But as with many things, I let it fall to wayside. It wasn't until this week that I started thinking more intentionally about this again. As I continue to work with my coach and enter a lean bulk, I want to draw from this side of my psychosexuality again to really push my limits day in and day out -- after all, bodybuilding is about consistent dedication and effort. But I didn't know where to pick things up again. So it was a happy coincidence when I came across a topic in the general section on the theme of "growth as submission" the same day I decided to browse some of my blog's older posts. This is a quick edit but if folks are receptive and interesting in the themes, styles, etc here, I would be very motivated to follow through with a longer project to dive deeper. The plan would be to explore the progression of this dynamic using the seven deadly sins as a framework. Anyway, anyway, here's Wonderwall (lol). ___ “Sir, must I really pose like this for your friends?” he asked with stink on his face. You'd just finished a group workout. Some pals from out of town wanted to get a quick sweat session in during their visit, so you suggested a local kickboxing class later that afternoon. You knew that this type of exercise wouldn’t enough for your bull – cardio with a little pump is all it was for him, – but you dragged him along anyway. Your friends would appreciate seeing him in action after all. They had ogled over him the time before, privately commenting to you about him in a fluster: “His arms are so big!” “You get to sleep on that chest at night? So lucky!!” “I wish my boyfriend looked that good.” This time around, you had the devilish idea of giving your lusty friends a show, having your bull go through the post-workout posing routine he usually performs in your bedroom. But, you were sure that your friends wouldn’t see the full scope of what this show meant. They were white-collar types more interested in having fun with a side of fitness. Spin or Crossfit classes and brunch white-collar types. So they'd probably see his posing routine as sensual at first -- and who could blame them. Big man in underwear. Simply groundbreaking. Eventually eyes will start to wander, missing the purpose behind each movement. More muscles? What's next. At least if you know your bull. He'll probably be shy and conservative, giving half-hearted flexes at the top of each pose. Amazing to most but practically limp in your eyes. But you’re prepared to push his boundaries today. “Yes I’m serious. Give us a taste of how you’ve been coming along, big guy,” you demand, taking a seat with the rest of your friends chatting in between sips of Gatorade. He gives a shy double-bi towards the mirror, displaying his 19” arms and robust shoulder-chest tie ins. His tank rides over his belly a good hand-width. Your friend Charlene glances over from her conversation and gives a short hoot, “Looking good!” You catch his eyes, glancing down at his torso and legs, his tank and shorts, and back to his face. You nod and mouth “off.” He grimaces and returns a pained expression; clearly he’d rather not. You mouth “off,” again, knitting your eye brows sternly. Begrudging, Bull begins to pull his shorts down and toss them to his side, the tank following. That left him in just your favorite pair of white briefs, nearly every inch of his growing body exposed to strangers. “He’s going to be preparing for a show, guys, so I think it’s best to have get into the spirit.” The rest of your friends turn to look at the curated specimen in front of them. It was hard not too – without the oversized shirt and basketball shorts, his enhanced development was more than evident. You both had been working diligently to thicken up a lot more before dieting down for his contest, putting extra effort into piling more meat onto those delts and traps. You both wanted a bull with a neck worthy of a yoke. Taking a deep breath, he began anew, locking eye contact with you and only you. He hit pose after pose, never breaking sight despite comments being thrown around: “He’s definitely gotten bigger!” "Oh my god, he must eat for an entire family." "That's kinda cool, I guess." He hit a most muscular as his finisher, bringing in his arms tight over his torso and showcasing the fibers and new vascularity over his shoulders and traps – you both noticed that they had begun to swallow up his neck in the last few weeks, especially in this position. “More,” you mouth. He brings his arms in closer, bulging his traps out higher. “More,” you mouth again. His fists clench harder; his eyes begin to glaze over, and you notice his entire body pulse as he brings his muscles to contract even harder. Just for you. He’s beginning to shake from the effort, small veins snaking higher and higher across his chest and neck. You know what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling. He’s been there before with you: I’m a growing muscle bull, growing bigger and bigger because I need to. Let me show you, sir. Let me show you how big I want to be. Please. “And that’s the end!” you say to your friends, motioning to your bull to stop and get dressed. His eyes widen and cheeks redden, immediately turning around to grab his clothes. Scanning their faces, your initial prediction was correct: they don’t get it. Some were looking at their phones; one gave a fake smile, and another continued to look at him with contorted confusion on his face. “He really looked kind of scary for a second,” one whispers to you. Your bull notices this, throwing you a desperate glance. “We’re planning to come in about 10lbs heavier next year too! Maybe 15 of lean muscle, if we work harder.” “Don’t you think that’s too big?” another asks. Your bull approaches the group, half-dressed and drenched in more sweat after his posing; he looks at you, eyes wide with anticipation for how you’re about to respond. “No. I want him bigger. And he likes that too,” you say boldly, giving his shoulder a tight squeeze. Your fingers can’t dig into his meaty delts anymore; they’re harder than before. He reflexively tights his shoulders even more, pushing your fingers out. His cheeks are fiery red. Is that a little guilt you feel? Bull turns to you, your friends, and back to you, speaking through a quivering but excited voice, “Yeah, he’s right. It’s almost an addiction, but better bodybuilding than smoking.” No, that's pride. __________ “You know that once you hit 240, you’re gonna get more comments like that,” you say. He puts down a shaker bottle full of protein and all sorts of supplements alien to you, responding, “yeah, but I’ll get used to it. My current physique is on the edge of sensibility, but posing for them all today and…losing myself…it felt amazing.” “Because your routine was on point?” “No, because I felt like I didn’t care. I was posing for you, even when you pushed me further and I freaked out your girlfriends,” he murmured looking down at his feet. He sighed, throwing a slight smile at you and finishing the rest of his protein shake. “Though to be honest, I think they were busier looking at your boner than my poses towards the end.”
  2. Mikeytron

    growth My Best Friend's Muscles

    My Best Friend's Muscles by Mikeytron I posted this story on metabods over the last few weeks, but I felt I should share it here as well. You can check it out over there if you'd like, as well as several of my other stories - M Part One I posted the human trial to our work Slack expecting the guys to go nuts when they saw it. After all, the results were, in a word, stunning. I didn’t think anyone would react right away, though. It was 2:11 in the morning when I finished preparing the report, sitting in my dark basement, the unhealthy glow of my computer screen the only light. Surely I was the only one awake. I was wrong, though. The channel blew up almost instantly. I guess we’re all nightowls. It would fit the stereotype. “Holy fuck, Rob, these are beyond my wildest dreams,” typed Eli. “Real sci fi shit.” “You sure you didn’t just give all these guys tren instead?” typed Anderson. “No way, these results are better than tren,” Eli replied. “Guys I’m so excited, we’re gonna make a hundred million bucks,” typed Hakan. “Fuck that man, we’re gonna make the biggest bodybuilders the world has ever seen,” typed Matteo. “Haha, you’re always thinking with your dick,” Eli replied to Matteo. “Tell me you’re not hard as a rock right now,” Matteo replied to Eli. “I’m dripping,” Eli replied, with a tongue-sticking-out emoji. You could say ours was not the typical workplace. We don’t technically have a team leader, but the role kind of fell to me, and I knew I had to reel in the others before their excitement got out of hand. Keep their eyes on the prize. They were like puppies, sometimes. Geeky, muscle-obsessed, scientifically brilliant gay puppies. “Settle down everyone,” I typed. “Go jack off and get some sleep, tomorrow we’ve got to plan how to sell this.” “You’re no fun,” Matteo replied with a gif of a cartoon character dramatically weeping. “@everyone Brunch on my rooftop, 11 am. Go get your beauty sleep ladies” Hakan replied. I closed Slack with a smile. I fully intended to take the first half of my own advice. It was definitely wank o’clock. But I had no idea how I’d sleep at all, afterward. This was one of the most exciting moments of my life. We had actually done it. I glanced through the PDF of the results one last time, already painfully erect, leaking pre as I read. 16 week trial. Control group of 25 men, following a workout routine designed for hypertrophy, eating an identical diet. Average muscle gain, confirmed by DEXA scan: 5.7 lbs. Group A, 25 men, taking 100 mcg of the compound daily, following the same workout routine, the same diet. Average muscle gain, confirmed by DEXA scan: 20.1 lbs. Group B, 25 men, taking 200 mcg of the compound daily, same workout, same diet. Average muscle gain, confirmed by DEXA scan: 31.6 lbs. One man in Group B had added 42 lbs of muscle. In a little less than four months. Fuck. I couldn’t help it. Knowing my teammates were likely doing the exact same, I slipped my underwear down, my hard cock bobbing proudly, a pearl of precum glistening in the blue light of the computer screen. I jerked off to the PDF. There weren’t any pictures, just data tables and graphs, but it was more than enough. My thoughts swirling over what we were about to unleash on the world. * Like I said, there are five of us working on this project. It’s too long and too boring to tell how we all got in touch with each other, but we’re all gay, we’re all friends, we all work in biotech or medical research, and we all have a thing for muscle. Not just a little muscle. Not just a little thing. We’re all size and growth fetishists of the most extreme bent. As for our little venture… It started as a side project, something we kept under wraps. It began as empty talk in our group chat, how we wished we could be a team of muscle growth scientists with a stable of ever-growing bodybuilders who we could enjoy at our leisure. It was a running gag for a bit, talking about our muscle growth lab/dungeon. Then the talk took a more definite shape over cocktails one fateful Friday night. The various things we were working on, research papers we had fortuitously just read, some inventive lateral thinking, a few productive what-ifs…. We did the modeling. It looked promising. Then the pandemic hit, and, well… we decided to go for it. Synthesize the compound and see if it works the way the computer says it will. We had so much time on our hands, why not moonlight as a cabal of gay mad scientists in Anderson’s garage or Matteo’s basement? A little borrowed equipment here, a few vials of grey market research compounds there… The theoretical work was already done. Why not see what it does in vivo? The first tests on rodents showed such shocking results, we knew we couldn’t stop there. That’s where I kind of fell into the leadership role. I took care of the paperwork establishing our company. I found the investors to get us off the ground. I filed the patent paperwork. And I set up the human trials. Going around local gyms, recruiting men willing to inject an experimental chemical if it meant they might get bigger. And now here we were, more than a year later, having successfully captured lightning in a bottle. We had an entirely novel compound that induced extreme hypertrophy in a high testosterone environment. It wasn’t difficult to synthesize. It wasn’t difficult to administer. It seemed to have no significant negative side effects. And now we just had to sell it. * “I’ve got the perfect idea,” Matteo said, his dark eyes sparkling. He always looked most adorable when he was enthused about something. We first met on Scruff a few years back, slowly revealing the full extent of our muscle growth fetish to each other over DMs. We met, we fucked like rabbits for about two weeks, and then smoothly transitioned into being friends, like you do. “Yeah?” I responded. The four of us were sitting around a table on the roof of Hakan’s downtown Toronto condo, waiting for our host to return. It was a beautiful summer day. “You’ll love it. We do one last trial.” He could see my face souring, he knew I wanted to launch as soon as we could. “Wait, listen. One last trial, each of us asks our favourite bodybuilder to take our compound for 10 weeks and then we use before and after pics for an advertising blitz. We’ll launch at the end of the 10 weeks so we’ll have plenty of work to do. But the impact from instagram alone would be unreal. Regan Grimes adds 35 lbs of raw muscle and he did it all thanks to, uh… whatever we’re calling this.” “Yeah, Rob, what ARE we calling this?” Hakan, the fifth member of our group, interjected as he approached the table bearing a tray of fizzing champagne flutes and the half-empty bottle. He always had a flair. “Well, why don’t we each come up with our best idea for a name and then have a secret vote,” I suggested, accepting the glass Hakan handed me. “Pfft,” Anderson said, taking a glass. “Everyone will just vote for their own suggestion.” “So ask all the guys from the trial to vote on it too, whatever, it’s a free focus group.” Eli waved his hand dismissively before grabbing his glass. “You’re all ignoring Matteo’s frankly excellent idea.” “What’s your idea?” Hakan asked, handing Matteo the penultimate glass before taking the last for himself. “That we recruit five bodybuilders to be our final guinea pigs and our first spokes-brutes.” Hakan settled into his seat, compressed his lips as if considering. “I like it. Dibs on Iain.” “I already called dibs on Regan, and since it’s my idea I get double-dibs,” Matteo quickly added. “I want Antoine,” Eli added. “If we’re keeping it Canadian.” Anderson gestured imperiously. “You are all such predictable queens.” “Well, what super-heavyweight do you want to sponsor, since you’ve just got to be the iconoclast?” “Joe Seeman.” “Who?” Blank looks from the other guys, although I recognized the name. “And you call yourself a muscle fetishist! Coach Little Joe on Instagram,” Anderson replied with the air of an art snob having to identify Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers” to a room full of ignorant tourists. “Ooooh, yeah, him, he WOULD be really hot with another 30 or 40 lbs of muscle on him.” “What about you, Rob?” All eyes turned to me. I looked around at the guys, their faces shining like kids writing their Christmas wish lists. Derek Lunsford? Hunter Labrada? Nick Walker? Names flickered through my mind, a whirlwind of visual memories, thousands of nights spent with my cock in my hand, scrolling through Instagram and Tumblr and Twitter, gorging my fevered brain on muscle, more muscle, more muscle, more muscle… who would I gift this magic elixir to? What bulging skin-straining roid-freak, already existing at the current limit of muscular possibility, did I want to explode with another few dozen pounds of raw beef? “I need some time to think about it,” I said, but I was lying. I knew exactly who I wanted to blow up. “Anyway,” I said, raising my champagne flute. “Cheers, guys. To muscle. To us.” “Let’s make some monsters!” Matteo exclaimed as he clinked his glass against mine, and we all drank to that.
  3. 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
  4. CW: m/m, voyeur, incest, muscle worship, muscle growth. (read part 1) Things only got worse after graduation. Or better. I'll leave that up to you. For me, my muscle fetish had only just begun, reinforced by years of superheroes and cartoons, exaggerated by That Night. I'd taken to referring to it as That Night in my journal, the night I first saw my muscle freak brother being licked from head to toe in his bedroom. Anyway, after graduation, I kept up on my swimming and Nate kept on lifting. He quickly gained a reputation, despite being a freshman. How could he not? He had already packed on a ton of extra mass since leaving high school. I didn't have the stats I wanted, his weight and how much he could bench, but I believed my own eyes. He didn't just look bigger. He looked like he was getting bigger faster. His shirts fit like they'd been picked out of the kids section, pulled so tight across his muscle tits that little holes had already torn over his bust. Yeah, that's what happens when you stuff rock hard pecs the size of couch cushions into a shirt and not a tarp. Those pecs turned every top he wore into a midriff-baring delight; the shelf of his pecs lifted his shirt up from his waist, revealing the twisted labyrinth of his 10-pack abs. They looked like they could crunch coals into diamonds. Worse, their extreme V-shape was like a huge arrow that pointed downward. Nate's junk was the first thing anybody noticed. I know the school nurse had questioned if he had some kind of condition. Nobody should be that big and that hard that often, but I knew the real reason. I knew he turned himself on being so big. I knew he got hard just existing in that hyper-pumped body. I knew he orgasmed just taking in his own reflection, without even touching that horse cock that had to be stuffed down one leg of his painted-on jeans, all the way down to his knee. Heck, he could make me cum without touching myself, whenever he flexed a watermelon bicep for some girl and his cock throbbed against his thigh. The girls? Unlike myself, a scarecrow that couldn't find a date, he was popular with the ladies. They had to line up just to stand next to him. There was no end to the train of women ready to get a taste of him. Busty girls, fit girls, flat-chested girls, skinny girls, thick girls, cheerleaders, nerds, geeks, gymnasts, teachers, other students' moms... I couldn't tell if he had a girlfriend or if they were all his girlfriends. That is, until Oceana came. She was something else. You could tell just by looking into her eyes--which I tried just once and never again. Behind those deep browns flecked with icy blue, I saw myself. Not my reflection, but actually my own hunger, my own desire, the same drive that kept me scouring the internet into the early hours of the morning beating my aching purple dick to the biggest muscular beasts I could find, to the insane morphed muscle that I hoped deep down my own brother would soon come to resemble: unbridled muscle lust. She had it and she had it in spades. I saw her appetite plain as day. Nate and Oceana became inseparable. She was more than just another young body to use like a wad of tissue. She was the closest thing to a real trainer that he ever had and his body positively blew up under her tender care. I remember wondering what she could have possibly contributed to his workouts; Oceana wasn't exactly buff or anything, although she was fit, tall as a model, long legs, washboard abs, long wavy black hair, cute face with thick eyebrows and a great smile on a square jaw. She didn't look the part, but her hunger made her the perfect candidate. My brother continued to sample every girl that came his way, but Oceana was special. I wouldn't know how special until the middle of the semester, but before I get to that, there's another story I should mention and some clarifiers I should make. You might think this story is about Nate, and you wouldn't be wrong, technically, but it's really about the journey of my muscle fetish from innocent infatuation to obsession. I continued to spy on my brother most nights of the week, peeking through his bedroom window to watch him lift weights or flex or fuck the brains out of a blonde or brunette. I did a lot of window shopping. I didn't and don't consider myself gay. Bicurious is a phrase I ran into years later and that might be more accurate. I was on the hunt for a girlfriend, too, if anyone could ever notice me in my brother's mountainous shadow, but at the same time, I was whacking off to bodybuilding competitions and pump room videos. When reality itself became unsatisfying, I turned to erotic stories on sites like Metabods. I even took up drawing to create my own hideously gorgeous muscle freaks, put them up in the shower and beat my meat to their inhuman bodies, destroying the evidence afterward. I couldn't let anybody know I had these feelings. Especially my brother--I still thought he'd kill me if he discovered what I was doing. Probably rip me in half and eat me. This unfortunately meant that the one thing I never got to do was the one thing that dominated my thoughts 24-7. Touch. I wanted to touch a jacked bodybuilder's muscles, just once, feeling all that mass piling up under smooth skin, bulging with a flex, fibers tensing, veins pulsing, feeling a muscle swell in my hands, grip it hard to see if I could even put a dent in it. I'd wanted to feel that for years. I finally got my chance one night and got more than I bargained for... "Ah shit." I couldn't tell what Nate was doing or what was bothering him. Whenever we showered after a swim (for me) and a workout (for him) on those late night trips to the gym, I made sure to not look. I showered with my back toward him. The last thing I wanted was to get caught gawking with a hardon for all his bulging shredded meat. But I could feel him staring down at me. "Hey, bro," he said. His voice was loud and heavy, so close behind me. I glanced over my shoulder but just to show I was paying attention. "Yeah? What is it?" I replied. "Forgot my crap. My back scrubber. Can't reach anymore, dude." I turned around a little more, swallowing hard. The golden brown edifice of his body came into sight. "Y-you can't reach?" I managed. "Yeah. Fuck. My back. Been hitting the weights too hard, I guess. Too big and sore," and he laughed, "so could you...?" (access the full story at patreon.com/pumpculture)
  5. Hey there. Here's a story. It's about muscles and stuff. The nature of desire. The ache of it. But also muscles. I hope it pleases. THE CHAMPION It had been a triumph. He was blowing up Instagram. He was THE cover of every muscle mag that still printed. People would buy copies to commemorate it. The reddit thread already had thousands of comments. ADAM NOVAK: BIGGEST MR. O IN HISTORY He’d only started lifting four years ago, in his early twenties. He only competed for the first time as an amateur two years ago. Got his pro-card last year. Qualified for the O this year. Nine months later, a rookie winner. No one expected it. Lots of people expected him to finish second or third no matter how obvious his dominance, just to make him “work for it” and “earn it” in a year or two. But it became obvious at the show itself: if they’d crowned anyone else, there would have been rioting. He was unlike anyone who had ever stepped on a bodybuilding stage. He was so enormous, it was alarming. Frightening. And he was so young and got there so quickly. The comments online were fast and furious. Things like: “Is there any limit to how big this kid can get?” “What the hell are they feeding him?” “Did a muscle growth experiment escape its lab?” But also things like: “it’s too much.” “Disgusting.” “What happened to old school aesthetics?” “He’s gonna be dead of a heart attack in 18 months.” He put his phone down, caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror across the restaurant where his crew had taken him to celebrate. Fuck, he didn’t look human. Handsome face - he was only 26 - straight nose, big expressive eyes, firm generous lips, Hollywood jawline, thick dark hair kept short, but not too short - just enough to show its curl on his brow. But the rest of him. Fuck. He bulged. He burgeoned. He looked fit to explode, like his skin was barely holding back the giant round forms of his muscles. He took up twice the space of a normal human. Three times the space. He couldn’t move right, he was so huge. His buddy had to help him eat. He knew the stats. Everyone knew the stats. 5’8”. 358 lbs at registration - probably closer to 370 now that he’d been carbed up. 2% bodyfat. 30” arms. 46” thighs. 80” chest. Ramy, Roelly, Hadi, Brandon, Iain, Hunter, all of them were dwarfed by him. His shirt, the only thing he could fit into that came anywhere close to formal wear, was splitting at the seams - literally, it had already torn in two places, small tears, for now. It was custom made. He hadn’t paid for it, the company that made it had volunteered, as long as he did a social media promo. But they made it weeks ago, not expecting him to grow into the show. He had definitely grown into the show. “Where did this kid come from?” Just a little town in southern Ontario, nowhere special. * THREE YEARS EARLIER Adam had to lift pretty late at night because of his job and his classes. He was almost done with the degree. He hoped it’d land him a better job, one that would allow him to lift at a more sensible time. But for now, he showed up at the gym around 11 pm and generally left a little after midnight. It was one of those gyms where members all had a fob to open the door, and there wasn’t always staff on site. This night, the few guys who were there already left not too long after Adam arrived. He had the whole 20,000 square feet to himself. He felt dwarfed by it. He’d been lifting for nine months now, had some newbie gains to show for it, but he still felt out of place. He just looked kind of fit, at best. A little muscle on him but nothing special. He launched into his next set, machine rows, and he really got into the rhythm of it. Slow cadence - he knew not to use momentum, he knew to emphasize time under tension. Pull, squeeze, return, stretch, repeat. His baby lats burned but he kept at it. These are the reps that count, he told himself. This is where the growth is. When he finished, he looked up and saw a bodybuilder sitting on a bench, watching him. Adam was confused - he was certain he’d been alone for twenty minutes or more. He hadn’t heard anyone come in. Had this guy been in the lockers all this time? And he was blatantly staring. Adam took out his phone and toyed with it, hoping the bodybuilder wouldn’t start anything. He didn’t want trouble. He just wanted to finish his workout. If Adam had noticed the time on his phone, or looked up at the clock on the wall, he would have seen that it struck midnight during the set of rows he’d just finished. Adam heard a voice and felt a presence looming. “Hey kid.” His mouth went dry and he looked up. The bodybuilder was huge. Like, pro huge. Some pros went to this gym but Adam rarely saw them because he always came in so late. Adam’s dick began stiffening automatically at the display of bulging pecs, thick veiny arms, quads exploding out of the bottom of tiny shorts hiked high, calves like two footballs clutched by veins like tree roots. He couldn’t help it. The guy was handsome, too. Mediterranean, maybe? Persian? Black hair, dark eyes that were swift and intelligent, perfect tan skin, and the muscles. My god, the muscles. He smelled like testosterone, this close up. “I said hey.” Adam closed his gaping mouth. “Oh uh…. Hey there.” “You wanna get big, huh?” “Um… well…. Yeah.” “Thought so. I could smell it on you from across the room. You’re pretty scrawny but the size of your desire, whoo boy, I’ve rarely seen a desire so huge, not even in the pros.” What was this guy talking about? Adam was worried, this bodybuilder didn’t seem to be in his right mind. He knew a lot of these guys did other drugs, was he hopped up on something? He did have a vaguely coked-up air about him. Adam better be careful not to agitate him. “Oh uh, well, thank you. I’m trying my best.” “I see that. That was a nice set you just did. Good intention. I’ve got a feeling you’re going to get everything you want, and more.” “.... haha, well, I hope you’re right. I definitely want to get huge.” Adam gave his best fake laugh. “You better start your next set. You’re on 90 second rests and it’s been more than 100.” “How…?” “I said start your next set.” His voice was quiet, commanding. Adam gulped, turned his attention to the machine, gripped the handles firmly, and started rowing. Like before he fell into a kind of rhythm, but this time it was deeper. He kept pulling and pulling and pulling. His lats felt like they would burst. But he was merciless. His form remained smooth, controlled. His tempo, slow. He was crying, it hurt so bad. Literal tears mixing with the sweat running down his face. He kept rowing. It burned so bad, worse than anything he’d ever felt. When Adam finally stopped, he released the handles with a sob and let his arms fall to his sides. There was no way to hold them that didn’t make his throbbing lats feel worse. He groaned in helpless agony and looked around for the mysterious bodybuilder who had been talking to him. There was no one else in the gym. Even though he’d been in his own world during that set, that agonizing endless set…. Adam would have noticed the muscle man leaving, right? * A YEAR LATER “Adam, you should totally compete!” “Oh, I don’t know...” Adam shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to acknowledge that he had been considering that very thing himself lately. “I’m serious, man, you’d fit right in on an amateur stage, classic, maybe even cross over and do open as well.” Adam had poured himself into the gym after graduation. He found a job but his focus really wasn’t there - he was competent, but his managers always said he could be doing more, and as the months went by and his muscles continued to expand, they grew uncomfortable with his physical presence. He was handsome, muscular, confident, but there was something off about him, something they couldn’t put into words. The gym was his life. His passion. It was almost like the first nine months he’d spent lifting were a kind of false start - what he thought of as newbie gains were quickly dwarfed by his second year of progress. His friends were right - not only would he not look out of place on an amateur stage, he’d stand a good chance of winning the whole thing. So that’s what he did. The experience of contest prep was hyped up to be a gruelling gauntlet to him, but somehow he never found it that way. He got leaner, his skin thinned, his muscles popped, but he never felt hungry, he never felt exhausted. At first he was concerned because the scale wasn’t going down the way it should - but the mirror told a different tale. “I guess you’re growing into your show. Lucky fucker.” The classic weight limit for someone 5’8” was 182 lbs. The plan for him to do both classic and open was scrapped as his weight never dipped below 185, and indeed crept into the 190s by the time show day arrived. He registered as a light heavyweight. He wore turquoise posers. He blew everyone away. He won his class. He won the overall. He qualified for nationals. His friends were beyond hyped at the after-party. “You’ve gotta do it, man! Do nationals! You’re built for this!” He believed it. He’d never felt happier in his life. That night, back at the hotel, after everyone had left, he stepped into another shower to try and get more of the fake tan off. He knew he’d be shedding it for days to come even after doing his best to scrub it away. He enjoyed the way the water cascaded down his rock hard musculature. His glutes like twin boulders. His pecs like two shields of stone. The veins on his biceps and forearms like veins in marble. His cock throbbed, and he indulged himself; it only took a half dozen strokes before he blew a load all over the hotel shower wall, the hot water turning his cum all stringy. He turned off the shower, enjoying the warm humid air. Slowly he toweled off and stepped back into the room, naked, his skin raw and scrubbed fresh. He stopped in his tracks. Someone was in the room. It was the bodybuilder from the gym. That bodybuilder. “Adam,” he said, smiling. He was sitting in the armchair by the window, just as massive as the first time Adam saw him. Stringer tanktop covering less than a quarter of his tanned, bulging, super heavyweight torso. Dark nips angling downward from the sheer size of his pecs. His lips quirked into a smile. “You’re looking well.” “What the fuck are you doing in my room,” Adam said, the timid pipsqueak from a year ago nowhere to be seen. “Settle down. Relax. And you’re welcome, by the way.” “I’ll settle down when I’m good and ready. Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing here?” “You’ll figure out who I am in time. And I’m here to congratulate you. And deliver the remainder of your prize.” Adam’s eyes flickered to the gimmicky sword he’d been awarded for winning the overall. Amateur shows don’t have cash prizes. What could this guy mean? “What are you, a rep for a supplement company or something?” The bodybuilder’s lips quirked as he held in a genuine laugh. “That’s a new one. No, as I said, you’ll figure out my identity in time. Don’t you remember our first meeting?” “I… I do,” Adam said reluctantly. “Well, I simply asked if you wanted to get huge, and you said you did. Your need blazed like a bonfire on a dark night, you know. Obvious. It practically begged for me to intervene on your behalf. But I do need permission, you know. So I asked. You wanna get huge? And you said you do. So….” the man gestured elegantly, muscles shifting and flexing as he did. “Here we are.” “I don’t understand.” “You will.” And with that, Adam woke up. His head hurt. His mouth was dry. His slow sleeping pulse suddenly doubled as he remembered - the weird bodybuilder! In his room! Talking some kind of crazy talk! Adam leapt to his feet and almost fell to the ground. His body wasn’t like it had been the day before. He was… larger. A lot larger. The same height, 5’8”. The same bones. But his muscles had inflated. At least 25 lbs. He saw himself in the mirror above the TV, his handsome face freaked out, terrified, his chest and ab-quilted stomach heaving with heavy breaths. What the fuck. * SIX MONTHS LATER His work was definitely going to find some excuse to fire him in the weeks ahead, he could tell. When he walked - or, waddled - into a meeting room, their faces screwed up like he had a stink about him. He was outgrowing his work clothes and he didn’t want to invest in new ones if they were just going to fire him anyway. But he had to get money from somewhere. OnlyFans was a surprising help for his finances. He didn’t even have to have sex - just posing, flexing, or even doing normal things like shaving, or preparing food with no shirt on. Sometimes he got his dick out but a lot of the times he didn’t even do that. And people in the thousands paid to watch him, this young guy, just turning 24, handsome enough to be a movie star, with his jaw dropping muscles. The day he was finally let go, for reasons he could probably challenge successfully except he didn’t want to, he celebrated with an OnlyFans post. “Watch me flex out of my work clothes.” All his office attire, going back to when he had been a 150 lbs nobody. One by one he squeezed his muscular body into them and then flexed hard, forcing seams to split, tearing fabric apart. It was like ripping apart his old identity. The old Adam. Adam wasn’t much for social media but he couldn’t keep his physique under wraps any longer. Instagram was a must. He hated it, but the sponsorships he’d picked up since his big win required him to make posts, and the larger his following the more likely they’d be to renew contracts. He had no paycheque anymore so he did his best to lean into it. As Nationals drew near the buzz around him was unmistakable. Instagram is full of bodybuilders who seem like they’re going to blow the competition away on show day, only to finish in the middle of the pack - but everyone was convinced that, this time, for Adam, it would be different. He was the heavy favourite among the online crowd. He’d registered at 194 lbs at his first show. What no one knew was the very next day, after the visitation from the weird bodybuilder in his hotel room, he’d weighed in at 221 lbs. The growth kept coming during the three months of bulking he’d planned before beginning his cut for the Nationals. 250 lbs is a lot on someone who’s only 5’8”, but that’s where he landed before the cut. That’s when he got fired from his job. They just couldn’t handle someone that massive, such a meathead in a professional environment. No one who’s of sound mind would ever do something like that to their bodies. Obvious steroid abuse. Ticking time bomb of roid rage. No one felt comfortable in the office with him. Fuck them anyway. He was making good money from sponsorships and OnlyFans, and he’d be getting his pro card soon. His cut for his second-ever contest began, and just like the first one, the scale was stubborn. It dipped down as low as 243, but it stayed there for a while, and then began creeping up. He was vicious about his diet and cardio. He didn’t cheat at all. But he was growing into his show again. With two weeks to go, he was back at 250 lbs, but so much leaner and sharper than he’d been just a couple months previous. The internet was losing their mind. This wasn’t just a kid who deserved a pro card. Adam was rapidly growing an Olympia-contender physique, right before everyone’s eyes, and doing it at an accelerated pace that beggared belief. He flew out for the show a week early, set up shop in an Airbnb, did his final workouts and a photoshoot at a local gym, went home and ate his prepared meals, updated his instagram and his OnlyFans, played video games, and then slept. Day after day. He waddled into registration exactly 59 lbs heavier than he’d been for his first show. 253 lbs. The guy recording the weights couldn’t restrain himself. “Damn, son.” He looked Adam up and down. “That is a HELL of a lot of mass to be carrying on a 5’8” frame.” “Thanks man,” Adam said nonchalantly, trying not to become overly emotional. He kept a tight rein on things until after the show was over. He knew he was a favourite to win. He knew that pro card was his. But he had to pretend he didn’t know, until it had actually happened. Super Heavyweight. Called to the centre of the lineup within seconds of getting on stage. Stayed there the whole time. Nailed every pose. Adam’s physique was shocking. The official photographer’s camera was going off like a machine gun. He knew this was something special, that pictures of Adam from this show would be well known twenty-five years from now. These pictures he was taking, as this freak of musculature moved gracefully from pose to pose to pose, would be joining the echelons of legendary physique pictorial. Cutler’s quad stomp. Arnold on the beach. And Adam winning his pro card, absolutely mopping the floor with the competition. The after party was glorious. Everyone wanted to suck his dick, metaphorically and, eventually, literally. He should have been exhausted but he felt elated. He felt high, like he was on a drug. He kept pumping his cock into warm willing holes in the hotel room, a frenzy of muscle and lust and dominance. He was the fucking champ. He was the newest IFBB pro. He was only 25 years old. He was hot shit, and he had his whole future ahead of him. He didn’t remember falling asleep. When he woke up it was still dark outside. The room was gloomy, dim. He felt hungover. His balls ached. How many times had he cum last night? Five? Six? More? He groaned and rolled over, intending to lumber into the bathroom for some water - he could drink all he liked now, after all. He froze mid-roll. There was someone else in bed with him. A big lumpy shape, half-seen in the darkness. Denting the mattress. Not a surprise - hadn’t he hosted a victory orgy? But the room was dark, no one else was here, and although there’d been plenty of muscular men attached to his dick last night, this one was bigger than any of them. About the same size as me, Adam thought. The other man blinked awake and smiled prettily. His massive pecs mounded up under his chin as he propped himself up on one arm and leaned toward Adam. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, showing perfect white teeth that almost glowed in the gloom. “Wh-... what the fuck,” Adam stammered. “Don’t be so shocked. You really ought to learn to expect me by now.” He reached a hand out and stroked Adam’s muscular arm, then his face. Adam didn’t draw away, for some reason. He felt hypnotized by the mysterious bodybuilder. He was paralyzed yet untroubled by this fact. “You’ve done so well. Look at the size of you. You’re really huge now, aren’t you?” “Yeah I’m… I’m pretty huge...” Adam felt himself speak, but it was like someone else was speaking. “I’m contractually obligated to give you an off-ramp here, but fair warning. It’s your last chance to back out.” “Huh?” The bodybuilder smirked. “It’s like their brains shrivel up, I swear.” He resumed stroking Adam’s handsome face, toying with his short curly hair. “I’ll make it simple for you, big guy. You can stabilize around this size. You’ll spend your off-season in the 270s, you’ll compete in the 250’s, you’ll probably have quite the career. I can’t promise what kind of success, because I won’t be involved any longer. In fact, tonight will be the last time you see me. Pity, that. If you take this option, I mean.” Adam whimpered. His cock was throbbing, achingly hard, like a steel beam in the sun, like he hadn’t cum for a month. “The other option is, you stay on this ride and we see just how huge ‘huge’ really is.” Adam felt his mouth open and close. “Guh….” The bodybuilder stroked his face again. “Such a pretty man, really, even without the muscles. So what do you say, kid. Do you want to get even huger?” “Fuck, yes, please, anything, I want to be a monster, I want to be the biggest bodybuilder ever, I never want to stop growing, I wanna grow til I split my skin” Adam felt the words come tumbling out, like a dam inside him had burst. The bodybuilder chuckled, his pecs flexing and dancing. “That’s what I hoped I’d hear. You know that bonfire of desire I said you had inside you? It’s burning brighter than ever, it’s never dimmed. It rages, I can sense it across the eons. I’ll see you next time, handsome.” Then he leaned in and kissed Adam. It was the most powerful kiss Adam had ever experienced. He felt his soul melting. Untouched, his cock began to twitch and dance and spurt cum like a broken sprinkler. Adam moaned loudly, reached out to pull the sexy bodybuilder in closer, and his hands passed through thin air. The man was gone. Adam slumped back onto the mattress, stared at the ceiling for a second. Then, realizing just how disgusting and stinky his mouth must have been during that kiss, that best-ever kiss with that god of a man, rolled over and went to the bathroom for a glass of water and to clean himself up. * Adam shouldn’t have been shocked when he woke up in his hotel room the morning after his show. It had happened once already. And yet… he somehow hadn’t expected it. He was bigger. A lot bigger. Like 40 lbs bigger. 253 lbs is a lot on a 5’8” frame, like the man at check-in said. 290-something, in contest shape? Practically unheard of. That’s beyond Roelly Winklaar size. That’s beyond Big Ramy size. That’s already in a category of its own. He threw himself into the off-season with a vengeance. The mass came, like his body knew no limit. Every set, his freakish muscles filled with so much lactic acid, his eyes would tear up, he would be gasping and moaning, unable to ease the pain. And then his timer would beep and he’d launch into another set, ignoring the throbbing pain, pumping himself ever huger. He grew. And grew. And grew. A member of the 300 lbs club now, rapidly filling out. His shoulders mound up alongside his head, bigger than his skull. His pecs hit his chin when he looks down at them. His walk now an extreme waddle. Every eye staring at him when he goes out in public. Blocking a sidewalk, blocking an aisle at the grocery store. People watch him, mouths agape. Children ask questions. Mommy, what’s wrong with that man? His first pro show, an Olympia qualifier. The discourse went from “how well will he do” to “is he a contender to win it” to “how well is he going to do at the Olympia after he wins this?” He tried to ignore the headlines in the bodybuilding press. ADAM NOVAK PREPARES FOR HIS FIRST PRO SHOW, PROMPTING THE QUESTION: HOW BIG IS TOO BIG A NEW ERA OF MASS MONSTERS OR A ONE-OFF FREAK? ADAM NOVAK He started his prep at 312 lbs. Just like before, the scale was stubborn. It dipped down slowly, stalled, and then began climbing again as the show neared. Adam’s training sessions were almost like trances, now. He’d emerge from the altered space occasionally, and see the pumped, fit to burst muscle freak, face anguished from the lactic acid burn, tortured body slick with sweat and tears, XXXXXL tank top about to explode, veins the size of pencils, lungs heaving for oxygen. He was so massive he could barely get enough air in to fuel himself. He was always winded. His feet hurt from carrying this much weight. His gut hurt from eating so much food, every single day. Even his contest prep diet was enough for a family. He got leaner, and leaner, and leaner. Scarily lean. It was the most shredded he’d ever been. He weighed in at 317 lbs the day before the show. “Jesus,” the guy taking the measurements muttered. “Holy fuck.” Adam’s body seemed impossible, there was no way a human being could carry this much meat. The few people who knew him before, when he was just a normal dude, who were still in touch with him all sent him texts and DMs, worried about his health. It’s too much, Adam. Your body can’t take this for long. Forums and reddit threads were full of predictions of his doom. He must be on grams a week. Getting this huge this fast - kids today are too impatient. He’s going to pay the price for it. The show was a coronation. He was the heaviest guy there. He was the leanest guy there. His proportions were perfect, if of a magnitude unheard of. When he hit a most muscular, the audience actually gasped. The Olympia qualification was his. The celebration was subdued, though. Not an orgy like last time. He didn’t even want to go to a restaurant. He was tired of how people in public gawped at him. He just wanted to chill in the hotel room, smoke a joint, order some pizza, watch some stupid videos on youtube. So, that’s what he and his crew did. The champ gets what he wants. As he said goodbye to the last of his crew, he knew what to expect. He had been expecting this all along. The memory of the kiss in the hotel bed last time stayed with him. It was seared into his soul, a tender spot he couldn’t stop poking at. It was the best kiss he’d ever had. It had been far more than a kiss. “You can come out now, if you’re here,” Adam said to the empty room. “You’re learning,” the bodybuilder said as he stepped out of the dark bathroom. “I’m not that stupid. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life, that’s all. You can’t expect people to catch on that fast.” “Can’t I? You lot used to be so much more reasonable before your faith in science overtook the evidence of your senses,” the bodybuilder smirked. “Although I will admit, your science has wrought many wondrous things.” He flexed, then, admiring himself. He’s smaller than me, Adam realized. A lot smaller. “Everyone is smaller than you now, Adam,” the bodybuilder said, answering Adam’s thoughts. “A very small number of them are close, but you’re top of the heap. You’re it. The biggest bodybuilder in the world, in human history. How’s it feel?” “It’s exhausting.” The bodybuilder was silent, and Adam felt compelled to continue. “I can’t even tie my own shoes. I have to turn sideways to get through some doors. Everyone stares at me. I’m always out of breath and my feet hurt. Nothing fits. When I’m not lifting I’m eating, and when I’m not eating I’m sleeping. I have to wear a machine when I sleep so I don’t suffocate on my own meat.” The bodybuilder stared at him, still silent. Was that the tiniest shimmer of pity in his dark, expressive eyes? Finally the bodybuilder spoke. “I told you last time, it was your last chance to back out. There is no escape, now.” Adam was quiet. “I know.” The bodybuilder narrowed his eyes. “That bonfire of need in you….” “Yes?” “It’s still there, Adam. It hasn’t dimmed, at all.” Adam hung his head, his chin in the cleft between his pecs, his arms unable to rest at his sides because his lats were in the way. His legs forced apart by the sheer volume of his quads. “.... yeah.” “You want to get even bigger, don’t you, Adam?” Adam felt his breath shaking and catching. He was trembling. His body couldn’t take this. It was too much. It was way too much. He wouldn’t last another year if he kept growing. This has to end. It has to end now. It… “.... yeah.” Adam heard the sound of a wretched sob from somewhere in the room, the sound of a broken soul. The bodybuilder stepped closer. He reached an elegant finger under Adam’s chin, having to work it into the canyon between his pecs to do so. He lifted Adam’s face. “Son of the earth, the need in you is…. exquisite. It is beautiful. You have the purest need of any mortal I’ve seen, and I have been here for…. For far longer than you can know, my treasure.” Adam felt a tear trickling down his face as the fallen angel’s true form flickered through his disguise. The beauty he glimpsed was painful to behold. “I should not do this. I am here to punish the sin of greed. I don’t know what they’ll do to me. This might be my unmaking. But you, Adam… your greed is no sin. It is purified, somehow. The purest essence of want. Son of the earth, I’ll give you what you want, but it won’t hurt you any more. It won’t sap your life any more. Your skin won’t rip and tear. Your organs won’t fail. Your heart won’t break. You’ll keep growing, son of the earth, and I’ll protect you, damn the cost.” A second tear trickled down Adam’s face as his eyes were locked with the demon’s. The world was shrinking, it was only their two bodies, not even the room around them. The point of contact where they touched was all of reality. Adam’s monstrously overgrown form, obscene and impractical mass, and the demon’s human guise, the pure essence of virile muscular masculinity. The demon leaned in and kissed Adam again. It was like in the hotel bed. The ancient sign of a sealed covenant. The terms of their arrangement had been altered; a new contract was signed. Then, smiling, the demon took Adam by the hand and led him to the hotel room bed. His hands slowly running over the human’s unheard of musculature. The angry red stretch marks where his skin had begun to fail. The crevices where two muscles had run out of room and were now vying for territory. Adam’s ass, the biggest most muscular pair of glutes on planet earth, slowly being prised apart by the demon’s thick foot-long cock, radiating heat, slick, lubricating as it went. He was as good as his word - Adam would not come to harm as long as he was under the demon’s power. Adam felt drugged. He felt cosmic. His whole body was a sexual organ and the demon was touching every inch of it. Their hot breath in unison, mortal and immortal. The demon was inside him, deep inside him, pulsing, filling him with radiant seed, more and more of it. They couldn’t keep their mouths off each other, tongues darting, lips grasping. They wanted to devour each other and keep each other whole. When Adam woke up the next morning, he was alone. He felt elevated; he felt empty. He was 340 lbs. * NINE MONTHS LATER The entire Olympia weekend was a media spectacle. Adam was the biggest name in bodybuilding, not just literally but metaphorically. He’d just been a normal young man three years ago, when a demon had visited his gym at midnight and offered him a deal. Not that Adam understood that it was a deal, back then. But now, after having gained more than 200 pounds of raw beef with no end in sight, he knew it very well. Everyone wanted to know Adam Novak’s training secrets. Everyone wanted to know who his coach was. Everyone wanted to know what next gen roids he had to be taking. They tried to make the press conference about more than him. Soft-ball questions lobbed at the other competitors. They tried to make it seem like a true contest, like anyone else had a shot. Even though Adam clearly dwarfed everyone at the table, hunched over his microphone like a literal mountain of meat, the largest official Olympia track suit looking comically tight, painted on. Several months ago he was already the biggest bodybuilder in history. And he had grown since then, grown a lot. He registered at 358 lbs, still at 5’8”. The video clips of it happening had gone viral. He needed help to get dressed and undressed. He got so pumped backstage that he needed someone to feed him the endless amounts of carbs that his huge body required in the hours before the show - he could no longer touch his own face, or even reach his mouth with a fork. He posed to Sympathy for the Devil that night, the crowd losing its mind. They knew they were witnessing history. Adam felt kind of cheesy. The song choice seemed too on the nose. Adam hoped he was watching. Adam hoped he liked the tip of the hat. Adam wanted to see him grin at the little joke. Adam longed to see him again. What had he said? He might get in trouble? “This could be my undoing?” Something like that. He was supposed to punish Adam, but he had decided not to. He had decided to give Adam everything he wanted and to protect him from the negative downsides. Would he be waiting for Adam at the hotel tonight? Would they make love again, like they had last time? Adam couldn’t stop thinking about it. He realized, in the van back to the hotel, his gargantuan freakshow body taking up the entire back row, that he was in love. He was in love with a demon, his very soul was magnetized to him, and he didn’t know if he’d ever see him again. His heart was pounding as he waddled down the hotel corridor, so overgrown he almost brushed the walls with his beachball delts. It wasn’t the heart attack that internet trolls kept saying would claim him any day, as he grew and grew and grew beyond all reason. His heart was pounding because he didn’t know what was waiting for him. If he didn’t show up…. Adam opened the door. The room was dark. He hit the lightswitch and heard his own tight voice, aching with hope. Aching with need. A simple word, wanting an answer. “Hello?”
  6. An hour went by. Adam showed his massive body to his little friend, from top to bottom, in an intense posing session. The little British guy couldn’t believe to what just had happened. His biggest dream came true. It was a long and joyful dream coming into life. He did not want that day to ever end, but he knew they were both coming to the end of the show. Adam was standing, he kneeled against his bag to zip it. “You know little fella. I showed my pec power because I have got a big surprise for you. You paid me so much over the years that I want to give you the best day ever!” Adam said. “Which is?” Kevin said. “Remove your trousers and underwear. Go commando!” Adam said. Kevin’s face was shocked but at the same time a tiny smile of hope appeared in his face. He did not hesitate to go commando, and immediately removed the unnecessary pieces of cloths. Adam walked towards his friend, grabbed him by his hand and brought him to the table. The two big hands grabbed his by the hips, lifting him with ease and setting him on the table. “Lay down, relax!” Adam said. Kevin’s cock was already as hard as rock. Adam grabbed it with his big hand and locked it between his pecs. The party started. Like in the bottle game, Adam’s pecs were moving up and down, creating horizontal peaks, massaging vigorously Kevin’s hard cock. Adam was moaning in pleasure and ecstasy already. Adam did not need to move his friend’s cock up and down like during a jack-off as his lateral movements with his pecs were doing the trick. Once in a while Adam increased the pressure on the penis, making Kevin scream into pleasure. During that act his pecs showed more striation than the previous stage. Kevin’s penis was literally swallowed by the massive Ukrainian’s chest. “This is my body! I will make you beg for mercy! You will demand to stop me because it is too much!” Adam said. “Never!” Kevin said moaning. Adam applied more pressure. Kevin’s head moved to the right and screamed. He did not come yet. He was about to. “Who’s dominating?” Adam said. “I am!” Kevin moaned. Admin increased the pressure, speeding up the pecs’ movement. Kevin moaned louder. “Who’s dominating?” Adam said again. “I…I…I…am” Kevin disarticulated and moaned that answer. Again , Adam went faster. Kevin moaned again. “Who is dominating?” Adam said once more. “You are! You are! You are!” Kevin screamed. Adam stopped. Grabbed Kevin’s penis again with his big hand, and placed the penis in the elbow pit. He locked it. Soft. Then hard. He flexed his bicep, and like an a gear pump, he moved his arm up and down, simulating a jack-off. Kevin moaned, screamed, and yelled. All was pure pleasure. Kevin’s mind was shutting down. His thoughts were with no meaning. Like under ecstasy, he imagined he was flying away. It was a mixture of sensation. Excitement, joy, pleasure, fulfilment, gratification, ecstasy, pleasurable pain. His head moved in every direction. Moans, screams, growls were the noises produced by his voice. His face was a melting pot of fulfilled high libido. Joy and pain. He couldn’t know how long he might have been resisting to him. “I can squeeze you harder, if you wish!” Adam said. “Y…e…s, ple-ple-please” Kevin said. Adam squeezed harder. Kevin yelled. Adam lied on Kevin’s body and yet the cock was locked in his pecs. He rubbed his huge hands over his victim’s check, to pass through the abdomen, gently sliding the cock over his pec. He released the joyful hold. Adam grabbed Kevin’s cock, placed it in between his elbow pit and locked it again. “My biceps are capable of making you scream of joy!” Adam said. “Or make you yell in pain!” Adam said while squeezing harder and harder the penis. Kevin yelled, in pain, his face drew a painful picture. Adam release the hold. “My body is for pleasure or pain, as you have noticed. I want to bring you along with myself next time I am going to crush someone with his deadly machine. My body!” Adam said. Kevin lifted himself using his hand, he was ecstatic, happy, joyful. “Oh yes, please, pleas, please!” Kevin excited said. “What about flying to the southern states of the USA?” Adam said. “I am in Adam!” Kevin said. “I am not going to tell you whom I am going to fight, it will be a total surprise. I’ll crush the life out of that bodybuilder!” Adam said. “Can I have a hint?” Kevin said. “Hairy!” Adam said. Kevin began scanning the entire knowledge of bodybuilders that his mind had. The word “hairy” was deceptive, anyone can be hairy during the off-season. No one goes through an entire body wax if not under a completion. Who could that bodybuilder be, he wondered to himself inside his mind. Adam noticed Kevin’s focused face. He threw that stone, that news, but nothing more, and nothing more will be disclosed until they will all meet. “You face is simply amazing!” Adam said. “You cannot contain your excitement, and you are scanning the entire bodybuilder-file list in your brain. I am glad I caught your attention even more!” Adam said. Kevin smiled, yet with excitement. “So tell, me what would you really like to see during the match?” Adam said. Silence. No words spoken. Yet, Kevin was still thinking about whom Adam was going to destroy with his bare hands. “Make him cry! I want whomever that person is to beg for mercy, screaming, yelling. Asking you to spare his life!” Kevin said getting himself together. He was having an hard-on. Adam had the same reaction. “Boom!” Adam screamed showing his front double bicep. “I will make him cry like no one else before!” Adam said. “The session is already scheduled and booked. I want to read to you the e-mail he had send to schedule this deadly session!” Adam said. He went back to his back and from the external pocket he grabbed his table, unlocked it, and logged in to his e-mail. “And here it is! I will read it for you” Adam said. Thanks Adam for being in touch with me. As discussed in our e-mail exchange, I am into muscle domination. And by this, I mean to crush my victims. Easter Europeans are famous for their level of musculature, power, and strength. However, you are talking with a person whom has already been wrestling, or better put in this way, dominated other European bodybuilders, and especially those whom come from the old Soviet Union. I won’t be delicate with you, I will use the whole arsenal that I have built is these years. I am not only a bodybuilder, a model, and a strongman. I really do enjoy crushing puny little men like you. You will be huge, ripped, and strong but, I will beat you very easy. You requested my stats, didn’t you? Here they are: 243 lbs and 5’7’’. Not big enough, smaller than you. How they say, THE BIGGER THEY ARE, THE HARDER THEY FALL. Looking forward to squeeze the shit out of you. CB. “Cocky! Arrogant! Bastard!” Kevin said. “I’ll kill him!” Adam said. Kevin dressed himself up. He couldn’t wait to fly over to the United States. He checked his pocket, took the wallet, and hand the American Express card to Adam. “This is on me!” Kevin said. “What?” Adam said. “Purchase the tickets, the hotel. Actually, book an entire house, at my expenses. I want privacy for this unforgettable session. It’s all on me!” Kevin said. “We’re splitting!” Adam said. “No way!” Kevin said, standing up. “As you wish master!” Adam said with a sarcastic tone one voice. The both left the room and went to the laptop that was open and on the table. Adam surfed and booked the tickets and a beautiful house in the city centre. Kevin did not watch the screen, he lost himself massing the shoulders of the bodybuilder’s. It was another piece of heaven. He realised how hard and huge those muscles were. Attempting to massage those shoulder was like rubbing his hands over pure concrete or marble. There wasn’t even a remote chance that his little hands could untie any knotted muscle in that divine and god-like body. That session made Kevin realise the reason why they’re called “Muscle-Gods.” They are everything what described in the ancient books of Greek and Roman mythology. Beautiful, muscular, and powerful. They could invade and dominate an entire country with no minimum effort. They can take human life with easy movements, and in addition to that, they are pure sex-muscle. The massaging made his penis go hard once again. Adam realised it, and moving his hand backward, he grabbed Kevin’s cock, and moved the guy next to him. “I can make you do whatever I want!” Adam said. “Please do!” Kevin said. “Once this is over, and I mean this match, I will be at your total disposal, and you will be making anything you want to my body. You can suck me all up! I authorise you with this!” Adam said.
  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.
  8. Hola vivo al sur de Madrid y me gustaría encontrar a alguien que me pueda guiar haciendo mis primeros ciclos. Me gustaría dar el paso y transformar mi cuerpo, pero me da miedo porque no sabría hacerlo de manera segura.
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