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  1. Heya y'all! It's my first time actually posting anything on this site (that i can remember, at least) and the first time I try my hand at writing this kind of story. but since I read a lot of content from lots of authors both from here and from the previous website, I figured it was time to give a small fraction of it back. Fair warning; English isn't my mothertongue, so any mistakes are entirely mine! Without further ado, here's part one! I hope you'll enjoy it. Male Hunger Part one The humid air of his room had gotten warmer. Bran huffed and licked his lips, tasting the salty sweat racing down his head, hips rocking, his wide hands wildly jerking off his thick cock. He groaned lowly, racking a cum-covered palm through his short hair and started slapping his dick on his 6-pack, splashing precum everywhere. After a few beats, his heavy balls surged higher.. And Bran stopped, out of breath, hands off his penis, his body tensing, muscles flexing hard to keep himself from cumming. After a few long seconds, he brought a veiny hand to his mouth and licked the pre off his thick fingers, one after the other. The taste of pre and the weight of each rough fingers in his mouth had him shuddering so much his eyes closed. Bran roughly pinched his nips and grunted quite loudly as saliva filled his mouth. His other hand skimmed down his thick pecs, along the valleys of his abs, to finally grasp at his thick shaft. He fisted his dick and – the immediate, overwhelming pleasure had him gasping out and snorting air back in, nostrils wide, hips pumping- he distantly recognized the potent scent of his own musky sweat and semen, different, stronger than ever before – He needed more. “Fuuck…,” he growled out, kicking his muscled legs further apart. He needed just a bit more. His other hand left his fluid-covered pecs to tug at and massage his bloated balls, the sensations shooting up sparks up his body. They felt so good, so full, he threw his head back on his pillow; his pre-covered hair coating them. He rocked his hips harder, the sound of his bed hitting the wall getting louder. He distantly heard some of his dorm neighbors hit the wall back but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a single fuck; his attention solely focused on pleasuring his thick, weeping cock. “Fuck!,” he snarled, teeth bared, as release started sweeping through his body. He tensed ever more, both hands tight on his shaft now, tense, striated pecs protruding more and hiding the root of his dick. Not that it mattered; his eyes were focused on the way his cock thickened even more, despite the two fists holding it. Long moments passed, during which his heavy balls, usually hanging low, pulled up and sent its fiery magma up. Bran panted wildly, wide eyes almost rolling backwards, as the first load of semen burst out and arched up the wall behind him, almost splashing on the wall. Some of the thick magma dropped back down and landed on his face, in his mouth, in his hair and on his pecs. After a few tense seconds, as the thicker and warmer liquid and its unusually strong taste coated his taste-buds, a second explosion of semen went out. It did much the same as the first. The third was much the same. “Mmhhh… So good...,” Bran moaned lewdly, in a pleasure-filled haze, as his body alternated between tensing and releasing loads of thick cum over and over. He groaned some more at the ninth; the final shot, the rest of his release dribbling out thickly and utterly flooding his abs. Still in a daze, heart beating loudly in his ears, Bran stroked his heaving belly, sliding the thick white goo over his wide torso, up his neck, down to his pubes. He thoroughly coated his still-rock-hard penis and huge, heavy balls in the stuff. Then he scooped as much as he could and licked it up with one hand, the other dedicating itself to playing with his hard cock. After a while, Bran’s stomach cramped. He was quite hungry but couldn’t be bothered to move. But the sleepiness he expected after such a release didn’t come: he started feeling antsy, as though he had had too much caffeine. His cramping stomach decided him; he would eat something, maybe watch something mindless on the TV, and then he’d go back to bed. But as he got up, something felt off; but Bran shrugged the idea away. He did the same with the vague idea of putting on clothes; it was too much trouble, besides no one was there to care besides himself. And he felt quite warm; he was still sweating. The fact he used to care a lot more about not being buck-naked in the dorm, even in his room, a few weeks ago amused him distantly. His feet thudded and left perspiration on the floor as he left the cum-covered bed and wall behind him. He felt something warm hit his legs and snorted in amusement; his hard-on was still leaking. Feeling even hungrier, Bran headed straight to the small fridge and opened the door. The sudden light had him squinting -the sudden cold surprised him – as he bent his head to search for something good to eat. The cold felt good against his warm flesh and he shuddered in delight. He reached for a can of coke, rose back up, and drank it in a few big gulps. He drank another, and another after that. Then, stomach feeling less empty, but still needing fuel, he went back down and was about to take another can when he noticed something and huffed out a short laugh. “Fuckin’ hell,” he whispered. So focused he had been on filling his belly, he hadn’t really noticed that his still leaking hard-on had coated some stuff in pre. He smirked, shook his head and took out some leftover – spaghetti bolognese – to heat up while he turned on the light, searched for a fork and a big plate. After serving himself, he set himself in front of the TV and, before turning it on, he couldn’t help but checking himself out. His reflection showed him as he was; sitting on a slightly-too-small sofa, large arms bursting out off thickly muscled shoulders and traps rising high of his bull neck. Big legs spread wide, cock high and thick, still dripping, heavy balls low and resting on the sofa. His tight musclebound gut and the V-shape low on his hips partially hidden by his wide and 10 inches long cock, his tits hanging low on a decent pair of round pecs, biceps close to 17 inches and veins and striations both easy to see on his 6’3 frame… All of those were pretty good reasons for the deep satisfaction he felt at looking at himself, a smirk reflecting such masculine pride tugging at his lips. His cock pulsed heavily as pre made his abs glisten and- his stomach cramped: he took a big bite of his meal, burped loudly – the coke – huffed out a laugh, and, feeling a bit more satisfied but still quite ravenous, he demolished his meal. But before he knew it, he was back at the fridge, pulling out enough to make another, albeit bigger meal – he was that hungry. But a man his size needed to eat quite a lot to stay so big. He smiled. “’m damn glad Ian’s not back yet,” he snickered, “he’d freak if he saw me right now”. He slapped his belching cock absently, a meaner smirk on his lips. “Though I know how I’d shut him up, mmffhhh…”, Bran closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, imagination running wild, his cock pulsing harder. Bran then smiled and stole an under-cooked chicken breast from the frying pan, too hungry to wait any longer. He munched on it, muscled jaw breaking it down fast, and his strong neck moving as he swallowed, eyes glazing over in pleasure, drool dropping from his lips. Too busy eating, he didn’t notice the bigger veins appearing all over his studly body. He was too taken up by the need to fill his void-like belly. Meanwhile, the scent of his body, of male pleasure and exertion slowly but silently got stronger in the warm and humid air of his room.
  2. The Roommate By BBMikeNJ Part 1 My first semester at college started out in a pretty ordinary way. I had arrived at campus a week before classes started to meet the Biology professor, who I was going to be a lab assistant for. By the time most of the other students started to pour in, I was already familiar with my dorm, Elmwood Hall, and most of the campus. So when this big freak of a jock stopped me to ask directions, I was more than happy to help out. "Excuse me," he said, "can you tell me the way to Elmwood Hall?” Now, I'm 19 years old, 5'9", and weigh 170 lbs. solid. This guy looked about my age, but was about 6 feet tall, and at least 250 lbs. of muscle. His sweatshirt says "XXL" on the front, and is fitting him like a second skin. The sleeves are so tight I can see Veins. His delts were so oversized that at first I thought he had shoulder pads on. I knew that when I answer him, my mouth will move, but I'm not sure any sound will come out. "Sure," I managed to stammer, "just go around this first building here, and Elmwood is right behind it." "Thanks, man," he said, and strode off. I watched him saunter off in that confident jock way, and then zeroed in on the way his jeans highlighted his rolling, mounded glutes. Holy shit, I'd never seen anything like it. And then I thought of something. I didn't have a roommate assigned to me yet. What if.....nah, nothing that good ever happens to me. But hope springs eternal! I went off to the lab to get things set up. Classes started the next day, and I had a bunch of crap to do, but I couldn't get my mind of the super jock. I hurried to get things done and get back to the dorm. I had to know.... I powerwalked across campus, my heart pounding. I went into the dorm, and as I neared my door, I slowed down. I leaned my ear against the door and listened....someone was in there. I opened the door slowly and leaned in. It was him. Putting his shit away. Shirtless. His back was to me as he put stuff into his closet area. Or should I say his BBBAACCKKK. It was so wide and thickly mounded with muscle. His traps rested on top like an ox yoke. And he had that deep valley running down the middle, down to his tight as a drum lower back. As I stepped in, he heard me and turned around. "Hey, look who it is!" he said, all smiling. "Is this your room?" "Yeah...yours too?" I said, stupidly. "Hell yeah," he said. "Looks like we're bunkmates!" Holy fuck. My roommate was a massive, hulking musclehead. And nice as hell too. How was I going to survive this. "I noticed some of your books, man, you gotta be pretty bright." "Thanks," I said, "I'm here on an academic scholarship, so I try and fake it." "That's cool as hell. You might have to help me out with some of my classes, bro, ‘cause all I really care about is lifting and growing!" Oh my god in heaven. "It sure as hell shows," I said. "My name's Scott, by the way." "Hey Scott, Jack." He put out his hand and we shook. I couldn't help looking at his huge pec rippling as we shook, and the silver dollar-sized nips staring at me. "Yeah, man, I know it shows, I see people staring at it all the time. I fucking LOVE it." With that he put his hands on his big pecs, cupping them and hoisting them up and down, then slowly ran his hands down over his amazing 8-pack abs. "And I can't wait to get even Bigger!" "HHow much you weigh now?" I stammered. I could hardly breathe, and my cock was getting real curious to get a peak for itself. "Weighed in yesterday at 279. We need to get a mirror in here. I love to watch my progress. Aiming to hit 320 by the end of the semester." I sat down on my bed before my knees gave out. "That's over 40 pounds in four months, Jack. Won't some of that be fat?" "Nah," he said, "Everything I eat turns to muscle, always has." With that he sat on his bed across from me, and raised his arm into a bicep shot. My cock was throbbing and inching up and out. "You like that, don't you, Scott? Twenty-two inches cold. And I'm not even flexing it yet." I was getting nervous as hell. My cock was starting to force its head outta my pants....but then I realized, so was his. He was getting totally into his own freak arm, rolling his wrist to make the bicep rise and fall, the heavy musclebelly totally under his control. "Yeah, look at this monster, Scott." He flexed it over and over, slowly and purposefully, almost trance-like, as he stroked himself with his other hand. He was leaking pre all over himself and so was I. His arm was pumping up huge, and his forearm looked like a bowling pin snaked with veins. "Now watch this, boy," he said, and he tightened his arm as hard as he could....his huge bicep balled up bigger than ever, the deep bicep split separating the two biceps heads, the rear one rising up over the front one, the peak rising up big as a tennis ball. I hadn't even touched myself, but I came. and came. and came. And so did he. We shot at the exact same time. We're roomies. More to cum…
  3. londonboy

    m/m The Freshman Forty

    “Bro, I’m home for the summer,” the text from Max said on my screen. “I need to chill tonight. My parents are already driving me crazy. Up for some company?” “Sure,” I wrote back, thinking about how it had been over nine months since we had seen each other. “The dungeon at five?” “Perfect. I’m going to need some food, though. I eat all the time. Gained some weight at school,” he shot back. “Didn’t we all! I think they call it ‘The Freshman Fifteen.’ Mine was caused by beer. We can order pizza. My parents are gone for the weekend,” I typed back. “Sweet. See you five-ish,” Max replied. I went down to the basement – otherwise known as the dungeon – to make sure it was suitable for hanging out. I’m sure it hadn’t been used since I had left for college. To my surprise, I found out my mom had clearly been cleaning it. There was a big screen for playing video games, a set of weights in the corner, some mats on the floor for rough-housing, and a couple of beat-up sofas for laying around. To my joyful surprise, there were also beers in the fridge – my parents having realized that Max and I were now responsible enough to drink. When it got close to five, I threw some popcorn in the microwave, so we’d have something to eat right away. It would be good to catch up with my best friend. “Yo! Bonehead! Where are you?” yelled Max from somewhere upstairs in the house. “In the dungeon. Get your wimpy little ass down here. Popcorn is ready,” I yelled back and I heard Max bouncing down the steps and I turned to greet him. “Holy hell, Max, what happened to you?” I had looked over expecting to see the dweeby body of my best friend since second grade, but what greeted me was something totally different. It was still the childlike face of Max – with the pouty lips and sultry dark eyes, but the body now looked like he had been through the same body enhancement program as Captain America. My best friend was wearing a gray, threadbare, Matrix t-shirt that hugged new contours and bulges that had not been there nine months ago. It was like someone had supersized Max. “The Freshman Forty,” he replied, smiling. “I wondered if you’d notice.” “Notice! How could I not? Damn, man . . . most freshmen just gain a lot around the gut from being lazy and drinking a lot. You look like you’re the Hulk but you’re only angry enough to bulge into some kind of young bodybuilder. Wait! Did you say Freshman Forty? Are you telling me you’ve gained forty pounds in just nine months,” I exclaimed, unable to process what he had said. “Yep, actually forty-two pounds of hard-earned, college boy muscle, dude. I kind of went crazy at the gym at school. I went down on a whim one day and found out that I really liked the way hitting the weights and machines made me feel. I loved the pump, dude. And soon, my clothes started getting really tight and that just made me more of a wild man than I already was. Then, people started to comment about how swole I was getting . . . and people even asked to feel my arms and stuff. I found out quickly that being groped by some adoring fan was boner heaven for me. From that moment on, all I could think about was getting bigger, man. I started doing an early morning workout and an early evening workout. And then this guy introduced me to protein shakes and that’s when the growth really took off. Fuck dude, I just gotta show you all the improvements,” Max said, as he pulled off his t-shirt in one quick move. I gasped out loud and fell back onto the sofa . . . like someone had just shoved me really hard. My dweeby friend, Max, from down the road now had pecs that ballooned out hard, beefy, and muscular. He had abs that could be seen and counted! It was like his stomach had turned into a brick wall. And his fucking arms were all veiny and huge – making him look like he could lift me and the sofa without any problem. I suddenly realized I was harder than shit in my jeans and my face shot red with embarrassment. “You’re like a young Arnold Schwarzenegger, dude! You know . . . before he moved to the States, when he was still just hanging out in the Alps. You’re fucking huge, Max!” I said, unable to control myself – I was completely in awe of my friend. “Oh, hell yeah, dude. I knew you’d be into it. I’ve been thinking about how it would be when I finally got to show you my new size. And I’m fucking still growing, man. Two pounds of muscle in the last week and a half. I’m going to get these arms up to twenty inches before the summer’s out!” Max said, tensing his entire body as he spoke and then he threw his right arm up into a flex. “Look at that, man. It’s already eighteen and a half.” My mouth dropped open wide as I let out a uncontrollable moan. I could feel myself leaking a little from the sight of his jacked up, humongous biceps. It was magnificent. Max was staring at it, too, and I could tell he was into that mound of peaked muscle as much as I was. I glanced down and saw the outline of a thick, huge, hard beef-stick pressing against his pants. My best friend was getting off on his own arm and I didn’t think there could be anything hotter in the entire world. “Being fucking jacked, man, makes me so horny all the time. I’m busting out three or four loads a day, just from flexing or staring at myself in the mirror. I sometimes cum when I’m lifting . . . the weights rattling as I shake from the explosion. But I keep pushing the weight into the air, man, I don’t stop. Ejaculations seem to fuel my workouts and I grow even more during those sessions. The school’s wrestling coach keeps begging me to join the team, but I keep telling him no. I’m not interested in competing, dude. I just want to keep growing. It’s like I can’t get enough muscle . . . ever. I just want to be fucking huge,” Max bellowed, as he flexed his arm even harder, making the peak swell up higher. “Your body’s so fucking hot, Max,” I said through heavy breaths. Max dropped his arm and looked down at me. He looked like some living Greek statue standing there, all pumped and huge. He didn’t say a word. He just stared at me, as if he were processing something. He made his pecs roll up and down, watching my gaze following them the entire time. It was like he was teasing me or giving me some kind of test. He then crunched his abs, hard, and watched as my eyes got wider. He reached down and undid the button on his jeans and pulled them open a little. “Protein shakes seem to have enhanced other parts of me, too, dude,” he said, his voice dripping in sexiness. “I noticed,” I replied, licking my lips to let him know of my approval. “Come punch my stomach, dude,” Max ordered. “What?” I asked, not sure if I heard right. “I haven’t just gotten big, man. I’ve gotten powerful, too. I’ve got the strength to match the muscles. Punch me. I love hearing a guy’s fist smack up against my tight abs,” Max replied. “Something tells me you’ll like it, too.” I could feel the wetness at my crotch – copious amounts of pre were flowing in response to Max’s jacked body . . . and his cocky attitude. I remembered when he was a scrawny kid wearing Spiderman briefs when he came for sleepovers. Now, he was packed with more muscles than Peter Parker. He squared his newly broad shoulders as he turned his body completely towards me. It seemed like the temperature in the basement had gone up about twenty degrees since Max had taken off his shirt. I was sure his thick body could produce that kind of heat. My best friend had clearly gotten tired of waiting for me to move. He stepped over to the sofa, bent down, grabbed the front my shirt and easily pulled me up to a standing position. He then let go and stepped back, again. “Punch hard, dude,” Max said. “You can’t do any damage. Watch your fingers, though. We don’t want you getting hurt.” “This is like a dream, bro,” I said, softly. “Does this feel like a dream,” Max said, grabbing my hand and placing it against the hot, hard flesh of his cement-like, bubbled abs. “Oh fuck . . . it’s like a concrete wall,” I said, without thinking – I was just responding to his chiseled body and the quickly jerked my hand back in shock. “Oh, bro, that so fucking turns me on . . . you saying that. I sometimes crank out five hundred sit ups, just to make my abs poke out super hard even while they’re in pain. Watch this, man.” Max balled his hand into a fist and then swung it out and slammed it back into stomach, quickly. It all happened so fast, I wasn’t prepared for it. The loud smack caused by his abs absorbing the punch made me jump. Max did it three more times – his fist flying as fast as lighting. Each loud smack echoed against the basement walls. His tight stomach had red marks all over it, but those abs were clearly hard-as-hell and he hadn’t felt a thing. There was a half-grin across Max’s face. He had noticed me jumping every time his fist hit his stomach. He had clearly liked my reaction. “Your turn. Don’t you want to see what kind of abuse my muscles can take, dude? Don’t you want to feel my abs stand up to you hitting me with all your might? Don’t you want to experience my power?” Max asked, knowing his words were making my balls ache. My mouth went dry. I felt a little light-headed, and my cock hurt like hell from needing to spew, but I wasn’t ready to explode. I knew Max wanted me to wait, too. He was putting on a show I’d never forget and I was enjoying the ride. I calmed myself, spread my legs into a wider stance for stability, balled my fingers into a fist, drew my arm back, and then let it fly into his stomach with all my might. My wrist kind of compacted in on itself and sent a jarring pain up my arm as my knuckles made contact with Max’s unyielding, brick wall of a stomach. The sound of my fist hitting his abs was even louder than his punches had been. I couldn’t believe how easily my powerful punch had been stopped. I immediately had to shake out my hand and arm to ease some of the pain. Max’s grin got bigger. “Freaking powerful punch, dude, but I didn’t feel a thing. Damn, watching your fist fly into my stomach and it not really registering at all gets me so fucking worked up, dude. And it makes me feel so incredibly jacked! Sorry about your hand, dude. It’s going to hurt for a while, I’m sure. Go ahead, take another feel of my rock-hard abs, dude. I know you want to,” Max said, smiling at me. I didn’t even need to think about it. I reached out with both hands – even the one still in major pain – and started feeling the guy’s mid-section like my life depended on it. It felt like he had lead pipes pushing out from under his skin – hard rows of muscle expanding with each breath. It didn’t feel human – the steel-plated belly of this soon-to-be twenty-one year old who used to complain that he could never beat me in an arm wrestling match. Now he was taking full-on power punches from me like they were nothing more than whacks from feather pillows. My hands were shaking with excitement. “Get ready, dude, I’m going to make it even harder. I’m going to blow your mind,” Max said, and then he bent his arms, leaning forward, and crunching his stomach intensely. “Fuck man! Your abs feel like steel,” I exclaimed – letting my fingers ripple down the firm, bulging ridges. “I’m going to have an eight-pack before we go back to college, dude. I’m going to need you to pound on these things once or twice a day this summer, just to keep me motivated. Don’t worry, we’ll get you some boxing gloves. We’ve got to protect those delicate hands of yours. Fuck, look at those abs, man, Hot as hell, right?” Max said through gritted teeth, still crunching with all his might. “I just got to keep getting bigger. It’s like the only thing that matters is size, dude . . . and definition. Check out my arms, man.” Max raised his vein-covered, huge biceps beside his head and slowly brought his tightened fists inward, causing his arms to explode upward with what could only be described as muscleboy power. I stopped all motion with my hands and just stared from one jacked arm to the other. My best friend watched my face and smiled as I basically lost all functionality by the shock of seeing what used to be skinny twigs now having become giant, split, muscle peaks that screamed of strength and the kind of manhood that made people gasp. “You’re a fucking muscle god, Max,” I said, almost in a whisper – my awe could not be hidden. “I’m so glad to find out you’re into all this muscle, too, dude,” Max said, looking at his own flexed arms. “Do some pull-ups using my arms, man. Watch how my flexed guns can hold all of your weight. I just love showing off my strength for you.” Again, I did not need to be told twice. My body trembled with pleasure as I moved close enough to Max to feel the heat radiating from his tensed body. Our hard, bulging crotches banged into each other and we both let out soft moans of pleasure. I reached up and latched my hands onto thick, stone-like, flexed muscle-mountains. I let my body press against his upper torso – noticing how it felt like I was pushing against a slab of concrete. I bent my legs, bringing my heels up, and my crotch twitched dangerously close to explosion when Max’s arms didn’t dip even slightly and he accepted the weight of my entire body like it was nothing. “Fuck, dude, it’s so hot that my arms can hold all of you with no problem. You gotta crank out some pull-ups, man, as I walk around. Fucking feel the power,” Max said, sending me into new muscle lust territory. Beads of sweat were dripping from the end of Max’s nose and I suddenly realized we were both breathing hard and grunting like animals in the wild. I pulled my body upward, slowly, loving how my throbbing cock rubbed against his crotch and hard abs – feeling unbelievable even through my jeans. Max started taking a few steps around the basement as I pulled myself upward and then slowly let my body slide back down his now slippery, sweaty body. Max started growling loudly as he kept his arms locked in their flexed position, not giving in even a fraction of an inch because of my weight. I pulled myself up again, letting my lips brush quickly against Max’s jutting right nipple, which sent intense shivers up and down his pumped body. Three pull-ups were the max my small arms could crank out, so I had to let my feet fall back down to the floor – wiped out from the exertion, but not too tired to stop myself from groping Max’s sweaty, hard, flexed arms with lust-filled enthusiasm. “So fucking hot, dude! My arms barely felt your weight . . . your entire body! Oh damn, that has gotten me so jacked. I’m about to burst from the power I’m feeling. Three cool pull-ups, by the way, dude, but now let me show you what my big arms can do,” Max said, still flexing. “Grab hold of my body and hold on tight. I want to give you a little ride.” I obeyed my new muscle master – not because I was scared of him, but mostly because the idea of hanging onto his sweat covered, hard, bulging body excited me beyond belief. Max’s arms were still raised, so I wrapped my arms around his upper body, barely able to make my fingers meet since he had packed on so much muscle. My face was smashed up against the ridge between his mammoth pecs and I inhaled his muscled musk. I then wrapped my legs around his newly thicker-than-shit thighs, thankful that his jeans helped me to have some traction to stay in place. Even with my extra weight attached to his body, Max easily bent his legs and jumped up the few feet to grab hold of the metal beam that stretched across the basement. In the past, we normally had to get chairs to reach the beam for pull-ups, but Max had no problem taking us both up to the thick piece of anchoring metal. “Bro, you sure you put on that Freshman Fifteen up at college? Because you seem as light as a feather. You hefted yourself up on my arms for what . . . three pulls, right? Pretty impressive, dude, but let me show you what these monstrous arms of mine can do. Let’s bust out fifty lifts to pump up my guns into something special for you. Let’s show you just how jacked I can get these muscles. I think it’s going to get us both even more jacked below the waist, as well – if you know what I mean. I can’t wait to show you my protein enhanced rod, dude. I’m thinking you’re going to enjoy it as much as you like my muscles,” Max said, starting to quickly and expertly lift both of our bodies up to the beam. I watched his guns – loving how the veins started popping out thicker . . . harder . . . and loving, even more, how his already bulging biceps grew bigger, thicker, and more gorgeous with each lift. I squeezed Max’s body with my arms and legs even more tightly – knowing, instinctively, that his hard body probably didn’t feel it. I could, however, feel his now man-sized cock throbbing noticeably through his jeans. The dude definitely enjoyed his own strength and loved watching his arms swell up as much as I did. I lost count around his twenty-first lift, mostly because of my amazement at how effortlessly he could pull his weight and mine up to the beam. “Holy fuck, look at my body, dude. I’m blowing up huge. It’s like I’m going to pop soon. Your buddy, Max, isn’t going to stop any time soon, dude. I’m going to become a muscle mountain. Forty pounds of muscle in nine months! Just imagine what I can turn into in nine years. You won’t be able to wrap your arms around my body soon, man. I want to be so colossal I have to turn sideways to walk through doorways. I want to fill up elevators with my freaky muscles so other people won’t fit in. I want to have to sit on only reinforced furniture. I want to blow your mind, dude,” Max said as he continued to easily crank out lifts – obviously lost in self muscle lust. “You already have,” I said looking up at his now mammoth, red, sweat-covered peaks that now made my own arms look like toothpicks. “Fucking hell, I feel like I could shove over a mountain,” Max said, dropping his body back down to the floor with a heavy thud when he landed – causing me to slightly slide down his sweat-dripping body. “I swear I even forgot you were attached to me, dude.” Max walked around the room with me latched on to him, like I was nothing more than an apron or something. He then stopped and wrapped his arms around my torso, squeezing so tightly that I was forced to let my legs come undone and drop. The big guy chuckled as he looked down and watched my eyes bug out as he applied more pressure to his bear hug. He knew I was loving it, though. He could feel my crotch twitching for joy up against his. I couldn’t help but again notice the size of his giant boner as it pressed into me. It seemed that everything about Max had been supersized. I was in muscle heaven. He lessened his grip and let my feet touch the ground again. He kept his arms around me, though, and grinded his crotch slowly into mine. He smiled and I could tell he was about to take our reunion to a new place. “I’m still a fucking virgin, dude. I couldn’t think about anyone’s hot mouth around my hard cock except for yours. How about it? You want to suck me off while I flex all these big muscles for you, man?” Max asked. “I’ve learned that if I flex while I cum, my body’s growth is magnified. This could be the beginning of you turning me into a freak, dude. Care for a suck?” “Gladly,” I said, softly, feeling his humongous arms. “I can think of nothing that would bring me more pleasure.” My words caused even more sudden growth to the python he now sported in his pants. I was mistaken to think he was already fully hard, because he thickened even more and the thing snaked out longer. Max allowed me to pull back so I could look down at his open fly. I sucked in loudly, as soon as I saw a thick, monstrous mushroom head poking up beyond his pants. Of course, muscular, confident Max would choose to not bother with underwear. His cockhead continued to move upward – proving that he still hadn’t become fully engorged. Max reached down and pushed his jeans down past his balls and then stopped. I quickly realized it was going to take too much effort to get the tight pants beyond his muscular thighs and neither of us wanted to wait that long. I took a long, open-mouthed gaze at a cock that surely would have been perfect for porno films. This was no young man’s dick – my best friend from elementary school had clearly grown into his manhood during his freshman year of college. Balls, matching the size of what you’d find on a billiards table, hung low and looked magnificent framed by two ripped, muscular quads. Thicker than my wrist and clearly much longer than my ass chute, Max’s cock stuck straight out and was crowned by a blood pumping, dense vein – just like the one on both his biceps. It’s base was also surrounded by a forest of dark, curly fur. The head was plump, clearly a mouthful and then some. I looked up at my friend and he smiled at the shock on my face. “Didn’t fucking expect that, did you, buddy?” Max teased. “I swear the thing grew just to keep up with my muscles. Every time I weighed myself, I was pretty sure half my gains were because of my cock and balls. No one at college comes close to matching my size and, trust me, I see a lot of schlongs in the showers at school. Bet you never thought I’d grow such a manly tool when we were kids, did you? This giant thing is so ready for a test drive, buddy. You’re going to make me the happiest muscleboy in the world.” “If I don’t choke to death first!” I said, quickly – making him laugh. “We can take it nice and slow, bro. That would be best for me, anyway,” Max said. “My body is so jacked right now I think I’m going to explode the second your lips meet my dick.” “You’re so fucking huge, Max. I think you’ve grown some since you got here,” I replied. “Wouldn’t doubt it . . . I’m so tensed I feel like I’ve just come off a three-hour lifting session. Just think about when I’ll be five times bigger than you, dude . . . and even ten times bigger. I bet my cock keeps growing just like the rest of me. I hope so, at least. Fucking hell, I know that throat of yours is going to give me orgasmic pleasure like I’ve never known. Don’t worry, dude, I’ll open you up, slowly,” Max said, stepping towards me and placing his hands on my shoulders. Max pushed lightly and I resisted on purpose. This caused him to look me in the eyes and, instantly, he knew what I was doing. He pushed harder – his biceps getting bigger from the exertion. My legs wobbled but I stayed firm, making Max’s face slowly move into an ‘eat shit’ grin. My best friend inhaled, deeply, making his chest puff out like he was some giant wrestler taking on two opponents at once. He took his right hand away from my shoulder and flexed his biceps in the space between us. He then squeezed my shoulder with his left hand – hard enough to make me squeal – and pushed down with what seemed like the weight of the world. My knees buckled, immediately. Max didn’t let me hit the floor hard, he was in total control. His left hand guided me gently to my knees and then he let go. He raised his left arm into a flexed biceps pose, too. Max then turned his waist, slightly, making his giant manhood slap against my cheek. There wasn’t pain, for the thing hit me lightly, but there was a lot of instant pleasure. It felt like a full two-liter bottle of soda was tapping the side of my face. I reached up and grabbed a handful of Max’s balls, realizing, instantly, that my hand was too small to hold them both, completely. I squeezed and two things happened. First, Max let out a deep moan that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up with excitement. And then a big blob of thick cum gurgled up from the slit of his large dickhead. It was like I had found the fountain of youth. I leaned in and let my tongue swipe that chalky man-honey straight from the source. It tasted intensely masculine, salty, pure, and like it could provide all the basic nutrients I would ever need. I licked my lips and then opened my mouth wide, taking all of Max’s fist-sized head into my mouth at one time. The dude’s already tense body, shot even more rigid “Fucking hell!” he yelled as he quickly forced himself to recover, keeping his arms flexed the entire time. “I’m not going to last long, buddy. I’m so sorry. I’m just too fucking stoked to finally be plowing your throat. Imagine how quickly I’m going to explode when it’s your ass I’m stuffing with this big thing.” That thought made me clamp my ass cheeks together. I had definitely never ridden something as huge as Max’s cock and I wasn’t even sure I was ready for that. In the meantime, however, I opened my throat as much as I could and Max could tell that was an invitation for him to start slowly shoving his battering ram into me. As promised, Max took his time. His heavy breathing told me it was for him just as much as it was for me. He wanted this to last, but he knew his body was already teetering on the precipice of complete, abandoned release. Tears welled in my eyes as that huge cockhead plowed slowly down my throat. I regulated my breathing and allowed my mouth to relax as much as I could. Looking up at Max’s bulging arms took my mind away from any pain and soon, the big guy was moving his crotch back and forth into my face, my throat accepting all of him. Max’ breathing made it sound like he was towards the end of finishing a marathon. He kept releasing his arms and then flexing them, again – each time harder and bigger. “Aw fuck, dude, I can feel myself growing! That is one fucking hot mouth. I’m not going to last much longer,” Max said. It made me happy to know that even with his huge muscles, Max could not hold back the building tidal wave inside his big, heavy, hairy balls. Every vein on his body was thick with blood since every muscle was now super tensed. The dude’s chest looked like a road map of a street-congested city. I knew the miniature Hulk was about to explode and what an explosion it was going to be. Max’s arms were jacked into bulging mountaintops. His chest was ballooning out so much I almost couldn’t see his face from below. And the dude’s abs were popping like bulbous speedbumps stretching down his stomach. I sucked like it would be the last thing I would ever do. I wanted to give my muscled best friend a blow job to remember. I wanted to give his body the kind of workout that would instantly give him gains that would make him apeshit crazy. I wanted to cause Max to grow huge. “Ohmyfuckinggooooooood!!!” Max screamed, loudly and deeply – it was more like a bestial growl. To call it a ‘gusher’ would have been selling Max’s ejaculation short. His rod emptied into me what was clearly voluminous buckets of semen. It felt like every freaking part of my insides was going to be full of his warm, oatmeal-thick spunk. The dude’s new muscles must have made him churn out juice every single minute of the day and he seemed to have been saving it up for a very long time. I swallowed quickly and deeply, but gobs of Max milk still dribbled down my chin. The big guy was still flexing away while he continued to thrust his giant man-sausage down my throat. I looked up as he tensed his arms even stronger and squeezed his eyes tight as a few remaining thick drops of cum shot into me. It definitely felt like I had now gained the Freshmen Fifteen just from the deposit muscleboy sent streaming down my throat. Any thoughts of our little sex session having tired Max out were quickly discarded as he dropped his arms, pulled his still-rigid cock from my mouth, and then went alpha crazy. “Fucking A, that was hot-as-hell, dude! God, I feel so freaking pumped! It’s like I’m on fire or radiating intense nuclear rays or something. I already feel like I could orgasm again. Look at my freaking jacked body, bro. I’m fucking Superman! There’s only one way to show you my gratitude for that blow job, man,” Max said, reaching down to shove his pants to the floor and step out of them. The big guy then bent down, grabbed me under my arms and lifted me to my feet – and it seemed like he used about as much effort to do it as I would have to lift a t-shirt. Max then stuck his hands down the front of my jeans and with one giant pull he ripped the button off, sending it flying and tore the zipper open. He then pushed my jeans down, so my hard cock popped straight up against my stomach. Max let out a loud whistle of appreciation as he gazed on my stiffness. Compared to his, my dick was nothing to get excited about, but I could hold my own with most guys. There was no need for muscleboy to get down on his knees for what he wanted to do. He had other ideas. Max grabbed me at the waist and picked me up. I soared up into the air – Freshmen Fifteen and all – with it taking no effort at all for the big arms holding me. Max maneuvered my body like I might as well have been a blow up doll or something lighter. The dude’s gorgeous mouth sucked in my hardness in one swift gulp and then he immediately started push-pulling my body into his throat. I was already so wound up by his body, his monstrous orgasm, and just his cocky alpha-ness that I spewed on his third powerful suck. I didn’t produce the tsunami-sized wave of cum that Max had, but I emptied what was definitely a thick load for me into the excited mouth below me. Max continued to hold me in the air and walked around the room as he lapped up every drop of juice my balls could produce. When he was sure I was totally empty, he tossed my body down onto one of the sofas and then immediately started flexing again. He began with a most muscular pose accompanied by a loud growl – actually catching me off guard and scaring me a little. “I’m fucking power, man!” he yelled, his face turning red from the exertion of the pose. “I feel fucking invincible. Dude, look at me! I am so fucking jacked! I can feel myself growing right now!” Max took his balled up right hand and pounded hard on his pecs about ten times. He then did the same against his abs with his left hand. Both arms were then thrust up into a double biceps pose as the guy let out an even louder growl. My spent cock shot instantly hard again when I took in his flexed arms. Then, in a flash, he had dropped his arms and he was smashed up against my body – pressing me into the back of the couch with enough force to break it. Max grinded his huge hard cock against mine as he brought his lips up to my mouth and his tongue rammed its way in. It was the most savage kiss I had ever received and I was shocked by how much it turned me on. I could feel my empty balls somehow producing some pre-cum that leaked out. Max’s hard muscled body compacted me into the sofa with so much power I had a feeling I was going to be a few inches thinner by the time he was done. I knew if he continued to thrust his huge cock into mine for much longer, I was going to spew again. And I wasn’t sure there was anything left in my body to release – which made me worry about having a heart attack from the intense empty explosion. Max, even as excited as he was, must have figured out how my much smaller body could not take the same kind of physical abuse as his. My muscles hadn’t been enhanced by nine months of lifting heavy weights. He knew his new muscleboy status meant he had to take it easier with us mere mortals. Max pressed his mouth into mine really hard for a few seconds, then he pulled his face away and rolled onto the sofa beside me. “I just knew you’d be into muscle,” Max said, his huge chest heaving up and down, beautifully. “I’m not usually,” I replied. “I’m into yours, though, Max. Cause I’ve always been into you.” He looked at me – really looked into my eyes and smiled. Suddenly, it dawned on me that he had been into me, as well. I smiled back at him, reaching over to grab the biceps nearest me and run my hand all over it. He looked down and watched me appreciate him. He then, suddenly, got up from the sofa, found his pants, and fished something out of the back pocket. He then came back and sat beside me, this time close enough that we were touching. He tossed some folded up papers on my stomach. “I brought you something,” he said. “What are these?” I asked. “An application to transfer classes already taken to my college. I figured we could get an apartment off campus and you could help me grow, while I walk around nude all the time and let you grope me anytime you like. That is, if you think you can handle it, bro,” Max said, leaning over to kiss my shoulder. “Well,” I said, “that all depends on how you answer this one question, muscleboy.” “Yeah,” Max replied, “What’s that?” “How big do you want to get?” I asked, looking deep into his eyes. “As big as I can,” he answered without any hesitation. “Right answer,” I said. “I’ll submit the transfer papers, tomorrow.”
  4. There's been a big slowdown in new content so I thought I'd try to inject some activity. This story will contain similar themes from my other stories, but it will be a lot more lighthearted, I believe. Hopefully you'll find some enjoyment out of it as well. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ My Roommate Rivals CHAPTER ONE: “So, Rory, are you gonna live on your own now? Enjoy the bachelor life a little?” Amy questions me as I help her box up her things. Amy is my roommate, my soon to be former roommate to be exact, and also great friend from college. “I don’t think so, I’ll probably get another roommate. Maybe even two. I’m only 24 so that extra income really helps with the mortgage.” “I would guess, I still can’t believe you were able to get a house like this.” “Yeah, perk of living in the Midwest and buying in a down market. Big houses that are cheap. You’re not going to get that out in Denver.” “Oh trust me, I know,” Amy rolls her eyes in exasperation. “I’ll have to get used to a 400 sq ft apartment. You got it lucky here.” I purchased my home a little under three years ago when I was just out of college. I like my city and knew I had a very safe position in my job even back then, so I bit the bullet and bought my first home. Certainly no mansion, but as Amy mentioned it had a lot of space for a starter home. Two bedrooms and 1-1/2 baths upstairs with a fully finished walkout basement with two more bedrooms and another full bath downstairs. A little of 2500 square feet, no too shabby, even though half of that is a basement. That being said, purchasing a house so young I knew I some assistance with the mortgage would be needed. So since I bought my house I’ve had a handful of roommates over the years and it had worked out great. The house was perfect to rent rooms out with the walkout. It gave me my privacy upstairs when I wanted it and it’s hard to argue with the extra income. Plus, I was still young and more than happy to stay connected as much as I could to my college friends, many of whom were still undergrads. With a big open backyard as well, my home made for a good place to have the occasional shindig as well. Amy offers a lead as I carry some boxes upstairs, “Well if you don’t have anyone lined up yet, my cousin just graduated and is looking for a place. He’s a business major, works for the air conditioner manufacturing plant across town.” “Oh yeah? That’s cool. I already put out a feeler among my buddies on Facebook. I’d much prefer to find roommates from friends like you rather than sift through the weirdos on Craigslist and such. Then if he sucks I can blame you." Amy giggles as we load the boxes into her car. “He’s cool. He’s a frat boy, Theta Chi.” I give her skeptical look. “I know, I know! But he’s alright. Yeah, a little bit of a tool but all fratties are. If he gives you shit let me know and I’ll kick his ass.” We share a laugh and Amy tells me she’ll get me in touch with him. “Sweet, I’ll let Grif know.” “Grif? Really?” “Shut up!” Amy then gives me a devious look, “Plus Rory, regardless of their personalities, don’t act like you haven’t told me that you think frat guys are hot.” I smirk back at her, “Ok, you sold me. As long as he wears a polo. If he’s ok living with a gay dude then I could give it a try." - Seven days later I’m sitting at a BWW’s reading a menu when I see a hand reach out to me in my peripheral vision. I look up and see a stunning young man smiling down to me. “Are you Rory?” I nod. “Hey bro, I’m Griffin, nice to meet you.” I shake his hand and my eyes trace up the defined forearm, past his elbow to nicely pumped biceps which are encased in snug sleeves. I take in his torso…oh yeah, he’s even rocking a polo. I laugh inwardly wondering if Amy told him to do so to make a good impression on me. Either way it’s working. I can make just out his pecs through the polo and note how his waist is still hiding in the loose fabric, indicating its tightness. He has very broad and round shoulders, perhaps he was a swimmer back in high school. Standing there I judge him to be about 5’10 with a nicely gym built body. Far from huge, but he definitely uses the weight room on a regular basis. I look up to his face. Oh yeah, typical frat boy, but I can’t deny I’m temporarily smitten. Strong jaw, full lips, Roman nose. His face is a perfect combination of masculinity mixed with a still maturing, yet boyish face. On top of his head is neatly styled dirty blond hair contrasting his bright blue eyes. My stomach flutters as I attempt to regain my voice. “Hi Griffin. Have a seat, I already ordered a beer, the waitress should be back soon. You like wings?” “Hell yeah man, who doesn’t! The hotter the better.” We chat and I do my best to get a feel for the guy. The waitress comes by and takes our order and Griffin orders himself a beer as well. “So I guess that means you’re 21?” I ask. “Yep, just turned two months ago.” “Are you a big drinker, Griffin?” “Call me Grif, bro. I’m not a huge drinker, but I like to party, yeah.” Grif chuckles, sensing my apprehension. “But I promise I’m not one of those alcoholic frat boys. I like to party, but I keep it reasonable. Only the weekends. Plus, too much booze is bad for the abs.” Griffin smiles, leans back and pats his stomach. The fibers of his tanned forearms undulate as he does. Inside I’m wishing he would pull up the shirt and give me a glimpse. As we chat more I quickly catch on that he has the frat boy charm. He’s a guy who is used to getting what he wants, but it also becomes clear he’s worked for what he has too. He came to college with minimal scholarships and worked part time for most his undergrad. I can respect that. He lets me know he’s got a typical 8-5 job so our work schedules would be the same. We are both into watching sports even though I’m not nearly as athletic as him. It seems like a good fit, and I trust Amy’s judgement. “Well, Grif, I think this could work out if you still want to rent out my room?” “Sweet, dude! Yeah man, if those rates you told Amy are still good then I’m in for sure. Amy told me about the basement and I trust her. Sounds like you got a great setup.” “Great! Oh…um…I don’t know if Amy mentioned this, but-” Grif cuts me off “You’re gay right, bro? Amy already told me.” “Um…yeah. Is that a problem?” Grif smiles and takes a drink of his beer. “Fuck no, dude. Some of my favorite guys from Theta Chi were gay. Is it gonna be a problem that I’m a breeder?” I laugh out loud and Grif raises his glass to mine and we cheers. - It’s just three days later when Grif starts moving in. He has a couple of his frat bros helping him and I’m swooning at all the hot young men in my home. They are all boisterous and playful but I can tell they are good dudes. And their muscle definitely comes in handy and not just for my eyes and spank-bank. All the bros are wearing cutoff shirts exposing their rock arms and giving me glimpses of pecs. Their strong bodies easily handle the big items. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to help Grif move in his dresser, the thing was massive. Luckily I got to stand by and hold the door open as these jacked frat boys move Grif’s stuff in. Grif and his bros are impressed with my house as well, which I take pride in. I can tell Grif is excited, “Damn dude, Amy didn’t do this basement justice. This living room down here is HUGE! And you even got a bar down here? With fridge and microwave? This is awesome!” Grif throws his meaty arm around my shoulder, “Whenever you bring over a hot stud I got all I need to stay down here and let you have at him!” I laugh and reciprocate, “Yeah Grif. And if you have a chick down here you got all you need.” “Not ‘IF’, Rory-boy. WHEN!” Grif squeezes my shoulder and pats me on the back. I reward the guys with pizza and beer which only cements my endearment to Grif’s buddies. They ask if I ever host parties and I tell them occasionally. “But you guys can certainly come over anytime you want to hang with Grif.” Grif smiles and adds, “And to hang with you too, buddy!” Late that night after Griffin’s friends have left I leave him alone to get settled in. As he does I notice a new message on my phone from my mother. [Hi Rory. My coworker Wendy has a son who is looking for a room. He’s in his last year at the University. He was always a good kid in high school. Here is his Facebook page if you’re interested. Love you!] [Thanks mom. Give me a few days to think about it. New guy seems cool. I prefer one roommate but let me think it over. Love ya too.] The next day the decision becomes easier. I find out that all annual merit raises as work have been frozen since business is down. I grumble but I suppose I should be thankful that I wasn’t one of the 15% who were laid off last month. All of sudden the income of another roommate is very enticing so I let my mother know I’ll set something up. I bring it up with Grif too. “That’s up to you, Rory-boy. I’m good with another roommate if you are. I lived in a frat house with 40 other guys, just 2 other roommates is a huge improvement. Just please don’t bring in a weirdo.” “I won’t Grif. He’s a bartender, I’m meeting up with him tonight.” “A bartender, huh? Well that’s a good sign. Plus if he can get me free or reduced drinks at his bar then I’m in for sure!” I’ve arranged to meet up with the new prospect at his bar. He works most nights so this was the only way I could see him during my normal hours. Being a college town and with it still being summer, the bar shouldn't be too busy so he assures me via text that he’ll be able to talk. I ask the woman behind the counter, “Excuse me, is Osbourne here?” She looks at me before shouting down the bar, “Oz! Someone’s here for you!” A man comes from behind the wall of booze wiping his hands on a towel and approaches me. His is a fine specimen of man I must say. He is long and lean with dark complexion that goes perfectly with his short black hair. He either has some Mediterranean genes or he has spent a considerable amount of time tanning this summer. I take in his dark piercing eyes, he is one of those guys who looks like they are wearing eyeliner. He’s a got a couple small tattoos on his forearms which look like black flames but I don’t look too closely. His has a very tight and lithe body, sort of like a male runway model. I can tell he has some power in his taut muscles, he gives me the impression of a compressed spring. A man with a lot more power than he looks. I peg him at about 5’11, maybe 170 lbs. He’s wearing a snug black shirt which gives an impression of the firm muscles underneath. The dark jeans he’s wearing show off a surprising ample ass, which no doubt gets worked a lot, either in the gym or with the women he picks up. All in all, the guy is smoldering. The type of guys that gives ‘dark and mysterious’ its appeal. He smiles at me, “Hey man, are you Rory? I’m Oz. What can I get you, it’s on the house.” “Top shelf it is!” I joke and he grins. “Kidding, any hefeweizen will do.” “Got just the thing for ya, man.” Like any good bartender he is charming and engaging. He makes me feel like he genuinely interesting getting to know me, even if he isn’t. I certainly want to get to know him better, especially sans clothes, but I keep this to myself. “Just got a few classes left before I can graduate with my business degree,” he lets me know. “This bartending job pays pretty well so I’m not in a huge hurry to get my degree, honestly. So instead of one tough final semester I’m going to stretch what I have left over two semesters and graduate next Spring.” “Smart man. So I already have one roommate, is that cool?” “If it’s not a problem with him its not a problem with me. I just gotta get out of my current place. I currently live with four other dudes. Five guys in one big house is way too many. The place is a pigsty and I’m a very clean person.” “I like hearing that, Oz. So you’ll still be bartending for the next year then?” “At least. I’d be a great roommate. We wouldn’t even really cross paths too often. I work afternoons and nights until closing and my normal days off are Sunday and Monday. So most of the time I won’t see you. We wouldn’t be in each others way too much.” This revelation gives me conflicting feelings, I love the idea that the second roommate will almost be invisible…yet at the same time I WANT to see as much of this gorgeous man as I could. “One last thing, Oz. I don’t know if your mom told you, but I’m gay, I hope that’s alright.” Oz chuckles as he smiles at me. “She didn’t tell me but honestly I pegged you as gay right away.” “You did? How!?” Oz smirks at me, “Because I’m hot, dude. And Erica, the girl who called me over. She’s smokin’ hot too, but you were only looking at me.” I hide my face, embarrassed and Oz laughs. “No worries man. It wasn’t obvious. It’s a skill I’ve picked up being a bartender. And to answer your question, I don’t care at all that you’re gay. Love is love, man. Here, have another free beer since I embarrassed ya.” He sets a new bottle down on the bar in front of me and gives me a smoldering wink. - The following weekend Oz pulls into my driveway on Saturday morning with the back of his pickup full of of his belongings. I welcome him inside where Grif and I have been eating breakfast. Grif and Oz lock eyes for the first time in my home. Grif drops his cereal spoon, rolls his eyes and moans dramatically. “Awww man, Rory? You’re letting this loser live here?” I’m taken aback by Grif’s rudeness but turn to see Osbourne smirking at Grif. “I take it you two know each other?” Oz approaches Grif and slaps him on the shoulder with a grin. “Griffin of Theta Chi! How’s it going man? Still salty about how we beat you guys for the flag football crown?” Grif huffs, “That was a lucky fuckin’ fluke play and you know it!” “We still won!” Oz grins brightly. “So you two do know each other.” “Yeah, Grif and I here were in the top two frats at the university. Our frats were big rivals. My frat, Phi Delta Theta has won the most intramural Greek trophies in the last few years. We usually beat the little Theta Chi boys here like Grif. But hey man, 2nd place is still pretty good,” Oz says patronizingly. “The Phi Delts always got the calls by the refs, some shady shit if you ask me,” Grif grumbles. “But my frat was known for having WAY better parties with MUCH hotter girls. Can’t deny that, Oz! Sorry you guys were never invited.” The two continue to banter and I watch them close. While it’s clear they are both proud members of their frats and both extremely competitive, I don’t get the sense that they hate each other. They seem to have a frenemies relationship. Regardless I decide I better make sure this is the case. “So boys, is this gonna be a problem? You two are going to start coming to blows are you? Because you guys are both a lot bigger than me, I can’t stop you.” The two laugh and Grif answers, “Naw boss, we’ll be fine. Plus, if we fought, Oz here would be in trouble since I’m clearly bigger and stronger.” Grif smirks and quickly throws up a single arm flex. A well developed biceps muscle pops up. Oz grins and turns to Grif. He stands right up to him, “Are you sure your bigger, Grif? I’ve got a couple of inches of height on you, little guy.” “Couple of inches my ass! You are maybe an inch taller, bro. I still weigh more than you, skinny.” “Barely. Well I’m still taller!” “And I’m still bigger!” - Oz takes the day to get settled in. He is wearing a sleeveless shirt as we hauls his stuff in and I enjoy his caramel skin which is stretched tight over his very lean muscles as I suspected. Oz is much more vascular and lean than I previously thought. He’s not as bulky as Grif but has that wiry look, almost like a wrestler. I catch a glimpse of his abs through he side of his very loose cutoff tank…and it’s very nice. By that evening Oz is settled into his room in the basement next to Grif’s. With a big sigh Oz joins us on the couch in the living room. “No plans tonight, Grif?” he asks. “Did you lose all your friends or what?" “No, twat. Just a low key Saturday tonight. I went out last night.” “Got it. No friends.” Oz teases and Grif chucks a pillow at his face. Later that night their intensely competitive streak comes out again as I hear screaming coming from the basement living room. I tromp down the stairs to find the two studs playing Call of Duty. “What the hell are you guys doing down here?” “Well, Oz here is fucking CHEATING, that’s what’s happening.” Oz just laughs, “Sorry, boss. Grif here just can’t handle losing to the better man. You’d think he’d better at coping by now, poor guy.” “Fuck off!” Grif slams his controller down and stomps to his room. I laugh as I watch him sulk off, “It’s not that big of a deal, Grif,” but he just huffs as he walks by. I may have underestimated the intensity of their rivalry.
  5. College Finals By BBMikeNJ My first year as assistant professor at a large Midwestern university was coming to an end. Finals were in a few weeks, and things had gone pretty well for me, despite having to teach some remedial-level English courses. I didn't mind teaching to kids who had to struggle with their studies, but the class sized tended to be so large that it was difficult to offer much personal instruction. And because of that, I was worried that some of my students weren't going to pass. One of them was a big football player named Troy. Troy always sat in the very front row of the auditorium where I taught English 101a. He was the biggest student in the class by far, a strapping presence that was hard to ignore. I tried my hardest to look over him, to avoid his big jock good looks, his blond hair and blue eyes, his ease with his own physical superiority. Not that he seemed arrogant about it at all. Every time I did happen to make eye contact with him, he'd shoot me this big brilliantly white smile. Then he would furrow his brow, as if trying his hardest to concentrate on what I was saying. Seeing him sitting there with his legs spread apart like jocks with big legs tend to do. He tended to make me lose my train of thought, especially as the weather warmed, and he started wearing gym shorts to class. His calves were nearly the size of footballs, and were absurdly vascular. One time he shifted in his seat just as my eyes scanned by his calf. I blinked in awe as it balled up into a fist of thick sinew. I had to lean against my desk for support. The other day after class, Troy approached me as I gathered my papers from the desk. "Excuse me, Doc," he said to me, "can I talk to you?" It was a warm spring day, and he was wearing a tank top and football shorts, his hulkish muscularity nearly exploding out of every opening. He walked up so close to me that I could smell his scent, musky with testosterone, but also like fresh cut hay on a fine summer day, with a gentle breeze blowing in my direction. It took everything I had not to flare my nostrils out and breathe him in as deeply as possible. Although not technically a doc yet, as I was still working on my thesis, I didn't exactly correct him. "You can call me Doug," I said, much to my annoyance, since I had promised myself not to let the students call me by my first name. At 28, I was not much older than most of them, and thought that I should maintain a certain air of distinction. So much for that. "Ok, Doc," he said, completely ignoring my request. "Do you think there's anything I could do to raise my grade a little? I gotta pass this so I can come back for football this fall." He stood so close to me that I could feel the heat coming off of him. He was about 6" taller than my 5'11, and probably 70lbs heavier than my 180. He had gotten bigger and bigger throughout the semester, so maybe more than 70. And up this close, his hair was even blonder than I'd realized. He was asking me to help him get a better grade, yet he carried no book and had never taken any notes in class. I knew he was failing, and it was unlikely that there was anything I could legitimately do to help him pass. But I heard myself say, "Come up to my office at 3 o'clock, and we'll see what we can do." "Ah, thanks Doc, I knew you'd come thru for me," he said, as he grabbed my hand and shook it. He put both his hands, big like mitts, around my hand, his fingers thick and calloused, shaking my arm earnestly, grinning at me with teeth that would make snow envy its whiteness. "I'll be there right at 3." Then he turned and walked away. As he walked up the steps of the auditorium, I stared at his big muscle ass, the kind that only football players seem to develop, thick, wide, and high, nearly bursting with power. I stood leaning against my desk for a few moments after he left. I imagined him stripping off his tank top and tossing it to me, still hot with his sweat. I saw myself burying my face in his tank and breathing in deeply as he stood in front of me shirtless, his thickly muscled torso bulging from weightlifting and football practice. I saw him raise his arms and flex them, and his big grin spreading across his face as he watched me breathe in his musk. Then I thought about 3 o'clock. I shook my head and pushed myself away from the desk. What had I gotten myself into? More to cum…
  6. muscledrain

    Dane's Ghost (Part 29 added 03/13/19)

    This story kind of took me by surprise. It has a life of its own. It's completely different from anything I've written before. It is romance-based and also a college story of first love. It is absolutely separate from anything else I've written here so if you like my previous stories thematically, just know this story has nothing in common with the rest of my work. I have almost the entire thing already written. I'm just editing now. I'm working on the last two chapters. Part 1 Northern California Not San Francisco, winter 1998 My name is Pete and this is my story about how I started to live a new life because my old one was really painful, and sometimes you have so much pain in your life, you need to walk away from it and just forget all of it ever existed. I was a freshman in college and walking through the chill night air, my breath turning to fog, when I heard Dane sobbing. He sat there in a T-shirt, on a damn cold night, sobbing and shivering. It was the strangest sight. Here was a behemoth of a man, a muscular giant of a man, the man I idolized, and he was unable to stop crying. I wanted to immediately walk over and give him my jacket, but I knew that was stupid because my jacket would never fit him. I didn’t know what to do at first. I wanted to go over and hold him, but I’m unable to do that with people. Especially big people. Big guy people that look like Dane, with their enormous melon-arms and ash blond crew cuts. His rugged, masculine, awe-inspiring face that could be in a commercial, a perfect face that I could see in a suit behind a Senator’s desk someday, or a sales company executive position, or the football uniform that he wore on the field. And he was alone. And he shouldn’t be alone. I stood there, between two dorm buildings. He was sitting on the steps to his dorm. I walked over to him, and I didn’t really plan on it. What I wanted to do was keep walking because I tend to hide from people. I run away from them. I’ve done it all my life out of necessity in order to stay alive. But I was sick of the old me. I was sick of feeling like the old me. “Dane?” He looked up at me. He wasn’t startled. He had noticed me walking across the dew-covered green. The fog was so thick you could see it obscuring the dorms at the far ends of the long rectangular quad. “Hey.” I kept my voice low. “You shouldn’t be out here with a T-shirt on. You wanna go inside? Or, if not, I can go run and get you a blanket because dude, you are gonna freeze to death.” “It’s okay.” He sniffed. “Leave me alone.” I hesitated. “I’m not supposed to do that.” That just came to me. Things happen like that with me. “Huh?” “Remember all that stuff I told you?” “Oh,” he said emptily. Something was very wrong here. “They’re telling me to bring you inside. So. Yeah.” I felt awkward but I knew he was going to get sick if he stayed outside too much longer. “I don’t want you to get sick. And you will.” “Okay.” He said quietly. He got up, as if he was unsure where he was and walked into his dorm room and I was right behind him, for some reason. I immediately asked him if he had any tea. He didn’t answer me so I opened a few cupboards and found some and got a pot of water boiling. Dane was sitting on the couch, his hands clasped, tears silently falling down his face, drying as he stared at nothing. His roommate Pat was there. Pat was a short Jewish guy, with a curly black mat of hair. Thin as a reed. Confident, though. Really confident. And mature. He was a good guy. Pat walked out cautiously from his room to check out what was happening. It was late, so he whispered even though there was no one else in their apartment because the walls between your dorm room and the next were always going to be thin. “Hey.” Pat crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, staring at me. “Was he outside like this?” “Yeah,” I whispered back. I walked past him to gently open Dane’s door. I turned on the light and found a big warm brown jacket with fleece lining, something that dwarfed me, and brought it out. He opened his arms mechanically and shrugged it on and then he leaned over sideways and said, after a while, “My father died.” And then I didn’t know what to say. Dane was the biggest, strongest man I’d ever met. He was on the football team. He was everything I wasn’t: big, strong, powerful, brave, sexy, self-assured, calm. I was shy, lonely, self-isolating, sheltered, an emotional trainwreck, only recently out, and I was more attracted to him than anyone I’d ever known. It should have been me crying in the middle of the night freezing my ass off. It threw me. This couldn’t be happening. But it was, and it was happening to this man who I avoided rather than lust after him, because I was gay but incredibly realistic about my prospects with him. And I didn’t want to do that to myself, lust after someone I couldn’t have. It hurt too much to love, to love too much, to love someone who didn’t think about you that way. But I should back up at this point, because it’s kind of important to tell you about how we met. Part 2 Beginning of fall semester, 1998 I met a lot of people when I got to uni. I wasn’t used to people. I was the only one who had brought literally everything I owned, because before that I was in foster care. What I owned filled one suitcase. I had been with a couple who were tolerant at first until they began to suspect I might be gay. The high voice, the lack of coordination and ability to play sports, the enthusiasm I showed over bodybuilding magazines that I hid under my mattress that the wife found. I tried to tell them I just was really excited about the idea of getting bigger in a gym. That didn’t work because they confronted me. They wouldn't let me leave unless I told them the truth. I hate it when people do that. Ask me to tell the truth. It’s so wrong. Then they sent me back. So that was that. I had tried to train myself not to feel anything. The thing that sucked was I liked them. I was afraid they wouldn’t like me and my worst fear had come true. That happened to me a lot. All my worst fears had already come true. But here’s the thing. When all your worst fears come true, there’s nothing left to be afraid of. Not even death. I never felt sorry for myself over any of it. And I’d been through such hell. But for whatever reason, I was alive, and I couldn’t mess up a single class or I wouldn’t graduate from college. So that occupied like 90% of my thoughts most of the time because I ran off of stress. It kept me alive. And that was the thing I was hoping would normalize me somehow, going to college. I remember thinking how I wanted to be a normal person. “So, Pete, tell me about yourself.” This was the thing my Residential Advisor Michael had said to me as he wanted to interview me for a newsletter that he was putting together. He was also new to the school and he had asked me to help him out. He was putting together a newsletter for the dorms. He was friendly and intelligent and for whatever reason he was interested in me. I had no idea why. He had come over to my shared dorm on a Friday night but there was no room in my bedroom because it was very cramped and two of my roommates were having fun in the living room talking loudly. He asked my third roommate Jay if we could use his room for the interview. Each bedroom was made for two people but his was much bigger than the one for me and Jeff. This is important because Jay was just ignoring us and working on something or other on his computer. Or looking at porn, maybe. I didn’t know but he was nice to me, so I supported him in his efforts to look at boobs and tried to join in and act like him and all my other roommates when they checked out hot women on TV. But I was flummoxed. What could I say about myself? “I don’t know what to say. Um. Hmm. I like to read a lot. I like to read science fiction and fantasy. A lot. Big epics. I’m reading Dan Simmons books right now. He’s really good.” “Why don’t you tell me about your family? Who’s in your family?” “I don’t have any family. They’re all dead.” Boy, can I kill the vibe. It never failed. My reality was a downer. I didn’t always realize that, though. I said it in a chipper way, like I was in a job interview and just trying to pretend I was really happy to be there. I had retrained my brain, you see. Act like them. Act like them and they will think you’re one of them. His face had changed so quickly. He looked at me, this handsome, middle-aged religion major with glasses and a squarish chin. Thinning, prematurely gray blond hair cut neat and short. Not like my mess of a bird’s nest of brown hair that just went in all directions. I had a tendency back then to compare myself to everyone unfavorably, in case you hadn’t guessed. “When did they die?” Cue look of concern. No need for concern. I’m fine. “Well, my father committed suicide because he was a war veteran when I was a baby and my mother died of cancer when I was 13. My grandmother, I lived with her for a while until she got dementia. She just died but I hadn’t seen her in years. She didn’t know who I was anymore. So it’s okay. So I went to live in foster care but they kick you out when you’re 18. So I emancipated myself. I’m actually 17 but I graduated high school at 16 so I could come here. So, I’m on my own!” I finished with a shrug and a smile. He adjusted his glasses and seemed lost in thought for a brief second before coming back to me. “Pete. Um. Wow. That’s really powerful.” At this point, Jay left the room silently and closed the door behind him. “Huh?” “I think, maybe, it’s a bad idea to do an article about you. I think…what I’d like to do instead is just talk to you. I think you need it.” “Oh. Sorry.” “No! Don’t be sorry. Look, you’re…incredible.” “No one thinks that. No one ever thinks that.” “Well, I think that, and I’m someone. And, I’d really appreciate it if you could tell me more.” No one had ever really been interested in me before. It was a new feeling. “I don’t know what to say. I just want to be normal. And uh. I’m the only one here who doesn’t have parents. So that’s not normal. Everyone else does have them. They all have families. It’s weird. It makes me feel…like I’m not one of them. Like they can’t relate to me and I can’t relate to them. So I just...” “Have you thought about getting counseling?” “You mean like, how to get a job?” “Nnnnno. I mean, as in psychological.” Oh God. He thinks there’s something wrong with me, I thought. I immediately felt his shock resonating through me. I felt disgust for myself. I felt his pity for me and I hated it. “Oh. I didn’t know I needed that. I just thought that if I came here I could be like everyone else.” Easy peasy. Problem solved. No trauma here, folks. I’m just fine and dandy. One day, I would be one of those happy people bouncing up and down on the beach on MTV’s Spring Break. I would meet Carson Daly and tell him I thought he was really hot. I would watch hot college guys throw water balloons at each other on stage. I would live the dream. “I think it takes a really special person to admit those things and to have survived through those things.” I was trying to look away from Michael so I couldn’t see his face. I avoided eye contact kind of a lot back then. “I’m not special. I don’t think that’s true.” Maybe in an X-Files sense. I was special but not in ways I could tell anyone about, ever. “Maybe you’re more special than you think.” You have no idea. That’s why I don’t want to be special. I don’t want to be different. You have to understand, this was 1998. Intersectional wasn’t a thing I’d ever heard of and all I wanted was to be a straight white male instead of a gay white male because it was the best possible thing I could be. So I was pretending to be one and it was going swimmingly so far. I didn’t have any problems so long as I kept my mouth shut and made everyone believe me. I was going to be normal. “I don’t know,” I said. “So, do you mind if I ask you, what was your childhood like?” Michael asked me. My mind reeled. I said the first thing that came to my mind. “It was pretty bad. I grew up homeless. I just wanted to die a lot. I was hungry a lot. I was hungry living with my stepfather, too.” Why was I telling him all this?? “You had a stepfather.” Oh goddamnit. “Yeah. But, I didn’t live with him for too much longer after my mother died. He liked to push me into things. Walls. The floor. His fist. He liked to break things. Break me. He uh. I didn’t like living with him. So I told someone. Then I went to live with my grandmother. But…she didn’t understand how old I was. And she kept thinking I was five or she would confuse me with my mother and she would just start screaming at me to give her the drugs and I would just cry and tell her I didn’t do drugs. And then she stopped eating. She told me she was going to starve herself to death so I called the cops and they came and took her away and she was just, screaming. I visited her in the home one time. She started screaming at me that I was a…she used bad words. It was bad. She kept getting me confused with other people. She didn’t like me anymore. So, I couldn’t go back. I lived with this nice couple for a while and I really wanted them to like me but in the back of my mind I knew it probably wouldn’t last. So it hurt less, I think, when they said I wasn’t good enough to live there. I mean, they didn’t say that. They said, “we think you’ll be a lot happier living somewhere else.”” “Why did they say that?” He was genuinely horrified now. I hadn’t even told him the really bad stuff. “They found some magazines. I bought.” “Porn?” “No! I would never! They had clothes on. But, they just didn’t like them. I wasn’t good enough. For them. But it’s fine.” “Pete, are you gay?” He whispered. Oh God. I started crying at that point. I felt so stupid. I put my hands over my head. Stupid, stupid, stupid! “You can’t say anything! I finally tricked everyone this time! I can be normal!” We stood up at the same time. He came over to me slowly, and hugged me, carefully. “You are. You are normal.” “I just want to be what everyone wants me to be,” I mumbled. “I’ve been so careful. And then you saw it. I should have lied. I shouldn’t have told you that. I fucked up. Fuck.” He sighed. “Okay. Would you like to take a walk? Get some coffee?” I nodded. “I think that would be a good idea." I nodded again. "Go to the bathroom and wash up. I’ll wait for you outside in the hallway.” So I did and we went over to a local café. We sat there in the student lounge café. It was pleasant. We talked a little bit. Our talk had a bit more levity to it. I’m clever when I want to be. He told me so. He wasn’t coming onto me or anything. I wondered if he was gay. He seemed like he might be but I’d never made a gay friend before. But I liked him. I liked Michael. He was nice to me. And we talked. And that’s when I saw Dane. Dane would change my life forever, by the way. Dane was huge. Bigger than life. His muscles were so big I thought I would have a heart attack. I was already so stupidly emotional that night and now here I was, lusting and drooling automatically after an enormous jock that dwarfed me and my pathetic 5’8” 145 frame. I remember Michael introduced us. I remember going into this autopilot mode. I looked up at him and he said something in his deep voice and I just wanted him to hold me but that would have been entirely inappropriate and I would have been a terrible person if I’d just reached out and grabbed those big…huge…unbelievable muscles of his. I only came up to his chest. There was just so much more of him. He had to be one of the tallest guys on campus easily. I thought he was 6'4". It would turn out he was actually 6’6” and still growing. “Hi!” I kept saying over and over again. My mind broke and I couldn’t think straight. I think I said hi like four times before Michael realized I was short circuiting and Dane was looking at me weird so Michael excused us because we were having a chat. That was my first time meeting Dane. It was the night I finally told someone I was gay. Michael was nice to me and told me where I could go to get counseling. And I did so the following Monday. I signed up dutifully. Because if I wasn’t normal I was going to get someone to make me normal. To coax me into normality. Or maybe I could just teach myself to be normal through some kind of self help book. “Your Guide to Being Normal and Not a Muscle Fetishist Lusting After Giant Jocks” On second thought, fuck that book that I just made up in my head. Part 3 I stood in front of my roommates: Jeff, Jay, and Mike S. Jeff was usually not there because he was usually off having sex with someone. Jodi and Ames where also there. Jodi was who Jeff was usually fucking and Ames lived down the hall. It was short for Amy but everyone just called her Ames. Amy kind of looked like Renee Zellwegger before she got plastic surgery, only she had this larger than life voice and laugh, like a stand up comedian. Jodi looked sort of like Monica from Friends only her black hair was shorter than Courtney Cox’s. But both of them were pretty. Jeff had long hair back then. Like, really long, running halfway down his back, and he wore a short beard. Jeff was a big hippy for the most part. Very easy going. Mike S. had big buck teeth and unkept hair. He couldn't dress for shit and was actually trying to be a stand-up comedian. Jay was the silent type. The cool, compact, guitar-playing lothario of the group. He was the best looking out of the three of them. Mike S. was not really attractive to me. He didn’t take very good care of himself and was already getting fat. But Jay had this classic look to him. Very neatly groomed, hair clipped nice and short, a smooth rich voice. On the small side, though. He was 5’7” and on the thin side but he was deeply in love with a girl that he wrong songs for, and then he would write songs when she dumped him, and then he would find a new girl to write songs for, and then he would write songs when she dumped him. It kind of went on like that all year. These were the only people in my life. I didn’t have anyone else to come out to. They were watching TV and for some reason I’d gotten up. I’d been going to counseling for a few weeks and learned that the goal wasn’t for my counselor to “fix” me like I was an old pipe. I thought it would be easy, but it turns out I actually had to do all of the work and dig deep and not pretend I was someone else because apparently that would not make me happy. “I um. I have…I have something to tell you guys. And um. Um. It’s kind of important.” Jodi grabbed the remote and muted the TV. I think she knew as soon as I was there what I was going to say. “I’m…kind of…not straight.” I’ve just been pretending to be. Sorry about that! “So, you’re gay?” “Well that is the option that’s left, so yes. Is that…um…is that…okay…with you?” “Pete, I’m bisexual,” Amy told me, matter-of-factly. “Oh,” I said, rather in shock. “I did not know that.” “Wait, WHAT?” Mike S. said. “Are you sure?” “Yeah. I’m gay. It um. It just sort of happened. You know.” “Pete,” said Jeff the hippy. “We love you. You know that, right?” “You guys owe me ten bucks each.” Jay said, coolly. “Jay! Shut UP.” Jodi told him. “I’m just kidding. I didn’t know. But we thought you might be.” “Really?” “But you know, fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly. You know what I’m sayin’?” “I think so,” I said. I kept picturing gay birds and fish fucking each other or trying to. Fish don’t really fuck. I pictured gay fish throwing their sperm at each other during mating season, swimming between the sea-grass. I pictured Don Knotts exclaiming “I don’t want to have sex with a Ladyfish!” in his obnoxious fish voice from The Incredible Mr. Limpet. I’m just letting you know, dear reader, I used to watch a lot of old movies and I didn’t have any humans to raise me so TV had to take over for that. “Do you think that birds can be gay or..” “Probably,” Jay said. “Anyway, it’s cool.” Amy got up and hugged me. I’d never really hung out with her much but she was really very sweet. “It’s fine. We love you.” “I didn’t know that. I thought…” “Does your family know?” Jodi asked. “I don’t really have a family. I was in foster care. The couple I was with sent me back, though. They didn’t order a gay and I think they got Asian takeout after me.” “Well you should have gotten higher SAT scores!” Mike S. the comedian said. “Yeah, I know.” “Don’t you have a grandmother?” Jodi asked. “I did, but she died. She kind of lost her mind. I told her once when I came to visit but she sort of yelled at me that I was a communist faggot and the Soviets had gotten to me.” Mike S. started belly laughing. “Oh my God, that is SO terrible, but you HAVE to let me use that in my routine.” “Yeah, why not?” “So I’m just curious. When we were watching MTV, and you were checking out hot girls with us, you were not actually attracted to them.” Jay said. “No, not at all.” “Are you attracted to the guys?” “Yes, very much.” “Okay, then. Well, that takes care of that.” Jay grabbed his guitar. “I have to go meet Charlene. If you want to bring a guy over, it’s cool.” “Thanks. Thank you. Thanks.” “No prob,” Jay said, and went to find a girl to sing to. “Pete? Do you want to watch TV with us?” Jeff asked. “Yeah. That’d be cool.” Jodi and Amy smiled. They had a new gay friend. “We are gonna have so much fun checking out guys together,” Jodi said. She put her hand on my knee. “Maybe eventually? It’s a little bit soon for that.” “So who do you think is hot?” Amy asked. “NOT ME, PLEASE.” Mike S. said. “Definitely not you.” I affirmed. “Hey! That’s probably for the best.” He giggled. “Yeah, no you’re like family. That would be gross.” “I also think it would be gross to have sex with you. Good. We’re on the same page here.” “Yeah, I would rather my tongue fall out than actually kiss you.” I told him. “I would literally rather be kicked in the head by a gay figure skater spinning around on an ice rink than have sex with you.” He countered. “I would literally rather stick my hands up an elephant’s asshole and clean out its shit out with a giant enema and then clean out the shit bits with a giant Q-tip than have sex with YOU.” I shot back. At this point, everyone was laughing and there was no more tension. Everyone except Jay, who was out fucking some girl named Charlene. I had never had sex before, but I had heard good things about it.
  7. ABSQRST

    Liquid Manhood- Chapter Six

    A year long wait for Part Six, sorry, school got ahead of me and when I was finally free I wasn't in any mood to write. This part is mostly filler and some plot, more transformations to come in the next part though. Thanks for reading. Read Part One HERE Read Part Two HERE Read Part Three HERE Read Part Four HERE Read Part Five HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Six Chris lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling deep in thought. The room was still dark, but dim light shone through the gaps in the curtains. The light illuminated the cause of Chris’ thinking, a large tent in Melvin’s bed sheet, and two massive feet that hung out the end of that bed. A couple of months ago Melvin had been a small runty nerd who Chris could twist around his little finger, but then Melvin took some of the magical elixir home. Now Melvin was more confident, he was questioning Chris’ decisions more and he was keeping Chris awake with hour-long fuck sessions every single day. The only benefit to being kept up so late is that Chris had the time to think over the events of the past few days. That first day when he found out what had happened to Melvin had been the hardest. Hearing that deep voice over the phone made his heart drop, but he nearly died when he found Melvin. Melvin had directed Chris to come talk to him at some apartment, his nerdy roommate opened the door in just his underwear. He was now tall, built and from the look of the bulge in his briefs, hung like a donkey. Seeing Melvin had only added fuel to the theory that the elixir had a plan of its own, that the changes it caused weren't random. That in fact it mattered on what sort of person you were, an undeserving person would end up as unappealing, but a deserving person, as Melvin appeared to be, would end up owning mouthwatering pecs with big silver dollar sized nipples, abs you could wash clothes on and a bulge that looked like it could feed a small village. The conversation between the two roommates was awkward mainly because Chris could see the four girls who lived in the apartment had been fucked senseless for what must of been several days. From where Chris sat he could see the girls in a sleeping cum stained heap on a bed in a bedroom, the doors having been pulled off its hinges, they all had smiles on their faces. A smile which matched Melvin’s smug smirk, he knew the situation between them had changed. Melvin though didn’t rub it in that he was now a towering stallion compared to Chris, which Chris had expected. Instead he talked about what had happened to him and what he’d thought was going on with the elixir. In the days following Melvin’s marathon fuck session both boys shared their theories on how the elixir affected the user. Chris’ theory that who you were mattered held more water then anything Melvin offered. It was nearly confirmed when Chris and, the now meathead, Melvin found out what happened to the people dosed by the water bottles from the school gym that Chris had tainted. The equipment manager Thaddeus Stern had ballooned into some ebony black beast of muscle and manhood, he was instantly recruited by football team to his own delight. Yuri was also dosed too, and to Chris’ delight he didn't end up huge. Instead the slim swimmer had swelled into some hairy bear. A gut of muscle and fat replacing his toned abs. Melvin didn't think the change was that bad, Yuri looked pretty intimidating, an opinion which seemed to be shared by others. Yuri had been recruited to the football team too. The third person to be dosed had surprised Chris. Coach Peters had changed and it seemed to have knocked him out of the funk that losing his football team had caused. His flabby gut had been sucked in and tightened, his hair darkened and his face lost a good 20 years of wear and tear. The man who now stomped around campus in a sweat suit with a big cigar in his mouth was nothing like the old Coach Peters. Scary was the word that Melvin had used after he'd been cornered and almost forced to join the football team by the new Peters. He was rebuilding the team and taking anyone who even looked like they lifted weights. Chris though was half attracted to the new barrel chested daddy like-coach. He would have expected that Peters to get the bad side of the elixir, but instead Peters’ love and loyalty to the boys on his team had instead made the elixir turn Peters into a better man than he already was. Chris’ reminiscing was ruined by the loud wet slapping coming from Melvin’s bed. The big lug had thrown back his blankets and was fisting his Pringles can cock with both of his meaty fists. Chris just rolled over and buried his face into his pillow hoping Melvin would only jerk off once this morning. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “Good workout today man” Thaddeus’ Barry White-like voice said Both he and Sean were standing in the locker room of the school gym, they had it to themselves as the other patrons seemed to flee the room when they both came in sweaty from their workout and stuffed into gym shorts that looked close to bursting. They'd both showered on the far side of the showers from each other, both trying to sneak in a quick wank, though it was hard to keep two massive muscle men jerking wrist fat monster cocks secret. Neither of them brought it up, even thought they’d both cum at the same time. “Yea, good lift” Sean agreed, pulling on his shirt The two muscle men were both buttoning up their shirts, both having the same issue of pulling the shirt together over their pecs. Thaddeus with his glistening ebony pec pillows and Sean with is fire-red furry slab like chest. Sean and Thaddeus had met soon after Coach Peters had recruited them both for football team and they’d become fast friends. Mainly it was due to them being forced together as they were both of similar size, but they shared an intense interest in video games, so a friendship had blossomed. A tv bolted up to the wall loudly played some sporting news show, the announcer worriedly talking about the removal of some big name athlete from the Dallas Cowboys because of some sort of disease. Sean had seen the guys face all over the internet and he’d even jerked off a fair bit to the guys modeling pics. Sean gave up on closing his shirt, his entire hairy pec cleavage on show. The button just below his pecs barely holding the shirt closed. “You coming round mine tonight to game” Sean asked pulling up the zipper of his jeans again Since his last growth spurt Sean had found a guy on Craigslist who was selling a tonne of clothes in sizes that could actually contain him, but now after a couple of months of actually working out, playing football and slowly growing he was beginning to outgrow them. Thaddeus, was himself just stuffing his overpacked undies into some jeans. He pulled the zipper up and gave his hefty bulge a good grope with a big black hand. “Nah man” Thaddeus chuckled deeply “Got a date tonight” Sean laughed “What again… did last nights go so well” Thaddeus left their gaming session last night with some cheerleader under this arm. The big black stud had been grinning ear to ear earlier when they started their workout, so it must of gone well. “Yea, yea, it did, nearly broke her bed” Thaddeus laughed, doing a little thrusting movement with his hips “But its not the same girl… her friend" “Slut” Sean laughed lightly punching Thaddeus’ shoulder Thaddeus packed up his gym bag and seemed ready to leave, obviously eager to get to this date. “Yea pretty much, I used to be some pathetic virgin” the black stud laughed “But since my growth spurt I've been getting pussy every day… even multiple pussies sometimes” Sean felt his eyes roll, Thaddeus just laughed at his reaction. The two friends said goodbye and the black beast thudded out of the locker room, leaving Sean to struggle to get his clown feet into sneakers that were falling apart because they were at least a size too small. The walk back to his dorm room was quick, but it was a constant barrage of stares as he stomped across campus. He knew his heavy bulge was bouncing from thigh to thigh with each step and his pecs were dangerously close to launching the remaining buttons of his shirt across the path ahead of him. Sean was struggling with his keys at his door, his big meaty fingers fumbling over the tiny, little pieces of metal. “Sean” a quiet voice asked Sean turned to look and just saw an empty corridor. Then he looked downwards. A nervous yet smiling brown haired boy stared up at him. It was the guy he’d brought all the old clothes from. A guy of barely 5ft2 who for some reason owned clothes ranging from XXL to XXXXL, Sean didn’t ask why. “Hey... Ben right” he asked, hoping he’d got the name right Ben nodded as Sean turned away from his door to look down at Ben. The smaller guys eyes widening as he stared at the thick overhang of Sean’s pecs. Thankfully his eyes weren’t looking down to the overstuffed bulge of his pants which was shockingly close to Ben’s eye level. They were silent for a few moments, Ben just watching as Sean’s pecs slowly heaved with each breath. Sean broke the silence “So, why are you here” He knew that Ben didn’t live in the dorm. He loved in one of big frat houses on the other side of campus. Ben muttered something, sounded like he was nervously gathering his words. “Just… just... wanted to see if you wanted to hang out” Ben asked, smiling slightly Sean wondered if Ben had actually wanted to ask something else, but the sight of Sean’s hulking hairy form had knocked all the confidence out of the little guy. Sean chuckled slightly “Sure, I was going play some games, but we can hang out” Sean opened his door, the gust of warm musky air washed over them both. Ben actually squeaked in surprise. “It's only a single-player game, but I’m sure we could find you something to do” Sean said, letting Ben pass into the room Sean followed him in, giving his big bulge a quick rearrange before closing the door and trapping the little guy. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “Do you have any books on witchcraft” Barrett asked up to the librarian Without even looking pass their glasses and down to the runty Barrett, they muttered a floor number. Barrett had gotten used to being ignored since his fall from grace. He quickly headed up the stairs, taking two at a time, which was a stretch for his short skinny legs. Luckily no one would recognize him, he wasn't the Barrett anyone on campus would recognize. A few months ago Barrett had received an email about his campuses links to magic and witchcraft, since then he’d been researching the subject. He’d read more books and written more down in these months then he’d ever done in his life. It had started as a simple way of passing the time and maybe distracting him from his diminished body and from the housekeeper's son cleaning the swimming pool shirtless, but it had become a desperate passion once AJ returned home. The doctors had said that AJ had a muscle wasting disease, the same thing that the doctors has said to Barrett. AJ had lost his position in the NFL and returned him a broken man. AJ was nearly as small and runty as Barrett was and was getting smaller all the time. His personality shift was more dramatic than Barrett’s had been, Barrett regularly could hear AJ crying himself to sleep. When AJ was a towering beast Barrett had never even heard a single word spoken in a unsure tone, let alone seen him shed a tear. The CDC had even visited the house to check it out for any environmental causes, they found nothing. Just like they’d found nothing at the athletic department on campus. Barrett had actually stopped off to see how things had changed. It was just the same as Barrett had left it, without any reminder that Barrett had ever existed. The CDC had even kept an office on campus, but they didn’t seem to be doing anything. Just some guy sitting alone in an office bouncing a tennis ball off the far wall. The suddenly collapse of his brothers obscenely manly physique and the CDC’s continued inability to find a medical cause had only pushed Barrett closer towards witchcraft and magic. It had knocked Barrett out of his depression, he’d become more active, more set on finding an answer. He’d be researching anything and everything that could link to his and AJ’s situation. Quickly moving away from any sort of scientific explanation and focusing almost entirely on the thin hope that something beyond explanation had caused his and AJ’s predicament. He came to the correct floor, wheezing, he was so unfit now. He moved through the cases and desks looking for some sort of sign directing him to his answer. The floor was pretty much empty of students. Just one guy with long black hair sitting at a desk with headphones on. Barrett stopped to stare at his guy, he was well built. Large pecs straining at his shirt and thick arms gripping the table. Barrett bit his lip, muscle really got to him, his little cock hardening in his pants. The guy let out a moan and Barrett could see a hand was beneath his shirt feeling up his pecs. Barrett knelt down to check under the table, having to look between the legs of chairs and desks between him and the big guy. A blond haired head was moving back and forth between the guys massive jean clad legs. Barrett let out a gasp and scurried between some bookcases. He heard a sloppy sounding slap and a guy, probably the blond, taking in deep breaths. “Zach, did you hear something… I think someone is here” one voice said between deep breaths “No one is here” another deeper voice said “Get back to sucking bitch” There was slapping sound and a return to wet sucking noises. Barrett was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against a bookcase. His cock rock hard at the sound of the blond struggling to deepthroat whatever this Zach had between his legs. Down the line of books, Barrett saw a massive ornate bookcase. Leather bound books of various sizes filled its shelves and a sign above in posh looking gold lettering read. “Tiberius J.J. Haber Occult Library” Barrett jumped to his feet, for the first time thankful that he was small, his feet making no sound as he moved. He ran down the aisle towards the bookcase. As he approached he saw how run down the bookcase was. The golden sign was faded, the wood chipped and in placed moldy. The books were covered in thick dust, but Barrett saw a few finger marks. A couple of books on the middle shelf had been touched recently, but only those books. He strained to reach up to them, again hating how small he was now. “Did you see that guy… getting a blowjob in the library” an insanely rich and deep voice boomed from down the aisle “From a guy…” another voice stated sounding annoyed “Damn” the deep voice muttered “I mean, nothing against gays, Chris, you know that…” The other guy, Chris, just sighed loudly. Barrett fell back to another set of shelves and hid behind them as the two men approached. One was tall with strong features, almost model like in his movements. The other was a brute, towering nearly as tall as the bookcases and nearly as wide as the aisle. The massive dude had a hand down his shorts and was obviously scratching at his balls. Chris though was inspecting the occult bookcase. Chris gently lifted the middle books away from shelf and tapped at the wood behind them. “Good, it’s still jammed” Chris said returning the books to their place “Huh” the big guy said, he’d been busy sniffing his hand after scratching his nuts “The compartment where we found the magic book… we jammed it so we’d know if someone else found it” Chris said, trying not to raise his voice at the giant guy The big guy's viking like face made an expression of understanding. His heavy lantern jaw moving to make an ‘oh’ sound. “It’s still jammed so whoever was asking about witchcraft never found it” Chris mused “Wait… how’d you know someone asked about that” the big guy asked “I paid the librarian to call me if someone did, why do you think we even rushed over here” Chris said smirking arrogantly “We don’t want anyone finding out what we did… well not till I’m your size” Chris gave a playful backhanded tap to the big guy’s abs which were showing through his shirt. The two turned and left, Barrett’s head spinning, could magic actually be real, what where they are hiding. He waited for the big guys wide back to vanish around a corner before slowly he started to follow them. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Sean was laying on his front on his bed. It was too small for him. His pecs were hanging off the end and he was awkwardly propping his meaty arms on the edge so he could play his game properly. His big mits pressing buttons and his TV loudly sounding out the gun shots of his character. “You ok back there little dude” Sean asked peeking over his shoulder to Ben Ben was laying between Sean’s legs, the big guys legs bent and pressing down on Ben’s back. Ben’s face was pressed between Sean’s rounded muscle ass and his tongue deep between the cheeks. “Just slap my ass once if yes, twice for no” Sean said, trying not to chuckle Ben’s little hand flew up and slapped the rock solid left cheek of Sean’s ass and then fell back to gripping at Sean’s thigh. “Good boy” Sean said returning to his game “In a bit I’m move across to my gaming chair, you can suck or sit on my dick if you like” Sean’s cock was rock hard and laying between his legs and throbbing against Ben’s tummy. “Well you going suck or ride it either way, I’ll let you choose which happens first” Sean’s let out a deep moan and almost crushed his controller as Ben excitedly assaulted his asshole with his talented and surprisingly large tongue. ——————————————————————————————————————————— On opposite sides of campus, two groups of friends were meeting. One a group of young men who were busy planning the next phase of their Homes for Humanity project. The other a group of young men planning which news agency’s website they were going to bring down with a denial of service attack. They were in similar number and a similar makeup of guys, just different in personalities. But one thing that these groups shared was that the refreshments at their meetings tasted weird.
  8. This story is a conversion of an old RP I did with a friend, @jsmith230. It was one of my favorite RPs so I thought I would convert it and share. While my first preference is muscle growth with a secondary love of height growth, you could say his preferences are the inverse of mine. So that will give you a hint of what this story will entail. Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13 *************************************************************************** Elongro “Dude, have you heard of that new 'Elongro' drug? I have to get my hands on it. I want to get huge this year!” Seth rolls his eyes as he listens to Trevor ramble on about the new miracle drug that has been making a splash among the young adult community worldwide. Trevor and Seth are college roommates and best buddies currently in their second year of college. The two were paired up as dormmates during Freshman year and their friendship blossomed from there. Both 19 years old, the two share a small apartment just off campus. To the outsider, Trevor is the alpha of the friendship, much more confident, outgoing and outspoken than his counterpart. He has always been very athletic and since coming to college has fully invested his free time into fitness and working out. He's obsessed with trying to put on mass and is always trying the latest supplements, pills and powders, along with constantly reading articles on new exercises programs to try. He has built himself up to a nice, ripped, 185 lbs on a 5’10.5 frame. His body fat hovers around 10-12% and he sports a nice 6-pack. But, like any true wannabe bodybuilder, it wasn't, deep down he wanted more. Much more. Seth is Trevor's roommate and while he also has a natural athleticism to him, he hasn't pursued it nearly to the degree that Trevor has, though few people could really say that. Some of the reason behind this is that Seth always felt just a bit too small to ever have great success in sports. He was one of those people who were content to be good enough to make the high school baseball team though he only saw limited playing time. Since college began, Seth exercised a couple times a week, mainly by just jogging, leaving him with a naturally slim and toned 145 lbs on his 5’8 body. The pair were pursuing business degrees although Trevor wasn't quite sold on the idea after his first year. While Seth fully intends to pursue a sales and marketing career, Trevor has considered switching to a more body-centric physical therapy program that would work well in parallel with his pursuit of fitness excellence. What currently has Trevor excited is the discovery of a new drug that offered an exciting possibility. Within the past year, a new compound was developed and released in Korea that is commonly known as “Elongro”. It's use had begun to spread across the developed world. However, due the USA’s overly strict drug testing protocol, the drug is still not legally available in the USA though it is available in most of Asia, Europe and Canada. The drug has caused excitement for people who are small in stature, either height or build. What the drug does is that it basically freezes a young adult growth rate, including hormonal levels, where that rate might be starting to wane. Along with enhancing the sex characteristics, it also keeps their growth plates open for an extended amount of time, allowing an individual to continue to grow for much longer than they normally would. Seth shakes his head as he listens to his roommate explain the drug. “What that means, Seth, is that if you naturally had, say, one more month of growth before your plates fused, you might keep growing at the same rate for another 2-3 months instead with Elongro. But, just think, if you were in the middle of a big growth spurt and originally had many months, or year left, you could potential retain that growth rate for a few more years! Isn't that awesome!” “Uh huh. Sure man. Sounds cool man,” Seth replied cooly. “Sounds a bit too good to be true, really.” “Well, it's not perfect, you're right.” Trevor pulls up his phone to read the details of the drug from the website he'd been researching. “The major drawback of the drug is that it has been shown to cause devastating side effects if a person is still showing any signs of puberty. Most humans complete puberty by the time they are 16 or 17 but keep growing in size for another 1 to 4 years. Because of this risk, most countries that allow the sale of the drug ban it from being used on any person under the age of 19. Also, the drug will not work if a person’s growth plates have already fused, which for many people has already occurred by the time they are 19. Thus, the window for success for the drug is very limited, if open at all. The reports say that only about one-quarter of the people who try to drug experience any results.” Trevor looks away from his phone at his disinterested roommate, but his own excitement cannot be interrupted and he keeps scrolling through the information showing on his phone. “For those that it does work, though, the results have been significant! Bro, this website says there are online rumors from the drug’s testing phase of people putting on 40-50 lbs of muscle and growing up to 6 to 8 inches taller well into their 20s! Shit dude, that would ROCK! I read that for those who are lucky enough to still be growing, the average success rate has been 15 lbs and 2-3 inches over an additional 6 months to 1 year of growing. I would give anything to put on some more size like that! My training has really stalled lately.” “That is pretty sweet, Trev. But you said it yourself, it may not even work. If you've finished your natural growth you're S.O.L.” Trevor huffs as Seth downplays Elongro. Tervor can't help but imagine the possibilities. Though he never mentioned it, while focused on growing his muscles, he secretly always wanted to be taller as well. He hadn't told Seth, but he had already started the process of obtaining the Elongro. He had already set up a quick weekend trip to Canada where a close friend was to obtain a prescription and then supply him with a vial of Elongro. He's aware of the illegality but the chance to put on some size even if it's just a few pounds or an inch in height, is too much to pass up. Because of the drug’s scarcity and the fact he has to obtain it illegally, it will cost Trevor over $1200, a huge amount for a poor college kid. “Seth, from my doctor’s appointment this summer I found out that I had grown another ½” to my current 5’10-1/2 height. So I'm positive I'm on my final growth spurt! I just KNOW it will work. But I got to get started soon before my growth stops.” “Ok, man, whatever. Man, you really are obsessed with size. You've got that dysmorphia thing, haha. I men, you are already jacked, you should be happy.” “Never big enough, bro!” the handsome stud chuckled in reply. “So how does it work? Is it a pill or something?” “Naw, it's an injection. It works from just one single injection. Each vial contain enough liquid for 5 injections, even though only one is needed. This is where you come in, bro!” “Me? What for?” “Well, the thing is, this shit is really expensive. And, like I said you only need one injection, but each vial has enough for five injections. So, I wanted to ask, If I get the Elongro, could I sell you an injection too? It would help me out and I would appreciate it. My girlfriend already said she'd take one of the injections too. Help a brother out, it's fuckin' expensive stuff. I'm not even asking for the full price of a dose, just $200 to help me cover.” “C'mon Trev, don't ask me that. I don't... Man, I don’t think I’ve grown in a couple of years, it would most likely be a waste on me.” “But, Bro, even if you had the slimmest chance to be just a little taller and stronger, wouldn’t you want to take it?” Trevor tries his best to pitch the idea. Seth rebuffs his approaches but he knows what will get Seth on board. “Hey, you know that girl that works at the rec center you’ve been crushing of the past year? Remember how you told me you overheard her talking with her friends that she said she would never date a guy under 5’10 and 175 lbs? She says that because she's pretty tall for a girl, like 5'9 or so. Just think, buddy! If you put some size maybe she’ll give you a second look!” Trevor sees the gears turning in Seth's head. He still seems unconvinced but he can tell he's touched a nerve. “C’mon man, you always told me how you felt like you were too small in high school to be one of the jocks on campus even though you were on the baseball team. This could be your chance to put on some size and least be average height. Wouldn’t you want that, little buddy?” Trevor tosses in ‘little buddy’ because he knows Seth hates when bigger dudes call him that. And that seals the deal. “Ugh. Fine, bro. Whatever," he says with annoyed defeat. "And hey, I’m way past puberty so there’s no risk, right? Other than I’ll be out $200." “That’s the spirit, pal! I promise this will be worth the investment!” * Seth walks to his room to collect the cash. He can't help but shake his head at Trevor's crazy antics. "This stuff is never going to work on me," he says to himself. But, knowing how into this Trevor is he knows that the right thing to do is to support his roomie and at least give it a try. Plus, that way when it doesn't work, he can hold that over his head! Or at least Trev will give it up and move onto something different, just like he always does. The following weekend Trevor makes five hour drive up North to Canada. Upon his return he excitedly enters their apartment and makes himself known. That night, the two friends administer the shot. They both have it their our heads that the effect would be immediate, even though all of the documentation says they won't know right away whether or not it works. But the placebo effect is very real those first few days and it drives the two crazy not knowing for sure if they will see an impact, but the excitement builds. That night Seth dream of growing taller, standing over guys who always made fun of his short height and pushing his skinny body around... being seen as tall... growing again... finally becoming the man he'd always wanted to be. Not being relegated to playing right field in baseball having never hit a home run. All those guys looking down at Seth! He jolts awake and realizes his dick is tenting the sheets. Even though he was skeptical at first, he can't help but think how deep down he must want this injection to work. How badly he needs to become bigger and stronger. He chuckles, knowing how slim the odds are and fades back to sleep. After the first few days of no noticeable changes the two both act as if nothing has happened. Although they both seem to be constantly checking themselves against the heights of familiar landmarks and people, including each other. Inside Trevor is still stoked, convinced that he will reap significant gains. Knowing that Seth hasn't grown upwards in years, he knows it likely won't work for his friend, but he was happy he at least he got $200 out of Seth. Truthfully, Trevor loved having Seth as his roommate. Not only from a personality standpoint, but he loved being the bigger and more dominant man compared to Seth. It was nothing against Seth, it just fed well into Trevor's desire to get bigger and build up his physique. Whenever they went out, Seth always demurred to Trevor when choosing which movies to watch, with parties to go to, what girls to hang with. Trevor was the alpha apparent. Two weeks after the injections the two are eating dinner and Trevor notices Seth is wolfing down a ton of food. "Hungry, there Seth?" "Dude," he says between mouthfuls of grilled chicken, "I can't remember the last time I was this hungry. I just can't get to feeling full lately... it's so weird..." Trevor chuckles as he watches Seth go back to finishing his chicken before starting on some brats. Trevor shakes his head, teasing Seth that “the freshman 15 is real, just delayed for you" before getting up to do the dishes. A bit later the two are hanging out watching TV and chatting about classes and wanting to catch the new Spiderman movie. Seth rubs his full round belly and ponders, pausing, before finally asking his roomie a surprising question. "Have you been making any gains in the gym? I was thinking rather than just running maybe I would try lifting some." Trevor is taken off guard. He knew Seth never went to the rec center other than to run, and certainly never made his way into the weight room. "I was thinking... maybe... I could like... join you sometime?" While Seth has managed to stay relatively thin, having a fitness obsessed roommate might be starting to rub off on him a bit. "Its just, with how I've been eating... maybe I should," he jokes. "I'll get fat if I keep eating like this. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to have a bit more muscle for the ladies... maybe get some attention for once. It seems to have worked out well for you!" "Hell yeah buddy! I would love to be your training partner. Hell, I was thinking I might want to make a career out of it in the future, either personal training or physical therapy. I'd love to show you the ropes, you could be my first client! But, don't worry, little buddy, I won't charge you." Seth's face tightens at the words 'little buddy' and Trevor instantly feels bad. "Er...sorry, Seth. But yeah, even though you haven't been lifting I can tell you are a little bit thicker lately, just from all the food you've been eating. I'm still making gains, but it's slow going." The next day Trevor takes Seth to the gym for his first weightlifting workout. Seth marvels at the poundages that Trevor buddy can lift. Trevor boasts that he can bench 225 lbs ten times and Seth seems to be in shock when he performs the feat. On his turn, Seth can barely do 135 lbs five times. He is disappointed but his new trainer props him up. "Hey, dude, honestly that's a great weight, especially for your first workout. When I started I couldn't even bench 95 lbs once!" Seth perks up at that. As the two leave the weight room Seth notices the hot girl at the towel desk, Stacy. He is understandably smitten as he steals glances. “Fuck, Trevor. That Stacy is one super hot chick.” "Oh I hear ya man. I certainly don't mind the eye candy when I come here to lift everyday. Would love to get into that...if I weren't currently dating Brooke, that is, haha." Grinning stupidly, Seth replies. "Yeah, she's so hot Trev.... but I doubt she'd pay much attention to a guy like me." Seth can't help but notice her height, not too far off from Trevor's. Noticeably taller than he is, certainly. That seems to be the case with a lot of girls on campus. So many of the college girls and guys seem so tall lately. Trevor laughs and reminds his friend that time in the gym won't hurt and that if he stays consistent and pushes himself that she won't care how tall he is. "Muscles always seal the deal!" Trevor chuckles and throws up a double bicep pose, flexing his impressive exposed arms, grinning cockily, causing Seth to roll his eyes. "Trev, doubt you'll be saying that when you are a six footer with me looking WAY up at you!” Seth jokes. "Then you will be tall AND muscular. I'm going to look like a little kid next to you.... so yeah, I better start lifting more I guess!" * A few weeks go by and Seth has been sticking with the gym, much to the surprise of his roommate. While it wasn't like Trevor had no faith in his buddy, he just knew the dropout rates for new lifters was very high. Trevor continues to coach and direct Seth, both in the weight room and giving him advice on his diet . His training advice is sound, and both can already see an improvement in Seth's physique, though it's not been easy for the new gymrat. "Ugh, Trevor, is it normal to ache all the time? I can never seem to really recover..." “Haha, buddy that's part of the deal. Though the more you lift the less sore you should be. It could be that you're not taking enough time to recover. Could be that your muscles are actually growing or any number of reasons. Just growing pains. But, it means that you are actually working and growing, so be excited, man!” Before long, Seth begins to notice that his shoes are uncomfortably tight. He'd worn size 9s since he finished growing taller a few years prior. At first he figures it's the workout. One day after class he hits the mall to get a new pair. While Trevor hangs out at their apartment he gets a text from Seth: [Trev, you won't believe it. I had to get new shoes! Size 10.5!! Crazy!!] Tervor's mind races, trying to process Seth's text. He'd been denying Seth's progress, playing it off as beginner gains. But could his smaller buddy actually be growing? A hint of fear and jealousy permeates his mind. He thinks to himself how his size 11 shoes haven't been feeling any tighter. He calms down and rationalizes that maybe the little guy is going to have one small growth spurt. There is still no way Seth will ever catch him. He convinces himself that must be growing too, even if his shoes still fit. I mean, your feet don't HAVE to get bigger to increase your height, right? Trevor remembers how he is up 7 lbs to 192 lbs, the biggest he's ever been and he doesn't seem any more muscular or more fat, so he assumes that extra weight is coming from added height. The thought calms his nerves and he smiles to himself, excited for the growth that lies ahead. * It is now six weeks after the shot and the two are once again in the gym working out. Seth has been make even more noteworthy progress and has settled into a dedicated routine. This time Trevor brings a notebook. In the locker room after the lifting session Trevor confronts his protege. "Dude, I am a terrible trainer! I forgot to take your initial stats to see how you are coming along. So let's start now, better late than never. We'll use this notebook to make sure you keep progressing. It's good motivation too to see your lifts go up week after week. Ok, how tall again?” "5 ft 8" Seth says, slightly annoyed. "Well, just a bit under actually." “Really? Are you sure?” Trevor looks at Seth, unconvinced. At first he is apprehensive to find out for sure, but he can't deny that Seth looks at least a little taller. Wanting to be a trainer though, he knows he needs to be accurate and thorough with his log books. "Nah, dude, let's find out for sure." Trevor directs Seth to stand against the wall while he takes a tape measure out of his bag. He measures his buddy. "Just a hair under 5 ft 9, dude!" Seth eyes widen and he looks at Trevor excitedly. He shouts, "Maybe that stuff is working for me! I've never been over 5'8 before!” “Dude, that's awesome! You're not quite AS tiny as before, haha. Ok c'mon let's take your weight.” Next, Seth hops on the scale. It reads 160 lbs. “Great job, Seth. That's a 15 lb gain in just 6 weeks. Those are pretty good beginner gains, dude!” Seth can't be more excited as Trevor notes his huge grin. He is thrilled! “Ok man, let's get your other measurements for the log.” Trevor tapes all of Seth's a major muscles groups and writes them in the notebook. Arms: 14.5” Chest: 38.5” Waist: 31” Quads: 21.5” Calves: 14” Trevor can't help but mentally compare his own stats to feed his ego. While Seth may have crept up in height he took solace that he still had him beat everywhere. He knew his 17” guns, 42” pecs, 24.5” legs and 15.5” calves were all well bigger while his tight 30” waist was even more ripped than his little buddy's. Not to mention, from what he had seen of his roommate in the showers, he had more 'down there' as well, the thought of which gave him a reassuring grin. “Not bad, dude! You've got some really big arms compared to the rest of you, definitely a strength. A good one to have too. Chicks dig big guns.” "I still can't believe it, Dude. I grew! I grew!" he keeps saying, trying not to draw a ton of attention to himself. "This is awesome. If it's working for me, it MUST be working for you too! Do you want me to measure your height too?" Tervor shifts a bit, clearly looking uncomfortable and conflicted. "It'll only take a minute... come on... this is exciting!!" Trevor shrugs and submits. Seth grabs and extends the tape measure, coming in closer to take his height. As he does, Trevor can't help but notice how much Seth seems to have closed that gap. The difference between 5ft8 and 5ft10.5 is noticeable, but an inch and a half really isn't. From a distance the two could look the same height! The thought causes the competitive trainer to shudder at the thought. He's always been bigger and taller than his roommate. "And it'll stay that way," he thinks to himself as he stands as straight as you can. The wait for Seth to declare the number feels like hours. Finally, he speaks. "Five Ten, Trev. Still." Seth pauses and watches for Trevor's reaction. He seems deflated momentarily before regaining composure. Seth attempts to reassure him. "Maybe it works different on people depending on their growth stage... I'm sure your growth will come soon!!" Seth says, slapping his back, "Hell, you've made great gains in the gym so something is happening!" Trevor seems to take this to heart, but Seth can tell he isn't completely convinced. Even so, while Seth is jubilant about his growth, he keeps it to myself to not offend his roommate. "Hey Trev, how about you have Brooke come over? I can cook us dinner tonight. I'm starved!!" he says as they grab their bags and head for the door. On the way back to their condo Trevor is obviously dejected but does his best to hide it. He can't believe that Seth is only about an inch shorter than him. And what happened to 5'10 and a HALF? Seth must've missed that last ½ inch, he tells himself. Still, it hurts not feeling as big. With the overall presence of his ripped muscles on his frame Trevor always felt like he towered over his smaller roommate. Not so much anymore. That night Brooke comes over as Seth is whipping up a feast in the kitchen. Having listened to Trevor go on an on about how important a big diet is for big muscles, Seth knew a big nutritious meal would cheer his friend up, let alone sate his own growing hunger. By now the two are well into the second semester of the school year. Everyone is deep into their studies neither had seen Brooke in about three weeks. When she comes in Trevor is stunned at how gorgeous she looks, even more beautiful than he remembered. He felt a stirring in his crotch as his girlfriend made her entrance. The FaceTime chats that they had been relegated to just didn't do her justice. She comes in wearing heels and is almost as tall as Seth! Trevor remembered her being about three inches shorter than Seth when he first introduced her. He now realizes she must be about 5'7 now! Seth too was stunned, noting how tall and sleek she looked. He recalled how Trevor told him he gave her the shot too and it seemed it was working on her too, maybe even more so than Seth! "Hey boys!", she said as she entered. “Hey babe! Damn, I've missed you. You are smokin'!” She goes over to her boyfriend gave him a kiss. Seth notices that Trevor didn't have to bend over like he used to, or at all to kiss her on the lips. She looks over at her boyfriend's roomie. "Hey Seth! You are looking good! I can tell you've been hitting the gym. Trevor said you'd been lifting with him lately. I can see that you've put on some muscle. You're going to have to move up size large, that medium shirt is looking a little tight! Trev, Babe, you must be a fantastic trainer!" The trio have a great evening catching up with each other and enjoying the grilled Caribbean chicken dish that Seth prepared. That night, after the friends retire to their rooms, Trevor goes to town fucking Brooke. All night long he had been staring at his girl full of lust. She just looked so fit and healthy. She was always fit, but she seemed to be on a another level tonight. Maybe it was the longer legs. He also couldn't deny that he was in much need of some release due to the frustration that he seemingly wasn't growing nearly fast enough. * Over the next few weeks, Seth is like a demon in the gym, pushing himself harder and harder and harder. Trevor watches and celebrates his gains, proud that his training techniques are working so effectively. And yet jealously, he see's his buddy making gains so quickly. While Seth started out benching 135, he's now pushing 185 for the same number of reps easily. It's an astounding change. And his shirts keep getting tighter and tighter, to the point now that he's started borrowing old shirts from Trevor! Trevor shakes his head, barely believing that his supposed small roommate needed them now. The duo keep pushing themselves in the gym, even during finals. They can hardly believe that the semester is almost over. It's even harder to believe that two are both getting summer jobs, though Trevor's will be out of state. "Sucks I won't be able to train with you for a couple of months, Trev... it's really been awesome. I've never been so buff in my life." Trevor has recently noticed that Seth's voice has gotten deeper over the last few weeks. Luckily, though, Seth hasn't seemed to have caught him in height. It's something they both have been watching for out of the corners of their eyes. During their last lift together for the school year Seth points to his notebook in Trevor's bag. "Maybe we should take stats again so that I can keep track of the progress myself?" “Erm...yeah man. Of course. Let's see how much mass you've put on, bro!” he says, purposely not mentioning height. The two head to the locker room and strip to their skivvies. Trevor notes how's Seth's body has developed so much that he's not too far behind himself, a thought that worries him. Seth steps on the scale first. The two watch it, with widening eyes, as it swings to 175 pounds. Seth's face brightens excitedly. "Dude... that's another 15 pounds in five weeks. NO WONDER none of my clothes fit!!! Oh wow I could tell I was getting some muscles when I look in the mirror, but this is awesome! Ok, let's take my other measurements. Bro, you are an awesome trainer!" The two high five and Trevor grabs the tape and steps up to Trevor. “Ok. Arms...16 and a quarter”. Woah dude. You are still rocking those huge guns, damn! And they are so defined, crazy, man.” Seth flexes his arm and Trevor watches, stunned, as the ball of muscle leaps into relief. It isn't huge, but a big, solid, undeniable lump of muscle bulges. It is the first time he has seen his roommate flex in any way. “Holy shit, Seth. Your peaks is sweet. Geezus. Ok, let's get the rest. Chest is...41”. Big gain of over two inches, wow. Waist is still 31”, so you're not getting fatter. It seems to be all muscle, dude! Legs...now 23”. Calves...another inch at 15. Those are some studly gains, dude! You're beginner gains won't quit!” “Thanks Trevor, I owe a ton of it to you bro!” “Any time, roomie! Ok move out the way so I can check my weight.” “Hey Trev, can you take my height?” “Erm...um yeah I suppose. You think you are still growing?” “I think so. I hope so.” It's the moment Trevor been dreading. Seth steps against the wall, standing as straight as he can. The anticipation is killing him. He WANTS to be bigger. HE WANT to be taller, even if it seems like he hasn't quite matched Trevor yet. Trevor measures him once... then again... and again. "Dude, what's up?" Seth asks. Trevor grins at him. Internally, Seth worries that he's hasn't grown anymore. Then shares the news. "You are five-ten now!" Now Seth understands the grin on Trevor's face. If he's 5ft10, that means... "Dude! Trevor, you must have grown TOO!!" The two high five, both ecstatic at each others' growth. "I told you, Trevor! It was only a matter of time!!" Trevor looks thrilled, FINALLY this drug was WORKING. Seth steps aside and readies his measurements without a word. It's clear he wants to know. He NEEDS to know. Seth first takes his weight, "200 pounds! Swole man, damn!!" And then he measures his height. "Almost 6ft, dude! You are nearly there!!!" * Trevor is so excited he could almost cry. He bear hugs Seth and lifts him off the ground, taking note of how newly solid and heavy Seth now feels. "Hell yeah buddy! We've both put on about an inch!” He sets his friend down. “But wait, you said 'almost 6 ft'. What was it really?” "Oh,...um...it was right at 5ft11.5. Maybe just a hair under.” Trevor's smile slightly wanes but he certainly can't be disappointed after the last measurement turned up no discernible growth. "But still, Seth, that's just about an inch of growth. I am totally going to hit 6 ft, I just know it!" “Hell yeah man, and maybe I can at least get to 'almost 6 ft' like you said, haha. Starting out at 5'8” I'd be more than happy being 'almost 6 ft'!” “I guess you were right, Seth. It does affect everyone a bit different. I mean, Brooke actually grew the fastest out of all us so far, she's put on like two and half inches.” “Sorta makes sense, I remember back in Junior High that the girls often grew faster at first compared to the boys. But yeah, man, it's working for Brooke though. She looks extra hot lately. Hope you don't mind me sayin'.” “Haha. No prob, dude. You can look, just don't touch!” The two laugh and high five again. Even though Trevor discovered that he is just slightly shorter than what Seth had originally let on, he is still joyous. His confidence that he always remain the bigger roommate returns. That night after the measurements Trevor meets up with Brooke for their last night together before they break from summer. Like him, she will also be away for the summer so they plan a last special night together. After eating at their favorite restaurant the two head home for some intimate time. Back at Trevor's condo, his excitement in the bedroom is palpable and spills over into his performance. “Woah there, tiger. What's gotten into you? I like it, stud.” Brooke asks, pleased at the sensations he is giving her. Brooke is also looking taller and more voluptuous than ever, further revving up the horny college stud. He proceeds to give her a heavy dicking from all the excitement at finally growing and making some noticeable muscle gains. He relays the news to Brooke and in the middle of their fucking she wants to be measured too. Trevor excitedly obeys and measure her now at 5 ft 8.5! He thinks to himself how his girlfriend is becoming quite the vixen before the two return to the bed for another round. The two, both enhanced and excited by the results of the Elongro, are able to go longer than they ever had before. The couple drift asleep in each other arms, Trevor dreaming of growing stronger, more muscular and taller than he could've ever imagined. To Be Continued... Jump to Part 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/16655-elongro/?do=findComment&comment=207069
  9. BrawnyBound

    m/m The Flashback Machine

    Part 1: "You, uh, need a hand carrying that in?" Bruce asked. He scratched his balding head as he watched Aaron haul the enormous piece of equipment all by himself. Aaron simply grunted in response. Despite being in his 50's, he managed to retain most of his hard-earned muscles from his college days through diligent training. And even though he could barely wrap his meaty arms around the length of the monitor, Aaron showed no struggle carrying the machine into the frat house. "I think he's got it," Philip replied lamely. The two watched as Aaron's wide back disappeared into the dark building. Aaron was dressed in a tank top and basketball shorts that hugged his rugged body nicely, and was probably one of the few among his alumni brothers that could pull off that look so casually. Bruce, for example, was a victim among many with his slowing metabolism and widening beer belly. He sighed as he mentally compared himself to Aaron and glanced down at the gut stretching his dress shirt, subconsciously tucking his thumbs under suspender straps. Philip, however, had the opposite problem. He was never able to gain much weight for as long as he remembered. He was so thin his brothers used to joke that he could easily hide behind a telephone pole without having to turn. Even now, Philip looked at his own loose, billowing semi-formal clothes, feeling like he could blow away if the wind wanted him to. The two were broken out of their self-loathing by the sound of a soft thud coming from inside the frat house. They filed in, Philip tracing his hand on the wall for the light switch. Bruce couldn't help but notice a musty smell in the humid air. With a flick, the main room of the frat house they once called home lit up around them. It was surprisingly tidy, although that was only because it was still summer, and most of the fraternity brothers were still on vacation. The furniture, walls, and floors, however, could not hide their age no matter how well-kept it was. Aaron had his arms on his hips as he stood by a cluster of old sofas with his device plopped down in the center facing them. "Well, I told ya the house was still standing." "Barely." Bruce remarked, glancing at the peeling paint on the walls. "It's a surprise to see they haven't made plans on remodeling, or hell, getting a new house altogether." Philip said, grimacing at the old stains on the floor. "That's why I invited you guys here. Since you guys both said you'll be too busy for homecoming-" "Work." Bruce grunted. "Family vacation." Philip chimed in. Aaron held his hands up in mock-surrender. "I know, I know. But since you guys will be pre-occupied like you are every year, I wanted to discuss the alumni dues so that we can-" Bruce groaned. "/That's/ why you invited us here? I thought we were going to hang and catch up over beer and football like old times." He tried to cross his arms but failed so he put his hands on his hips like Aaron did; though he seemed much less intimidating. Philip rolled his eyes. He looked like he was already thinking of excuses to get out of this situation. "Now hold on, hold on." Aaron said, his voice firm. "We /are/ going to catch up. I /know/ alumni dues are completely voluntary, and I /know/ that we're all building up our savings for early retirement like the next guy. But I want to give back to the organization that helped make me who I am today." Bruce could swear he saw Aaron puff up his chest a little. "And I thought," Aaron continued, "what better way to show why we should care about the future generations than to present them on this invention." He patted the top of the strange monitor. Bruce took a closer look at the machine. It somewhat resembled a CRT television, but the frame was purple and translucent. 'Like the special edition GameBoy Color,' Bruce thought. 'Did old TV's always have so many wires?' On top of the monitor, a bundle of multi-colored wires from the back collected together and funneled into the small end of what seemed to be an old-fashioned ear trumpet made of copper. The large end of the ear trumpet faced the front like a strange speaker. Below the screen, instead of buttons or dials there was an exhaust vent of some sort. Bruce thought it was strange as those little holes were usually on the back. The portly man gave a bemused smirk. "Come on Aaron, we may be old but even /I/ know this is junk. The boys are gonna laugh at your sad excuse of a donation." "I didn't know you still 'invented' things," said Philip with a stifled chuckle. "Yeah I thought you gave up on making those silly doo-hickeys freshman year," Bruce added. Aaron's proud stance faltered for a moment as he nervously glanced at the unplugged machine, then looking visibly relieved. "It's not for watching football or anything like that," he said. "It's-" he paused, thinking for a second. "It's a device that lets us replay our favorite memories on screen." Without further hesitation he crouched around the 'doo-hickey' and got to work plugging everything in. "Here, let me show you." The two guests looked at each other with skepticism. If this was a chance to make fun of another one of Aaron's failed inventions, they didn't want to miss it. 'Just like old times,' thought Bruce. Philip tapped his foot impatiently and Bruce huffed as he sat down on one of the couches right in the middle. Bruce couldn't help but stare at what Aaron was currently "showing" as his pert ass shifted and swayed in those stretched-out shorts while the TV was being set up. Suddenly realizing that he wasn't alone, Bruce glanced at Philip, who met eyes with him. He was caught in the act. Philip started to say something when the TV suddenly lit up and presented nothing but static and a soft *kssshhhh* noise. "There!" Aaron announced. The three of them stared at the screen, waiting in anticipation. "Soooo... now what?" Said Philip. About two seconds later, the screen changed to show the main room of the frat house, but from Philip's point of view. "Soooo... now what?" His voice mimed from the screen. "Woah! How'd you do that?" Philip exclaimed, whirling around and checking himself for a hidden camera. The screen copied his words and spun around with him. "Big deal. It can record and play a live feed," Bruce grumbled. The TV instantly changed and was now showing the room from Bruce's perspective. His replayed voice sounded equally unimpressed. "It- it can also play whatever memory we request," Aaron added, his voice sounding slightly panicked. He took a quick breath and then continued more calmly. "Right now, it's playing whatever surface level memories are presented from the last person that spoke." And on cue, the TV replayed his explanation. "Okay, take it away, Mr. Inventor." Bruce gestured to the screen. Aaron's eyes glimmered for a moment before facing the monitor. The machine repeated Bruce, almost as if to give Aaron permission to use it himself. Aaron straightened himself up and spoke clearly into the ear trumpet. "Show us my sophomore year Halloween party." The lights above flickered as the screen sputtered between static and blurred images as if a poorly-focused time lapse video was being played. After a few moments, the screen became clearer, and the trio was presented with the sight of a veiny, pumped forearm pushing a door open to reveal the frat house's main room, garishly decorated with an assortment of Halloween props, lit by blinding orange, green, and purple strobe lights. The new furniture was pushed to the walls as the center floor was brimming with bodies shaking to the music and hands exploring wherever they landed. Several people, to the shock of the viewers, were recognized as their old fraternity brothers. Except they were all young and carefree, some dancing, some flirting with sorority girls, and some doing things their parents probably wouldn't approve of. Most of the party goers were dressed, if you could call it that, in costumes that showed as much skin as possible. "Hey! There's me!" Bruce pointed at the screen. Young Bruce was no exception. Sloppily painted head-to-toe in green and clad in purple trunks, the man was quite a hunk. While not the tallest brother in the fraternity, he was definitely one of the biggest, and he liked to flaunt it. Even then, he had the slight hint of a beer gut beginning to emerge underneath his cut abs. Old Bruce thought it was strange seeing his young self acting so... fratty, but didn't complain with what he saw. The chicks loved him. And he loved them. As if hearing his thoughts, the younger and slimmer version of Bruce eyed the screen and his face lit up. He hollered something over the loud music and waved. The "camera" bobbed up and down in response as it made it's way through the house, greeting the brothers and other party guests in a similar gesture. The screen seemed to pan in every direction, as if looking for someone, until it landed on Philip. "And there's me." Philip gasped, now sitting. The screen advanced on Young Philip who was leaning with his back and one foot against the wall, one hand in his pocket, and holding a cup of spiked punch in the other. He meekly raised his cup at the screen with a small smile and then took a sip, staring back at the crowd. Unlike the others, he was dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks. "Hah! Phil you look like you haven't changed a bit. You're still as skinny as you were so many years ago!" Bruce guffawed and slapped his knee, clearly enjoying his jabs at Philip, who now looked like he wanted to be swallowed up by the sofa cushions. "Actually," Aaron began, "I think he's been looking a lot healthier." They both stared at him, puzzled. "I mean, you really packed on quite a bit of muscles since then. It's- it's all because of that diet and weight training routine you started in sophomore year wasn't it?" The lights flickered slightly but nobody paid mind to it. Bruce couldn't see anything in his peripheral vision for a brief moment. When the light returned, he turned to look at his brother again. "Phil-" Bruce started, but his jaw dropped. Beside him was still his fraternity brother, only he seemed different. His clothes were not loose, his posture oozed confidence, and his presence was more notable. It was like he had a stronger gravitational pull. "Wha-" Bruce tried to speak, but suddenly it felt like two plus two didn't equal four. "Actually," Aaron said again, "Bruce was right about one thing," he spoke slowly. "Phil, you don't look a day over twenty-five. Not a single wrinkle on that baby-face of yours. How'd you do it? Was it the skin care brand you work for?" He paused, glancing at the screen. "It was your investment in that company when you finished your major in business, wasn't it? You mentioned you were interested in it at this party, I think." The ceiling lights dimmed, then turned back to normal. "Yea I... Oh, I think our young selves are talking about it right now!" Philip directed his attention back to the TV. Bruce tore his eyes from Philip's body and looked at the screen. Sure enough, the camera was now half-watching the party and half-turned to Philip as young Aaron spoke with him. The camera seemed to peer down at Aaron's feet or look at the party whenever Philip smiled or laughed. Aaron whistled and sat back on the other neighboring couch. "Wow, I guess I never noticed it back then, but that workout plan really did wonders on your body early on, too." Aaron murmured. "It's a good thing you never broke your habit from the routine." . The lights flickered harshly this time. Bruce watched, rapt as the camera blinked and then focused on young Philip and his B-list superhero costume, the sexy version of course, now standing proudly on his own two feet and towering over Aaron. He was animatedly talking about his career plans, but his bare abs seemed to be the new point of emphasis for the camera. It wandered to the small but firm pecs wrapped tight in spandex along with his disproportionately huge upper arms and bulging legs. Bruce felt something stirring underneath his gut. He shook his head. 'Wait, wasn't Philip dressed in...' His train of thought halted at the sight of the hulking stud next to him. Philip was now leaning back, his gorilla-like arms slightly akimbo from his wide lats. His dress shirt was trying to keep everything together, but it looked like the buttons would pop if he simply took a deep breath. It stretched obscenely over his rounded, stuffed pecs and shoulders that were bigger than his own head. Even his traps rose above the couch cushions. The slacks did not look like they were faring any better as Bruce could make out the separations in the quadriceps through the thin fabric. "It all comes at a price, though," Philip mused, looking down at himself. "One of the side effects of the lotion is that it removes any body hair, permanently. Good thing I never need to moisturize my pits." He raised both arms overhead; two rips slowly drawn out as his lats pushed their way out from the constricting shirt. More rips were heard in quick succession as the sleeves tore apart between his biceps and triceps and from his shoulders. And he was right: while completely hairless anywhere else except for the curly locks on his head, his cavernous armpit still had some tufts of hair. "Ahh, that felt so good. Which reminds me," he continued, lowering his beefy arms, "it also makes everything really sensitive." He spread his legs and pushed them forward a little, the bulge in his groin swelling bigger and bigger. Bruce gulped at the lewd display. 'Was Philip making a pass because of what he saw earlier?' "It's a good thing," Aaron started, trying to find his words, "it's a good thing nobody ever minded how much or how little clothing you wore." Morph by Hardtrainer01 "That's true." Philip nonchalantly agreed, grabbing a handful of his overflowing underwear and scratching his exposed pecs. "Besides, finding clothes that would fit me is such a bother." He raised one arm to play with his hair, but every little movement sent his 20+ inch biceps bouncing, inviting Bruce to stare. "I bet you have a similar problem with clothes, huh Bruce?" "Uh, huh?" Bruce now realized he spent the better half of the last few moments drooling over Phil's smooth, jacked body. His hefty cock was still plumping up and clearly visible through the underwear, and his nipples, free from any constraints, already looked erect. Suck-able, even. "Yea- I mean- no. Not quite. You two can easily shop at the Big and Tall store; I just shop at Big." The brothers chuckled at this, then returned their attention to the monitor. Bruce tried to as well, but his gut was telling him that something was very wrong, and looking at Philip might shed some light. It wasn't because he was insanely hot and practically inviting him to do gay shit. No, maybe if he looked long enough he would figure it out. But Phil's sideways glance and smirk was all that was needed to make the man blush and turn back to the screen. He liked ladies, damnit! He has a wife at home! And speaking of ladies, he watched with reassurance as the sorority girls flocked to young Bruce and felt up his muscles. "Bro, I just realized why you picked this year's party." Bruce sat up and grinned at Aaron. "This was the fucking year we invited every single sorority sister-" "Sisters' polyamorous boyfriends!" Aaron finished. "Dude, what- no. We..." The lights flickered. Once, twice, and on the third time a bulb broke somewhere behind them. When Bruce turned to look back at the screen, he didn't see any sorority girls around him. Instead he was now sulking near the camera with Aaron and Philip, absentmindedly sipping from his punch. The dance floor was still populated by a couple college girls, but most of them were taken. Young Philip and young Aaron sounded like they were trying to cheer him up, keeping him company. Bruce was touched that he had such an unbreakable bond with them. Whenever they rough-housed, Bruce always ended up being sandwiched between their testosterone-laden bodies. On the outside, he was just another straight macho bro. But between those two towering studs, Bruce was putty in their hands. He fantasized about women, sure, but nothing made him harder than the thought of Aaron's funky gym smell rubbing off on him as he pilfered his roommate's dirty stretched-out laundry, or Philip's sweaty and pumped body, fresh from his rigorous workout, pressed against his during a wrestling match. And while other brothers were skeptical that he never found a wife, Aaron and Philip never once gave him shit for it. Even though he trusted them with anything about his life, he'd never let them know how hot and bothered they made him whenever they were around. Even now, Bruce swore under his breath as he felt the cool tingle at the tip of his dick, a spurt of pre-cum leaking into his trousers. "Well, it made sense, considering how our fraternity only recruits bi and gay men." Aaron explained. "Wait, what?" To be continued... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hey everyone! Thank you for all your kind comments on my last story. I was recently inspired again, and wanted to play around with a genre that I've always enjoyed: reality changing. I didn't really do as much scene-hopping as I did with my other story, and my writing in the 3rd person (limited) is still a little rusty, but I hope that the pacing and language comes across smoothly. I realized as I started writing that this couldn't be a one-shot like my last story, however. The ideas just keep coming! So this will split into several parts. Feedback is always welcomed, and hit that follow button to- *lights out*
  10. pasidious

    orientation-gay Jolias Finally Lets Go

    No one within the following narrative is below the age of 18. Jolias is a character owned by another person, @MadMutter, and is being used here with permission (admittedly late). There is no muscle-growth within this first section, but there will be a build-up. And it will happen. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ The first time I laid eyes upon him, my whole world came to a screeching halt. ...Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration. But who doesn't use a bit of poetic license when they describe a guy they not only find beautiful, but insanely hot? He was in my American History class during my first ever semester of college. That first day. And it was the night class, too. Only held once a week, but lasted almost three hours long. I'd already had one day of classes, Monday, and then Tuesday my schedule weirdly only had a single class. That one night class. It was weird walking to a classroom building at 5:45pm. I was already on a form of auto-pilot, just letting my legs guide me to my next scheduled college activity so I could get it over with. I remember entering the room and the professor was overly enthusiastic about greeting each student as we walked in. He didn't even look like a professor, either. Relatively young guy who wore casual clothes like he was just going on a trip to the supermarket. Which, honestly, helped me stay relaxed about what to expect. I usually expect professors to be stiff and boring and strict. But, the professor greeted me and handed me a syllabus personally, and I did a brief glance at it as I allowed my legs to continue to guide me to a seat in the back of the room. But then I had to stop and realize the amount of us in the class seemed kind of small, and I'd definitely be the very odd one out if I chose a seat in the back while everyone else was several seats in front of me. And the professor would surely ask me to sit closer anyway. So I did a bit of a half-spin and selected a seat close to where I was already standing. I dropped my satchel on the floor. Gently, of course, and took the seat. Now, being a bit of an introvert, I always try to avoid making any type of eye-contact with others when in a new environment. So, up until this point, I hadn't even actually looked at a single other student in the room. I knew they were there through periphery, but I wasn't actually paying any real attention to them. Until now. I had my new syllabus on top of my desk, and I was about to get my still clean notebook out of my satchel to prepare for the class when I caught a glimpse of the dude who was sitting right next to me. I sort of did one of those double-take things. Like, I looked at him, then back down at where I needed my hands to go, and then my heart thudded in my chest and my eyes immediately went back to where they'd briefly landed before. He was just... casually sitting in his seat. His notebook was already on his desk, and he was fiddling with the pen in his right hand, letting it flip between his fingers. His eyes were looking forward, and it was clear he was just zoned out, waiting for the beginning of the class. He was wearing a light hoodie that zipped all the way up and down, and he didn't have it zipped at all. And his T-shirt was orange, a stark but aesthetic contrast with his dark green hoodie. His complexion was dark, and I could see he had these cute freckles on his face beneath his eyes. His uniquely red eyes. Those were what really drew my attention. Red eyes. I felt my heart thudding in my chest as I looked him over. He had a small nose that fit his face perfectly, and his hair was this shaggy, long-ish dark brown that somewhat covered his ears. And he had on these amazing light blue jeans that were perfectly clinging to his legs, showing off the contours of them without being ridiculously tight. He was beautiful. And sexy. Hot. And it was like... imagine having a TV screen that gets cracked into a thousand little lines all over it, except for one single spot that's still intact and clear. That was my new vision. And he was the only thing in that one clear spot. But then the entire screen shattered when... "'Sup dude?" Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. My attention had been on him for so long he understandably noticed the weirdo next to him staring at him. I immediately diverted my attention elsewhere, anywhere, and uttered a swift "Hey." I heard him chuckle as I shuffled through my satchel to finally get my notebook out. But that was it. He didn't say anything else. The class began and we went through the usual first day things. Of course, it went well beyond that, since this one class was the equivalent of three regular classes. But the entire time, throughout the professor's lecturing and assigning of work, I couldn't help but steal glances at the dude next to me. He diligently took notes and would sometimes doodle in his notebook. He definitely had this smoldering quality. A certain type of heat resonating from his sexiness. And I just so badly wanted my hands, my lips all over his body. His presence alone, knowing that this beautiful guy was next to me was so enrapturing that I hadn't even noticed that I was painfully hard. And I mean painfully. My average sized cock was so hard and pressed against the confines of my pants that it had begun to hurt. The throbbing had reached a point that I could no longer ignore it, and it sent jolts up my body that I finally had to notice. I imagined him coming to my dorm. Entering through the door and shutting it swiftly behind him. Walking confidently in, almost strutting, smirking at me as I lay in my bed, and elegantly in one cool move pulling his shirt over his head and revealing a sexy body underneath, tight pecs and abs and toned arms, tossing his shirt to the side like it's just garbage, and pouncing on me. We become interlocked with each other, our hands exploring each other's bodies, kissing everywhere, and every so often locking lips, running our hands through each other's hair. And before long our pants are off, our hard throbbing cocks rubbing together as we press ourselves into one another, wanting so badly to become one. He presses down on my shoulders, pushing himself up, his tight pecs clenching together, and he simply smirks at me, his blazingly hot and simultaneously cute face making me quiver, and he reaches back and lifts my legs up, positioning himself to enter my hole. I close my eyes, his throbbing rod, eight inches of hard, pure sex about to plunge into my ass where it belongs. And as soon as his tip makes contact... "Yo!" I'm startled out of my little daydream, immediately and first noticing my crotch feels wet and my cock is still painfully hard. But then I notice eyes on me, and the professor himself is the one who called out to get my attention. I'd been leaking pre so profusely I felt like I'd actually blown my load. "You okay there, bud?" I was shaken, to say the least, but also embarrassed that I'd allowed myself to become so entrenched in my own daydream that I'd forgotten I was even in a class. And the object of my fantasy was still sitting right beside me, his eyes also upon me, and I could see through my peripheral vision that he had a seemingly amused look on his face. So embarrassing. I wanted to just disappear. Not just die, but to cease from existing. "Uhhh..." I managed to get out, frantically searching in my brain for some sort of plausible explanation for my zoning out. But the professor saved me from myself. "I know this is boring, but we're almost done. Try 'n' get some more rest for next class, yeah?" he said, a kind smile on his face but a sternness in his voice. And then he glanced around the entire room and spoke further on the matter, "I know it's an unusual time for a class and for probably all of you the first time you've ever had such a late class. Be prepared and rested!" And then he continued with his lecturing. Still embarrassed, I sat there, focusing on the front of the room and listening to the professor speak. I didn't even want to acknowledge the godly presence next to me, but my still hard, throbbing, and now wet dick was a stark reminder. And I noticed he kept glancing at me every few minutes. I still wanted to disappear. If there was even a small chance he was gay, there was an even lesser chance he'd ever be into me now. I imagined I'd have greater luck being struck by lightning twice in the same day while winning the lottery. But my cock just never calmed down. *** "Yo dude, wait up." I was attempting to scurry away and back to my dorm before I got caught in any conversation with literally anyone from that class which might potentially involve the topic of my weird escape from reality. I had to tie my hoodie around my waist to hide the blatantly obvious wet spot that had formed. And it was hard to do while still sitting down since the desk itself was still obscuring the sight of it. I heard the voice calling to me, but I desperately hoped it was directed at someone else. I had no intention of talking to anyone. But then I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I was so close to exiting the building. So who the hell wanted to chat? Well, of course it was none other than the very object of my fantasy. The one guy who'd ever sent me into such a horny torrent of imagination in my entire life to this point. My heart was rapidly sinking and I once again wanted to disappear as though I never even existed. He grasped my shoulder and actually had to spin me a little since my subconscious was forcing me to pretend I heard and felt nothing. But when I was forced to face him, I was no longer within reach of an escape option. "You alright, man?" he asked, looking into my face with what appeared to be genuine concern. "Uhh, yeah... thanks," I muttered. I wasn't at all sure of how to even respond properly to make him go away. "You don't seem like it, though. I've seen daydreaming before, but you were almost like... in a coma or something." 'Oh if you only knew what I was daydreaming about,' I thought to myself. But then my heart thudded in my chest when I realized he knew I was daydreaming and not simply zoned out. What else did he notice?! I tried to play it cool. "You're perceptive as hell, man. How'd you know I was daydreaming?" I tried to smile. "Just the look on your face. Your expression kept changing." But then he smirked. "And, uh, it was hard to ignore the tent you were pitchin'." FUCK. So he noticed that. But... he was looking. At my crotch. Which means... might he be gay? "Just... horny is all," I tried to coolly say. "Been a while, know what I mean?" "Yeah, sure..." he muttered, still grinning a little. We then stood there in an awkward silence, and I began searching for a way to end the interaction so I could get back to my dorm and take care of... business. My cock was still hard as a lead pipe. But then he spoke. And I was completely shocked by what he said. "Wanna get a bite?" I almost had to shake myself from the disbelief. I know, I know... I'm being dramatic. People get food together all the time. But with him?! Why would he want to get food with me? "Err, uh..." "Dude, come on, you gotta be hungry. That class took forever." "I guess," I unenthusiastically replied, and realized I'd better change my tone. This dude is hot. And super cool, at least so far. And the first person to reach out in any way that indicated an attempt at friendship since I've been at this school. Which, admittedly, hasn't been long, but I can't come across as antisocial. "I mean..." I stammered, "Yeah! I'm hungry as shit. Where you wanna go?" He giggled a little, "Duh, dude, the Den?" The Den is the name of the school cafeteria. "Isn't that closed? Pretty sure they close at 8." I saw his eyes widen before clenching them shut. "Shit, yeah, forgot they close. Ain't used to this late class thing." "What's nearby?" "I dunno, I think maybe a Denny's? I swear I saw one up the street." I took out my phone and did a search for a Denny's in the surrounding area. And sure enough, there was one right up the street just outside of the campus grounds. We could walk there. "Yeah, yeah... There's a Denny's up the street from here. We could walk there, if you want." "Sweet," he said, a smile spreading on his face. "Let's go!" "Don't you wanna, y'know, drop your stuff off at your dorm?" I asked. "Nah, dude, it'll take too long. I'm hungry now," he excitedly stated. He then surprised the shit out of me by grabbing my forearm and pulled me out through the doors of the building. "Where we going?" he asked, letting go of my arm. I looked at my phone again to get a bearing. "This way," I stated, and began walking. And he suddenly appeared at my side. "Jolias, by the way," he said, nudging his shoulder into mine. I noticed for the first time, finally, that he was actually shorter than me. I was already kind of short, in my opinion, at 5'9". He was maybe two inches shorter. I initially imagined him taller, but now he seemed even cuter. And still sexy as hell. "Mike," I said, responding with my own name. And my cock continued to throb in time with our steps.
  11. Here now is a re-telling of an old archive favorite, Changed and molded to be my own take on the original story - "Travis Joins the Polo club." DISCLAIMER: all parties in this story are University Students who are OF AGE. Let there be no confusion on that. It is established here and now - and on the first page of the comic. I will probably post further updates here - But if you’d like access to the full story and more behind the scenes - concider stopping by my patreon at www.patreon.com/gymjunkiemuscle and pledging to support this artwork.
  12. muscledrain

    muscle theft The Hourglass

    INTRODUCTION So, this is a real monster of a story. When I started it, I really had no idea how it would expand and expand. I just kept adding onto it. Initially, it was a story that encapsulated my love for older muscle men, but I expanded that with more younger college aged characters as I went on. The entire thing has really been a labor of love. The thing I wanted to get out of the way first was that when you write a story, sometimes characters just pop out of nowhere and that happened several times for me. I don't have any political motives in my story, in fact I'm pretty hopelessly centrist. For instance, I have a Middle Eastern character and that really doesn't have any deeper meaning other than I honestly wanted a Middle Eastern character but his interactions with other characters aren't really influenced by that fact. That having been said, I couldn't write a college story taking place today without commenting on a few of the trends I've seen in the news, and I think I either lightly poke fun of them or use them as plot points early on. I want to get this out of the way now because I'm really not making any huge commentary here, but I needed a way for my villain to be villainous, in so many words. It's hard to create a good villain, it's probably much harder for me to write bad guys than anything else. The question of who do I want the villain to be? arose early on. Originally I was going to have this much darker story, but changed it when I realized that my characters were getting much deeper and more fleshed out than my perverse fantasies at first made them out to be. They became something different and in following them around, I realized I couldn't really hate any of them 100% but in the case of my villain, I really wanted the audience to hate him right off the bat. It just makes it easier to absorb (if you'll pardon the pun) what's happening to him. This story encompasses many muscle story themes, ranging from revenge and muscle theft to age progression and regression to reality alteration, as well as gay to straight and straight to gay transformations. None of this particular story involves minors, but there are some non sexual flashbacks early on to earlier childhood and teen memories. I hope you enjoy this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I'll be continuing to edit this story throughout the next 24 hours so if you want more, don't worry. There's 26 chapters I have written so far and they will be coming shortly. This story is almost done, and stands right now at about 250 pages. I see it as about 4/5ths of the way done. I will probably finish it up by next weekend. Thanks so much, and I promised myself I would start reading all the other stories here in the Muscleversary category only after I finished my own, to give me an incentive to get it done. I will hopefully enjoy all your wonderful stories sometime soon. Derek THE HOURGLASS PROLOGUE It was a black and white sort of night, between the light fall of snow on the ground and the dark sky devoid of any color, and the bright, blinding light of a street lamp illuminating Connor Swogger aka “The Swagger” as he lit up a big cigar that curled smoke up into the night. Cody looked up at the much bigger man, who posed a formidable figure. The Swagger wore a heavy leather jacket and looked down at Cody, who stood a full foot beneath the football quarterback and captain of his team. Cody smiled nervously. This was The Fucking Swagger and you did not fuck up around The Swagger. Connor Swagger was as beautiful and masculine as they came. His black hair was neatly cut in a conservative 50s look, slicked with pomade, parted at the side and combed up in the center with not a hair out of place. He had a classically model looks. His face was perfectly proportioned. Half-Italian and Half-Anglo heritage gave him a perpetual light tan to compliment all his features. Nose not too big. Intense eyes that saw everything and when you saw him, you avoided his gaze. He had that kind of look. Hawkish. His eyes drilled holes into you. A powerful ridge over his eyebrows. His ears were equally well-proportioned. Not too big. His jaw was strong and he had a small cleft in the middle. Perfect shade of stubble. And for the lucky women that got to bed him, he exploded in the muscle department. His arms were so big and well defined it was like watching two giant scoops of ice cream piled on either arm, of pure muscle. His chest was voluminous and perfect. His shoulders, like cobra hoods, lifted any light shirt above his neck in a quite intimidating fashion. His voice, which approached the gravelly and bordered on the kind of sexy where women or gay men would practically vie just for the chance to hear whatever words came out of his luscious mouth, finally spoke: “So you want to come in?” “Yeah, I’d..I’d like to.” “We don’t let just anyone in to an Alpha Beta Omega party.” Connor held his cigar thoughtfully in the air, watching the smoke curl up in the freezing air. “What does your family do?” “My father is an engineer. My mother just works at a plant nursery. But I’m a straight A student and I know I’m going places. Sir.” The little man stood at only 5’4”. Face that looked older than his 19 years. Had a bit of a receding hairline and closely cropped light ginger hair. He had a desperate look on his face. He looked like a tall ginger midget with buck teeth. “You know who you look like?” “S-sir?” “You look like a taller version of Mini Me. From Austin Powers.” “Yeah..I…I..” “Look if you want something to partake in, we can help you with that, but I can guarantee you that no girl in there is gonna touch you with a ten foot pole. Just look at you.” The little man looked unsure and ashamed. Is the little puss gonna cry? “I just thought maybe I could mingle-“ “Stop. Did you hear what I said?” “Yes, but-“ “There are no buts with me. You heard what I said. So there it is.” “Look,” the little man continued, trying to put his game face on. What was his name? Dave? Cory? “I know I look little but I am on my way to big things. How would you like an all expenses paid vacation to the Bahamas? I have a cousin down there who can take care of you and-“ “Stop. You’re boring me.” Connor took a drag of his Macanudo. “My stepfather is rich as fuck. I can go anywhere in the world on his credit card. Hell, I could take a vacation to Paris to celebrate getting up in the morning. How are you at physics?” “I…I’m really really good.” “Great. You’re going to write Randy’s physics homework by next Friday. He’ll give you the details. You got cash?” “Yeah. I uh…do you guys have coke?” the little man asked, not realizing he gave away his own uncertainty and anxiety away in his voice. “Yes, we do. That oughtta cover it.” Connor counted the roll of bills. “In exchange for the paper you will be allowed in. I also have a paper due by Wednesday. How are you at history?” “Great! What do you need? What’s it on?” “The Spanish Civil War and its portrayal in two films, Pan’s Labyrinth and Belle Epoque. Think you can handle that?” “Film papers are a snap, Mr. Swogger. Sir.” “You are going to write that paper. In exchange, Mackenzie here will introduce you to some of the girls. Do not say anything stupid. Do not bring up any nerd crap about hobbits, wrestling, toys, roleplaying, or your collection of literally anything.” Connor bit into his cigar and inhaled so the cherry of it glowed red, the only color that Cody could see. “Yes, sir. That’s why you’re the boss, sir.” “And you are scientific proof that beta males exist. Take him inside.” “I’m very excited to be here. You guys are the coolest..” as the little man lagged behind Mackenzie, Connor turned to Randy and said: “I’m gonna need to take a few of the boys over to see someone. Keep an eye on the party while I’m gone. Do not let anyone who is unauthorized into the coke room. And I mean NO one.” “I won’t. I’ll make sure of it.” “Put Nunez to work setting up some beer pong. Get the good wine out. It’s gonna be that kind of night.” Connor chewed his cigar. It was a rare vice he allowed himself. He was addicted to nothing in this world so much as controlling others and he did it with ease. Across the campus, a fresh layer of snow piling up as it began to fall lightly over the three fraternity brothers. His two cohorts, Sammy McCabe and Jeff Hobson were two of Connor’s closest football and fraternity brothers. They saw eye to eye on things. More importantly, they always followed Connor’s lead. They walked to the 24 hour library, past the circulation desk with the lone employee stationed there this time of night, a future spinster fat chick with glasses who completely ignored them as she went through a stack of books. Third floor and to the left, all the way down was a room. No one was in the entire building. Friday nights were generally abandoned until the week before midterms. Inside a room, which thankfully wasn’t glass (60s era architecture allowed for more privacy than modern architecture) he found two men hunched over a table and whispering to each other. One immediately got up and whispered an apology. “What the hell is this?” a man in glasses exclaimed. “Here he is, as promised,” the second man, a sophomore who wanted to pledge as Alpha Beta Omega told Connor. “Good man, we’ll take it from here,” Connor said as the future pledge slipped out and Connor’s goons closed and blocked the only doorway. The small study room was dimly lit by one small orange lamp hanging from the ceiling. “Who are you? What do you want?” “Richardson, right? Max Richardson?” Connor began. “Yeah, what’s it to you? What is this all about? Are you idiots trying to intimidate me or something?” He immediately came across as a weaker man. Black hair, possible Jew. Big glasses. Obviously gay. Slightly effeminate. He put his arms on the desk for support so he could stare directly at Connor. “We just need to have a little chat about your plans. See, it’s become known you want to form a little protest.” “Yeah. That’s my right. Constitutional amendment about free speech. Might wanna…look it up.” He was getting nervous now. He could feel it in the room. He was alone and it was nearly midnight. No one could see him or hear him. He reached for his phone and Connor plucked it out of his hands with a smile and handed it to McCabe. “Now then. Where were we? Let’s talk about your plans to protest the school for racism, sexism, and homophobia. And what else, you want Yeoman University to be a sanctuary school for illegal immigrants?” Connor began listing things off as he knew them, without consulting any paper. He had this part memorized. “You want to create an environment where students can feel free to express themselves with safe spaces. Well, that’s good. Are you in a safe space now, Max?” “I don’t know what you think this is but I’m going to tell people about it.” A little more frantic in the voice now. Good, good. “I’ll answer that for you. See, there are no safe spaces. Life isn’t a safe space. And up here in the far north? We only care about three things. Football. Getting grants for the school. And the prestige that comes with hobnobbing with the class of American’s finest. That doesn’t include the janitor you want to give a Tesla car to because of your socialist mess of a belief system.” “What I want is for everyone to have justice and equality and those are things you probably don’t understand.” “Oh, I understand. See, I’m majoring in business. Which is like majoring in the Real World. You are majoring in some kind of bullshit Pretend World arts degree where you can just imagine that life isn’t ruled by certain factors. One of those is we are this school. We. As in the rich kids who come here and fund everything. And this school is very old and has a lot of investment in not becoming like other schools where little bitches like you run around screaming your gay asses off and try to run shit by publicly demanding that the Dean and Vice-Dean bow to your every whim for fear of being deemed racist, sexist and homophobic. It’s amazing what a little taste of power does. See, some people can handle it. Some people aren’t meant to. You’re one of the latter.” “Yeah well I’m still gonna tell everyone about this and I’m gonna bring a judiciary hearing against all three of you and-“ Connor held up his hand to silence him. “Please stop. I’m not one of your moronic minions. I have something to show you.” As Connor was speaking, McCabe got out a folding laptop out of his backpack and flipped it on. “I want you to tell me if any of these look familiar. Any of these conversations where you were talking about all the dirty little things that turn you on.” “Oh my GOD.” Max’s eyes went wide. “How did you get these! That’s private. Those are private!” He pointed a finger at Connor. “Don’t you know there is no more privacy? Now there was this guy in Iceland and you told him that you would love nothing more than to be his little woman, to dress up in lingerie for him, be his little whore, even be his slave girl, and it just goes on and on. Oh and here you say that you wouldn’t mind if a…well you say some really raunchy things here. Not to mention highly illegal! I don’t even want to repeat them. You even distributed illegal materials. Where did you even get those pictures? And if your parents ever saw this particular passage, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t ever be the same in their eyes again.” “There was no guy in Iceland,” Max said softly. “No, dude. That was me,” Hobson answered coldly. “What do you want?” Max was now at his mercy. He’d be willing to do anything now. “You’re going to stop any and all anarchic bullshit. No bullhorns. No social justice on campus. No anti-establishment nonsense. And especially no criticism of this school or the people that run it. Do we understand each other, Max?” “Perfectly,” Max said, trying to be calm. “Great. In addition, you will report any and all subversive activities directly to me and the Dean. You will do this via email or in person, depending on what I direct you to do. You’re not going to make many friends with this BS anyway. People are sick of that shit. They come to this school to get away from that shit. That guilting, nanny-state coddling that makes simpering morons and cowards into heroes. It elevates the undeserving and tries to put them on a pedestal as if they were the same as real men like myself and my colleagues, or real women like my girlfriend who plans on being a wife and mother someday. And maybe she’ll do some work online. That’s what God intended when he made people. One man and one woman are what a real marriage looks like and why it’s so hard for you people to understand is beyond me.” “You think you’re so much better? Look at you. You’re a bunch of bullies and hypocrites pretending like you should just do whatever you want because you’re on the fucking football team? Fuck you. You’re nothing more than a…pathetic coward yourself.” Max didn’t really have a lot of oomph in his speech and if anything it seemed bitchy. “You’re not the Mafia, you know.” “No, but I have respect for what those men do.” “Of course you do,” Max said, amused. “Because they have a code. And they stick by it.” Connor walked around the table to bend down and look Max in the eye, looking at him with a scolding look and speaking in a scolding tone as if he was with a child. “And if I were you, Max, I wouldn’t talk that way to my superiors.” And with that he sucker punched Max straight in the gut. Max made a terrible small sound, the wind having been knocked out of him and he was grasping again for air. He whimpered and cried as he crumpled on the floor. “Don’t ever call me pathetic or a coward again, or I’ll take one of your body parts with me next time as a fucking trophy. We’re done here.” Connor came back to Alpha Beta Omega as if nothing had occurred. He told everyone to have fun. He encouraged drinking and debauchery. He hooked a few people up he thought would love to have sex now that they were all drunk enough. He was the Master of Fun. He was the Master of Everything in this school. He was Connor the Swagger and he was un-fucking-beatable. That night he took a demure girl by the name of Danielle upstairs to his master bedroom suite. Hundreds of years old, the room had a giant bed and was decorated with antique furniture. It gave one the feeling of grandeur and opulence, which is nothing less than what he deserved, and as he plied her into bed, with her shy looks and soft skin, and tossing her hair to please him, lying back to look sexy for him as he slipped off her panties and climbed on top of her, dwarfing her, slipping inside her, he thought about how it would last forever. A life of fucking, partying, hot women and getting rich. Danielle stared at his arms, massive biceps and tris as big as her head and the veins that ran between him she orgasmed at the sight of him above her, his giant pecs and his unbelievably handsome face. He kissed her hard and shoved her up in the air, his dick ready to fully plow her as he carried her on his dick, using her body to service him, to act as a personal fuck toy he could carry, heaving her up and down over his mightily engorged fuckstick. That’s why I love short women, he thought. “You like that, babe?” “That was…” she gulped. “That was amazing, Connor. I’m so glad I’m with you.” She was all over him, kissing him and the two fell asleep in each others arms as snow collected on the windowsill behind them. And standing down in the snow just below the house was a stranger wearing a dark woolen overcoat, looking up, who saw and heard whatever he wanted. No one saw him. The figure walked back into the woods from the direction he came as the snow erased his footprints one by one.
  13. Hey y'all. Long time reader. First time Writer. Here's a little story I've been working on while I'm bored in quarantine. Part 2 will be coming very soon. Hope y'all enjoy. Chapter 1: Making Plans It had been a long quarantine for Collin and Sam. With all of their classes being moved online and them being locked in their tiny house together, they were getting a bit stir crazy. With Collin being at high risk with his asthma, and Sam wanting to protect his friend and roommate, the two of them hadn’t really left the house except for groceries and the occasional errand that Sam would run. Each of them had enrolled at the local college and met their freshmen year. They met at a party one night and started talking and became fast friends. Every year since then, they had been roommates together in a small house they rented. Now, juniors in college, they are stuck in the house with each other. Luckily, it was looking like their long quarantine would be coming to an end. The governor of their state had slowly been reopening stores and restaurants. With the country appearing to go back to normal, they thought it was appropriate to have some friends over at the very least. “Oh, come on Collin. I know you are worried about this pandemic, but we have been cooped up in this house for over three months. With everything reopening, I think that we can at least begin to see our friend group again,” said Sam trying to convince his roommate to let his friends back into their life. “It doesn’t even need to be the whole group. It can just be a few of them.” Sam walked into the kitchen of their small house to grab a snack. “I don’t know Sam. I’m just worried about the possibility of any of them bringing the virus to us,” said Collin as he sat down on their couch in the living room. “We are going to be exposing ourselves to whatever they have come in contact with.” “But you’ve already been exposed to the outside world,” said Sam as he sat down in the chair facing Collin. “I go to the grocery store once a week or so and then I come home. How is me going shopping less dangerous than our friends coming over to see us?” “You’ve been staying safe. You don’t leave the house besides going shopping. We don’t know where they’ve been. They could’ve gone to restaurants or bars for all we know. I trust that you’re being safe. I don’t trust them.” Sam leaned back in his chair crossing his arm. Clearly disappointed by his friend’s aversion to the slightest bit of human contact. Sam’s face lit back up with an idea. “What if we can make sure they social distance for at least two weeks? The 4th of July is coming up two weeks from this Saturday, if all of our friends could social distance for those two weeks, could we have a barbeque?” Sam gave Collin the biggest puppy dog face imaginable. Accentuating his big blue eyes to drive the point home. He knew Collin couldn’t resist the face. After a moment of thinking, Collin finally surrendered to his roommate’s begging. “Ugh, fine. If you can get all of them to social distance for two weeks, we can have them all over for the 4th.” Sam jumped up from his seat with glee. “Woohoo! You won’t regret this bud! We are gonna have so much fun!” Sam gave Collin an excited side hug and ran into his room to get his phone and texted everyone who was still in town. Collin watched as Sam ran off to his room with a slight smile on his face to see him so happy, but it faded into worry for what might happen if his friends fail. Sam presented the obstacle to the group and they were all on board. He took a head count and requests from everyone for what they would like served. Sam said that he would cook everything and they’d Venmo him their share. This way there would be less people preparing the food. A couple weeks went by and Sam went out the Friday before to get all of the food they were going to need. With twelve people to cook for, Sam would have his work cut out for him. On the menu were burgers, chips and dip, mac n cheese, jalapeño poppers, and Sam’s homemade chocolate pudding. He bought everyone a few different types of beer and some seltzers for the nonbeer drinkers. He wanted to go all out for this get together if it was going to be the first one after months of isolation. As he was shopping for ingredients for the dishes, he came across a fun spice kit. It was a six-piece spice set that read “Spice Up Your Life”. None of the spices seemed familiar to Sam but he thought ‘What the hell? With the way my life is going, I’m gonna need all the spice I can get.’ He grabbed the kit and continued shopping. He arrived home and started unloading the groceries. “Hey Collin!” Sam shouted from the kitchen. “You mind running out to my car and grabbing the rest of the groceries?” Collin groaned in protest but reluctantly got up from his bed and came out to help Sam. Coming into the kitchen, he saw all of the food that Sam had already brought in. “You have more food in the car? This is enough food to feed a village for a week and we’re having 10 people over for one afternoon,” Collin said with shock. “We can have leftovers if we have to,” said Sam, getting out various bowls, plates, and cutting boards for the preparation of the food. “Besides, you could easily eat all of this food by yourself in one sitting,” said Sam gesturing toward the slight gut that his friend had gained since the quarantine began. “I haven’t put on that much weight, have I?” Collin looked down at his slightly bulging belly and rubbed it. “Well there is a reason why I have to go to the store every week instead of waiting longer.” Sam walked over and smacked his friend’s stomach and watched it jiggle a bit after. “But there’s nothing wrong with that. You normally live in the gym and eat the same diet while we’re in our normal life. It’s just your calorie needs have gone down, but your intake hasn’t,” said Sam with more sincerity in his tone. “I guess you’re right,” Collin said with a bit of sadness for his lack of gym routine. He normally was a buff stud. But he had put on that COVID 19 and his muscles have deflated a bit from his normal jock physique. He sulked for a second and then proceeded to go get the rest of the groceries. “Hey, don’t get down about it bud. I’m gonna tell you the same thing you told me the night we met. “I always love a little more cushion for the pushin’”,” said Sam with a wink and slapped his roommate’s ass. “Now go get the food. I have a lot to do if we want everything ready for tomorrow.” Collin smiled and grabbed the rest of the groceries. Sam had wished he could repeat the night they met. But he knew not to get his hopes up too much. Sam carried on cooking and prepping for the barbeque. He was going through his groceries and saw the spice kit he had randomly thrown in his cart. He opened it up and saw the six spices. Each seemed to have their own specific color of the rainbow for each flavor. Sam divided each flavor up to a specific dish that he’d prepare. But that left him with one spice left over, purple. He didn’t know what to do with it. So he stowed it in the pantry for another day. After what felt like hours of preparing, everything was ready to be cooked tomorrow. Collin walked out of his room to see all of the food. “Ooooo is that your world famous homemade chocolate pudding?!?” said Collin, reaching out his finger toward the giant bowl only to have it batted away by Sam. “Yes, it is, and you can’t have any. It’s famous for a reason. Everyone loves it and I want to make sure everyone gets some tomorrow.” “Oh come on Sam. Just a little finger? Pretty please?” Collin said trying to use Sam’s own begging trick against him. Trying to slouch down to Sam’s shorter height to really sell it. “Hey no fair. That’s my trick,” said Sam with a bit of a chuckle. “Alright. If you really want some, the spoon is sitting over there on the counter. Just finish up before I put everything into the dishwasher.” Collin beamed with delight. “You’re the best.” He walked over to the counter with joy in his steps. He picked up the spoon and sat down at their dining room table. Licking the spoon and loving every second of it. “Mmmm. You really should make this more often. It’s become one of my favorite desserts ever since you’ve started making it.” “I know. Everyone loves it, but it just takes me forever to make it.” Sam began washing the dishes while talking with his roommate. “Yeah, but you won’t let anyone help you since it’s your family’s secret recipe.” Collin standing up quickly from the table feeling a bit of heft to his body that he was not used to. He walked over to put his now spotless spoon in the sink for his roommate to wash. “And it’s staying that way. If you wanna try and recreate it, be my guest.” After Collin put away his spoon, he began grazing the counter for any other treats he could snack on. He saw that Sam had already finished making the dip for tomorrow. He reached into the pantry and grabbed some chips. Shoveling out the dip and into his mouth. Letting out the occasional “Mmm”. “Hey. The dip might not be as well renowned as the pudding, but I’d still like to serve it tomorrow,” said Sam grabbing the dip and hoisting it in the fridge. “You’re no fun.” Collin put his chips back in the pantry with defeat. “Can you at least make me something that I can eat?” “Do I look like your mother? No. You’re a grown ass man. You can cook your own food,” said Sam as he went back to cleaning the dishes. “Pleeeeeease Sam? I’m letting you have this barbeque. Just make one sandwich for me.” Collin again went down to Sam’s level and gave him the puppy dog face. Quivering his lip every now and then for dramatic effect. “You’re getting way too good at that. Fine, I’ll make you a sandwich.” “Again, you’re the best.” “Yeah yeah yeah. Just get me out everything you want on it. I’m almost done with the dishes and then I’ll make it.” Collin grabbed bread, cheese, and butter. He was wanting a grilled cheese, but not your average one. He also pulled out some jalapeños, some bacon and even grabbed a spice that Sam was using before. “Got it. Now what?” “Why don’t you start cooking the bacon and slicing the jalapeños? I’m almost done with the dishes and I’ll cook it for you after that.” Collin did as he was told. Frying the bacon and dicing up the jalapeños while dashing bits of spice onto them. “Alright everything’s ready. Done with the dishes yet?” “Almost. Why don’t you grill it and I’ll eat it when I’m done?” “You’ve been done with dishes for a while now, haven’t you?” Collin said while throwing his sandwich on the skillet. “And you didn’t cook all day, did you?” “I retract my previous statement. You are no longer the best.” He picked up his sandwich and took it to the dining room “Nope. I’m better.” Sam walked in and joined his roommate with a banana to eat. “So how has everyone done in terms of keeping their distance?” asked Collin between bites. “From what I can tell, good. I don’t have ankle bracelets on them so there’s no real way to know, but from what they’ve said, they have been.” “They’d better.” Collin said getting up to put his plate away. As Collin got up, Sam noticed his shirt was riding up a little more on his belly. Nothing too severe, but it definitely bulged out from his body a little more. Sam followed him into the kitchen and threw his banana peeled into the trash. “Need anything else before I head to bed?” “Maybe just help me put everything away,” said Sam as he walked by his roommate to make room in the fridge for everything he’d prepared. He turned around to grab the food only to see his roommate’s pecs right in his face. ‘That’s odd. Normally I’m eye level with Collin’s chin.’ “Hey Collin, did you get taller?” Collin looked down at his roommate. He’d always been a few inches taller than him, but Sam was looking particularly small tonight. “I doubt it. I stopped having growth spurts a while ago. Maybe you just shrank?” laughed Collin, ruffling his roommate's hair. After the kitchen was completely clean, Collin started walking toward his room. “Night tiny.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Night big guy.” He watched Collin walk away. His eyes lingering on his fat ass. I looked like it was pushing those poor shorts to their limit. Watching it wobble from side to side. Each cheek looked like a soccer ball. Sam knew what he’d be jerking off to tonight. He headed to his room and shut the door. After a quick jack, he went to bed, excited for their get together tomorrow. For more updates, story ideas, or general MG stuff, Follow my twitter: https://twitter.com/Musclesaber
  14. TheId

    m/m Coach and the Tutor

    I don't write very often because I feel like I have nothing new to contribute to the genre, but I start to feel guilty about just consuming, once in a while, and want to write something. Here goes. It was almost 5:30 and I was starting to get steamed again. I’d been the wrestling coach at this college for almost 10 years and I’d never been shown so much disrespect. I was more than ready to show the little pipsqueak not to fuck with my authority ever again. It all started a few weeks ago when my star wrestler, Cory, flunked an important test and got his stupid ass at risk for academic ineligibility. I managed to ‘persuade’ his professor to change the grade—he was used to being the big man around campus, bet he thought he was pretty tough always grading the athletes in his class so severely. He was about 6’1” and pretty muscular, but he nothing compared to me. When I visited his class one day as all the students shuffled, I could see his eyes get wide. I’m pretty used to getting that reaction, I’m 6’5”, got wide fucking shoulders and boulders under the skin for biceps. My chest is huge, and juts out in front of me and leads the way when I need to deal with some little man who’s trying to pull one over on me. I could see the cocky professor watching my chest with wide eyes as I stepped up to him. I heaved both my pecs under my tight white tank, let him really get a look. “Up here,” I said, my chest practically pressing against his. He looked UP into my eyes and visibly gulped. I’ve got a chiseled jaw and just the faintest hint of a beard, thick, scratchy stubble, and right now I was scowling down on him. “C-can I help you?” “You might be new around here, I’m Coach Peterson. Wrestling head coach.” “N-nice to… umm,” his eyes again traveled down my body. I knew he could see my rock hard stomach through the fabric of my tank. Was he trying to look at my bulge? “M-m-meet you… Sir.” Sir? Nice. This was going to be easy. Who am I kidding, it’s always easy. “Let’s cut the bullshit. You failed one of my wrestlers on the last test. You’re going to give him a ‘D’ and he’s going to pass this class. Am I understood?” “B-but I c-c-can’t…” He stuttered. I grabbed him around the waist and, easy as anything, lifted him up, practically throwing him down to sit on the desk. He gasped and I saw his hand drift down to his crotch. “I’m not going to tell you again. I’m going to get what I want, and I don’t want to hear any more about the wrestling team getting failing grades. Otherwise I’m going to get hostile, and you don’t want me to get hostile.” I looked down at the bulge hardening in his slacks. “Or maybe you would.” But I didn’t come here to fuck some bitch, although it would’ve been easy with this muscled up professor. I just strut out of the room, flexing my shoulders as I walked, letting him see the muscle on my back explode. In the end? He gave Cory a ‘B’. Pathetic. So what’s got me so pissed off today? Well, the brush with losing his eligibility meant that Cory needed to take mandatory tutoring. That meant he had to leave practice 10 minutes early to meet his one-on-one tutor: already bad enough. To make matters work, I received a formal request from his tutor that he wouldn’t see any improvement in his grades without a lighter work load on the team. I ignored it, of course. Some pip squeak college nerd tutor wasn’t going to pull away my best wrestler. But then the little pip squeak (Stephen was his name, if I remembered right) filed an official request with the director of athletics for the college, and I was going to be under all kinds of scrutiny unless this kid dropped his request. So “in the interest of helping Cory’s grades,” I invited the tutor kid to meet with me in my office at 5:30 when he was done with Cory’s session. Of course, I was going to ‘persuade’ the kid to drop his request. There was a knock on my door promptly at 5:30. I shouted a gruff “Come in” in as deep a voice as I could. If he wasn’t shaking already, I wanted him intimidated by the time he walked in. In walked the pip squeak. He was small, about 5’9” and skinny. He wore khakis and a tucked in polo that was obviously too big on him. It looked like he was wearing his big brother’s clothes. For what a pip squeak he was, he had a handsome face, I had to admit. Face still smooth from youth, but something about the little smirk on his face made me want to wipe it right off. “Thanks for meeting with me,” he held out his hand to shake mine. I grabbed his hand and squeezed. Hard. Not hard enough to cripple the kid, but hard enough to let him know he wasn’t dealing with some weedy academic types like he was used to. “My name’s Stephen Solis.” “I’m Coach Peterson,” I answered. I tightened my grip, since it didn’t seem he was reacting to the squeeze. His hand was so fucking small in mine, it’s a wonder I didn’t crush him. He took a seat across the desk from me, didn’t even check to see if his hand was alright. Usually a guy has to kinda wave it out when I shake his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Peterson.” This kid had some nerve. Getting off on the power of his position as a fucking student tutor. I was going to show him real power. “Coach,” I growled. “Let’s cut the bullshit. You filed a request with the head of athletics, isn’t that right?” “Yes, it certainly is.” “You’re going to drop it. You’re going to tell anyone asking that Cory is doing great on his schoolwork and doesn’t need any tutoring. Am I understood?” He took a moment to breathe in, rested his elbows on the chair’s arms and folding his hands. He seemed like he was sizing me up, trying to figure out how serious I was. He probably was trying to decide if I’d actually beat him to a pulp if he said ‘no’. He didn’t look scared, though. I honestly couldn’t read him. I got more frustrated. “No. I can’t do that, Mr. Peterson. Cory was done a huge disservice in his high school education, and I won’t let that to happen to his college education, as well. It’s my responsibility to make sure students are doing the best they can. That’s why I tried to put in my initial request with you.” “Listen here,” I was practically shaking I was so mad. “You don’t understand how this works. This kid is the reason we’re going to win the title this year. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure he’s on the mats.” “I’m sorry Mr. Peterson, but no. I’ve made my decision. It’s the best for Cory. That’s my concern.” It had been years since anyone said ‘no’ to me. It surprised me, then it infuriated me. If the kid wasn’t going to obey, I’m pretty sure I could control anyone coming to ask questions about my hurting this pip squeak. “You little pip squeak, this isn’t a discussion—“ “You’re right. I’ve made up my mind. Goodbye, Mr. Peterson.” He stood up and made for the door. I was up like a shot, taking the walk to the door in three big strides. I slammed it back closed just as he tried to open it, I held it closed. My chest was right in his face, and I was standing so much taller than him. When he looked up at me, he was still smirking. Not for long. “I don’t joke around, pip squeak.” “No. I’m sure you don’t.” He grinned up at me. “I like that. You know what? I think you’ll do.” “What the fuck are you—“ There was a sudden squeal of metal. I guess I must have gotten lost looking him in the eye, I didn’t even realize when he reached out, grabbed the metal frame of the door and bent it in, effectively pinning the door closed. I blinked twice. I tried to pull the door open, it wouldn’t budge an inch. I put my hip against the wall and tried wrenching it open. Nothing. I looked at the twisted metal, I could see the individual indents where his fingers had sunk into the metal. I touch the metal. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “I have a feeling you have a need deep inside you, Coach.” He said the word so dismissively. Who the fuck did this little pip squeak think he was. I tried to bend the metal back, my biceps bulged and my forearms became a map of blood vessels and hard muscle. The metal wouldn’t bend at all. The pip squeak had walked back over to my desk while my mind tried to make sense of what had just happened. “You get so much out of having those big, show-off muscles. Bet it’s a long time since you’ve even had to give that body a challenge. Long time since you had to think about what real strength was.” “You piece of shit, I’m gonna choke the shit out of you.” I started after him. Was honestly going to punch the smirk off this kid’s handsome face. I barely had time to process what happened. With the most casual laugh, he stooped down, grabbed the leg of my desk, then he stood back up, bringing the entire desk with him, lifting it into the air so smoothly it might had been pulled up on wires. Then he swung the desk, one handed, like it was some kind of baseball bat. The impact threw me across the room and splintered the desk! He dropped what he was still holding and stepped over all the papers and things that had spilled off my desk. “I have a way I’d like to choke you, Coach,” there was that tone again. “I don’t usually do things like this, you know.” I scrambled up and threw the hardest punch I could. He caught it easily before it could connect with his jaw. That tiny hand against my big fist was… so fucking strong. I grimaced as it felt like that hand was going to crush my fist. “Augh!” I screamed, thought the bones in my hand were going to break. I tried to knee him with all my strength. He just batted my knee back down to the ground, causing me to collapse into a puddle on the floor. Except my torso was being held up by that rock-hard grip still holding my aching fist. “L-let go of me.” “That’s not a very polite way of asking for something, is it?” He squeezed harder and I couldn’t help the shout that came out of me. “Fuck you.” “You see Coach, I’m pretty strong. Insanely strong, actually. But I don’t feel the need to go around trying to push people around.” He walked towards a chair, dragging me behind him by my fist and outstretched arm. I couldn’t seem to find my legs, tried hard as I could to pull away. Instead, my body just slid across the floor. “Though I’ve got to admit, it feels fucking awesome to be able to show off, once in a while.” “Who the fuck are you?” I finally found my feet and tried to stand up and wrench my fist away. It didn’t budge. He chuckled. “I told you who I am, dummy.” “Wh-what are you?” All I could think about was getting my fist out of the crushing pain it was experiencing. He smiled for a minute and stepped up to me, wrenching my fist so it raised up above my head and then pushed me back to my knees. My poor fist! I would do anything, I couldn’t afford to lose my hand! “I’m the Man,” he answered, simply. I looked UP at him from down on my knees, up into that fucking smirk splitting that handsome face. “P-please let go…” I said quietly, the pain causing my voice to shake. “I can’t hear you.” “Please let go of me!” “You’re new to begging, so I’ll give you one more chance.” With that, the pressure on my fist must have doubled and I cried out in pain. “Please let go of me, Sir! Pleeeeaase!” “If I let go of you, you’re going to do what I say, or you’re going to feel this power of this hand crushing something else.” He put the toe of his dress shoe between my thighs and lightly tapped against my balls through my gym shorts. “Are you going to do what I say?” “What the fuck do you want---AUUUGHHH!” He squeezed again. “’Yes Sir’ is the answer we’re looking for here, Coach.” “Y-yes Sir! Fine! Yes Sir! Just let me go!” “Tell me your name. Your first name.” “Curtis!” “Hmm. I’ll call you ‘boy’ instead.” With that he let me go and I cradled my sore hand to my chest. I didn’t even get off my knees, trying to process what had just happened. The pain went away pretty swiftly, and I could suddenly realize that a bruise was forming on my side where I’d been hit by the desk. Also, I felt a stirring in my pants. What the fuck? “I see that excited you. Good. I knew you’d be the one.” “I’m not excited you fucking pervert!” I growled, but still didn’t get off my knees. I wasn’t ready to admit to myself yet that it was a lie: I’d been rock hard in my pants the minute I realized I couldn’t pull my hand free of his grip. “Oh, my poor little boy.” He strode over to the other side of the room and plucked one of my college wrestling trophies off the shelf. It was a big golden cup attached to a thick marble base. I kept it polished to a shine. “Don’t be shy, it’s a perfectly natural reaction to realizing you’re over-powered.” I looked away when he tried to catch my eye, afraid to stand up because my big hard cock was tenting my shorts. One of his small hands took my chin between thumb and forefinger and I flinched. He tipped my head up to look him in the eyes. My neck strained against him, but it was like he didn’t even feel the resistance. Once he was sure he had my attention, he held up the big golden trophy. He put both small hands on it, and then he crushed it. Not just crushed it, rolled the metal up into a ball like it was so much aluminum foil. The gold plated metal squelched and squeezed between his fingers like it was made of putty. He took the marble base in hand “Watch your eyes,” he said softly. Then the marble exploded under his grip, crushed to absolute dust and letting it fall to the floor. The whole remains of the trophy could fit in one of his palms. “Holy fuck,” I felt my big cock lurch in my pants. I didn’t like that feeling: I got hard dominating other muscle brutes. This little college pip—er, guy was not getting me hard. He wasn’t! But damn fuck, he was so strong. It was unbelievable. “Like I said, boy.” He reached out and started feeling my chest, rubbing his hand over the broad expanse of my pecs. “All this muscle is just for show, and I’m going to teach you some respect. And you’re going to thank me for it.” He pinched a nipple and I gasped, my hard cock dribbling some pre-cum into my shorts. “You’ve got some pretty tits, boy.” “I-I’m not… I don’t’… I don’t swing that way. I’m no queer.” I tried to call him pip-squeak but the word died on my tongue when I met his eye and saw the look of total possession in his eyes. I felt like I was going to come. “Now now,” he gently slapped my hand and I flinched again. This guy could have probably knocked my head off. “I don’t like it when my boys lie to me. You might try to hide it from your team, but I can see how much you like men. Probably never thought what you really needed was a real man to take control. I’m going to do that for you.” “No… I…” I gulped, he was now running his thumb over my lips, holding my face in one hand. I couldn’t budge, he was pushing me down so hard. Not that I could’ve stood up if I wanted to, my legs were still jello with how hard my cock was. “I’m a top…” “Not for long.” He stuck his thumb in my mouth. It pushed past my lips despite me keeping my mouth shut tight. He stroked the pad of his tongue gently over the tip of my tongue. My eyes started to close. No! I wasn’t going to put up with this! I bit down hard, at the same time I punched up with all my strength to nail him in the crotch. It wasn’t a clean fight, but I was fighting for my survival, here! My fist was again trapped, this time between his thighs. God, they felt like granite! It was the first time I happened to look at his crotch. Something in his loose khakis jumped. I thought I could just barely make out something snaking down his leg. This was all foreplay to him. Oh Christ! My eyes closed, my cock strained, leaking a wider wet spot on the front of my shorts. “No, no, boy.” He released my fist from between his rock hard thighs and resumed pushing his thumb into my mouth. I no longer tried to fight him, sucking on the thumb as a familiar feeling built up in my balls. “You don’t cum without permission.” “Can’t… can’t help it… gonna cum,” I said past the thumb in my mouth. “You mean this little pip-squeak is going to make you cum without even touching yourself?” “I’m sorry! Sorry I called you…. Unnnnf… pip-squeak!” “So you’re going to be a good boy, now?” It was so degrading, I was sucking on his thumb like it was the last thing I’d ever do, on my knees in my own office, harder than I’d ever been. I was so humiliated. I was so turned on. A part of me screamed to get up! I tried to spit the thumb out of my mouth, but of course I couldn’t. My big cock strained. “You can beat the shit out of me, but I’m never going to be your boy!” I said, though I couldn’t believe the voice that came out of me. I didn’t sound certain at all. But I could take a licking, my muscles weren’t for show. They weren’t! If I can’t beat this guy, I can take whatever he throws at me… couldn’t I? “You’re already my boy,” he laughed. He lightly slapped my face again. “You’re going to like this a lot more once you submit.” “Never!” Never? He pushed my head down till my face was right in the crotch of his slacks. I could catch his scent, being this close. God, it smelled like muscle sex. The kind of scent that takes over everything else in the room, the scent that sticks around when a powerful man’s gotten what he wants, whether it be a hard workout or a tight ass to fuck. My head was swimming, I couldn’t take my eyes off what I thought might be his cock, my shoulders relaxed and I sagged. I wanted to bury my nose between his legs, but I was so afraid to touch him. Partly because I was afraid what it would say about me, but I have to admit, it was mostly because I hadn’t been given permission. “I think you can be a good boy,” he lectured. “I’m the man to show you what a good boy you can be. I always get what I want, but I know you want it, too.” I didn’t even notice he had taken his hand off my head, I just stayed exactly where he put me. He stroked my hair. Like I was a fucking pet. “Don’t you?” I grunted, I didn’t know what I wanted, anymore. My grunt came out more as a gasp as his small hand massaged the back of my neck. “Use your words, boy. You want me.” “I… I…” “You what, boy?” “I do. I want it. Fuck, what the fuck is happening to me?” “You’re finding your place,” he chuckled. “And good boys get rewarded.” He pushed my face roughly into his crotch, I buried my nose in the fabric drawn tight by his hard-on. Fuck, that scent! I had my mouth open, gasping in the stud’s scent. I’d never felt anything like this. “You’re going to be a good boy?” “Yes. Yes!” My tongue lolled out of my mouth and I licked at his balls beneath the khakis. “Yes Sir!” “Tell me that you’re going to be a good boy.” “I’m going to be your good boy!” I said, loathe to take my mouth off his package. The next thing I knew, he was pulling back, I chased him with my tongue, but he held me back with a hand on my forehead. There was no way I could move, now. I whimpered. I whimpered? Oh fuck. “Stand up.” He stepped back and sat himself down in one of my chairs. I slowly got to my feet, I felt self-conscious. I felt defeated. I felt horny as hell. I tried to straighten my shoulders as I came to my full height, but looking at the stud smirking up at me made me cower a little bit. My big cock was peeking out the top of my shorts, and the wet spot had spread to the hem of my tight tank. “Time to learn how to show off those muscles for your man. Take off your clothes.” I stammered, but my hands were already working to pull my tank off of my torso. “Stop,” he said calmly, and I stopped immediately. “You’re going to show off. Don’t make me repeat myself, boy.” “Yes Sir.” The words just came out. I started again, running my hands over my rock hard stomach as it was exposed. This stud got turned on dominating me. Dominating me! I wanted to show him I was still hot, even if he was the better man in the room. I needed to prove I was worth something, even though I couldn’t match his strength. He had called me a show-off… god, he was right. Everything I wore, every way I acted, all to show off this body. This weak fucking body that had never been defeated before on the mat or otherwise. When my pecs were exposed, I cupped them each in my hands and flexed, running my fingers through the thick hair. He looked pleased and my cock jumped in excitement. I hadn’t had to impress anyone since I started wrestling in high school, wanting to prove myself to my coach. This was like that, but different. I always wanted my coach to respect me. I knew the stud sitting in front of me could never respect me like that. So what did I want? “You’re going to earn this cock after all, boy.” Fuck. His cock. My mouth started to water, but I couldn’t admit it to myself. “Turn around and take off those shorts.” “Yes Sir,” I said, turning around. I didn’t know what to do, if I wanted to earn his cock, I needed to show off. I’d never shown off my muscle ass before. Everyone was always focused on my huge cock. I pulled down the waistband of my shorts and sort of rocked my hips. God, would he be pleased by my ass? I had never felt so shy. But I’d been ordered. I slid the waistband down below my ass cheeks, the were being held up just by my powerful thighs. I reached back with a trembling hand and took hold of one of my muscled ass cheeks, giving it a squeeze. “All the way off, boy.” I slid my shorts the rest of the way down, I wasn’t wearing underwear, so now I stood in my own office buck naked at the command of the 5’9” stud who had to be the strongest person in the world. The stud who had made me his boy. I looked down and saw how red and hard my cock was. I just knew he’d be impressed by my cock… maybe he’d just want to suck it and then he’d let me get dressed. I could still pretend like this never happened. “Everything’s changed, now, boy.” His voice gave me chills. He was right. There was no going back. This man was going to lead me wherever he wanted me to be. “Turn around.” I slowly turned around. He was leaning back in his chair, running his hand over the fat bulge in his pants. He looked me up and down like he was choosing a steak. Then he stood up. He pointed to the ground in front of him and I scrambled to kneel there, back in range of his manly fucking scent. “Guess what this man is going to have his little boy do next?” He said, voice low with lust. “S-suck your cock?” I asked, almost begging. “Good boy.” He unzipped his pants and pushed them down, pulling aside the band off his underwear too. I could see the base of his cock, bent uncomfortably into his pants. He was… thick. He was so fucking thick! He had to fish into his pants and cant his hips to free the rest of his cock, hauling it out and letting it bob in front of my face. He wasn’t fully hard yet, and his cock was the biggest I’d ever seen. Even in porn. Even in my wildest dreams, I didn’t have a cock that big. “Holy fuck…” I gasped. There was a glimmer of pre-cum on the tip where it was peeking out of his foreskin. As I watched in awe, his cock raised up to finally harden at an angle to his torso. How the fuck could he even hold that thing up? I reached up to touch it, mesmerized. “Not till your told.” And I lowered my hand again. I moved to take hold of my own dick, but stopped because I hadn’t been ordered to. Instead I tried to focus on that scent, flooding my senses now that his pants were open. He took his cock in hand, his small hands couldn’t even close around the base. How did he jack off? I gulped when I realized he probably didn’t need to jerk off. This man used a boy when he needed to get off. I was the latest conquest. Fuck! He lifted his cock and slapped my face with it, hard, five times. The fleshy bat whacked against my cheeks, left a streak of pre-cum in my stubble. I didn’t realize I had opened my mouth until his cock slapped against my tongue. “If I wanted to, I could knock you across the room just by swinging my big cock at your face.” I didn’t feel threatened, I felt electrified. Imagined what it’d be like to be knocked to the ground just by a real man’s cock. “You know what to do.” Oh god, I did know what to do! “Please, Sir, can I suck—can I worship your fucking huge fucking cock?” I bravely looked up into his eyes, he was smiling at me affectionately. There was no challenge in his gaze. I was no challenge to him at all. “That mouth is mine,” he declared. I stuck out my tongue and nodded hastily. “Prove it.” I fell on his cock like I was starving for it, trying to fit the head in my mouth. It was hard as steel and pulsing against my tongue once I got it in. But the head wasn’t even the thickest part of his cock, and my lips were stretched as he pushed in. There was nothing I could do to stop him, so I tried to please him. Tried to wriggle my tongue into his foreskin, I got a thick taste of this MAN. The head of his cock battered into the back of my throat and I whimpered. I wanted to prove I could take him all the way. I wanted him to make me take him all the way. He was taking pleasure from me faster than I could willingly give it to him. It was true domination. My little dick lurched and my balls churned. He lifted the hem of his loose polo and I balked. The incredible hair at the base of his monster cock led up into a treasure trail of blonde hairs up to his belly button, and what appeared to be the deepest cut abs I’d ever seen. I couldn’t believe it, he was so small and looked so skinny. I reached up to brace myself on his thighs and once against felt the steel hard strands of his muscle there too. I whined because I thought I was going to cum right there. But I couldn’t: I hadn’t been ordered! “Starting to get an idea of what real power looks like, little boy,” he lectured, taking control and pushing his cock into my throat, gagging me. “Who’s choking whom, now, boy?” I choked and gasped and my eyes watered as that big head pushed deeper in my throat. “You’re pretty inexperienced at giving blow-jobs, but the enthusiasm is appreciated. Don’t worry. This Man’s going to make sure you learn what you need to learn. No matter how long it takes.” My head was swimming and I was almost losing consciousness, but I was so grateful he was going to train me how to take his cock. He pulled out and I hollowed out my cheeks trying to keep his monster cock in my mouth desperately, but of course I was no match for him. He pulled out and his cock was now shining with spit. He reached his hand down, gently collected one of my tears on his thumb, then fed it to me. I sucked onto his thumb like I was auditioning to be his cocksucker. “That’s a good boy. Crying around my cock.” He pulled out his thumb and put his leaking cockhead back against my lips. “If your team could see you now. Showed you your place.” God imagining my team watching me! It wasn’t fair, though! They didn’t know what it was like to serve a real man! Anyone would go to his knees for this stud! I was lucky he chose me as his next notch. Team be damned if they couldn’t understand that! I sucked his cock again vigorously, but it wasn’t long before he took control again, fucking my face. Tracing the outline of his cockhead in my throat with one teasing finger. I just drooled and cried and whined. “Not a man. Just a fucktoy,” he laughed after a few minutes, once I finally pressed my wet face against his steel hard hips, his cock completely inside me. We stayed like that for a moment, him grinding my nose into his pubes, that scent causing my throat to lock down and massage his shaft. “I know just how to play with you to get what I want.” He reached down and twisted my nipple on my bigger but weaker tits with his small fingers. I whimpered and tried to stick out my tongue to wash his balls while he dominated my mouth. He pulled out and left me coughing, but staring him in the eye, tongue out, ready to be used again. “There’s something you want to say to me, isn’t there, bitch boy?” “Yes Sir…” “Say it.” “Th-thank you, Sir! Thank you for making me your f-f-fuck toy.” “And what else?” “Use me however you want,” my chest heaved as I took in sharp breaths. My naked body was coated in a sheen of sweat, big tits rising up and down, muscle packed stomach pushing in and out. “Didn’t I tell you I get what I want?” “Yes Sir!” Despite being so much bigger, I had never felt so small. This freshman college kid, barely had stubble on his face, was using me as his private fuck toy, and I loved it! In the next moment he had hauled me to my feet. He pulled his shirt off and I marveled at his body. He was rock hard everywhere. His biceps were small and cut, his chest was so hard I could see every striation of his taut muscle. It looked like his nipples could cut glass. I mumbled out a feeble ‘Oh Sir!’ and longed to touch him, but I hadn’t been ordered. He stooped and put his arm between my legs, flexing his rock solid bi against my taint, lifting me off the ground with one arm like I was lighter than a feather. “I’m going to use that hole, boy. Going to make sure that pussy I own is trained before I go.” “Oh fuck!” He carried me across the room, my feet dangling between his legs. I was going to cum! I was going to cum! But I couldn’t, I had to impress him, I had to prove myself to be a good bitch. I knew I’d never cum again without thinking about this stud. He set me down on the remainders of my desk, laid me on my back like a Daddy putting down his baby boy. “Want to see your face the first time I use my fuck hole.” I screamed when his lubed up cockhead slid past the ring of my ass. He was moving so slow, but his entry was totally inevitable. I clenched down my hole, I tried so hard to open up for him, but my body knew what he really wanted: to conquer my ass the same way he conquered my muscles. And he did, he slid into me without stopping until he was buried to the hilt. My world exploded with pain, but my cock drooled more pre onto my hairy abs. “That’s what I like to see. Don’t worry, bitch, your Daddy’s got you.” He laughed and slid his cock slowly out before pushing back in. All of the sudden the pain disappeared. I felt full. So incredibly full, like I’d never been. God what had I been missing not bottoming before now? But it didn’t matter, I knew nobody could ever fill me up like this ever again. What use was there bottoming to inferior men? But what use was there pretending to be a top anymore, either? Oh god, he changed me! The head of his cock brushed against my prostate with each push in, and I moaned like a whore. I fought to keep my eyes open—he wanted to see my eyes while he plowed me—but it was so hard. He reached up and twisted my nips again, I clenched down hard on his shaft. He was playing me like an instrument, knew just how to make me give him more pressure, knew how to open me up. He knew me better than I knew myself, he knew how to make sure he got what he wanted out of a willing bitch. That was me. Christ, that was me! I was his bitch! “Thank you Sir!” I shouted out as he powered in and out of me. “I know, bitch boy. I know.” God I loved that cocky smirk, it made me blush and made my hole pulse just seeing it. God I’d dream about looking down the length of my built body to see this Alpha smirking down on me. He fucked me for what felt like hours. It got dark outside and he was still coaching me on how to be a better bitch for him, still twisting my nips and slapping my face, spanking my ass until it was red. Anything he had to do to make me tighten my pussy here or open it up here. No matter how much I clenched down it must feel like nothing to that strongman cock, but I tried anyway. “Lucky you can’t get pregnant, boy. Cuz I’m going to shoot such a load in you.” “Breed me! Please Sir!” “I know you want it, my dirty little whore. Know what a slut you are for my big cock and huge load.” He stroked the fur on my abs. I was sobbing now, eyes foggy with tears. I’d never felt anything so good. “I fucking need it, Sir! Need it… need it…” “I know. Trust Daddy.” “Yes, Daddy!” God he was everything. He changed his angle and started ramming into a new spot inside me. My little dick lurched, my balls drew up. “Cum, bitch. Now,” he commanded. I obeyed. It felt so good to obey! I shouted and hit myself in the face with the load that rocketed out of my dick. My face was dripping and I was crying softly and trying to catch my breath when the last spurt landed on my tits. “Little load from a little boy,” he growled, every muscle on his perfect torso was flexing in sharp relief. Maybe someday he would let me worship his chest… “Here I cum, bitch.” “Please, Daddy! His body went rigid and his eyes closed, then I felt a warm, wet pressure in my pussy as he bred me. God he was shooting so hard, buried to the hilt inside me, making room for his cum. He thrust as he came, making the desk screech across the floor with me on it. If I felt full before, it was nothing compared to this. After nine hard shots, he pulled his cock out of my pussy and it fountained cum up into the air and down onto my chest, my face, into my mouth. I could feel the cum pouring out of my stretched hole while cum rained down on me, burning hot. I clenched my hole to keep it inside, and I stuck out my tongue. When he stopped shooting, his cock was still hard, rampant and huge compared to my own softening little dick. He chuckled again and smirked down at me. He let my legs fall and strode over to the other side of the desk. He yanked me so my head hung down off the desk upside down, then he put the wet head of his cock between my lips and I sucked and sucked and tried to clean him as best I could. He played with my nipples like I’d been a good pet. When he pulled his cock from between my lips, he strode over to where I’d dropped my clothes. He picked up my tank top and used it to dry the rest of the spit and cum off his cock, dried off his sweaty balls. “You’ll wear that tank tomorrow to work. I suspect you’re never going to want to wash this thing, anymore.” I was so weak I could barely muster a ‘yes sir.’ But I did, because that’s what my owner expected. “I plan on using that pussy again, bitch boy. And I might not be so gentle next time. Keep that pussy ready for me.” With that, he walked back to the door and bent the frame back into place, opening the door and walking out like nothing had happened. He left the door open. It was good almost everyone had gone home, otherwise they would have seen me lying naked and soaked and leaking cum, without the strength to even cross the floor of my ruined office and close the door.
  15. YoungHunk69

    m/m Freshmen Part 2

    (Continued from part 1) I stood in the bathroom doorway, feeling my huge muscled body become warm as Anthony gaped in awe from his bed. Anthony’s hunky form was now tiny compared to my immensely built figure, which towered a whole head above him. He eagerly looked me up and down, his eyes pausing hungrily at the outline of the massive package in my briefs. “Whoa, Adrian,” he finally managed, swallowing wetly. His dick became hard in his camo lycra underwear, and he began to rub it slowly. “You like it?” I said, smiling cockily. I walked in front of where he was sitting, and he placed his left hand on my huge chest. “Oh yes,” he responded, sliding his hand over my abs in amazement as he stroked his dick over his briefs. He slowly stood up and ran both hands over my body with a grin, and then began licking my pecs and abs with his long, juicy tongue. “Ohhhhh...” I groaned in pleasure as his soft lips enclosed my hard nipple, and I started flexing vainly. He moved down my body until he reached my briefs, nuzzling the thick cock inside playfully with his tongue. My soft 13 inch dick dripped cum that seeped through the briefs, and Anthony happily lapped it up. He pulled down my briefs, unleashing the enormous floppy monster, which he immediately started licking, running his saliva from base to tip over and over again. I lied on my back on the bed, and Anthony followed, crawling over me with his butt in the air like a submissive twink. He opened his mouth wide and grabbed my giant throbbing meat with two hands. Repeatedly, he throated my horse cock, each time getting it further in. ”Ohhhh fuck yeah!” I yelled, and grabbed Anthony’s spiky-haired head, moving it up and down, feeling the sticky, wet, amazing heat that emanated from my cock fill my entire body. Sliding my still soft drool and cum-covered dick out of his throat, I powerfully grabbed his toned hips and flipped him over so that his thick ass was facing me. I instantly tore his underwear off and stuck my tongue into his hole, licking the rim of his pussy in delight. My cock was getting harder, and was now almost 17 inches, red and covered in pencil-thick veins. I plunged the monster into the gaping hole before me, feeling the hot flesh enveloped by Anthony’s body. He cried out in delight, jerking off his own cock as I thrusted and pulled my immense meat in and out of his hole wetly, its length increasing in full to two feet hard. Impossibly, my whole dick fit entirely inside of Anthony as unimaginable pleasure rolled through my core. “Unnnnnhhhhh!” I moaned, thrusting in and out and in and out and in, back and forth and back and forth. Feeling myself about to unload, I couldn’t bring myself to take my cock out. It was too fucking good. This one was going to be much bigger than the first, I could tell, as I felt cum rushing to the head of my monstrous dick. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” I shouted, and then my giant fucking cock exploded with cum, spewing and spurting it into Anthony, who was violently jolting, his eyes pointing up and his mouth wide open. “YESSSS!” he cried out, clenching the bedsheets tightly as his body filled with my sticky warm cum. Suddenly, he began to undergo a transformation, his muscles pulsing and bulging out, his already hunky body becoming even more jacked. His cock swelled and extended with each stroke, and his ass popped beautifully forth with my dick still inside. “Holy fuck!” I cried, realizing the serum I drank must have transferred into my cum, and that I had just given Anthony a full dose of it. I pulled my cock out of his ass, letting my heavy wet meat fall back down with a loud slap against my legs. I was even more surprised when I realized that I had shrunk a little, my cock no longer reached past my knees, but hung instead just above my knees. My muscles were still athletic, but they weren’t monstrous, like Anthony’s, which had swollen into the huge hulkish body I had previously. Anthony and I had traded muscle. “Hey!” I cried angrily, as Anthony looked at his new muscles in the mirror. “You stole that body from me!” “I didn’t try to do that,” he responded, tugging at his massive cock gleefully. “At least you aren’t as skinny as before. Look.” He pointed at my body, which was as hunky as Anthony was before. My dick was still at least 10 inches soft, and I was perfectly toned. My muscles were big, without being awkwardly huge, so I looked like an underwear model. Because of my reduced muscle size, I could now fit into my clothes, and although they were tight, they revealed my muscles attractively. My arms and shoulders were hugged closely by the shirt, and my pants bulge was mouthwateringly bouncy in my gym shorts. My perky pecs and stone-hard abs were visible under my red t-shirt, which was now a little too short but showed off my amazing v-lines perfectly. Anthony, however, was unable to fit into any of his clothes. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked, rummaging through his underwear drawer, which was filled with speedos, thongs, and jockstraps. “I don’t know,” I responded, shrugging, “maybe you could find someone with extra large clothes and “borrow” them.” “I can’t leave this room!” he said exasperatedly, trying on a tank top that ripped instantly. “You’ll have to do it for me, Adrian.” I paused and tried to think of someone who had extra large clothing. “Hey,” I said, “what about the gym coach? I heard that he’s basically a bodybuilder.” “Good idea,” Anthony answered as a speedo snapped beneath the weight of his engorged horse cock. The next day, I entered the locker room determined to bring Anthony one of the gym coach’s outfits, and I ran into a familiar, stupid face. Jason Tyler, who I now looked slightly down at, bumped into me as I made my way toward the coach’s office. “Hey, idiot! Watch where you’re-“ he began to say, but stopped as soon as he realized it was me. “Adrian? What the fuck?” He looked astoundedly at my physique, which now exceeded his in almost every way imaginable. “How the hell did-“ “Get out of my way, Jason,” I said firmly, pushing him aside with an effortless swat of my hand. I continued heading toward the gym coach’s office, but Jason confronted me again. “Wait a goddamn second!” he shouted furiously. “You can’t just shove me like that, I’m-“ I cut him short by pulling his shorts down, revealing a very hard dick. One of his friends who was watching said “What the hell, Jason. Are you fucking gay?” With bright red cheeks, he said “No! Stop it! I’m fucking like five girls at the same time! Shut up!” I stepped on his pants to prevent him from pulling them up, and whipped out my 10-inch cock, saying “Who’s got the better dick now, Jason?” He gawked at my dick, a small trail of saliva falling from his mouth. “Fuck...” he said slowly, and as his friends walked away, I grabbed his shoulder and shoved him into a nearby bathroom stall and locked the door behind me. Instantly, he began to suck my cock, his lips moving quickly back and forth over my long shaft. I ran my fingers through his wavy blond hair, feeling his fleshy throat and his quivering tongue repeatedly sliding across my meaty cock. I laughed with delight when I saw that he was already cumming, and before I shot my load I decided to stop. Jason wasn’t worth it, and I wasn’t about to let him steal my hot body from me. I squeezed my cock back into my incredibly snug shorts, and pushed Jason out of the stall, where his friends were waiting to laugh mercilessly at him, as they had heard everything and seen under the stall doors. As Jason fumed from the locker room, hounded by his cronies, I walked over to the coach’s office. I knocked on the door, and heard a loud baritone voice gruffly boom “Come in!” I opened the door to find the coach sitting in a chair with his back to me, pumping a dumbbell with his left hand, his huge bicep expanding like a balloon with every flex. “Hey, um, coach,” I began nervously, intimidated by the sheer size of his bicep. ”Call me Coach Tyler,” he bellowed back, setting his dumbbell on the ground and rising to his full, nearly 7 and a half foot height. I gulped, trembling with fear, when suddenly it dawned on me; Jason was Coach Tyler’s son. I was in big trouble. (To be continued)
  16. YoungHunk69

    m/m Freshmen Part 3

    (Continued from part 2) “Well what do you want?” Coach Tyler roared, his eyes sizing me up hungrily. He was an immensely built bodybuilder that towered over me, with godlike features that looked as if they were sculpted from marble. He was roughly 34, with a head of wavy brown hair and an almost adonis-like stubbled face which commanded respect with its stern appearance. I responded with a quiet and hesitant stammer, entranced by the pure slabs of muscle that bulged and strained against his black tank top. “I was just c-curious if I could b-b-borrow... some clothes.” His face racked with suspicion, Coach Tyler asked “what do you need MY clothes for?” He scoffed with amusement. “They’d be much too big for you.” I nodded my head shakily. “I know, sir. But my friend Anthony... umm... lost all his clothes, and he’s your size.” I felt myself craving Coach’s thick cock, its veiny outline snaking down to his knees, cradled by his snug sweatpants. My eyes followed the girthy monster’s throbbing curve down to its massive head with a ravenous gaze. Coach must’ve noticed my lustful eyes getting lost in the length of his cock, because his expression of annoyance slowly changed to one of smug satisfaction. “I think I have what you’re looking for in here,” he said, gesturing toward the door to the gym storage room. I entered, Coach following in behind and shutting the door. The room was slightly bigger than a supply closet, with shelves of jerseys, wrestling uniforms, gym shorts, and jock straps surrounding me on each wall. Turning to face Coach, my athletically perky pecs brushing up against his huge stony abs, I asked “Now if you don’t mind, where are the clothes I can borrow?” He looked down at me with a smile, placing his large hands on my broadly muscled shoulders. “You have to earn them first.” He removed his tank top, displaying his mountainous crests of muscle that burst forth from his torso. Then suddenly a strange sensation came over me. I began to feel warm and compliant, as if a wave of calm obedience had washed over my entire body. I wanted Coach. I needed Coach’s meaty dick inside of me, filling me with delicious gooey cum. I instantly fell to my knees and started nuzzling Coach’s package over his sweatpants, tracing out the entire 16 inches with my tongue. I grabbed the waistband of his pants and slowly pulled them down to the floor, revealing a pair of struggling white briefs that were weighed significantly down by the heavy giant that clung tightly to the elastic. I yanked Coach’s underwear off next, freeing his beastly cock, which swung heavily below his knees, his plump, melon-sized balls swinging along with it. Opening my mouth as wide as possible, I guided the horse cock into my throat. I felt Coach’s hand grab my hair and pull my head up and down the length of his enormous, juicy dick. It was the thickest and longest cock I had ever sucked, and yet it was still soft. I gagged with erotic delight as he forced it repeatedly down my throat. Then, Coach pulled my head up, allowing his huge drool-soaked monster to fall back between his legs. “Time to turn around boy,” he ordered with a grin. “Yes daddy!” I replied breathlessly, beginning to remove my shirt. Before I could do so, Coach grabbed my shirt by the collar and ripped it cleanly off my torso, revealing the muscular swimsuit model body I had borrowed from Anthony. He immediately managed to tear off both my shorts and boxer-briefs as well, and just like that, I was butt-naked, my floppy 10-inch dick slowly beginning to harden. I seductively bent over as Coach placed his monstrous wet schlong between my firm cheeks, gently teasing it over my round candy ass. The playful frottage was making my cock to leak a warm stream of precum. Without warning, Coach slammed his meat deep inside me, causing every muscle in my body to tense up, my mouth to fall wide open, and my every last vein to bulge under the surface of my skin. Grunting and groaning, he pounded me roughly with his meat-monster again and again. He grabbed my jockboy body with his powerful hands and slammed me into his gigantic cock. It was reaching impossibly far into me, as the feeling of pleasure was infinitely increasing. “Ohhhhhh, fuuck daddy! Yessss!” I moaned as I lost complete control. I cummed over and over again, having orgasm after orgasm, until it reached the point where I could not stop cumming. I was experiencing what felt like a million simultaneous orgasms, the result of which was one constant flood of cum. It felt amazing, so incredibly amazing, that I just wanted him to fuck me until my asshole was destroyed. Then Coach’s humongous cock exploded with sticky warm cum, filling every single crevice in my body with the substance. I could feel his cum in my belly, in my chest, in my legs and arms, and I could even taste in in my mouth. His cum became my cum, as it flowed from his dick, through my body, and then out of my dick with the force of a hose, painting the storage room walls with the oozing clear juice. Something was very special about Coach Tyler’s cum. I could feel it inside of me, mixing with the serum I drank yesterday to form a new substance that was changing me somehow. I looked at my body, and everything appeared normal. I still had the same sexy musclepup body, with my popping chest and my washboard eight-pack. I was still hung as a horse with my long fat cock swaying between my legs, but I knew that something felt... different. I was more confident, more sure of myself, I felt sexier. I was an alpha wolf, a muscle king, a god of male beauty, and I deserved to be treated as such. I picked myself up from the floor, observing my cum-covered muscles glisten in the dim light of the storage room. I used some of the cum to smooth my hair back, looked up at Coach, and asked “So can I borrow some clothes now?” “Looks like you’re gonna need double the clothes,” he said with a gruff chuckle, pointing at my ripped shirt, shorts, and boxer briefs. “Don’t worry about me,” I said confidently. I grabbed a red one-piece wrestling uniform off a nearby shelf, and slid my hunky legs in first, followed by my shredded torso and and broadly-muscled chest. My cock bulged beautifully against the smooth lycra, which left no detail up to the imagination. “Anyway, I need an outfit of yours for my friend.” Coach laughed arrogantly. “I don’t keep any other clothes here at school,” he said huskily, “and anyway, I could give a shit about your friend. Clothes are expensive. I’m not just gonna hand over one of my outfits for free.” At that moment, Jason Tyler burst into the room, and, seeing his father standing naked in front of me, shouted “Dad! What the fuck are you doing!” Jason stomped over to stand between us and looked at his father with embarrassed horror, spluttering and stammering but not saying a full word. “Stop that, Jason,” Coach Tyler bellowed angrily, “you’re only making a fool of yourself.” The two began to argue heatedly, and I took my chance. I grabbed Coach’s clothes from the floor and bolted out the door of the storage room. “HEY! WAIT!” I heard Coach boom from behind me, but he was unable to follow, since it would’ve meant charging naked through the building. As I headed for the locker room exit, my entire body brimmed with a suave energy, and I began to notice that everyone in the men’s locker room had turned their eyes to look at my outstanding physique. Every guy, no matter how straight, feasted their gaze upon my perfect muscular body and my large bouncy bulge. Coach must’ve had some sort of allurement power that he transferred to me unknowingly, because all of the locker room jocks got boners when they saw my sagging cock through the wrestling uniform. As I walked back to my dorm with Coach’s clothes under my left arm, every guy I passed stared with arousal at my firm plump ass, and I looked back with a sexy grin in response. When I returned to the dorm room, I knocked on the door, and Anthony’s cute face peeked out with caution. “Adrian? Thank god you’re here! I’ve probably missed so many classes!” I stepped inside to find Anthony’s hunky, naked body waiting for me. Only he wasn’t the muscle giant he had been that morning, he had returned to his original twunk body. In other words, Anthony and I now had exactly the same amount of muscle, we were the same height, and we both had soft 10-inch dicks. “What happened?” I asked, looking him up and down, and dropping the Coach’s clothes on the ground. “What do you mean?” he asked confusedly. “You shrunk!” I explained. Anthony looked at his body with an expression of realization. “Holy shit! You’re right! I didn’t even notice because I was napping all day!” “How did this happen?” I pondered, “What did you do before your nap?” “Well...” Anthony began with a pained expression of embarrassment, “my new hot muscles just made me so horny that I had to jerk off, so I stroked my dick like five times before I got too tired to continue.” “You must’ve cummed out all the serum that was inside you, which made you lose the muscle,” I explained. “I didn’t lose my muscle because-” Suddenly Anthony began to caress and feel my muscles, sliding his hands over the lycra wrestling uniform. “I’m sorry,” Anthony said, squeezing my bulging cock with one hand while feeling my pecs with the other, “I don’t know what’s come over me. I just have an uncontrollable urge to worship you.” “I know what’s come over you,” I responded, stripping off the wrestling uniform. “It’s a little gift that Coach left for me.” “I love it,” Anthony said, and he grabbed me by my cock and pulled me down on top of him on the bed. I fucked him deep into the night, and then we fell asleep cuddling. We went on our first date the next day, but it didn’t matter because we had already fallen in love. The End Epilogue: Coach Tyler was probably arrested for exposing himself to a student. PS: Sorry I have to end this series so soon, I have a boyfriend now, so I have less time to do this. Goodbye for now!
  17. roboprobo

    m/m Bro Fam

    Eventually, you RELISHED your growth going out of control. Sure, you'd officially flunked out of your second year of college but economic analytics was harder than you anticipated... Thankfully, you were very lucky to have such a strong group of bros to support you. And they certainly did- when you initially told them you'd wanted to start working out more seriously, they actually gave you bags of supplements and 'lifestyle' tapes. The tapes were weird (all about 'motivation', working out, or dieting) and even when you always found yourself waking up towards the end of them you'd watch them religiously. Hell, the guys eventually started making your meals for you, too and it didn't take long for the gym to become second nature for you. You got BIG. Your confidence burst through the roof and you were cocky or even mean; you deserved it! Nobody could have gotten as jacked as you, nor as strong. Regardless, you were always kind to your bros. They were the ones making you big, too. Hell, after a while you started feeling like they worshiped you, in a weird, communal way. Each one would bring you a can of weird beer of a brand you couldn't pronounce and of course you'd end up shotgunning it as a challenge. At some point doorways were becoming a challenge due to your width- that's when the guys would laugh at your wide, stumbling gait but still help you get upstairs to bed. The side effects made EVERYTHING bigger. Some of the bros bought you new shoes every time your feet started getting cramped in your current pair. One day you'd dozed off again after a weird lifestyle tape, waking up with an excess of morning wood and one of your younger buddies sucking on your long toes. You felt embarrassed but there was something about when he asked you to flex for him that kept you laying comfortably on your increasingly smaller bed. He'd ask you questions about wanting your growth and if you liked it; you'd answer with honesty as you milked your fat cock, his chuckle making you smile naively as he moved to massage your huge feet and massive legs. You were getting massive and it felt awesome! All you could really think about was getting bigger and having fun with your bros. After a while it wasn't weird at all to find yourself flexing or working out in the basement, naked, and you consistently found yourself serving the guys however they asked. You almost cried when the school told you you'd failed all your classes; you couldn't even remember the last time you'd even gone. The guys told you it didn't matter, you could still live at the house and to not even sign up for another semester if you didn't want to. So you didn't bother with school. Hell, you used to consider yourself a rather smart guy but nowadays you could barely keep up with complex conversations your bros have at home. The guys would laugh when you gave a ditsy comment and tell you to show of your tits instead. You'd happily peel up (or ripped off) your shirt, showing off your massive pecs. You loved showing off, after all! They called you a good 'himbo' and directed you to administer twice the doses of supplements you were accustomed too. You explained to them your pectorals were seemingly increasing size even faster than the rest of your body, feeling sore almost every day. They gladly began giving you more thorough daily 'massages'. Nowadays you find yourself practically shaking the earth beneath your heavy steps, your quads and hams so wide you have to move in an awkward waddle. Your time is religiously spent in the basement gym or with your loving bros. Sure, they graduate and new ones come in, but you always find tight relationships with them. The guys worship your massive, sweaty body and always make sure you're well-taken care of. You've lost track of how many years have gone by and sometimes wonder if you're not really getting any older, either. You're fucking huge. Sometimes the guys are sweeter and love letting you strut around with a proper alpha male cockiness. Others are meaner, tricking you into tight situations or letting your huge pecs go without milking for days at a time, letting you murmur in discomfort like a proper bull in heat as your pecs start looking overdeveloped even for your massive frame. A rare few actually manage to fit your huge cockhead in their mouths. Some manage to fit you inside them (dangerously) but most often you enjoy feeling a bro sniffing and lapping your hairy, muscled pucker before stretching it out with their fat bro cock. For as much as you have to eat, absorbing protein through your bros' thick cocks is a benefit you gladly enjoy. There isn't often a party where you turn down a proper pose down, letting all the guys worship you as they pump you full of beer and cock.
  18. It was my first day of college, and I decided I was done being pushed around because of my small size and skinny stature. I wasn’t going to be called stringbean, pussy, or tadpole anymore. This is it, I thought, I will finally change into the huge fucking hunk of my wettest dreams. And so, early in the morning before class, I had taken it upon myself to visit the campus gym. As I approached the building, I could see through the windows that there were some seriously jacked bodybuilders in there, pumping muscle with gigantic weights as if they were as light as a pencil. I walked inside and began to lift weights, heaving with all my might but getting quickly exhausted after two sets of fifteen reps. I gazed over at a dreamy shredded twink in a blue tank top, whose veiny arms and hard pecs thrusted as he did deadlifts. He had scruffy brown hair, an amazing jawline, and intense blue eyes that were complimented by the beautiful eyebrows that sat on top of them. He was wearing a pair of gray sweatshorts that cradled his big bouncing ass tightly, and as he turned around, I almost slobbered when laying eyes on the thick, long outline of his huge cock. Seeing me staring at him, he smiled devilishly, put down his weights and walked towards me, his big dick shaking with every step. “Hey,” he said as he sat on the bench next to me, “can I help you with anything?” Realizing my mouth was wide open, I said, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” Feeling my average-sized dick hardening in my gym shorts, I crossed my legs, and tried not blush, but I failed. ”It’s okay,” he replied, “you’d be surprised how often that happens.” His sweaty musk smelled so alluring. ”I wouldn’t be that surprised,” I responded, licking my lips and looking once more at his dick, which was creeping out of his shorts. “My name’s Anthony,” he said, smoothing back his spiky hair, “what’s yours?” ”I’m Adrian,” I replied, feeling warmth spreading to every place on my body, and desire inching up my throat. I was about to reach out and run my hand gently over his biceps, when he glanced at his watch. “Oh wow! Sorry, I’m gonna be late to class!” he exclaimed, and bolted out the door, his butt swaying perfectly behind him as he left. Sighing, I returned to my pointless weightlifting, wishing hopelessly that I could suck his cock and fuck his ass. He would never agree to that, though, I thought, looking sadly at my nonexistent pecs and completely flat stomach. Later, in the afternoon, I saw Anthony exiting the locker room as I walked in. He nodded at me cockily, and I nervously smiled back, wanting to say something flirty, but before I could he had rounded the corner. I cursed myself silently and entered the boys locker room. I always hated gym class. I mean, you can’t blame me, a scrawny little white gay kid with barely a hair on my chest, for hating gym. The locker rooms were torture, watching all the ripped straight guys casually removing their boxers in front of me and walking around with their donkey cocks flopping all over the place. They were like stupid alpha wolfs, bantering about which girls they were going to fuck next, comparing their dick sizes, pulling each other’s pants down and laughing hysterically. As I furtively approached my locker, Jason Tyler, who’d gone to my high school, grabbed the waist of my briefs and tugged them towards the ground, snickering maliciously. Jason was a blond dumb jock, with a rock-hard eight-pack that he showed off like a peacock. “Hey, Adrian!” he called stupidly as his cronies gathered around. “Nice four inches of steel you got there,” he mocked, pointing at my fully visible hard-on with glee. ”It’s actually five inches,” I corrected, immediately regretting my decision to say anything. I pulled my briefs back on, which hardly did anything to hide my obvious boner. “Sure,” Jason remarked with a sneer. “Have you seen my eight inches?” he asked, whipping his dick out at me with a grin. “They’re fucking mind-blowing!” As he walked away, whooping like a buffoon, I angrily gave him the middle finger, but he didn’t notice, as he had already begun picking on some other guy. That evening, as I slowly and forlornly walked to my dorm hall across campus, I remembered my goal of the year, to not end up being pushed around, and I glumly frowned, for it seemed as though I would fail miserably. As I entered my dorm building, I discovered a small card pinned to the noticeboard in the entryway. It said “Utterly flabby? Grossly skinny? Want to become a sexier you without fake pills or exhausting exercise? Then come to The Erotic Magic Shop on the corner of Hillsbury and Cedar. We’ve got what you want.” Intrigued, I put the card in my pocket and began to exit the building when I ran smack into Anthony, who was standing in the doorway. ”Oh! Sorry!” I said with a slight tinge of pleasure from feeling his stony abs press up against me. For a brief moment, I could sense his thick meat push onto my dick, and my shorts became moist with precum. ”That was my fault,” Anthony said with a cute smile, his hunky forearms glistening with perspiration in the early evening sunlight. “Where are you going?” “I’m new to this area,” I replied, scratching the back of my neck, “so I don’t quite know. Where is Hillsbury and Cedar?” He proceeded to describe the directions, but I kept goggling at his fucking hot body and his bulging cock, my mouth watering for the warm shot of cum that it would release. After sheepishly explaining that I wasn’t listening, he laughed robustly and agreed to walk with me there. As we walked, I tried not to gawk at his gorgeously muscled torso, or his firm but deliciously bubbly ass, with curved cheeks that rose and fell with each stride, but I couldn’t resist the occasional lustful glimpse. We arrived at the Erotic Magic Shop, finding it ramshackle and decrepit, the sign almost eroded completely off. I told Anthony that he was welcome to go back, and he returned to our shared dorm building, saying that he had to finish some homework. Despite the closed sign on the door, I went in, finding it strangely unlocked. It was dark, dusty, and full of boxes piled as high as the ceiling. “Hello?” I called, to no response. As I was passing down an aisle of boxes, I heard what I thought was someone whispering my name. Adrian, it said. Adrian... I followed it to the far corner of the room, where a small flask with a clear green liquid sat on a table, labeled only with the words “Drink me.” Suddenly I thought I heard footsteps on the other side of a stack of boxes, and, snatching the flask, I dashed out the door and ran hastily back to my dorm. Entering my room, I was surprised to find that Anthony was my roommate. He was sprawled shirtless on his back, laying in camo lycra boxer-briefs on his bed with a book in his hand. The head of his cock was protruding from the protesting briefs, with a drip of precum hanging from his dickhole. His broad shoulders stretched out across the mattress, and his chiseled abs moved slowly with his breathing. ”Wow! We’re... roommates?” I asked excitedly, seating myself on my bed, which was next to his. ”Yeah,” Anthony said with a boyish grin, literally struggling to keep his dick in his briefs. “Isn’t this great?” Smiling anxiously, I ran into the bathroom and locked the door, taking off my jacket and t-shirt. My shorts soon followed, leaving me in my undershirt and briefs. Then I grabbed the flask of green liquid from the pocket of my shorts. I immediately gulped down all of the liquid and stood in front of a full-length mirror, feeling ridiculous just waiting for something to happen. Then I felt it. All throughout my nerves, I felt a tingling sensation of sexual desire. My whole body began to throb with pleasure like a dick blowing its load, and I trembled and shuddered with orgasmic joy. “Fucccckkk!” I cried with ecstasy as I noticed my feet growing larger and veinier in front of my eyes, my toes slowly jutting out. Next my calves began to grow, the swelling creeping up my legs until my thighs and quadriceps had erupted with layers of smooth muscle as well. Then my torso quivered in excitement as my flat stomach shredded into a perfect eight-pack of washboard abs visible beneath my undershirt, which I lifted up, running my hand over my chiseled abs in erotic awe. Suddenly, full round pecs sprang forward out of my chest, ripping the undershirt down the middle and rising like mountains. Hard nipples pointed from their peaks, which lactated milk that oozed like cum down my body. My arms followed, biceps bulging out with a pulsing vein down the middle of each one, my triceps popping forth into hulkish treetrunks. Turning around, I could see my shoulders and back broadening and thickening, tearing the undershirt to shreds as my lats expanded with growing muscles. I groaned with gratification as I looked at my ass, which ballooned and bubbled bulbously against my stretching briefs. I flexed my huge ass, feeling the muscles contract and expand deliciously as my hole twitched with delight. ”Unnnnhhh!” I moaned as I turned back around, feeling a throbbing sensation coming from my cock, which bulged in girth and length with every pulse, my straining briefs almost bursting at the seams as my balls grew to the size of melons. I grabbed and squeezed my thick horse cock, pulling the heavy python from my pants and letting its massive head flop down past my knees, where it swung like a pendulum between my legs, dripping a puddle of cum on the floor. I tugged at the hanging veiny monster and stroked it with both hands, covered in cum. My elephant dick began to harden, pushing up to my pecs, where I licked its hole, flowing and streaming with delicious juice. I rubbed the whole fucking huge cock against the full-length mirror, increasing my pleasure infinitely. “Fuck yeah! Fuuuuccckk!” I yelled, hearing my voice become stronger and deeper as I became ready to shoot my load. The mega-cock spewed a flood of sticky cum, which covered the entire bathroom in a gooey mess. I laid down on the floor in my own cum, feeling incredibly intense waves of indulgence roll over me with every spurt. As my dick flopped back down to just below my knees, I heard Anthony call from the bedroom. “What are you doing in there?” he yelled. “Are you alright?” I grinned with excitement and got to my feet, checking out my wet body in the mirror. I was no longer a scrawny toothpick; I was a fucking beast, with round, firm, and meaty legs that supported my godlike torso, which popped in all the right places. My arms were monstrous, and I noticed as I flexed my basketball biceps that my hands had grown as well. I reached for my briefs, to try and put them back on, and, squeezing each leg into the elastic, I got them to fit snugly around the juicy curve of my thick ass. Grasping my giant floppy cock, which was well over a foot long, I tried to shove it into my stretching underwear, causing a couple large rips to appear in the elastic. After a few seconds of struggling to keep the slippery, luscious piece of meat within the confines of my bulging briefs, I gave up and let the huge head hang blatantly out the bottom. ”Adrian?” called Anthony, “What was that noise?” ”Nothing. I’ll be out in a second!” I responded. Smiling devilishly, I licked my lips and exited the bathroom. (To Be Continued)
  19. (I accidentally posted this in the Story Archive, so I reposted it here) It was my first day of college, and I decided I was done being pushed around because of my small size and skinny stature. I wasn’t going to be called stringbean, pussy, or tadpole anymore. This is it, I thought, I will finally change into the huge fucking hunk of my wettest dreams. And so, early in the morning before class, I had taken it upon myself to visit the campus gym. As I approached the building, I could see through the windows that there were some seriously jacked bodybuilders in there, pumping muscle with gigantic weights as if they were as light as a pencil. I walked inside and began to lift weights, heaving with all my might but getting quickly exhausted after two sets of fifteen reps. I gazed over at a dreamy shredded twink in a blue tank top, whose veiny arms and hard pecs thrusted as he did deadlifts. He had scruffy brown hair, an amazing jawline, and intense blue eyes that were complimented by the beautiful eyebrows that sat on top of them. He was wearing a pair of gray sweatshorts that cradled his big bouncing ass tightly, and as he turned around, I almost slobbered when laying eyes on the thick, long outline of his huge cock. Seeing me staring at him, he smiled devilishly, put down his weights and walked towards me, his big dick shaking with every step. “Hey,” he said as he sat on the bench next to me, “can I help you with anything?” Realizing my mouth was wide open, I said, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” Feeling my average-sized dick hardening in my gym shorts, I crossed my legs, and tried not blush, but I failed. ”It’s okay,” he replied, “you’d be surprised how often that happens.” His sweaty musk smelled so alluring. ”I wouldn’t be that surprised,” I responded, licking my lips and looking once more at his dick, which was creeping out of his shorts. “My name’s Anthony,” he said, smoothing back his spiky hair, “what’s yours?” ”I’m Adrian,” I replied, feeling warmth spreading to every place on my body, and desire inching up my throat. I was about to reach out and run my hand gently over his biceps, when he glanced at his watch. “Oh wow! Sorry, I’m gonna be late to class!” he exclaimed, and bolted out the door, his butt swaying perfectly behind him as he left. Sighing, I returned to my pointless weightlifting, wishing hopelessly that I could suck his cock and fuck his ass. He would never agree to that, though, I thought, looking sadly at my nonexistent pecs and completely flat stomach. Later, in the afternoon, I saw Anthony exiting the locker room as I walked in. He nodded at me cockily, and I nervously smiled back, wanting to say something flirty, but before I could he had rounded the corner. I cursed myself silently and entered the boys locker room. I always hated gym class. I mean, you can’t blame me, a scrawny little white gay kid with barely a hair on my chest, for hating gym. The locker rooms were torture, watching all the ripped straight guys casually removing their boxers in front of me and walking around with their donkey cocks flopping all over the place. They were like stupid alpha wolfs, bantering about which girls they were going to fuck next, comparing their dick sizes, pulling each other’s pants down and laughing hysterically. As I furtively approached my locker, Jason Tyler, who’d gone to my high school, grabbed the waist of my briefs and tugged them towards the ground, snickering maliciously. Jason was a blond dumb jock, with a rock-hard eight-pack that he showed off like a peacock. “Hey, Adrian!” he called stupidly as his cronies gathered around. “Nice four inches of steel you got there,” he mocked, pointing at my fully visible hard-on with glee. ”It’s actually five inches,” I corrected, immediately regretting my decision to say anything. I pulled my briefs back on, which hardly did anything to hide my obvious boner. “Sure,” Jason remarked with a sneer. “Have you seen my eight inches?” he asked, whipping his dick out at me with a grin. “They’re fucking mind-blowing!” As he walked away, whooping like a buffoon, I angrily gave him the middle finger, but he didn’t notice, as he had already begun picking on some other guy. That evening, as I slowly and forlornly walked to my dorm hall across campus, I remembered my goal of the year, to not end up being pushed around, and I glumly frowned, for it seemed as though I would fail miserably. As I entered my dorm building, I discovered a small card pinned to the noticeboard in the entryway. It said “Utterly flabby? Grossly skinny? Want to become a sexier you without fake pills or exhausting exercise? Then come to The Erotic Magic Shop on the corner of Hillsbury and Cedar. We’ve got what you want.” Intrigued, I put the card in my pocket and began to exit the building when I ran smack into Anthony, who was standing in the doorway. ”Oh! Sorry!” I said with a slight tinge of pleasure from feeling his stony abs press up against me. For a brief moment, I could sense his thick meat push onto my dick, and my shorts became moist with precum. ”That was my fault,” Anthony said with a cute smile, his hunky forearms glistening with perspiration in the early evening sunlight. “Where are you going?” “I’m new to this area,” I replied, scratching the back of my neck, “so I don’t quite know. Where is Hillsbury and Cedar?” He proceeded to describe the directions, but I kept goggling at his fucking hot body and his bulging cock, my mouth watering for the warm shot of cum that it would release. After sheepishly explaining that I wasn’t listening, he laughed robustly and agreed to walk with me there. As we walked, I tried not to gawk at his gorgeously muscled torso, or his firm but deliciously bubbly ass, with curved cheeks that rose and fell with each stride, but I couldn’t resist the occasional lustful glimpse. We arrived at the Erotic Magic Shop, finding it ramshackle and decrepit, the sign almost eroded completely off. I told Anthony that he was welcome to go back, and he returned to our shared dorm building, saying that he had to finish some homework. Despite the closed sign on the door, I went in, finding it strangely unlocked. It was dark, dusty, and full of boxes piled as high as the ceiling. “Hello?” I called, to no response. As I was passing down an aisle of boxes, I heard what I thought was someone whispering my name. Adrian, it said. Adrian... I followed it to the far corner of the room, where a small flask with a clear green liquid sat on a table, labeled only with the words “Drink me.” Suddenly I thought I heard footsteps on the other side of a stack of boxes, and, snatching the flask, I dashed out the door and ran hastily back to my dorm. Entering my room, I was surprised to find that Anthony was my roommate. He was sprawled shirtless on his back, laying in camo lycra boxer-briefs on his bed with a book in his hand. The head of his cock was protruding from the protesting briefs, with a drip of precum hanging from his dickhole. His broad shoulders stretched out across the mattress, and his chiseled abs moved slowly with his breathing. ”Wow! We’re... roommates?” I asked excitedly, seating myself on my bed, which was next to his. ”Yeah,” Anthony said with a boyish grin, literally struggling to keep his dick in his briefs. “Isn’t this great?” Smiling anxiously, I ran into the bathroom and locked the door, taking off my jacket and t-shirt. My shorts soon followed, leaving me in my undershirt and briefs. Then I grabbed the flask of green liquid from the pocket of my shorts. I immediately gulped down all of the liquid and stood in front of a full-length mirror, feeling ridiculous just waiting for something to happen. Then I felt it. All throughout my nerves, I felt a tingling sensation of sexual desire. My whole body began to throb with pleasure like a dick blowing its load, and I trembled and shuddered with orgasmic joy. “Fucccckkk!” I cried with ecstasy as I noticed my feet growing larger and veinier in front of my eyes, my toes slowly jutting out. Next my calves began to grow, the swelling creeping up my legs until my thighs and quadriceps had erupted with layers of smooth muscle as well. Then my torso quivered in excitement as my flat stomach shredded into a perfect eight-pack of washboard abs visible beneath my undershirt, which I lifted up, running my hand over my chiseled abs in erotic awe. Suddenly, full round pecs sprang forward out of my chest, ripping the undershirt down the middle and rising like mountains. Hard nipples pointed from their peaks, which lactated milk that oozed like cum down my body. My arms followed, biceps bulging out with a pulsing vein down the middle of each one, my triceps popping forth into hulkish treetrunks. Turning around, I could see my shoulders and back broadening and thickening, tearing the undershirt to shreds as my lats expanded with growing muscles. I groaned with gratification as I looked at my ass, which ballooned and bubbled bulbously against my stretching briefs. I flexed my huge ass, feeling the muscles contract and expand deliciously as my hole twitched with delight. ”Unnnnhhh!” I moaned as I turned back around, feeling a throbbing sensation coming from my cock, which bulged in girth and length with every pulse, my straining briefs almost bursting at the seams as my balls grew to the size of melons. I grabbed and squeezed my thick horse cock, pulling the heavy python from my pants and letting its massive head flop down past my knees, where it swung like a pendulum between my legs, dripping a puddle of cum on the floor. I tugged at the hanging veiny monster and stroked it with both hands, covered in cum. My elephant dick began to harden, pushing up to my pecs, where I licked its hole, flowing and streaming with delicious juice. I rubbed the whole fucking huge cock against the full-length mirror, increasing my pleasure infinitely. “Fuck yeah! Fuuuuccckk!” I yelled, hearing my voice become stronger and deeper as I became ready to shoot my load. The mega-cock spewed a flood of sticky cum, which covered the entire bathroom in a gooey mess. I laid down on the floor in my own cum, feeling incredibly intense waves of indulgence roll over me with every spurt. As my dick flopped back down to just below my knees, I heard Anthony call from the bedroom. “What are you doing in there?” he yelled. “Are you alright?” I grinned with excitement and got to my feet, checking out my wet body in the mirror. I was no longer a scrawny toothpick; I was a fucking beast, with round, firm, and meaty legs that supported my godlike torso, which popped in all the right places. My arms were monstrous, and I noticed as I flexed my basketball biceps that my hands had grown as well. I reached for my briefs, to try and put them back on, and, squeezing each leg into the elastic, I got them to fit snugly around the juicy curve of my thick ass. Grasping my giant floppy cock, which was well over a foot long, I tried to shove it into my stretching underwear, causing a couple large rips to appear in the elastic. After a few seconds of struggling to keep the slippery, luscious piece of meat within the confines of my bulging briefs, I gave up and let the huge head hang blatantly out the bottom. ”Adrian?” called Anthony, “What was that noise?” ”Nothing. I’ll be out in a second!” I responded. Smiling devilishly, I licked my lips and exited the bathroom. (To Be Continued)
  20. musclegin30

    m/m The Muscle Gut Club (A Novel)

    Synopsis: Aron is an 18 year-old muscle obsessed college freshman who masturbates to muscular guys online. His favorite videos to watch are those of The Muscle Gut Club, four muscle gods who make a living sharing their size and strength with the online world. Steven is a muscle obsessed college junior who likes The Muscle Gut Club videos as well, though he hates himself for enjoying something so blatantly homosexual. Life becomes complicated for them both when the club leaps from the cyber world and into the real one. Aron goes down a path that leads to his wildest fantasies, while Steven takes a darker road. There will be muscle worship; there will be sex; there will be humiliation; there will be revenge; and there will be growth. No ones lives with be the same, including those of the club members in this 38 chapter long, muscle filled, character driven story told from 6 characters' points of view. Come and meet The Muscle Gut Club. Chapter One: Aron Aron Ocampo sat in his darkened room with only the faint glow of his laptop screen illuminating his face. His cock was in his right hand, dripping with pre-cum and steadily growing harder becoming so engorged with blood that it almost hurt. A pleasurable hurt. In his other hand, a tube of lotion, ready to lubricate his manhood. On the laptop he watched intently as a muscle stud moved closer to the camera filling more and more of the screen with his immense size. He was standing in a Starkly decorated living room. Clad only in a tiny red poser that could barely contain his bulging manhood the young muscle monster began to flex. His neck was astonishingly thick. It blended into two mountainous traps that met two cannonball delts. His arms were 19 inches around and framed a pair of perfect slab-like pecs that jutted out so far you could eat off of the shelf they created. He struck a front double bicep pose followed by a most muscular. The muscle god was not lean, but Aron didn’t care. He liked his men big and this fine specimen fit the bill. His muscle gut stuck out just past his pecs, obviously stuffed with a large high protein meal to fuel the muscle bull’s growth. Aron began to slowly stroke his erect little cock. The camera panned down to focus on the muscle god’s thick legs. They were like tree trunks. The monster legs were so big they almost made the meat between them look small, but Aron knew that was only an illusion. That cock was not small. He had seen it many times before. Aron stroked himself faster now. There came a knock. The muscle monster swaggered over to the door and opened it revealing a tiny pale twink, so skinny and short it was laughable but Aron couldn’t laugh. He was just like him, a pathetically small and weak boy who could never compare to a real man like the muscle god who made his cock throb with pleasure. “You came to worship me, your master?” The muscle god’s voice was deep and he spoke with authority. “Yes master,” Said the twink, clearly intimidated. He wore nothing, save for a pair of boxers. Aron wished he was in his position and could be in the presence of such impressive muscle. Lucky bastard he thought The muscle god pulled the twink into the room with one powerful arm so fast that the little fellows feet momentarily left the floor. He landed approximately six inches from the muscle god. The twink’s head only reached his master’s chest. He looked like a schoolboy next to a full-grown man. The muscle man’s biceps were bigger than his legs! Aron continued to stroke himself, slower now. He had to pace it just right. The muscle god handed the little twink a bottle of baby oil. “Get to it shrimp,” he said with a grin as he flexed his huge arms. He looked at his muscle obviously impressed with himself. “God, I’m fucking big,” he bellowed. The little shrimp began to oil his muscle master. He rubbed and caressed each body part. The pecs seemed to be his favorite part and he paid them special attention. He got on tippy toes to kiss them up and down as the muscle god squeezed and relaxed. Squeezed and relaxed. The twink began to suck on the nipples making the muscle god moan with pleasure. “Oh yeah, worship my monster pecs.” “Yes master.” The twink’s little cock was growing pushing out the fabric of his boxers. The muscle monster’s cock was growing as well, straining his tiny posers. Aron began to stroke his manhood faster now. The climax was coming and he wanted to time it perfectly. “You worship my muscles well. Now how about you worship this.” The muscle god grabbed his bulge. At-least 2 inches of his cock was sticking out of the top of his posers. “Fuck ‘em,” said the muscle monster as he pulled off his posers with a loud RIP revealing his 8-inch python. “I outgrew them months ago.” “They fit perfectly to me,” said the twink with a smile. “Shut-up and suck,” commanded the muscle god. He pushed down on the twink’s shoulders and the little guy collapsed to his knees. Almost as fast as he hit the ground he had the cock in his mouth and began to suck with enthusiasm and glee. Aron watched longingly. God, I wish it was me. The twink deep-throated the whole cock, sucking it and pleasing it from balls to tip. He twisted his head from side to side working the thick veiny shaft with such skill that the muscle god was high on pleasure. He threw his head back and moaned, “yes, yes!” Aron was stroking his own cock in almost perfect rhythm with the twink’s sucking motions. The spasms came slow at first and then faster. He was about to blow. “I’m coming. I’m coming,” the muscle monster began to shout. The twink stopped sucking. Still on his knees he looked up at the towering behemoth above him. Its cock aimed square at his face. The twink closed his eyes. Aron closed his eyes. The muscle god blew several huge loads all over the twink’s face. Aron shot his cum into a strategically placed garbage can under his desk. Aron loosed the grip on his cock and took in a few deep breaths. Some cum had made its way onto his hand and he was sweating slightly. The twink’s face was covered in a layer of muscle man spunk, thick and creamy white. He looked like he fell head first into a bowl of yogurt. It oozed by his eyes and dripped from his chin. The twink began to lick the warm cum from his face. “That’s right boy. Suck it all in. You aint leaving here until every drop of that cum is in you.” The huge stud placed his hands on his muscle gut and began to laugh as the twink continued to eat his cum with audible MMMs. The screen went black and Aron was left feeling empty now that the video had ended. He knew it was only a 10-minute video when he purchased it for $50, yet somehow he thought it would go on longer, or at least hoped as much. He had purchased the video from the Muscle Gut Club website. The Muscle Gut Club was a group of four college aged men dedicated to growing their bodies and sharing their progress with adoring fans the world over. With a combination of free youtube videos showcasing their lives and hardcore videos on their for sale site, they took the Internet’s muscle fetish community by storm. The four muscle gods lived together, ate together, and pumped iron together. Aron made his way over to the club’s youtube page, and clicked on one of their older videos: Muscle Gut Club Protein Bloat. The whole club was sitting on a huge black leather sofa. Edmund Moreno, the junior competitive bodybuilder, sat on the far left. His dark brown locks fell just to his earlobes His tanned skin and square jaw were to die for. In the middle sat the two muscle bears, the weightlifters, Brendon Lane and Daniel Hogan. Brendon was smaller here than in the video Steven had just paid $50 for. He still had the same mocha skin, short neatly trimmed beard, and bloated muscle gut. Daniel, the Irish American was pale, hairy, and sported a lumberjack style beard. On the far right sat Thomas Patel, the Indian fitness model and physique competitor. He was by far the smallest of the bunch, the only one under 6 feet and 200 pounds, but his 160 pounds of lean muscle packed on a 5 foot 8-inch frame made him an impressive site. Thomas was hairless save for the short, neatly combed black hair on the top of his head. All four of the studs were wearing nothing but briefs (strained at the seams). In front of them was a table filled with high protein delights. There was a family sized bucket of KFC fried chicken, four steak fajitas, a pound of crispy bacon, 8 hamburgers, and a platter of bbq wings piled so high as to form a mountain in the center of the table. Aron was always impressed by the club’s eating ability and this video was over one-year-old. Surely they could eat twice this now since they had all grown. Edmund was the first to speak. He spread his arms wide. “We are going to eat all of this. It’s enough food for 16 normal people, but we aren’t normal. We’re fucking gods.” He flexed his biceps and the other’s followed suite, though his had the most impressive peaks of the bunch. “What are we celebrating boys?” asked Edmund. “My powerlifting meet,” said Daniel. “The success of my photoshoot,” said Thomas. “Being the biggest motherfucker here,” shouted Brandon with a pat of his gut and a laugh. “And I’m celebrated the end of my bulk. After this it’s time to get shredded for my next competition,” said Edmund, “let’s feed these muscles”. At once these half naked muscle gods greedily dove into the food like they hadn’t eaten in days. Bite after bite, so fast it was a wonder no one got hurt. They grabbed and shoved and gnawed in the sexiest spectacle of gluttony on the web. Four alphas feeding their growing physiques, trying to satiate their oversized appetites. The club members began to rub and pat each other’s distended bellies, laughing at, and admiring the damage done. Aron was growing hard again, and so were the members of the club. The gentle creak of Aron’s bedroom door opening startled him. He quickly closed the video. His heart raced. Mrs. Rita Ocampo, Aron’s mother, entered the dim room and stood just inside the door. She wore a silk night gown and a tired expression. “It’s 1 am,” she said. “Yeah.” Aron did not turn around. He slyly slid his cock back into his pants. “What were you doing Aron?” “Nothing! Just getting ready for bed.” Aron closed his laptop and turned around with a pout. “Can you knock next time mom. You know I’m old enough for some privacy.” His room had no lock. Parent’s rules. “You still live under my roof.” Not for long. “But I will knock next time,” She said, rolling her eyes. When his mother had gone Aron took a deep breath. One of his biggest fears was his parents discovering him watching gay porn or any material that could be seen as homoerotic in nature. Aron discovered he was gay, or rather accepted the fact, when he was 16. His parents had no clue to their son’s true nature as far as he knew and Aron did everything he could to keep it that way. His parents did not approve of the lifestyle and considered it a terrible sin. He had had hopes of sitting his parents down on his 18th birthday and telling them the truth, but his 18th came and went 2 months ago with not a peep. Instead he remarked to a classmate, within earshot of his father, how hot his neighbor’s 19-year-old daughter was, all in an attempt to keep the façade intact. It doesn’t matter. In a month I’ll be in college, free to do what I want and be what I want. Aron smiled at the thought as he crawled into bed, before drifting into a dream land populated with muscle men. Chapter Two: Steven Steven Hess stood naked in his cramped bathroom facing the mirror. His expression was one of disappointment. In 3 weeks I’ll be back in college with this same pathetic body, he thought. Standing at an even 6 feet, with a flabby 180 build, he not an impressive sight. Clothed, he could suck in his paunch and pass for fit to the untrained but here, standing naked there was no hiding his lack of definition. He grabbed at 3 inches of flab on his stomach and shook it with a frown. He performed a front double bicep only to discover there was hardly any peak on his 14.5 inch arms. He was disgusted and only grew more disgusted the longer he stared at his reflection. Still he stared. He squeezed his soft pale pecs and flexed his invisible abs. He left the bathroom in a huff and proceeded to get dressed in a pair of blue denim shorts and a light gray t-shirt. Steven sat at his computer desk. A few thin rays of morning sun speckled his shirt, warming him. But Steven did not want to be warm. He got up to turn on his air conditioner and close his blinds, choosing to sit in cool darkness. Muscle Gut Club. The thought seemed to come from nowhere. Muscle Gut Club. An inner voice seemed to call out for him to watch their videos. I thought these urges were gone. I thought I was cured of these sinful thoughts. He shook his head in anger. Steven had first discovered the club’s videos when he was 18, two years ago. He had started working out at the time and the club served as motivation for him. Their early videos consisted of mostly flexing, workouts, and eating. Steven hoped to look like them. However, his efforts proved fruitless. After eight months in the gym he had gained 10 pound and half of that he believed to be fat. Steven came to the conclusion that the club members must be on steroids, that anyone with big muscles must be on steroids. Steven had decided he would never defile his body with such impure and dangerous compounds so he quit that working out business. Still, he continued to watch Muscle Gut Club videos, even as they grew more sexual in nature. Where once the club would do a video fully clothed (very tight clothes of course) they would now do them in boxer briefs. Steven masturbated to several of their videos, especially the ones focused on Edmund, the bodybuilder. I’m not gay. I’m not gay. I’m just hormonal and young. Everything makes me horny. There’s nothing wrong with this he would tell himself. The more he said it, the less he believed it until he forced himself to stop watching Muscle Gut Club videos once and for all. His abstinence lasted all of a week when he discovered that he went to the same college as the club. There videos were filmed off campus in a private home so there was nothing in them to give away the location. There was no hiding their faces, though. Steven was walking to the dining hall and the four muscle gods walked towards him, Brendon, Thomas, Daniel, and Edmund, Oh Edmund. From that point on Steven was at war with his homosexual desires. Now he sat in is dim room faced a decision. Listed to the voice: Muscle Gut Club or fight it. He chose to listen. I’ll stop tomorrow. It’s no big deal. Steven opened his laptop and immediately went to the clubs YouTube channel. He would not pay for one of their videos. He scrolled through and selected the video titled “Edmond Dominates Benny the Twink.” He stopped himself. No, no. You’re not a faggot Steven. Stop this. Yes, you are. You’re just a muscle loving faggot who’ll never have any muscle of his own. No I’m not, I have a girlfriend. Yes, you are, she’s just a cover. No I’m not! Steven slammed the computer screen shut. “Goddammit,” Steven shouted as he bolted up from his desk. Pacing the room, he hummed to silence the voices making war in his head. Steven had just woken up but now he eyed his bed, contemplating it. Rest may help me. I’ll just close my eyes. He slid under the covers. In no time he was lost in sleep and a dream took him. Steven could not tell where he was, outside or in. A dry fog surrounded him and obscured the boundaries of his vision. Is it day or night? He lay on scarlet satin seats in black pajama bottom with no top. A roll of soft fat curled over the pajama’s waistband as he leaned up to further survey is surroundings. The bed was so large that the edges of it were lost in the fog. The thought to roll entered his mind and so he did it. He rolled and rolled like a child in the grass but stopped when he realized he would not reach the end. He peered deep into the fog. A shadow seemed to take form in the haze. It moved towards him, slowly. “Hello,” Steven called out. No reply. Still the shadow moved closer, growing larger and clearer. “Hello,” he called again. “Where am I? What is this place?” Again there was no reply. The figure was nearly upon him. It was clearly that of man, tall with broad shoulders. The fog seemed to part before him and Steven saw his face. It was Edmund Moreno. His chiseled jawline could have been carved from stone. Edmond stared at Steven with is light brown eyes. His lips formed a cocky smile. He wore a charcoal grey suit with a white shirt unbuttoned at the top. A gold band was on his ring finger. Steven looked at his own hand and found a matching gold band that he had not noticed before. His heart skipped a beat. Edmund’s arms stretched the fabric of the shirtsleeves. His brood chest pulled at the material around the buttons. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and pealed it off his massive frame, then slowly undid each button on the white shirt, working his way lower until he had revealed his washboard abs. Steven had grown completely hard. He pushed his boner down in shame but the iron hard cock was too rigid. It could not be tamed. The muscle god flexed his biceps and ripped open the shirtsleeves along the seam before throwing the shirt into the fog. He motioned to undo his belt and as he did so his meaty pecs bounced with ever movement of his arms. Steven was now jerking off furiously to quell his raging boner. Edmund lowered his pants revealing meaty, striated thighs, and an impressive cock. It was thick, veiny and clearly rock hard but it was so large it hung low and heavy under its own weight. Every part of him was impressive. Steven salivated and rose to his knees, still beating his meat. Suddenly Edmund lunged forward, stopping just short of forcing Steven back. His mammoth manhood knocked Steven in the face. It was more impressive up close, truly a beautiful sight. Steven took it into his mouth and began to suck. He sucked with passion and desire as if there was nothing else he wanted, only that cock, only that moment. He stopped stroking his own cock and concentrated solely on the Stud standing above him. Edmund grabbed Steven’s hair and pushed his head further onto his muscle god cock. Steven gagged. His eyes filled with tears of pleasure. The rhythmic throbs came all at once. Edmund blew a forceful load into Stevens mouth, filling it with thick, warm, salty spunk. He swallowed it all with gusto and squeezed every last drop from that cock. When he was through he looked up at the muscle stud. Steven asked, “Got any more?” As if in answer Edmond bent over and picked Steven up with no obvious show of effort. He turned Steven over and ripped of the pajama bottoms, revealing a pale white ass that contrasted sharply with his own tanned skin. Edmond spit on his cock. Steven’s cheeks were parted by the massive manhood and his asshole was stretched to its limits. Edmund began to pound his ass with ferocity. Steven moaned in pleasure with each thrust. “More, more,” Steven screamed. Edmund blew his second load filling Steven’s ass with his seed. “Don’t stop!” Steven was breathing heavily. He turned and Edmund was gone. He was alone again with nothing but satin sheets and fog. All at once he heard a voice beside him. “Did you enjoy that faggot?” He turned toward the voice and was staring himself in the face. “Did you enjoy that faggot?” the voice repeated in echo. Steven woke with a start. He lay in his bed covered in a cold sweat. His manhood was rock hard. A feeling of disgust filled him, disgusted with himself, with that dream, no, nightmare. I’m not a faggot. I’m not a faggot. I’m not a faggot. He repeated the mantra as he got out of bed to carry on with his day. Three: Aron He struggled to lift his packed suitcase from the trunk of his parent’s SUV. It weighed 50 pounds, half his weight. His father, Mr. Efren Ocampo, helped him. Efren was a man of slight build and medium height, the same height as his wife in fact, 5 foot 8 inches. Both were taller than their 5 foot 5 inch son. “Son, you take this one.” He handed Aron a smaller bag and took the larger one himself. “It looks like those people are welcoming Freshmen,” said Aron’s father as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Come on honey.” Mrs. Ocampo sauntered up to stand by her husband. She wore large black sunglasses and a wide brimmed hat. It was an oppressively hot August day with not a cloud in the sky. The family began to walk toward the welcoming committee. Aron hurried in front of his parents, his arm straining under the weight of the ‘light’ suitcase. God I’m so weak. He switched arms and kept a straight face, refusing to show weakness. The welcoming committee in this section of the campus consisted of three girls and three boys standing behind a long table under the shade of a blue picnic tent. The table was covered with boxes containing shirts, hoodies, mugs, pens, and notebooks, all with the University logo. “Hi!” A girl said, beaming, as Aron surveyed the table. She wore a yellow t-shirt that read “Welcome Freshman” and her name tag read “Alyssa”. “We’ve sure got a hot one for moving in don’t we? So tell me what dorm you’re in and I can direct you- what’s your name?” “Aron.” She extended her hand and Aron shook it. He used the opportunity to put his bag down and rest his arm. “I’m Alyssa.” “Hi, uh, Alyssa. I’m in Jefferson dorm.” “Go down that path, past a big tree, make a right at the statue, and keep going straight. You’ll hit Jefferson. You can’t miss it.” She gesticulated wildly as she spoke. Mrs. Ocampo leaned on the table once Alyssa was finished. “The dorm has air conditioning right? Please tell me it has air conditioning. When we came for orientation they only showed us the new dorms and they have air conditioning, but I wonder if they are hiding something.” Mrs. Ocampo pulled her sunglasses down and stared Alyssa square in the eyes. “Well I know they added air conditioning to all the dorms 5 yrs ago but sometimes in the older dorms like Jefferson it can be a little iffy.” “Fair enough.” Mrs. Ocampo replied. Aron and his family followed Alyssa’s directions and arrived at the Doors of Jefferson. All of them were sweating profusely. Aron looked up the mammoth structure. Jefferson stood five stories and was in the shape of a huge capital “H”. English ivy clung to a brick façade and well-pruned cedars framed the main entrance. Aron had read that the first floor was all boys, the second, all girls, and the last three were co-ed. His room was 312, a co-ed floor to further his illusion of heterosexuality. In Jefferson’s main hall the Residential Assistants handed out the room keys as well as a pamphlet of rules. “Stay cool,” said a male RA as he handed Aron his key. “All even numbered rooms are on the left.” Everyone’s so friendly. I’m going to like it here, Aron thought. The building had no elevators and by the time the family reached the third floor they were all exasperated from the combination of carrying luggage and the heat. Aron opened his room door and saw that his Roommate was already present and had claimed the left side of the room. He was a tall, athletically built and Chinese. Aron remembered his name was Jason Ho and thought he was kind of cute. After a quick introduction (very quick, Jason was not the talkative type) Aron unpacked his bags and the Ocampos left for Walmart to pick-up a few things Aron would need, storage containers, an alarm clock, laundry hamper, lamp, and a small television. With Aron’s room all set up the Ocampos enjoyed one final family meal at a local restaurant, though Aron would have been satisfied had they left immediately after returning from Walmart. “That Alyssa was pretty cute, huh?” Mr. Ocampo said as he cut into a medium rare steak. “I saw the way you looked at her.” Aron had looked at her funny because of her over the top hand gestures. “I think she’s an upperclassman dad.” Aron replied. He couldn’t believe his father was playing matchmaker on his first day in college. “So what. There’s nothing wrong with an older woman.” “Efren!” Mrs. Ocampo snapped. “He’ll be focusing on school his first year. Romance later.” “I was just messing with him honey.” After the meal Aron’s parents dropped him off on campus. His mother had tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “Call once a week,” she said. “We’ll miss you.” “If you need any money just call son,” said his father “Have fun and we love you, and learn something.” He hugged and kissed his parents and watched them drive off. Free at last. Free at last. Aron wasted no time exploring the campus. He had seen very little of it on orientation day and was curious to see everything it had to offer. It covered 1200 acres and Aron intended to cover as much of it as possible before dark. He was relieved that clouds had rolled in after lunch causing the heat to subside some. Jefferson dorm overlooked the East campus dining hall. Aron found it drab. It looked like a restaurant that had not been redecorated since the 80s. Not much food was available since Aron had visited between meals, but the food that was available (pizza, chicken tenders, mixed vegetables, and French fries) looked edible enough. As Aron walked down the campus’ main path (called Scholar’s Way) toward the heart of the campus he took in the sights and sounds of college. Students played ultimate Frisbee in an open field. Girls sunned themselves on towels discussing their summers. Two shirtless guys jogged by him and he tried his hardest not to stair too long. A hipster played his guitar under an oak tree. Aron didn’t recognize the tune. It hit all at once. A rush through him down to his bones: the realization that he would be living there with thousands of other students for 3 ½ months (until winter break). New friends. New experiences. And he was ready. He stopped in the center of the path and looked up at the clock tower of the student union. It was 2:30pm and in that moment he vowed not to waste his time in college. He wasn’t going to live life through a computer screen in some dark room. He would have real experiences: a real life. His lips lifted into the largest goofiest smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled in earnest because he was happy and not just to cover his true feelings. He lowered his gaze from the clock tower and in an instant his smile was gone. In its place was an expression of shock. In the distance he saw a familiar shape. A hulking figure moved through the crowd. It couldn’t be. Could it? No. It couldn’t be him. Aron had to be sure. He ran through a crowd of students bumping into some. With rushed apologies, he pushed past them. His quarry was large, not easy to lose track of but Aron’s small stature meant that he could hardly see over other students. He had to be quick and luckily he was. The crowd grew thick the closer he got to the heart of the campus, the food court in the student union. Aron followed his quarry into the food court. He had heard they served much better food than the dining halls and the large crowd seemed to support this. There were several students taller than the one he was following but none wider or more thickly muscled. He wore a red tank top and white shorts with sandals. red certainly is his color. The food court was arranged in two sections. First a semi-circle with various eateries crammed side by side: a taco place, a bakery, a sub shop, a Chinese place, a smoothie stand, and a pizzeria. The second was a rectangular hall with tables of various sizes. His quarry stood in line at the sub shop and Aron positioned himself in line at the taco place, close enough to see him but far enough away not to be noticed. His heart raced as he looked to catch a glimpse of his face. Mocha skin and a well-trimmed beard. He had all the features. It was Brendon Lane. If Brendon goes to this school then the whole Muscle Gut Club must go here as well. Aron felt faint. He left his line without buying anything and made his way to the tables, choosing a seat in the corner that was obscured buy a support column. He felt like a creeper as he watched Brendon get his food with fascination. Apparently the appetite he displayed in his videos was not for show. He ordered two 12 inch sub sandwiches, and a giant size chocolate chip cookie from the sub shop, as well as a milkshake from the shake stand (apparently they offer to add protein powder to your shakes for an extra dollar, an option Brendon took). Brendon sat at a table by himself just within Aron’s sights. He ate with gusto and consumed all of the food within 10 minutes. Aron timed him. When Brendon rose he rubbed his distended muscle gut and smiled before exiting the food court. Aron had a choice to make, follow or not. It had long been Aron’s fantasy to meet the members of the muscle gut club. Now he had that opportunity. Should I take it? He masturbated himself raw to them. He had seen them all naked. What would I say to them? Hey, I like your cock. No. He knew he would probably be speechless, but still… I have to try. Aron rose and ran from the food court. He caught site of Brendon in the distance. Taking a deep breath, he set off behind him. Exploring the rest of the campus would have to wait. Four: Brendon He pushed the weight up with little effort for the fifteenth time. 250 pounds was just a warm up for him now, but two years ago as an 18-year-old freshman it would have been a struggle. At 18 he had been working out for 3 years (seriously for only half that time) and had developed a lean aesthetic physique that could have been the envy of any fitness model. He liked his abs. He liked his striations but he liked seeing the weigh on the bar go up even more. That year something in him clicked and strength not aesthetics became his main goal. Now he lay on the bench in the Muscle Gut Club’s private gym a stronger more robust version of his 18-year-old self. In two years he had grown 2 inches in height and gained 50 pounds. At 6 foot 3 inches and 230 pounds he had no abs but he didn’t care. He was stronger than he’d ever been and only wanted to grow in strength. Bigger. Stronger. Better. He was on a forever bulk. Brendon stood up from the bench. He wore a blue stinger that covered so little of his upper body that he might as well have been shirtless, and black compression shorts that could hardly contain his squat-grown ass. He picked up two 25 pound plates like they weighed nothing and added them to the 250 pounds already on the bar. He proceeded to bench the weight. One rep. Two reps…by the Tenth rep he was breathing heavy, but he managed to crank out two more reps before racking the 300 pounds with a loud clang. Still too light. His cock stirred at the thought. If he could do more than eight reps of a weight he knew he had to go heavier. After a three-minute rest and a drink of BCAAs he added a 10-pound weight and a 2.5-pound weight to each side. The bar now weighed 325 pounds and after a deep breath he lifted the bar. His arms shook slightly but he managed five reps with perfect form. He racked the weight and sat up slowly. Beads of sweat formed on his temples and trickled down the side of his face. His pecs were pumped full with blood (as was his cock). He rubbed them and bounced them, enjoying the sight of himself in the mirror. “Having fun?” A voice interrupted his self-muscle worship session. Daniel Hogan stood at the door with a cheeky grin. “Lifting heavy without a spotter again. You’re asking to get hurt.” Daniel moved closer to him. “I’m not pushing myself too hard.” Brendon said. “You should be if you’re gonna beat me at the meet” Daniel flexed his arms as he spoke. Brendon laughed then said, “First you’ll have to get up to my weight class and I warn you I’ll be heavier by the end of the year.” At 6 foot 1 inch and 215 pound Daniel did not have far to go. “I hadn’t planned on competing in your weight class.” Daniel looked at himself in the mirror before picking up two 60 pound dumbbells and curling them. “Aah, you’re too scared to compete head to head so you plan to dominate in a lower weight class. But tell me how’s our bet going to work. I thought the person who beats the other has to pay $500-” Daniel interrupted him. “No, my idea was the one who wins their weight class pays the other $500. Brendon shook his head and smiled. “Tell me Dan,” Brendon began, “What happens if we both win in our weight classes, or we both loose.” Daniel stopped curling and looked his friend dead in the eyes for a second. He pushed his lower lip out, squeezed his eyebrows together and moved his eyes rapidly from side to side as he always did when deep in thought. “Well I guess of we both win or lose then there’s no bet then is there?” “Guess not,” said Brendon, laying down on the bench. He didn’t really care about the bet. “Since you’re here and so worried about my safety, spot me on my pr.” “That’s a personal record for you?” Daniel pointed at the bar. “That only 325.” “No, you’re gonna make yourself useful and add 50 pounds to it. Thanks” “You’re fucking annoying,” Daniel said with a laugh. “I know.” When the weight was set Brendon took several deep breaths and grabbed the bar. Daniel placed his hands under the bar. “You got this man, light weight, light weight,” he said. Brendon lifted it with a deep grunt. Every muscle in his upper body tensed. He lowered the weight slowly to within one inch of his chest. When the time came to raise it he stalled. Don’t let the weight beat you. Beat it. Daniel began to apply upward pressure on the bar, but Brendon frowned at him and he immediately let loose keeping his hands a half inch under the bar. Slowly Brandon began to raise the 375 lbs. He flared his teeth and half way up stalled once more. Daniel touched the bar again. “No help” grunted Brendon. “Dude you’re going to pop something.” “No help!” He raised the bar further. Yes. Bigger. Stronger. Better. He completed the rep with a howl. Daniel cheered. After racking the weight Brendon sprung up from the bench. Daniel grabbed his arm and shook him. “375 fucking pounds man.” Brendon grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Who’s the man? Haha.” His head was in the clouds. He had hit a new personal record: The heaviest in the club. He peeled off his stringer and began to flex in the mirror. Daniel joined in. “That got me hungry.” Said Brendon “You’re always hungry.” Replied Dan That was true and he knew it. He was a bottomless pit, hungry for size and power, and he fed his appetite whenever he had the chance. “Want to get something to eat?” Brendon asked. “Nah, I just ate a pizza.” Dan rubbed his slightly distended muscle gut. “Ok. Peace, I’m out.” Brendon left the gym shirtless, carrying his stringer in his hand. He could feel Daniel’s eyes watching him as he left. No doubt he was ‘miring. Brendon had already eaten 6 scrambled eggs, 4 slices of bacon, 4 pieces of toast, and 2 bananas for breakfast, as well as a gainer shake just before his bench pressing session, but that didn’t stop him from stuffing himself at lunch. He ate two whole subs, an oversized cookie, and a milkshake in the student Union food court. On an average day he could consume 6000 calories and he certainly needed them. He lifted weights 6 days a week in the morning, focusing on a major lift or body part each time. 4 days a week in the afternoons he performed strong man style lifts for 2 hours: moving logs, farmer’s carries, tire lifts, atlas stones and the like. Today was one of those days. He decided to go home and take a nap to sleep off the meal. Then he would have another shake before heading to the Strong Man Center downtown. As he walked away from the Student Union, he felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned to find a short thin boy looking up at him. The little fellow had peanut color skin, almond shaped eyes, and black hair. He appeared to have some Asian origin. A freshman no doubt, lost. “Yeah. Can I help you?” The little fellow looked away when he caught Brendon’s gaze, then in an instant his eyes darted back to meet Brendon’s. He seemed nervous. “I…uh…my name is…I just want-” Brendon was growing impatient. “Are you lost?” he asked, uninterested. “No.” “Need help finding something?” “No.” There was a moment of silence. Jesus. What’s wrong with him? “Well it was nice meeting you,” Brendon said, sardonic. “But I got places to be.” “I like your videos!” The little guy blurted it out suddenly as Brendon turned away, louder than necessary, and so quickly the words blended together. “What?” Brendon raised his eye brows. “The, uh, Muscle Gut Club videos. I really like them, like… a lot.” The little fellow lowered his eyes to the ground as if he had admitted to grave sin and was now ashamed of himself. Brendon looked him over for a minute, before bursting out in laughter. He placed a large hand on the little guy’s shoulder and patted him so hard his frail body nearly keeled over. “Sorry about that, little guy, sometimes I don’t know my own strength.” Brendon had a huge grin on his face. “Why didn’t you just open with that? I love meeting fans. It doesn’t happen too often. Most of them live too far away and it’s not like we give out our address since a lot of them are creepers if you know what I man.” The little guy managed an awkward smile. He looked relieved. “Kid, you looked like you were worried I’d eat you, haha.” And I probably could if I was hungry enough and you were the only thing around. “So what’s your name?” Brendon continued. “Aron Ocampo.” “So if you want a private muscle video its $50 for half an hour, $100 if you want me to get naked.” “Actually I just want to meet the whole club,” said Aron. “I love big guys and it would be an honor to serve you all. I would work for you all and my only payment would be the pleasure of being around all that muscle. I know it might sound lame and if you want just say no.” Aron lowered his eyes once more. Brendon could hardly believe it. The club had a house boy the previous year, Jason Meed, but after being inspired by the club he traded in his twink physique and submissive personality for a muscle bod and dominant cocky bravado. He soon clashed with the club and had to go. Now a new one had fallen into his lamp. He was cute enough, seemed submissive enough, and he clearly loved muscle. What more can I ask for? “It’s not lame at all,” Brendon said squeezing Aron’s bony shoulder. “Say, how tall are you and your weight?” “I’m 5, 3, 101 pounds.” Brendon tried to contain his inner joy. The Perfect size for lift and carry videos. “Give me your number. I’ll call you when the club is ready to meet.” When Brendon was finished putting the number in his phone he shook Aron’s hand, perhaps squeezing it a little too firmly considering the little guy’s grimace. The two parted ways and both were smiling as they did so. Five: Aron He sat in his dorm room, half present and half absent. His body was there, yes, but his mind was elsewhere. Brendon had said he would call when the Muscle Gut Club was ready to meet him. The first day he waited with excitement hoping he would get the call that night. It didn’t come. The next day his phone rang and his heart skipped a beat. To his dismay, it was only his mother checking in. The third day classes started and he had to walk from one end of the campus to the other to reach them all. He hoped in doing so that he would run into Brendon again or some other member of the club. No such luck. Now as he absentmindedly stared at his computer screen he wondered Did the club not want to meet me? Was Brendon just toying with me? It hurt to think about it. His roommate, Jason Ho, sat in the room as well, earphones on and head in a calculus book. Aron had learned very little about him in the past few days, aside from the fact that he was a Biology major from upstate New York who was crazy about some band he had never heard of. He had eaten with Jason once and after getting no more than three sentences out of him decided he was better off eating his meals alone. Jason didn’t mind. Aron heard a knock on the door. He turned to answer, but Jason leapt from his bed and beat him to it. Four Chinese looking students, 2 boys and 2 girls entered into the room. Hugs were shared, kisses given, and hands shook as Aron watched. They spoke to Aron briefly and he was given a barrage of names he would never remember. He caught them mention a restaurant and within two minutes they were gone, leaving Aron alone. He had several options. He could study, continue surfing the web, go for an evening walk, or masturbate. Truthfully he wanted to do none of it. He had no test to study for and unlike his roommate he was not the type to read a textbook without a reason, though he knew he should. The web had started to bore him. He could only stand so many Facebook posts, forum threads, and funny videos. He had done enough walking to get to class earlier that day. That left masturbation. Masturbation was his old standby. His favorite pastime. It was a stress reliever and form of cardio. In the past year he had only masturbated to Muscle Gut Club videos. It was an obsession. He would do it now but after meeting Brendon and knowing they were so close to him he only wanted the real thing. A video wouldn’t do. He walked over to his bed, removed his shoes and laid down. As soon as he closed his eyes his phone rang. Aron jumped from the bed so fast he nearly fell over. He ran over to his desk and answered. “Hello, Aron, it’s Brendon. When’s your next day off?” “I have no classes Thursday.” He tried his best not to let the excitement show in his voice. “Perfect. The club wants to meet you. Come by at Noon. I’ll text you the directions.” “Ok, great. Thank you Brendon.” “No, thank you,” Brendon said before hanging up. Aron hardly slept that night. Instead he thought of what he would say to the club members and what he would do. The next day he couldn’t concentrate on his classes. His mind raced from thought to thought. What if I say the wrong thing? What if they don’t like me? God, I hope they like me. On Thursday at 11:30 am Aron set off on his journey. He was happy and nervous, so nervous he ate nothing that morning. He only drank a glass of orange juice. The club lived at 43 Stone Street on the other side of town. Luckily between the Campus run buses and the city buses there were trips to and from that part of town every half hour. He took one of the campus buses which were painted an obnoxiously bright blue. It was packed with students heading to off campus housing or going shopping. Aron couldn’t find a seat so he stood in the middle making awkward eye contact with the bus driver in his rearview mirror. His short arms just barely reached the overhead pole. On sharp turns he bumped into the students next to him despite trying his hardest to stay steady. He just didn’t have the weight for it. When he reached his stop he took a breath of relief. He felt like he was being released from a tin of sardines. The ride had only lasted 10 minutes but it felt like it had been one hour. There were no bus stops on Stone street so he had to walk the rest of the way. He took note of how nice the neighborhood was, not rich nice (He grew up in a neighborhood like that), but middle-class nice. Most students who lived off campus rented places in the poorer part of town. The Muscle Gut Club must be doing very well for themselves. At 11:54 he walked up to the front door at 43 Stone Street. It was a white shingled, 2 story Dutch colonial with a yard enclosed by high hedges and a fence. Aron motioned to ring the doorbell but paused momentarily. Nerves again. Surprisingly the door opened. Brendon stood in the frame filling it with his size. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a pair of black nylon shorts, his muscle gut in plain view. His arms stood out from his sides at an angle, lifted up by his well-developed lats. “No, I’m not psychic. I saw you walking up.” Brendon said with a smile. “Come on in and meet the guys.” Aron took one step in the door and was hit with the strongest odor of male musk he could imagine. It smelled of pure masculinity. He stood still, briefly overcome with arousal. “Any day now,” Brendon called from another room. Aron quickly ran toward the sound of the voice, nearly tripping over his feet. When he entered the room he froze like a deer in headlights. All four members of the club sat in the room on two couches staring directly at him. Edmond was wearing only a pair of red boxer briefs stretched to the limits by his massive quads and by his mammoth manhood. He was looking exceptionally lean. Aron wanted to leap forward and place his hands all over his deeply cut cobblestone abs, but he maintained his composure. Thomas wore a white wife beater and black briefs. His fitness model physique, while the smallest of the four, was as impressive as they come. His shoulders and chest were unbelievably developed. His waist formed a perfect v-taper. Aron swooned at his Adonis belt and at the sight of his large, masculine Adam’s apple. Daniel was seated closest to Aron. He was shirtless and wore only a pair of grey pajama bottoms. He was almost as big as Brendon and the palest of the bunch. His muscles were clearly well defined even if he wasn’t very lean. Daniels hairy chest and rugged beard gave him a sexy lumberjack appeal. Aron couldn’t believe this was finally happening. As he looked around the room all he could manage to say was a shy “hi”. “Guys, this is obviously the Freshman I was telling you about, Aron Ocampo.” Brendon said. “He’s kind of cute like you said,” Thomas looked from Aron to Brandon. “In a mousey way.” The other members nodded. “He looks kind of frail, though.” Edmund said with an apprehensive look. “You’re not sick are you?” “No!” Aron replied, shaking his head. “Sir.” He added. The members snickered and shared glances with each other. “Sir? Haha. What a polite little twink.” Said Edmond. “I like him already.” It was the first time Aron had been called a twink by someone. Edmond stood up and walked over to him. He towered over Aron and got so close that the little twink could smell his masculine scent. It smelled good. Without warning Edmond picked him up. “God he’s so light.” He exclaimed. Edmond turned him on his side and began curling him with next to no effort at all. Up and down, up and down Aron went, 15 times. Then Edmond proceeded to press him overhead 10 times. Aron was in heaven. Daniel stood up. “Let me have a go at him.” “He’ll be nothing for you,” Edmund said as he handed him over. Daniel pressed him overhead several times and then lowered one of his arms, holding Aron overhead one handed. He walked over to Brendon (Still with Aron overhead) and said, “You got a real small one this time.” Brendon stood up and took Aron from Daniel and placed him on the ground as easily as if he were a doll. Aron was now surrounded by a triangle of shirtless muscle gods all towering over him. Thomas sat on the couch smiling. “Don’t mind them Aron, they just like showing off how strong they are.” “Someone get the measuring tape,” said Edmond. Brendon left and within an instant he was back with the measuring tape. “Strip.” Edmond commanded Aron. Aron did as he ordered, not wanting to displease the muscle god. He stood before them in his size small white briefs. They began to measure him all over, gaping, and snickering. “Wow only 11 inch arms, my 12-year-old brother has arms bigger than that,” said Edmond. “Holy shit my arms are as big as his thighs,” said Daniel. This humiliation would have sent Aron crying anywhere else, but from these muscle gods it was a turn on. His little cock stiffened as the muscle gut club poked, prodded, and studied his boney body. “Hey look, he’s getting hard.” Thomas pointed. “Pull down your underwear,” Edmund ordered. Aron again obeyed. Edmond took the measuring tape and held it next to Aron’s little cock. “Five inches and fully hard,” he said, looking around at the club. Edmund whipped his mammoth member from his boxer briefs and held It next to Aron’s “Twice as thick and twice as long.” He smiled with pride. “Let’s face it, though, comparing your cock to an average man’s wouldn’t even be fair, much less to that.” Daniel said as he pointed to Aron’s. “You can lift your underwear,” Brendon said. There was a touch of sympathy in his voice. He must not realize I love it. Every minute of it. “I really don’t care about his cock size. You’ll be fucking him, not the other way around,” Daniel said, “And I really don’t care about his looks since people watch our videos for our looks not the Twink’s.” “Is there a point here?” Edmond asked. “My point is. You say he wants to serve us.” He looked at Brendon. “Well that’s what I’m interested in. Will he be good at his job?” He turned back to Aron. Now was the moment Aron had been waiting for. He had been thinking about what he would say for day and finally he was ready to say it. “I’m gay,” Aron began, “and I love muscle men more than anything in the whole world. I’ve watched all of your YouTube videos an even bought some of your XXX videos. I masturbate to you. I dream about you. I’ve always wanted to meet you. I know I’ll never have muscles like yours. I know I’ll never be able to compare to gods like you, but all I ask is the chance to be around you, to serve, to bask in the presence of your massive frames.” “I will serve you with devotion and without question. I can cook and I will cook huge protein rich meals for you to fuel your growth. I will do your laundry and clean your rooms. If your tense after a workout, I’ll massage you. I’ll wipe the sweat from your brow. If your horny you can fuck me or if you just want a blowjob just say the word. I’ll wear whatever you want me to while in the house. I will truly be your slave and you will be my muscle masters.” Thomas’ mouth was agape. Edmund had a devious smile across his face. Brendon looked flabbergasted. Daniel simply clapped. He looked genuinely impressed by the speech. “Did you have that planned or was it off the top of your head?” asked Brendon. “Uh, kinda planned,” replied Aron, scratching his head. “Get on your knees.” Commanded Edmund. Aron did so. The members of the club got up and formed a semi-circle around him, staring down at him. “Kiss our feet.” Edmund ordered. Aron gently kissed each of their feet. “That’s so a slave remembers his place.” Edmund said. “At our feet.” Said Brendon, cutting in. “Rise,” said Edmond. Aron did so as each of the members struck a front double bicep pose. “Now kiss our biceps.” Aron kissed each of their biceps. “That’s so a slave remembers why he serves,” Edmund said. “He serves because of these muscles,” Brendon said, again finishing Edmund’s statement. “You start Saturday,” said Brendon. “Be here at 9 am to start breakfast. Here’s a key, and bring some stuff to cook us dinner. You won’t have time to go shopping after you get here. You’ll be very busy.” He grinned. Aron dressed. The club said their ‘until next times’ and he left for the 1:30 pm bus. He couldn’t wait for Saturday. Six: Edmund Edmund Moreno stood in his bathroom flexing in the mirror. He squeezed his muscles tight and hit every major bodybuilding pose like he was standing on stage at the Olympia. He imagined the crowd cheering him and admiring his perfect physique. I can’t believe I came in 3rd at the Junior Classics last week. I had the best conditioning on stage and the best symmetry. He had stepped on stage at the Classics weighing in at 195 pounds of lean hard muscle and standing 6 foot 1 inch, but he wasn’t the biggest. The 1st and 2nd place winners outweighed him by 15 pounds and that gave them the edge. Next time I’ll be fucking huge. He felt a hand touch his shoulder. His girlfriend, Bianca Bui, had creeped up behind him and began squeezing his muscles as he flexed. She loved his muscles. “Having fun?” she asked. “Seeing what I need to work on. I could bring my traps up and my lats-” “You look perfect to me babe.” “Well, the judges didn’t think so,” Edmund frowned slightly. “I have a better physique than anyone on campus, but that won’t win the competition. I need to be better than anyone in the state.” He bent down and kissed Bianca on the lips. She was of Vietnamese decent, 5 foot 5 inches, and 119 pounds with the perfect female figure. She wore pink silk pajama bottoms and a white tank top. “I guess you’ll be going on a big bulk.” She said. “The biggest I’ve done yet. I plan on putting on at least 35 or 40 pounds before cutting.” “Then you won’t be doing much cardio…” She pouted jokingly. Edmund laughed. “I’ll always have time for cardio.” He pulled down his boxers revealing his manhood. “I’ll just have to eat a big breakfast after to make up for all the calories I burn. Edmond pulled off her top and cupped her firm breasts. She giggled and removed her pajama bottoms. Edmund kissed her neck while slowly pushing down her panties. He lifted her up and placed her easily on his cock. She moaned with pleasure as he pressed her against the bathroom wall with his muscular chest. He ran his fingers through her hair and took in her flowery scent. “Carry me to bed.” She said between moans. He grabbed her supple legs and she placed her arms around his thick neck, his manhood penetrating her deeply. They fell together on the bed. Edmund moved in her wet pussy with slow steady strokes. She grabbed his horse shoe triceps and clawed at him as he began to pound her harder and faster. Her moans of pleasure grew louder as she began to orgasm. “Yes! Baby! Yes!” she screamed. “You like how daddy fucks you?” “Oh yes!” Just as Ed was about to reach climax he pulled out a blew his load on her face. She began to lap up his warm, creamy, salty spunk. They lay next to each other covered in sweat. Ed’s muscles glistened in the morning light that streamed in from the bedroom window. “Good cardio,” said Edmund. Bianca laughed. “Very good. I’ll go make you that big breakfast,” she said while wiping cum from around her eyes. “Can you walk to the kitchen?” Edmund snickered. She rolled her yes. “I’m used to it.” She got up and walked out of the room with a slight limp. It’s hard to get used to a 9 inch cock. He patted his manhood as he lay on the bed and relaxed. He didn’t know who he liked fucking more: men or women. Really he would fuck anyone as long as he liked the way they looked. He had fucked average guys, muscle guys, twinks, skinny girls, chubby girls, Black, White, Latin, and Asian. Any warm hole for his cock. He had only had two serious relationships, though. One with a guy over a year and a half ago and the one with Bianca. Bianca had walked up to him one night in a bar and asked to feel his arm. Ever one to show off, he struck a front double bicep pose for her. She gawked at his size, and he was smaller then than he was now. She confided in him that she had never been with a bodybuilder before. They fucked that night and had been Fucking ever since. She liked muscle and she liked cooking. Two things that made her perfect for Edmund and the club. Several times a month she would cook for the whole club, but she only had desires for Edmund. She didn’t even have a problem with his bisexuality telling him “I don’t mind if you fuck guys every now and then to satisfy the urge so long as you use protection and I’m the only woman.” Edmond could smell the scent of food wafting from the kitchen. He rose out of bed and put on a pair of boxers. As he entered the kitchen Bianca turned to him. She was topless, wearing only her panties. She often walked around topless when she knew the other club members were out. Thomas was at a photo shoot and Daniel and Brendon were in class. They’d be gone most of the day. “I was just about to call you,” Said Bianca. “Smells good,” Ed said as he sat down at the kitchen table. Bianca began to serve him his breakfast. First she sat a down a six egg cheese omelet with 2 turkey sausage links. Edmond dove in with his fork like he hadn’t eaten in days. While he chewed on eggs and sausage she placed a plate of 3 whole wheat French toasts with whipped cream and berries and a bowl of Greek yogurt and granola in front of him. He wasted no time attacking that a well. She ate two scrambled eggs a piece of toast and a banana. “This is great babe.” Ed managed to say between bites and mmms. Bianca beamed with pride. She loved seeing a man enjoy her cooking. When Ed was done eating he washed the meal down with a tall glass of whole milk. He patted his distended belly. The food baby pushing out his abs made it look like he had a tortoise shell for a stomach. “I won’t be over here much in the next week Eddy Bear,” Said Bianca. “Huh, why?” Ed let out a loud belch. “I’ve got a huge test coming up that I need to study for. When I’m not in class I’ll be studying at my place. Here I might be too distracted.” Her gaze left his face and moved down to his muscles. “Already,” Said Edmond, “School just started back.” “Pre-med,” she said, shaking her head. “It might just kill me.” “With the money you’ll be making I guess the hard work will be worth it,” Edmund said. “After I pay off the student loans.” Bianca stood up and cleared the dishes. She started to wash them. “Don’t,” said Edmund. “You’re gonna wash them?” she looked apprehensive. “We’re going to be breaking in a new house boy on Saturday and I want to make sure he has a lot of work to do.” Bianca stopped, and stared at him. “Is he cute.” “I think so.” Edmund smiled. “He’s smaller than you.” “No way.” She looked surprised. Edmond laughed. “What’s his name?” “Aron Ocampo” “Will you fuck him?” Edmunds face was now serious. “Probably, but I haven’t forgotten our deal. You’re the only one for me baby.” He got up and pecked her on the lips. She looked up at him and seemed satisfied. “Don’t work him too hard baby,” said Bianca. “We’ve got to see what he’s made of. Make sure he’s really a submissive.” Bianca showered and changed into her clothes. Before leaving she informed him that she had fixed his protein shake and put it in the fridge for him to drink later They parted with one final kiss. Edmund put on his workout shorts and headed to the garage gym for a heavy shoulder session. Truthfully, he was glad Bianca would be gone for a week. He wanted to use that time to get to know Aron better. Much better. He hoisted up two 65-pound dumbbells and began to shoulder press them. With each rep he could feel his muscles becoming pumped. He concentrated on the muscle contraction as he watched himself in the mirror. In his mind he wasn’t lifting weights. He was lifting the twink, Aron, over his head again and again. His cock grew hard at the thought of Aron’s frail thin body next to his own robust hulking frame. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. More to come...
  21. I've been here for quite some time. I've always considered writing a story in the forums but never got the time (and inspiration). Plus, I'm slightly cyber-shy. Anyway, here's the first chapter of the story I'm working on. I'll be posting the following chapters here. Comments and suggestions are very much welcome. I hope you enjoy. RIGHT STAR CHAPTER I The sight weighs heavily over me. It was almost evening. At the distance is Mount Tulac, that sinister mountain that looms beyond the infinite rice fields. That immense shadow set itself up against the soft tangerine sky. I was inside the pick-up truck passing through the highway. Another truck follows us behind. Despite the cool twilight air, it was hot inside. There was just too little room in the vehicle. “I know it’s hard for you, Keith.” Sarah said, her eyes on the road, her hands on the wheel. We are all silent. It may remain so until we return to Manila tomorrow evening. I’d rather think of something else. The moment only speaks of what I fear most. In such cases, memory is a better friend. I was in my room at my boarding house five months ago. It was Sunday and the roads were too quiet for this chaotic city. It was a fine morning. I was looking at the university grounds from my window as I sipped from a cup of instant coffee. I picked up the newspaper on my study table. There were update articles about the Kolossos's Sons. It said in some part of the world, there was another. Most interesting ones were about some president or some heartthrob who depended on his former looks. They were too many and I was hoping for more solutions and less sensationalism. I flipped to Sports for my morning read. A few words from my Horoscope: Aries—“Others may be getting ahead of you. Don’t despair! Expect something greater for yourself.” Yeah. I was hoping to impress Coach Muller tomorrow at basketball practice. I know I’m good but if I was taller— There was an angry knock on the door. It must be Daryl. His luggage had been here before him last night. He had brought in more things than before. I guess Christmas had changed a lot of people. “Hey,” Daryl said, his face seemed to hover under the door frame. I stared at those sleepy eyes and that boyish smile with a dimple. I kissed him, my nose touching his glasses. “Miss me?” he said. “Very much. Come in.” “I would need your help for that.” “Give me that bag. There. Why don’t we warm up first?” We chuckled. He offered his right forearm first. It was as thick and meaty as my thigh. I eyed its supple mounds and crevices like a newly discovered knowledge. I wrapped my hands around it and pulled in with all my strength. I heard something get stuck in the doorframe. “Geez. I thought I had this figured out.” He twisted and turned his body to let himself in. When he finally did, I took a good look at his body. He was breathing hard and sweating a lot. I can see his exhaustion in his drenched white shirt which turned pink hinting at his light brown skin underneath. It hugged whatever solid form God can think of in a primordial explosion. That Big Bang formed his present mound pecs like surging tanks about to crush me, his massive legs that remind me of foundational steel frame, his apelike arms that were hung relaxed in a diagonal angle. Thick veins snaked around his body only to disappear under his meager clothing. Daryl was all meat in all side. He was trying to keep balance. I moved back a few paces to give him space. His chest was heaving to take in the hot air. I couldn’t recall now how I used to be able to wrap my arms around this man. “Wow,” I said. “Yeah. You like it?” “How tall are you?” “Nine feet, three inches.” He unpacked his backpack and put his things into his wardrobe which come up only to his chest. “Weigh about 986 pounds. Tito Jed had to scour the marketplace for a scale big enough for me.” “You’re one of the big ones?” “I was the biggest in Hermandad.” I was glad to finally see this new man. It was not a surprise, however. I’ve already seen pictures of his new body on Instagram and I’ve felt my hungriest the moment I chanced upon his post. But his presence here transformed this plain room altogether. Every object, including myself, gravitated towards this mega-planet. I started packing my gym stuff. “Keith, do you mind if I take my shirt off?” We laughed. He lifted up the shirt’s hem to his dark nipples. I saw his abs and obliques cut to utmost definition. They were tight yet bulky and they danced as he struggled to take his shirt off pass his chest. “Fuck it.” Dylan grabbed his collar and ripped his shirt down to the hem. He ripped his sleeves too. His glistened torso shone inside the dim room. It was like an intricate work of art, wet with flowing sweat. He growled, having set himself free. His musky scent spiced up the hot air. It aroused my nostrils and sent my mind to the fresh woods after a rain. I worried my clothes might catch his odor. But then, I would carry everywhere the imprint of this pure man and would have to bear its sensual lightness. Daryl dried himself off with his ripped and crumpled shirt. Gently, his hands moved from his chest down to his abs, overlooking unreachable crevices. He then wiped his hairy armpits and further back to his wing-wide lats. “Keith, can you do my back?” “Sure.” Daryl sat on the floor. He handed me his shirt and my fingers got wet I felt like wringing his torn clothing. I proceeded to his instructions and had to stretch my arms and push myself in to dry his immense back off. “Sorry, Keith. It’s kinda hard for me these days. I was lucky I was able to fit inside the bus coming here. But I had to walk all the way from the terminal. No taxi would let me in.” “Mmm—I wonder why. By the way, Tita had Benji and Will reassigned to another room. Said she can only fit the two of us here.” Daryl stood up and pulled down his skintight shorts which got stuck on his trunk thighs. I assisted him to ease his struggle. His flaccid cock, almost two feet long, freed itself out of his confinement. He held and eyed it for a while before he scratched his balls. “Had to give up underwear,” he said. “They’re really getting uncomfortable.” He took out a thick book from his headboard shelf. He lied down on the two conjoined beds Tita had prepared earlier. The beds slightly creaked under his extreme weight. This wild beast overwhelmed my senses, yet at the same time, this beast appeared as gentle as a water buffalo grazing on the fresh grass and not to be disturbed. Daryl’s eyes were glued to the book. “You’re doing anything today?” I asked. “I’ll probably just read. Want to be ahead of this semester’s requirements. Latin American History. Maybe we should travel to Mexico or Bolivia if we have the money.” “I’m going to the gym. Wanna come with me?” Daryl smirked. “O shit. Yeah.” “It’s not that. You know I don’t like working out.” I finished packing my gym bag. I looked out the window to check the weather. It was cloudy but there’s little chance of rain. Then I heard a slight moan behind me. Daryl was stroking his newly awakened cock. It stood almost three feet tall. Its veins magnified the presence of his manhood. He was still holding the book but his eyes were closed. He was whispering to himself but the words were incomprehensible. Aware of my presence, he stared at me for for minutes. “Keith, you think I’m acting weird?” “Not really. You’ve always been a porn star.” “I don’t know. I think I’m going insane lately. They say it’s just normal.” “I’d be doing what you’re doing if I have that body.” “You miss being the bigger man? “I’ll get used to this.” “I’m scared.” I laid my head on his hard chest. I then caught in the familiar odor of his minty deodorant mixed with raw his own sweat. He flexed his pecs and my head wobbled with the earthquake. We chuckled. From my angle, I can see his monumental cock and it seemed to breathe on its own. Meanwhile, copious precum flowed down the thick shaft. We stayed like that for five minutes. “Daryl,” I said. I turned over to face him. “I don’t care what you become. To me, you’re still that adorable guy I met at the bookstore. You’re that smart and brilliant man who tells me so much about the world and makes my life so extraordinary.” “Wow. I hope you also like this upgraded version.” “How does it feel?” I whispered. “You have no fucking idea.” He flexed his arms. I followed his signal and I bit my lips. I then caressed his bicep with my eager hands as I traced the intricate path of his thick veins. I kissed him hard. My hands began their exploration of this new world. “I need to go,” I said. I moved away from Daryl. He looked a bit concerned. I picked up my gym bag and I put my own keys in my pocket. “Don’t you wanna—?” “Let’s do it tonight. I want the time’s perfect for my first voyage. You sure you’re staying here?” “Yeah. I’ll just call for pizza or something.” “You’re jacking off this afternoon?” “You bet.” “I better get you some buckets—and a mop.” “How do you—?” “Trust me. You’re not the only one in this house.”
  22. Scriptboy

    disability Big, Brawny and Blind

    Big, Brawny and Blind A short story by scriptboy It all started around the third day of the semester when I received the call from the Office of Blind Services on my cell phone. They had received my application to become a guide for another student during my Junior year at the community college and they were happy to get me paired up with a prospective student. Since I had an uncle who was blind as well, I already had experience working with people who were bind or visually impaired so signing up for this was a complete no-brainer. The lady at the office was extremely excited that I had signed up. She told me that most Guides were females and I was the only male Guide who had signed up all year. That was another incentive right there. Maybe I would end up working with some cute college girls? Who knows. So, they called me up and asked me to show up at the local restaurant which was down the street from the dorm where this student lived. It was also right down the street from the gym. I thought it sounded interesting that a visually impaired student worked out at a gym, so this would be fun for sure. My name is Alex Weas and I’m just a junior in college, age 21. What was just a meeting between my blind student would end up changing my life completely. I showed up at “The Cave”, a small sandwich shop near campus. Which had a good crowd that afternoon. I was supposed to meet the current guide, Felicia Snow, there. So, as soon as I walked in, I started looking for a young lady and a blind student. Of course, I had never met either one of them, so I had no idea what they looked like. I scanned the area as I looked around, when I finally spotted a young lady in the back corner sitting with another young guy at her table. “Uhh…. Hi…. I’m looking for Felicia? Is that you?” I stuttered since I just didn’t know. I didn’t have a good look at the guy since he was sitting in the corner where it was rather dark. “Hi! Oh, are you Alex? Good, you finally made it! Great! Well, Alex, this is Hunter Hollander, your new student! He is a freshman!” she said as she got up and shook my hand. I’m only 5-foot-6 inches tall and this young lady was about my height. She had long, black hair and deep brown eyes. She grabbed her handbag and she quickly turned around to address the boy. “Hunter! Come over here! Your new guide has arrived!” Suddenly, the boy moved over, and he slid off the booth, so he could stand up on his two feet. When he got up, I realized how tall he was. He was at least six inches taller than me, six feet tall, and much wider. Now, I’m a skinny, short guy, so this kid was BIG! “Uhh…. Hi!” the boy smiled as he extended his right hand while holding his cane in his left one. “Hi! I’m Alex Weas! You must be Hunter?” I said as I shook his hand. His hand was big, and he had a firm grip. Of course, He was wearing a raincoat with long sleeves, so I couldn’t tell what he looked like other than his face. He had straight, short, black hair and a friendly face. Of course, I had no ideas what his eyes were like since he had them closed the entire time. “Nice to meet ya, Alex!” Hunter said to me. “I’m so happy to have you as my new guide!” “Great! Now, Hunter, if you need anything, you call me, okay?” Felicia said as she seemed to be in a hurry to leave the restaurant. “I’m supposed to meet someone here and I’m already late!” “Thank you so much for helping me get oriented around here…” Hunter said to her as he embraced her. “You’ve been a big help…” Just then, a tall, blond guy walked in with an angry look on his face. He looked around and he became even angrier when he saw Hunter hug Felicia near the entrance to the restaurant. “FELICIA! I’ve been waiting outside for you for the last TEN MINUTES! ARE you DONE babysitting that misfit? Can we GO NOW?” the blond guy shouted at her. The blond guy grabbed her arm and yanked her away from Hunter’s embrace, almost causing the blind boy to stumble over. “RON! Can you wait? May I say goodbye to my student? Come on!” Felicia shouted angrily. “Wow! Calling me a misfit isn’t very nice!” Hunter shouted back, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Oh yeah? Well, what are ya gonna do about it?” Ron growled as he marched up to Hunter and grabbed his raincoat with one hand. But Hunter reached out with his right arm and grabbed Ron’s shirt collar, and, using incredible strength, he lifted Ron’s entire body several inches off the ground! Then, he held him up, with his feet dangling in mid-air, until he tossed him to the floor, hitting one of the wooden chairs and knocking it over, breaking it in the process. People got up and the manager came. It became very quiet in the restaurant. “Hey! No fighting in my restaurant! Do you realize you just tossed this man up against one of my chairs and broke it?” the manager shouted at Hunter. “I should call the police!” “No sir, he didn’t realize that…. I apologize!” Felicia said calmly. “What do you mean, he didn’t realize that?” the manager asked her. “Didn’t he SEE IT? He broke one of my chairs!!!” “No, he didn’t see it because…. He’s blind.” There was a murmur coming from the crowd as Ron struggled to get up while Felicia tried to help him. I stood next to Hunter, holding his thick arm. “Come, Ron…. Let’s get outta here….” Felicia said to Ron as she helped him get up… “You’re gonna pay for this, you PUNK!” Ron shouted at the blind boy as he turned around and marched out of the restaurant. Then, I grabbed Hunter by the wrist and pulled him towards the table where he was sitting earlier. “Hey…. Let’s finish our lunch and then I’ll take you back to the dorm, okay?” I said to him. “I don’t want any more trouble in this place!” Under that raincoat sleeve I could feel a lot of muscle…. BIG muscle. I think there was a lot MORE to the big, blind boy than I realized! What was he hiding? We each ate a burger and we had a milkshake. I paid for his lunch. Then, he grabbed his cane and he walked out the door. I walked right behind him. “So, Hunter…. What do you like to do for fun?” I asked him. “Well, I like to help blind athletes. I’m really big into sports!” he replied as we both walked back to his dorm. He had told me which dorm he lived in, so I escorted him to the building. “Really? Very cool! Do you…. Uhh…. Play any sports yourself?” I asked him. I wasn’t sure if that was the right question to ask a blind guy. I mean, how can he play sports if he can’t see what he’s doing? “Yeah! I lift weights! Which is why I was hoping I was gonna get a new guide was a guy!” he responded. “That was… We could go to the gym together and I don’t have to ask other guys at the gym to help me!” “Oh, sure! I’ll take you to the gym, big guy!” I replied. As soon as we entered the dorm room, he took off his rain coat and shoes… Then the jeans came off… Hunter was left wearing just his tank top and his underwear. “Whoa!” I gasped out loud when I got my first look at the kid standing before me. He was big, tall, and ripped! His shoulders were round and wide. His arms were thick like pythons, and covered with thick, long veins all over. He had well-defined delts and traps across his broad shoulders. His chest was like two large spheres of muscle sticking out from his upper body. His abdominal muscles resembled a washboard and his quads were bigger and wider than tree trunks, completely covered with thick, long veins all over! “H-H-Hunter! You…. You’re a bodybuilder!” I exclaimed at the sight of the big, blind muscle boy. “You got muscles everywhere!” “Yeah…. I can’t see them…. But I can FEEL them!” he chuckled as he flexed his right arms while he ran his left hand over his large, bulging bicep, which started to swell up from his arm together with his triceps until it was the size of a bowling ball which was completely covered with veins all over. “Holy shit! No wonder you could easily pick up the guy in the restaurant! You’re REALLY strong!” I said as I just gawked at the big muscle guy. What an incredible sight. And, he was only a Freshman! “Well… I wanna apologize for that! The dude pissed me off when he called me a misfit. Blind dudes get no respect at all. We’re always treated like outcasts around here…” Hunter said sadly. “Hey, man… I can’t blame you! I mean… You can’t help it that you got a disability. I think it’s way cool that you’re spending so much time lifting weights in the gym!” “Yeah… But…. Somebody needs to help me and show me where the weights are. I can’t do it alone!” Hunter sighed. “Otherwise I’m lost when I go to the gym. None of the signs are in Braille and it’s too noisy in the gym for me to hear my screen-reader software…” “Uhmm… I don’t lift weights at all… But… You can show me!” I shrugged. “You’re the muscle guy in our new team from now on!” “Awesome! From now on…. You’ll be my eyes…. And I’ll be your muscles!” Hunter smiled. I felt like this was going to be the beginning of a very special friendship….
  23. ABSQRST

    Liquid Manhood- Chapter Three

    Thanks for all the comments, part four should be up by the weekend at the earliest. Read Part One HERE Read Part Two HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Three “You are in very good health Mr Wington” the doctor finally said after poking and checking Barrett out for nearly an hour The doctor had seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in having Barrett strip, the older man’s hands running along the ridges of Barrett’s stomach and chest. Ridges that to most people would of been considered amazing to possess, but Barrett knew they weren’t as cut as they had been last week. “We’ll have to wait for the test results to come back in a few days, but from what I can tell you are a fit healthy man in his early 20s” the doctor added, flicking through a chart Barrett looked the doctor in his almost-orange-with-fake-tan face, annoyance plastered over Barrett’s handsome, but exhausted features. “Nearly two months back when you gave me my start of the year physical you said I was the most healthy person you’d ever saw” Barrett explained Even back then the doctor has spent more time than he needed to feel out Barrett’s body. He remembered the doctor fingering each solid brick of Barrett’s abs. Shaking off the memory of the obvious groping he heaved himself off the examination table, pulling at the bottom of his shirt to hide his still amazingly ripped abs. He’d been doing it more and more recently, he just had this thought in the back of his head that he was on display, like he was suddenly all self conscious. He even dug out an old long sleeved shirt from his closet to hide the thick toned pillars he called arms. The Barrett Wington who had always tried to not wear a shirt suddenly didn't want anyone to look at him. “Yes…well Mr Wington, that was last month” the doctor replied “You still are in very good shape, and very good health” There it was, ’very good’, not ‘amazing’ or ‘incredible’. Barrett was used to being perfect, ‘very good’ was a demotion. “Like I said when you arrived and when you called last week” the doctor continued “You might just have a bug, happens a lot in the first few months of the academic year” Barrett just nodded, the doctor was most likely right. A virus or infection was the only explanation for how Barrett felt, and how it seemed the entire football team were feeling the same. The doctor handed Barrett a small box of pills. “Takes these twice a day” the doctor said “Should give your immune system a little boost” Barrett just nodded again, finding it harder to find his voice, like he was getting nervous around people. As he left the doctor called back “Come back in a few days, we’ll have your results then, but remember to take it easy.” Barrett ignored him and slowly walked back to the frat house, scratching at his crotch the entire way. His jock strap was still itchy, even though he’d had it washed everyday since the itching started. He probably shouldn't wear it anymore, but he just couldn't get comfy in other underwear. It was like he’d gotten used to the itchy jock. Going to the local clinic felt like a waste of time, he’d felt like shit all week. It had messed with his workouts, even football practice had been terrible. Coach Peters nearly burst a vein bellowing at the failing athletes, and at Barrett especially. But Barrett had a horrible thought in the back of his mind, a virus could cause every symptom he had. It would cause the soreness, the exhaustion, the failure to be an active jock, but even with Barrett’s basic knowledge of biology he knew that nothing could make your feet a size smaller. He stared at his feet as he walked, both out of a want not to make eye contact with others and to also examine his feet. Barrett’s size 15 sneakers were feeling loose. Maybe it was time Barrett pulled out his old size 14s. Barrett’s next step ended up with his shoe being left behind. His eyes widened and Barrett quickly slipped his foot back into the too big sneaker. His pace quickened and he crossed his meaty arms over his still impressive chest defensively, on second thought he’d borrow a frat bro’s size 13s. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Chris and Melvin sat in the greasy pizzeria just outside of campus, huddled in a booth a back. The red leather seats fraying and the table still stained from the meals of the last few dozen diners. The dingy restaurant was Paulie’s Pizza, a place famous on campus as the go to place for a cheap meal, just as long as you liked pizza. Paulie, if that was his name was a Persian who clothes were always stained with pizza grease, he was as Italian as Super Mario. But Melvin had to admit he did make a good pizza. The nerdy student was chowing down on a large slice of pepperoni. Chris just stared over his expensive sunglasses at the other students in the restaurant, tightly held in his hand was a specimen cup of emerald green liquid, it was the elixir. A week had passed since they'd started collecting the liquid by draining the football team and Chris had finally decided to test the elixir out on a human. Melvin’s roommate had been very encouraged by the change to Burt the cactus, and even more encouraged by the change in the football team. Everyday Chris would describe all the small changes he’d seen in the athletes, he barely breathed as he hurried out the sighting of Barrett Wington’s shoe falling off his foot yesterday. Melvin was sure that Chris has jerked off that night thinking about Barrett’s feet shrinking. “See anyone yet” Melvin said between bites of pizza Chris nodded with a small smirk on his lips. “Stefan, that German student who's staying for a semester” Chris said in a quiet voice Melvin craned his head around to look for Stefan, he wasn't being subtle. Stefan was sitting at one of the tables in the middle of the restaurant, he was alone and clicking on his phone. He was fair skinned and very blonde. How Melvin imagined all Germans to look, he was lean, but probable had a very average body under his loose hoody. “Why him” Melvin asked returning his gaze to Chris Chris shook his head at Melvin, angry at Melvin’s obvious stares. He explained slowly and with fierce patronisation in his voice “Stefan is the best candidate because he’ll be returning to Germany in a month” Melvin nodded, his voice a little shaken by Chris’ mild anger “So his change won’t attract much attention” Chris nodded and then pulled himself out of the booth. Melvin watched Chris slip past the tables and other patrons, he passed the counter where plates of food waited for the waiters to delivery them to their tables. As he passed Chris poured the sample cup of elixir over one of the plates. Chris quickly vanished into restaurant restroom, always trying not to draw suspicion. Melvin again with his eyes obviously pointed at Stefan watched the short dark haired waiter with a name tag reading ‘Zack’ place a plate of elixir soaked pineapple pizza at Stefan’s table. Chris returned, maybe walking a little too fast. He slapped Melvin on the shoulder to get him to stop staring at Stefan. Melvin looked down at his half eaten pizza slice, picking at the stringy cheese. He heard Chris swear under his breath. “What” Melvin asked without looking “He fucking left” Chris muttered, slapping the table, no one looked towards the bang in the loud restaurant Melvin looked over to Stefan’s table, and it was empty. The pizza hadn't been touched. “Looks like he got a text, and he just left” Chris explained “The idiot paid for the pizza and everything” “So…another target” Melvin asked Chris nodded “Yea….I’ll do some more searching and find someone to dose” The two roommates got up and left, Chris muttering about how stupid people were and how they never did what they should do. Chris not even letting Melvin finish his pizza. Neither of them noticing Zack the waiter with the greasy olive toned skin return to clean the table, or how Zack even though he hated pineapple eagerly ate the abandoned elixir soaked pizza on his way back to the kitchen as Paulie didn't let his waiters have a lunch break. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Sean kept pulling at his shirt, but not because it was tight or because it was riding up his belly. He was pulling at it because it was loose, it hung around his neck and stomach. For the first time in years he was standing in front of and checking himself out in a mirror. The sink below it was flushed lime green, Sean had just washed his mouth out with Mountain Dew. He’d noticed the bottle was a darker green than normal, and the taste was a little different. More savory, almost salty, maybe he’d just picked up a soon to be out of date bottle. The strange tasting beverage wasn’t taking up much of Sean’s attention though, the sight in the mirror was more interesting. Even though he looked just like he always remembered, ginger, chubby and below average, there was something different. He wasn't as plump as before, his face and neck were thinner. There was even the hint of some bone structure peaking through. Nearly every piece of clothing he owned felt looser, except for his shoes. He looked leaner, healthier, like he’d been eating right. Which was wrong, the take out boxes in the trash can a few feet away saw to that. Sean had always thought he could do with losing some weight, and the mirror was proving him right. He just didn't have the mind and will to do it. But he liked the new him looking back from the mirror. Slimmer, eyes a little brighter and not a spot in sight on his pale skin. He even seemed to be holding himself taller. He turned from the mirror and swung his shoulder bag on, it was stuffed with books, but Sean could hardly feel the weight. With a smile on his face, and without his usual setup of headphones blasting music to repel any social interaction he headed out of his room for the campus library. Sean made sure his door was locked and walked straight into a raven haired boy. It was Chris from next-door, close behind him was a quiet blond nerdy boy. Sean didn't know his name, but had seen him enough times to know he was Chris’ roommate. Chris stepped back from Sean, quickly scanning who it was who’d bumped into him. Sean smiled politely at both boys, the blond with the crooked nose smiled back. Chris though stepped forward so he was inches away from Sean, staring him down. Sean surprised himself and almost laughed at the lithe boy’s attempt at intimidation. “What do you think you’re doing” Chris sneered down at Sean The taller boy stared down at him from behind expensive designer glasses. Sean had guessed that Chris was about 6ft tall when he first saw him moving in a few weeks back, but now Sean was maybe an inch shorter then him. This revelation caused a shot of excitement to drop right into Sean’s balls, he’d gotten taller. He’d never in his wildest dreams thought he’d reach 6ft, and he was now a hair’s length away. “I’m heading to the library” Sean explained knocking himself out of his thoughts, and surprising himself with how confident he sounded. Suddenly Chris’ slightly angular face softened “Oh, you mean the Haber Library” Sean nodded, knowing this was leading somewhere. Chris just smiled with perfectly straight pearly whites. The blond boy sighed in relief, Chris must get angry at the drop of a hat. “My last name is Haber you know” Chris stated grandly Sean just shook his head at the arrogant dark haired boy. Chris was attractive by anyone’s standards, but the speed at which he could switch from mild anger to lording something over someone else turned Sean off the high cheekboned student. Chris flicked his glossy black fringe “Yes, we’re an old family, been going to this college since its founding” Sean again just nodded, adding an ‘oh really’ for good measure. He could feel his cock hardening as he stared at Chris’ pretty face, his libibo had been sky high the last few days. He felt dirty getting hard over such an arrogant jerk. “We Habers were here long before the Wingtons” Chris continued rolling his eyes at the dorm room corridor “This shit hole is all they can throw together” Sean remembered the dorm room was named Wington Dormitory, he also remembered that some guy on the football team was called Wington. He then thought ‘It’s a shit hole you live in Chris’ but he stopped himself. Chris gave Sean a friendly slap on the shoulder, it didn't jiggly like it would of a week ago. “Have a good one” Chris smiled widely, seemingly having forgotten the earlier insult Sean watched Chris and the blond vanish into their dorm room. He chuckled to himself and head out, even whistling a little tune. As he left the main doors of the dormitory his nostrils flared and his cock throbbed. There was something rich and musky in the air. He followed it. The thick stench led to the trash cans, they were piled high with trash, having not been emptied this week. Perched on a slant between two black trash bags was a cactus. A large green cactus with a dark red flower atop it. Sean liberated the plant from the trash and inhaled deeply. He only got the small whiff putrid trash, the rest of his sinuses were filled with the musk rising off the cactus. Sean hid the potted cactus behind the trash cans, he’d return for it after he’d finished in the library. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Zack Buffone, like a lot of wait staff was a drama major, and like a lot of drama majors he never imagined he’d be a waiter. But he needed the money, college didn't pay for itself, especially when you had a father disappointed at your life choices. His dorm room in the Wington Building was like most other dorm rooms, two beds, a shared desk and with the simple decorations that each of the roommates had placed around to make it feel like home. Zack had placed a few posters on the wall above his bed, all of them for Broadway musicals. Rent, Wicked and Les Miserables to be specific. His roommate Lance, a golden blonde beach boy had two posters one an idolised version of his native San Diego and the other of some band that Zack was sure he only had up because it was the ‘in’ thing to do. Zack and Lance were different people, Lance naturally athletic, he’d even taken to lacrosse at the start of the year like he was born for it. While Zack was creative, and desperately trying to make a name for himself in the college drama department. They rarely talked, but they had talked it had always been civil, mostly about how to log onto the college computer system, or about their neighbour and his noisy arguments with his girlfriend. But right now their shared room looked like a tornado had torn through it. A neatly kept pile of Lance’s business books had been strewn across the desk. The desk chair had been knocked over and Lance’s mattress had been partly pulled off of the bed’s base. On Zack’s bed lay the tattered remains of his Paulie’s Pizzeria workshirt, like something had burst out of it. Sweat had drenched the sheets and the mattress appeared to be permanently imprinted by the sudden weight of a much too large occupant. The air was thick with the ripe smell of fresh cum and the sound of flesh slapping flesh bounced off the walls. A layer of musk was descending over the dorm room, the odour of sweat and muscle. Zack was standing at the small sink and mirror that all dorm rooms in the Wington building had. This wasn’t the Zack who’d waited tables the day before, the Zack who’d come home in a sweat and collapsed exhausted onto his bed, the Zack who was already feeling the effects of the cup of elixir he’d been accidentally dosed with. A cocky smirk lined his newly chiseled face, his right arm up and flexing. He wasn’t skinny anymore, his arm was thick with muscle. The rounded bicep bulging with the slightest movement. The rest of his body was just as big as his arm. His hand every now and then would grope at the meaty pecs he now owned, his entire body shining with a hearty olive tone. His black hair was glossy and now ran over his boulder like shoulders. Zack now towered above his dorm room, having grew over half a foot. He guessed he had to be at least 6’5 now, and with over a 100lbs of extra mass. Since nothing of his would fit him he’d steal something from Lance’s closet. He doubted anything of Lance’s would be anything but skintight. He was excited, barely thinking about what could've caused his growth. He was too busy stretching out his new muscles. Zack had tried out a number of poses, learning how to get his new muscles to listen to his commands. Lance though was having a completely different experience. Between Zack's newly thickened muscle thighs and with his head painfully banging against the sink was Lance. His hazel eyes bloodshot and teary, his jaw sore and Zack’s monstrous horsedick stretching out and down his throat. Zack’s rounded bare ass flexed with each thrust as he fucked his roommates struggling mouth. Lance had given up punching at Zack’s thighs and ass after the second load of cum had been shot down his gullet. Zack left hand was gripping tightly to Lance’s golden locks, “Fuck…….” Zack said for maybe the dozenth time His voice was deeper, richer and oozed confidence. An almost natural authority, it was how he’d got Lance onto his knees after their brief struggle. The smaller blonde boy didn't know how to pick a fight. He’d punched Zack in his steel hard abs, probably thinking Zack had broken into the room. He remembered asking what Lance wanted, the blondes eyes on Zack's bulge. The newly grown muscle man cupped his crotch, the blonde's eyes only widened. Then something just clicked into place in Zack’s head and he grabbed Lance by the throat and tossed him onto the floor. He cock slapped Lance’s beach tanned face a few times, then went to force open Lance's mouth, only to find it already opened wide. That was nearly two hours ago. Zack looked down his thick smooth pecs at Lance’s spit and cum covered face, he smirked. “You enjoying that” he asked He loosened his grip on Lance’s hair, his thrusting slowed. Lance’s head moved as much as it could, he didn’t need Zack to fuck his throat, he appeared more then happy to impale himself on Zack’s meat rod. A few drops of fresh sweat fell onto Lance’s hungry eyes, the cock tight in his throat, but Lance kept sucking. Zack just boomed out a laugh “I fucking knew it, weird that I’d wanted you to fuck me when we met” His speed returning to his thrusts “Never thought seeing you choke on my dick would of been the better option” With that he pulled out, Lance gasping for air. Zack’s fat cock swung for a second before rising up to slap at his six pack. Lacne’s hands were still holding onto Zack’s huge thighs. Zack pulled him to his feet. Happy to have Lance at chest level, he bounced his pecs in quick succession. Zack caught the growing bulge in Lance’s boxer shorts and smiled. He pushed Lance towards the beds, and gave his perky ass a slap that probably stung. “Pick a bed, I want to dump this load in your ass” he ordered.
  24. ABSQRST

    Liquid Manhood- Chapter Five

    Should of been up for Christmas, but the holidays was crazy busy. Hopefully shouldn't be as long a wait till Part Six. Thanks for reading. Read Part One HERE Read Part Two HERE Read Part Three HERE Read Part Four HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Five Sean normally enjoyed Christmas, but this year he nervously dreaded it. The second he stepped off the train at his hometown’s small country station his parents were amazed by his transformation. His father who was only 5’8 beamed with pride at his now 6’3 son. Sean’s mother joked about having to return some Christmas presents. The next day Sean saw her carrying a bag of already wrapped gifts out to her car, so she wasn't joking. Things got worse for Sean when his uncles, aunts, and cousins turned up. To start, Sean was as horny as ever and not being able to jerk off several times a day was really affecting him. He was washing his own sheets once every couple days just to hide the evidence and the smell. Those nighttime cum explosions were a terrible mess to clean up. He, at over 6ft and with a lean muscled body, didn't fit the Doherty family frame. Sean was a head and shoulders taller than most of them, and was probably the only one who could see his feet without sucking in his gut. The surprise and admiration at his body caused him to spend most of the winter break with a constant blush. A blush which at times could of had him losing consciousness with all the blood that rushed to his face. Like when a cousin walked into him in the night after he’d gotten up to use the bathroom. Sean was shirtless and his cousin almost screamed out in excitement at the ridges of his abs. Sean’s face went as crimson as his hair. Christmas Day revealed the new outfits his mother had chosen for him, and no doubt expected to see him wear. Two pairs of jeans and a sweater were actually something Sean wanted. A number of plain t-shirts, colourful button up shirts, and even some workout gear wasn't what he wanted or even expected. He’d spun a lie about working out to explain his new physique, so he should have expected workout gear. The other clothes weren't his normal style of dress. They were missing the puns, funny images or nerdy logos every other piece of clothing he owned had plastered over them. Though those pieces didn't fit him anymore. Sean told his parents he loved all his gifts anyway. He was very happy that they’d got him the games he asked for, but he didn't have the heart to tell them that in the days that followed he returned about half the clothes they’d brought for him. He kept the workout gear just in case. Sean even dropped to the floor and did some sit ups or push ups when his parents came knocking on his door. He wanted to avoid the awkward questions about his sudden change, questions which he himself didn't have answers for. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “My parents really like you,” Lance said to Zack as he stared into his eyes while they lay in bed together. Zack sat up slightly, pushing his meaty torso upwards with his thickly muscled arms. The two boys, now boyfriends, were spending Christmas together. This gave Zack a chance to see San Diego and Lance a chance to reveal he was gay to a very surprised family and friends. Though a number of them understood Lance’s attraction to Zack once the olive toned stud started wearing clothes more fitting of California. Right now Zack’s pecs and abs glistened with a light sheen of sweat above Lance, who bit his lip in appreciation. “Seriously… you’re gonna mention your parents while I’m balls deep in you?” Zack asked, laughing with a hint of annoyance in his voice. Lance whimpered slightly as Zack flexed his oversized cock, the thickening girth pushing against Lance’s tight hole. “Sorry,” Lance quickly replied, his eyes closed as pleasure rocketed through him. “Good, now shut up,” Zack ordered, returning to his fierce thrusting “This bed is already way too loud” Lance’s parents were downstairs, trying to ignore the sound of their darling boy being power fucked by his boyfriend, the sound of the bed’s wooden frame hitting the wall echoing through the house in time with each of Zack’s titanic thrusts. ——————————————————————————————————————————— A few days had passed since A.J. had arrived home and Barrett was hating every second of it. He could deal with the sympathy and concern from his family. He could deal with how his relationship with A.J. had moved from athletic manly rivalry and into one of just pity towards him. But Barrett couldn't deal with A.J. being his normal half naked over confident self all the time. A.J. was over 6’5 tall and stacked with well toned muscle. Unlike a lot of linebackers he was pure muscle, his six pack abs have been several stories high on a billboard in Times Square only last summer. With Barrett’s new found attraction to muscle he was struggling to control himself around A.J. He knew it was going to be hard the second A.J. arrived home, his big brother pulled off his coat to reveal a skin tight tank top. Barrett’s eyes followed his brothers pecs as they rose with each breath, the tank straining against them. Barrett then found his face pressed between them as A.J. pulled his sick little brother into a hug. There had been other incidents and they all could have been avoided if Barrett hadn't tried to be like his old self. He was forcing himself to be more confident, like the old Barrett, so he was finally leaving his room which just put him in line for running into A.J. The amount of times he’d be walking down a hallway, his eyes staring at the ground, and then he walk straight into A.J. ripped sweaty abs. A.J. never saw him coming, his big brother was always looking right over tiny Barrett’s head. Barrett was woken at 6am one morning by A.J. who just burst into his bedroom. Barrett sat bolt upright, his eyes level with the overstuffed Calvin Klein briefs that A.J. had gotten for free after a modelling shoot. “Hey bro, sorry about waking you” A.J. boomed rubbing sleep from his eyes, his bicep bulging just as much as his briefs “I’m heading out for a jog and I haven't packed anything with support” To show what he meant A.J. gave his bulge a little heft, it bounced and pushed the fat soft head of dick up against the fabric. “Ok” Barrett said simply, crossing his skinny legs under his covers Even though his erection was unnoticeable beneath the heavy sheets, he wasn't taking any chances. The smell of his room still set him off, but he thought what if now instead of imaging his old self when he inhaled his old musk he began picturing the underwear clad muscle giant in front of him. To make things worse as A.J. breathed his abs tightened and he bounced a pec impatiently. “Sooooo” he asked elongating the word This knocked Barrett’s attention from his big brothers brick sized stomach muscles and back up to his chiselled face. “So what” Barrett asked, trying not to focus his attention to his brothers jaw line A.J. sighed and dropped his meaty ass, which was barely covered by his briefs, onto the bed. The mattress sagged and Barrett rolled towards his brothers vast toned back. “You got a jock, or some compression shorts” A.J. questioned “You know, I could knock myself off running without support…. like you used to be able too” A.J. continued like he hadn't just rubbed salt on to Barrett’s still bloody wound. “I know you got rid of most of your old clothes, but are you sure you don’t have anything for me you could….. well it would be a hand me up, wouldn't it” A.J. chuckled at his own joke Barrett shook his head, but his eyes fell on his old jockstrap. It sat on his desk, next to his console controller. He’d been sniffing it only last night, thinking about the difference between his brothers and the housekeeper’s son Andre’s pecs. A.J. spotted where Barrett was looking. He pulled himself off Barrett’s bed and the floorboards creaked beneath his oversized feet. He quickly scooped up the jock and stretched it out in his hands. “It’s a bit small for me” A.J. boasted “But thanks bro” A.J. crammed his legendary equipment into the jockstrap and left the room for his jog. Barrett just signed, he slightly wanted to go watch his brother change, but he killed that thought quickly. He was going to return to sleep, but his phone buzzed as a new email arrived. It was from his college, their newsletter. Barrett wouldn't have ever read it before his change, but now he read every email he got, which wasn't many since his social life had collapsed. His eyes widened as he opened it. The email was fronted with a family crest, one he recognised from the few times he’d journeyed into the campus library. He’d only ever been there to pick up chicks, from his experience nerdy girls were always crazy in bed. It was the crest of the Haber family. Barrett was sure he’d heard that name a few times and not just from the library, he thought he heard his father mention it once or twice. The email’s title was interesting. “Lincoln University- From Salem to Campus” “A history of myth, legend and witchcraft” ——————————————————————————————————————————— Sean returned to campus sooner than he’d wanted too, he just couldn't deal with his family anymore. He’d always been close to them, but now that he was different they were clinging to him all the time. His father was adamant that Sean should try out for some sport, preferably football. Sean just couldn't handle all the attention. So he wasted money on a new train ticket, ignoring the one he had for next week and jumped on the train. His dingy dorm room was a welcome sight. He could have sworn the odd cactus’ flower even opened and oozed its strange sap like it was it happy to see him. Sean opened up his bag and eagerly set up his PlayStation, but as it turned on it started to update. The dorms horrible internet connection meant the update was going to take over three hours. Sean just sighed and started to unpack his clothes, he’d thrown out all the clothes he’d brought home and only had the new clothes he’d received for Christmas. He was currently wearing snug jeans and a chest hugging sweater. It was one of the only outfits he felt normal in, nothing like the naked feeling he had when he wore the skin tight workout gear he’d been gifted with. Sean smirked when he spotted the Captain America shirt. He’d forgotten he’d dumped it on his bed before he left. Though he thought it had been blue beforehand, now it was an odd shade of green. The blue and red shield on its front was stained green and the sky blue colouring had turned a lime colour. He sniffed the shirt gingerly, it reeked of his room. A nice familiar smell, a mix of the musky air and the slightly floral stench of the cactus sap. Maybe the colours had just run in the wash. Sean remembered a faded pair of green socks he’d tossed before Christmas, must be wear the green dye had come from. Above Sean a vein of elixir pulled itself back to the edge of the ceiling safely out of view of Sean. Sean draped the shirt over his desk chair and pulled off the warm sweater. He quickly checked himself out in his dorm rooms mirror. He couldn't help but smile at his abs, he even tried to bounce his chest, but there wasn't any movement, they just tightened. He lifted the shirt off his chair and gave it another sniff, his PS4 only on 4% download. His jaw was stained green as he pulled the shirt away from his hair. Red hairs had already started to sprout over his jaw. Sean quickly pulled the shirt over his head, it was a little tight. The shirt reached his waist, but clung to his chest and arms. He pulled at the collar, trying to loosen the high neckline. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his socks off, they were sweaty from the long train ride. Sean undid the buttons of his jeans while scratching at his jaw, he was surprised he needed to shave already. His jeans struggled to get past his thighs and then his calves, they’d been tight, but hadn't been so clingy. He pulled at his briefs, trying to get the fabric off his packed in balls. Sean sighed at the thought that he’d have to go out and buy a larger pair of jeans so soon after getting this pair. He really needed to get his head around how to wash clothes, he kept shrinking them or ruining the colour like his Captain America shirt. He checked his PS4, now it was up to 19%. Sean’s vision went fuzzy for a moment then returned with increases clarity, he blinked a few times in response to the weird change in vision. He couldn't see himself, but Sean’s eyes are brightened into deep emeralds. Sean rubbed his eyes, thinking he was just tired. He didn't noticed the light green staining fading away on his hand that he’d just scratched his chest with, nor did he notice that the hand was also slightly larger than the other. Sean almost fell over as his chest tightened, pain pulling his pec muscles and admirals inwards. He collapsed onto one knee, one hand gripping his bed and the other clutching his chest. The Captain America shirt was splitting done his back, his neck fighting against the skin tight collar. Sean pushed himself back to his feet, his legs throbbing as they magically thickened. The leg holes of his briefs strained against the muscles, and pushed against his ass as it rounded out into a boulder of muscle. Sean was knocked onto his back as the shirt burst apart. The thud of his growing mass echoed throughout his room and down the dormitory corridor. His pecs had exploded outwards in size, going from tight pecs into a shelf that you could balance a drink on. Small slithers of blue cotton fluttered in the air, the tattered remains of Captain America’s shield rested in the grooves of Sean’s brick like abs and the crevice between his slab like pecs. The green stain was gone, having been drained to fuel Sean’s growth. Sean’s mitt like hands grabbed at the carpet, his teeth gritted as pain rocketed through him. His bones creaking as they stretched longer and thicker. The remains of the shirt slipped beneath his widening back as his bowling ball shoulders popped the seams of his sleeves and finally destroyed the too small shirt. His biceps bloated by several inches, flexing even through Sean’s arms were held straight out. Hair grew down between his abs and joined up with the rich pubes that spread out from his now too small briefs. His bulge, which was already a hearty endowment looked obscene now. His growth was not focusing on that area, the imprint of his fattening balls rolled around in the overstuffed pouch. His briefs were tented upwards by an ever growing trunk of sexmeat. The pain that rocked Sean’s body died and he signed with relief, his voice husky and deep, as his briefs burst. His horse like equipment swung around splattering the surrounding area with thick pre cum. Sean took a few deep breaths, his pecs rising and falling, the light of his PS4 glittering off his sweaty chest hair. Then with fury in his eyes Sean started to jack his fat bull cock with his dinner plate hands, his grunts and groans roaring out into the dormitory and through his dorm rooms thin walls. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Chris returned to college with a reinforced wariness of the elixir. It wasn’t some simple muscle potion like he’d feared, the changes it caused appeared to not measure up to what was promised by his ancient spell book. But he wouldn't give up on it, he just needed a few more tests so he could work out the rules. Magic always had rules, ways in which it operated which could ruin everything if you didn't understand its nature. He already had a plan ready before his family’s private jet took off from the tarmac in Europe to take him back to America. Chris dosed three water bottles with the elixir, bottles which Chris had stolen from the college gym during workouts there last semester. They had the college logo on and would blend in with the untainted bottles the gym offered to refresh its users. He took the bottles to the college gym and mixed the dossed bottles in with gym’s normal water bottles. The gym was a lot quieter now thanks to the draining of the football team, so Chris was able to record who went in and out over the course of one day. This was grunt work that Melvin should of done, but the blond nerd wasn't even back yet, so Chris had to wait around an entire day. Chris recorded 17 different people enter and leave the college gym, half of them left with water bottles in their hands. Chris would find them over the next couple days. He had his fingers crossed that Yuri didn't get dossed, he didn't want that cocky Russian to end up huge. Though there were a few people he didn't really recognise, he had to do some snooping of the gym’s membership files to find out who they were, which while illegal was a perk of being the son of college’s largest donor. One scrawny black kid turned out be a 20 year old who was the football teams equipment manager, Thaddeus Stern, which was a name that didn't fit the guy at all. Chris thought the guy had gotten drained when he cleaned up the teams jockstraps when they’d first been dosed with the powder. A quick check of Thaddeus’ Facebook found that he had always been short and scrawny. Plus the jockstraps could only drain the first person to touch them or their relatives. When Chris returned to his dorm room after a long day spying his nose wrinkled at the musky smell wafting out from the room next door. A TV inside sounded out loudly, Chris vaguely remembered the guy who lived there, he was tallish, a slim build, red hair, he was kinda cute. He must of gotten back and forgot to clean up the mess he’d left last semester. Chris should have just knocked and mentioned it to the redhead, but the chance to use his family’s power was too good an opportunity to waste. So he wrote an email to the Dean’s office about the smell, he knew the Dean would get it sorted out within days. The red headed idiot had most likely left some filthy clothes out or some half eaten food had been left out to rot. Though Chris had a nagging feeling that he recognised the musky, overpowering smell. But before Chris could consider it more his phone buzzed and Melvin’s name appeared on the screen. He nearly jumped at it, eager to explain his ideas to his absent roommate. “Melvin” he called down the phone, he was already passing the room. “Where the hell have you been? I thought you were coming back days ago… but never mind that.” He took a breath and started to explain. “I dosed a few of water bottles at the athletic department’s gym, I have a list of who uses the gym, they would have access to the water bottles,” he breathed and then started again “So I can see how it affects them, because I have a theory, I think the elixir doesn’t do what we think it does, I tested it out over Christmas and the result was horrific…” He paused, Melvin was silent on the other end. He must be angry that Chris had broken the promise not to use the elixir. “I know, I broke my promise, sue me,” he continued. “But I think these water bottles will prove my idea. I think the elixir has rules on how it changes people. I just need some more test subjects to prove it.” Chris stopped and waited, a few seconds passed before Melvin replied. “Chris… we need to talk,” a voice that didn't sound like Melvin replied, it was deep, rumbling and very masculine.
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