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  1. I'm pretty excited to drop pages 1 & 2 of my second comic, "Mikey's Perfection". Lance isn't really making progress, hopefully that'll change soon... If you like my stuff, please consider giving me a follow on Twitter https://twitter.com/GDSMuscleFreaks I've kinda been bad with posting activity. Sorry about that! Just had a few things happening - I'll be posting more regularly now. Cheers, GD
  2. wasted401

    My Hyper Symbiotic Suit

    Quick note: This is my first story in months and the first one that I uploaded publicly, so please tell me what you think. This story is heavily inspired by the "futuristic symbiote armor" by @EdBrock7 and ideas from @WoodenStick in that thread. I intended to write something a bit longer but my writing skills (lack thereof) prevented that, so rather than writing a long and bad story, I tried to write a short (and bad) one that starts in the middle of the action. If you want to expand upon the story or write how it all began, you have my complete approval to do so. CW: Hyper muscles, rape, a bit of cumflation, size theft, bad English and bad writing == == My thick arm flicks lightly, the soldier flies across the street and hits a parked car, leaving a nice dent on the door. I can’t help but laugh at my power, it feels and is invincible wrapped tightly by literal tons of symbiotic goo, it feels soft and warm “wearing” them yet impossibly strong on the outside. I stomp my way to the poor soldier, shaking the earth below us and leaving cracks on the road. Looking down at him with our pecs that are sticking out way ahead of me, I told him as softly as I could with my new voice that I won’t kill him. Pointing at him with my left arm, the alien material shifts the clawed hand into a rifle, smiling at what’s about to come, I fired at him. Rather than bullets like conventional weapons, it fires a mixture of my cum and the symbiotic material onto him, “gluing” him to the side of the car. Every shot “recoil” goes through my body in the form of the symbiote tugging my cock and fucking my ass, lewd, and just the way I want it. The goo quickly melted away the armour and clothes on him, leaving his naked, fuckable body on full display. The sight brings my symbiotic cock from a leaky semi to full mast, and being as aroused as I am, my symbiote starts slowly thrusting into my butt and tease my cock and nipples. Feeling horny, it is time to drain! I run my hand along the shaft to pick up my darken pre and rub it all over the soldier, this will grow him temperamentally so that he is strong and big enough to fit my 3-foot long fuck rod. It is cute that he is too busy looking at my alien body to notice he have grown so big that he can make bodybuilders jealous. Now that he is big enough, I lift the car up with ease and bring him to face level with me. The only thing that reminds people my human origin is my normal sized head, nestled in between my superhuman pecs and oversized traps, my mask slips away on demand and reveal to him my cute face that’s surrounded by building-destroying muscles. I drink in his look of disbelief and rest the car on its side so my cock is pointing right at his butt. Taking care to not harm my prey too much, I reach for another handful of pre and coat his butt and cock with it, lubing him up nicely, I considered giving him a pecjob but quickly discard that thought when my symbiote reminded me that the symbiotic pre I coated can milk him more efficiently. In an attempt to not destroy the car beneath him any further and make draining more difficult, I order the symbiote to shoot out tendrils from our wide muscular back to support our weight. I entered as softly as a horny 14-foot tall and easily as wide monster could. Of course, the symbiote wrapping around my body also moved in sync, transferring every move I do inside him to me and sometimes adding even more to it. My pecs jiggle with my every thrust and even with the enhancement I have done to my prey, his hole feels tight around me, grunting in approval I quickly find an enjoyable rhythm for all three of us. Plowing back and forth, I feel his hole tighten around me and notice him filling up our milker and soon, we pushed over the edge too, pressure building up through the length of our cock and we blow a thick load inside him, bloating his belly up slightly and a relatively pathetic one inside the suit. I give him a few finishing thrusts and let our soft cock slide out of his symbiotic cum filled hole, with the thick liquid slowly trickling out. Immediately the his body starts to shrink as the goo inside him starts doing their job, their incredibly efficient mass to symbiote transfer rate means almost every ounce of his muscles and cum (not including the temporary boost from our fluids) will turn into mass on my immense body. As his body shrinks the symbiote pool grows, which makes his cum and symbiote filled belly even more pronounced. Feeling merciful, I decide not to drain him as much as the group of bodybuilders who picked on me this morning, leaving him with just enough muscles to live a normal life and tell the tale. The goo inside him then leave his body, and join me once again, the symbiote lets me know that we have gained another 200 pounds to our mass, making our arms and legs even thicker and rewarded me with a few thrust in my butt for it. I ordered the symbiote to mask myself up again and race off to find the rest of the soldier’s squad.
  3. Hi, everyone! So I'm starting this experimental series to see if a more traditional narrative would work here, and I would really appreciate all feedback and critique to help me improve. This is mostly going to involve more plot and character than growing, although there will still be a lot of growing done. It just won't be the main focus (for now). Writing is something I don't normally get to do on a regular basis, but it's something I want to make a living out of, so all advice is incredibly welcome. I am more than willing to alter the way the narrative develops and is written depending on how people prefer their pacing and writing. Thanks and enjoy! Hard at Work [Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5a -5b - 6 - 7 - 8a - 8b - 8c - 9 - 10 - 11a - 11b - 12a - 12b - 13a - 13b - 13c(?)] PART 1 Working at my job wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world, but it paid the bills. On an average day, I would sit at my desk, wondering how a bachelor’s degree in Chemistry got me a job in human resources. It’s not like I had particularly good chemistry with other people either. During my time at the company so far, I’ve only been able to get close to two people. One of them was a co-worker of mine named Marcus. He often pulled pranks on me and made childish jokes at my expense whenever we took a break for coffee. Normally, him being a 23-year-old man, anyone would expect some sort of maturity or sense of responsibility. Marcus was nothing of the sort. He played around far too much and just did whatever the hell he wanted to. Every attempt our boss had at scolding him fell on deaf ears. With any other employee, our boss’ words would stop us dead in our tracks. Boss had that charismatic, authoritative aura about him. Unlike Marcus, our boss, Mr. Wesley Smith, or just Wes, took everything seriously. He had a reputation to uphold. Sure, he had his fair share of dad jokes every now and then, but people in the workplace were already so used to Marcus’ absurd antics that nobody ever really noticed. The three of us were often referred to around the office as the “threesome of power.” In one way or another, we all held some sort of power around the office. Wes had his obvious influence and status. Marcus had his absurdity and over-all charisma. Compared to them, I didn’t have as much. All anyone ever told me was that I was the glue that held together our little threesome. In my opinion, it’s just an excuse to call us a threesome since we’re always together. I wasn’t a big fan of the name, honestly. Especially since I was the only gay one. The main reason people chose to describe us as a “threesome” specifically is that Marcus and Wes were probably the most attractive and sought-after guys at the workplace. Marcus was 5’11” and pretty damn attractive. He had wavy, blonde hair that looked like it was streaked with chocolate, and his eyebrows were incredibly thick and a deep chestnut. Of the three of us, he also had the best body. He had been a model in his university years, so he developed a toned, muscled body with a deep V-shaped torso and disproportionate pecs and shoulders. On the other hand, Wes wasn’t bad looking, but all his time spent in bars showed. He was a good-looking man for his age, 31, having South-East Asian genes, and he had a strong square face that accentuated his stocky figure, being only 5’6”. He did go to the gym after work, but he developed a gut after all the vodka. People often say his most attractive feature is his cat eyes. His eyebrows also tilted inwards, so he always had this fierceness about him. It didn’t seem like he was meant to be built in any way besides a small tank either. While Marcus and Wes were the stars of our threesome, I was labeled the “DUFF.” I was only 24, but the new terms the kids kept coming up with always got lost on me. I was the least attractive among us, I must admit. 5’7” isn’t exactly a height anyone would be flaunting off. It’s not that I looked like Quasimodo though. I was just… average—nothing spectacular about me. On one particularly rainy day, Marcus approached me at my desk, wearing his favorite sky blue button-down. He leaned over the divider with a coffee in his hand and sipped it so loudly it echoed. “What are we gonna do about the rain? Do you wanna just move bar night to Wes’ condo again?” he asked. “Yeah, but have you asked him? We might still be banned since you wrecked his condo the last time.” Marcus flubbed his lips, nearly spilling his coffee on my desk. “Don’t worry about it! Wes’ll understand. Besides, this time we got someone to clean our shit.” “I’m not cleaning your mess this time, Marcus.” “Not you, stupid. I meant the new intern. Wes said he was coming in today.” I looked at him, puzzled. “What new intern? No one told me about any new interns.” “That’s because you never join the meetings.” “What? The last meeting we had was two months ago, and literally all we talked about was how you put red food coloring in the water tanks to make it look like we were drinking blood.” Marcus laughed. “Well, now we just have meetings at the bar. I managed to convince him to move our meetings to the conference room with the dancers.” He chuckled. I sighed. “Fine, whatever. What’s his name? The intern, I mean.” “Ah, wait.” Eric brought out his phone. “I’ll ask Wes.” We waited for the phone to pick up. As soon as we heard Wes’ voice, Marcus didn’t hesitate to yell. “Yo, Wes!” I could hear an audible sigh come from the phone. “What’s up, Marcus? I’m kinda busy right now.” “I just told Dory about the new intern, but I forgot his name. What was it again?” “Froy Adamson. 20 years old from Harbridge University. He just texted and said he was coming up. Could you two let him in and show him around? Thanks.” “Sure thing, sir.” Marcus bounced his head to the side and looked at me as if he were planning something. He always did his squinted eyes, raised eyebrows, and pouted mouth. It was a staple of his. He wasn’t fooling anyone doing a face like that. I wonder if he ever noticed. He put the phone back in his pocket. “Well, Dory, looks like you’ve got some more work to do.” I knew it. “Seriously? Didn’t he tell us to handle him? To-ge-ther?” Marcus shrugged. “Well, I’ve got some work to do, and I’m reeaally tired.” He yawned. “You can handle the kid by yourself, right?” I said yes, and he was off, walking back to his desk. I don’t know why I let him do this to me. He’s lucky he was hot. Before I could prepare myself for the new intern, there was a knock coming from the glass door. I got up and headed over. Only people without access cards couldn’t get in and had to knock, which meant it had to be the intern. If I heard correctly, his name was supposed to be Froy, and a student at Harbridge… damn, someone was loaded. I got to the glass door and saw him standing outside. He was wearing a black button-down with his sleeves rolled up and skintight black jeans. They must have been pretty big too since he looked like he had to be at least 6’1”. His jet black hair was short and cropped with little spikes sticking up. He had a cute face too. He had the most precious baby button nose and pronounced dimples, making him look younger than he actually was. I wouldn’t be surprised if girls crushed on him everywhere. He had a decently lean body, but he definitely had bodybuilder potential by the way his broad shoulders stuck outwards, much like Marcus’. However, it didn’t seem like he was the braggart type. If anything, he was a bookworm. He looked like he lived and breathed in a library. All he was missing was a pair of glasses, but instead, he had the most perfect eyelashes. The poor thing seemed soaked by the rain. I opened the door for him and let him come inside, causing him to shiver in his shirt from the cold, freezer-like office temperature. He smiled at me and giggled nervously. “Sorry, sir,” he said with a nervous smile. “I forgot to bring an umbrella. I didn’t think it would rain today.” My heart hadn’t fluttered in so long by a guy’s voice. The last time I felt this elevated was when I was still in college and chatting up the star football athlete before he got caught doping and got expelled. I missed having crushes like this. Thankfully, Froy seemed to be legal. A co-worker of mine already got fired once for having “intimate relations” with an underage intern. I wasn’t going to be next. “It’s fine. Are you Froy?” I asked. He nodded. “Yes, sir. I was supposed to start last week, but my mother had an emergency at the hospital, so I couldn’t leave.” “It’s fine, don’t worry. Family first,” I said. “Did you bring an extra shirt? You might get sick if you wear that wet shirt here all day.” “No, sir. I don’t have anything to change into. Sorry.” I grabbed his forearm. “It’s fine. Here, I’ll let you borrow one of my backup shirts.” “Sir, are you sure?” “Yeah, it’s fine.” I brought him to my desk where I grabbed him a seat. My co-workers who passed by would smile at him, enticed by his cute face and meek demeanor. He’d greet them back with a small wave and shy smile. Some people even came up and asked me if he was my new boyfriend. How many times did I have to tell everyone that I’ve never had a boyfriend before? They were just making the boy uncomfortable. I brought out a plain white shirt from my emergency kit and handed it over to him. He looked it over and thinking about it now, it was probably too small for him. Such was a con of being six inches shorter than someone. He held it up to the light, trying to estimate its size. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” I said. “Could I try it on, sir? Just to be sure?” “Sure, go ahead. Just don’t tear it.” I leaned back into my seat as I watched him begin unbuttoning his button-down. At the back of my mind, I knew this was leaning towards sexual harassment—and on the first day of his internship to boot—but I couldn’t help myself. The kid wasn’t reacting negatively either, so I guessed he was okay with it. A lawsuit was the last thing I needed. He started from the top-down, exposing his lean muscle underneath. He had a decently-sized chest for his leanness, and I never noticed how perky his nipples were underneath the black fabric either. There was no body hair on him too, just like Wes. “Nice abs,” I said. He blushed. “Ah, thank you, sir.” “You go to the gym or something? You play sports?” “No, sir. I used to be part of the gymnastics team, but I quit so I could focus on my studies.” Froy raised up his arms and tried squeezing into my shirt. He stuck his head through the tight hole and did his best to stretch out my shirt to fit in as much as possible. He looked ridiculous. It was like a man trying to wear a child’s dress. “You’ve still got a nice frame. If you went to the gym, I bet you could build it up easily,” I said. He looked ridiculous in my shirt. The sleeves didn’t even reach past his shoulders, so the fabric dug into his armpits. The shirt only reached the first set of abs, exposing his core and defined pelvis. It looked like a crop top. How he even got into something so tight is still a mystery to me. “Sir, I’m not sure I can wear this.” “Obviously.” I punched his abs. “Come on, let’s go ask someone else. I’m too short to be lending you my clothes.” “You’re not too short, sir.” “Yeah, you’re just too tall.” I told him to take off the shirt. He looked like he was in too much pain to be wearing something so ridiculous before we found a better replacement. As he raised it over his head and pulled his arms through the sleeves, he accidentally tore it down the side from the left sleeve down to the hem. He froze in panic. “Sir, I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to break your shirt. It was an accident, sir, I swear.” “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s just a shirt.” His lean torso was now exposed to the cold of the office again, but at least he wasn’t squeezed so tightly in my shirt. I didn’t want to kill him before Marcus did. I couldn’t afford that kind of blood on my hands at my age. No way my salary was going to cover it. I led the tall kid over to Marcus’ desk at the other end of the office. Marcus looked visibly disturbed, watching in silence as I approached with a tall, shirtless kid following closely behind me. I didn’t know what he was going to say or do. His eyes just kept darting back and forth between us, seemingly asking me, “What the fuck is going on?” “Hey, Marcus, this is the intern, and he—” “Why is he shirtless?” Marcus interrupted. I looked back at Froy, looking lost as always. “He got wet in the rain, and I told him I’d get him a new shirt. I tried giving him mine, but, uh…” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “But what? Dory, I need to tell you as a friend that you are very small. Did you try lending him your shirt? Was it too small? Did you come all the way here, to my cubicle, while I’m working, to ask for a shirt from me?” “Yes.” “Alright, here you go.” Marcus dug into his drawer and tossed Froy a clean, black shirt. Froy looked confused but put on the shirt. It fit him perfectly. Thankfully, Marcus’ tailored shirts to fit his broad shoulders and chest fit Froy just right. It was a bit short at the hem though. His pelvis would peek whenever he moved, but he was well-covered. The sleeves also accentuated what muscle he had on his arms, as expected from Marcus. “I have to say though, he’s got a nice body,” Marcus said. “The ‘overtime work’ he’ll be doing later is gonna be a nice work-out.” “Marcus, he’s not a maid.” “And I’m not Frida Kahlo.” “You aren’t.” “Shut up,” Marcus said. “Hey, kid, you’ll be coming with us after work, right?” Froy’s eyes grew wide. “Uh…” “Marcus, it’s only his first day. He doesn’t even know our names yet!” “It’ll be fiiiine. My name’s Marcus Fringe, and there’s your Sir Dorian Yale. You can just call us Marcus and Dory. Our boss is Sir Wesley Smith: short, stocky Asian dude. You can call him Wes. If you ever wanna come work for us, you could be a part of our little circle of friends here. We got cookies.” “Oh, I like cookies,” Froy whispered. “Stop fucking with my intern, Marcus.” “You’re not my mom.” Wes’ office was right in front of Marcus’ cubicle. Any time Marcus made too much noise or whenever Wes would leave for the washroom and caught Marcus doing something stupid, Wes would be the first to scold him. He often threatened to lower his pay, but Marcus didn’t care. They were too close to actually do anything like that. As we were talking, the door to Wes’ office opened. He walked out, wearing a skintight banana yellow collared shirt that showed off his muscles and small gut. Every shirt in his wardrobe seemed to be skintight. I remember him telling us once that he was raised to only wear the tightest clothing because it makes you look bigger. He was only 5’6”, so I could understand why. “Why are you making so much noise, Marcus?” he asked, standing in the doorway. “Oh.” I waved at him. “Hi, sir. This is Froy, the intern. I was just asking Marcus for an extra shirt since he got wet in the rain.” “Well, take care of him then. Show him around the floor or something, I dunno,” Wes said. “Oh, and Dory…” “Yes, sir?” “Take him out with ya later, aight? We’re gonna have a little fun.” Oh god. “Yes, sir.” Wes was returning to his office when Froy spoke up. “Oh, sir!” he said. “How do I get through the door? I don’t have an access card.” “Hm? You don’t need an access card. You just grab the handle, twist it, then pull. That’s how you open a door.” “Wes, never speak again,” Marcus said. “What about this?” Wes whispered. “Or this ♪?” he sang. “I’m done,” I said. “And I’m just getting started!” He fired double finger guns at me with the silliest grin, laughing at himself immediately afterwards. We all separated and went back to our work for the day. I finished up the rest of my work as fast as I could so that I’d have more time to tour Froy around the building. It was just a hunch, but I thought he’d appreciate the convenience store. The store has an unlimited sundae cone deal where you could get as much ice cream as you wanted as long as it’s in one continuous swirl and it doesn’t fall over. When we got there, I saw his eyes light up like a child at the carnival. He wasted no time and immediately ordered a sundae cone. I didn’t even have to tell him. It seemed like he was used to doing this sort of thing already. By the time the ice cream was five inches tall, I was getting worried. It looked like it would fall at any moment. “Froy, are you sure you wanna keep going?” “Yes, sir! I’ve done this before. My mom calls me a master at this.” By the time it reached 8 inches tall, he stopped the machine. He stood still at first, watching it intently. It looked like he was trying to connect his soul to the sundae, becoming one with its spirit or something. When he finally got it to stabilize, he smiled. “See, sir?” he said. Then he raised it up and dunked it in his mouth, all the way down to the cone. My eyes grew wide. Froy just took in 8 inches of freezing cold sundae in his mouth like it was nothing. “What the fuck? Did you just eat the entire thing in one bite?” He nodded, still swallowing the ice cream. When he finished, he accidentally exhaled into my face, filling my nose with his cold, breath-infused chocolate smell. He apologized and offered to wipe it off my nose. I had to tell him to stop since he still had the cone to finish. “How the fuck did you do that?” “My brothers taught me when I was younger how to exercise my gag reflex so I could take in more things. I could fit a whole foot-long in my mouth too!” he said. “It just got kinda messy… so we had to stop.” His face sunk. The cute smile he wore faded away after it seemed like he remembered something. “What happened?” “They, uh, taught me to give them blowjobs when I was 12. I thought it was normal for a few years, then they got arrested for selling drugs when I was 15. My mother told me they were horrible to me and told me what they were doing to me was wrong. So now I’m trying to find a job to pay for my mother’s hospital bills since I’m her only family left. She already used up all her savings on my tuition.” I felt horrible for him and found myself hugging him. He was stiff and caught in surprise at first, but he softened up and wrapped his arms around me too. I didn’t know he lived like this. I couldn’t take advantage of someone like him. It wouldn’t be right. “I’m so sorry.” He gave his ice cream a quick lick. “Don’t worry, sir, it’s fine. I’m over it now. I still miss them though.” “Who? Your brothers? They molested you as a kid. You shouldn’t be missing them. They deserve to rot in prison.” “We used to play games every day outside our house. They even bought me a goldfish once for my 14th birthday since it was all they could afford with their own money. I named him Pudge.” We headed back to my desk upstairs after finishing his ice cream and filing for his access card. The issue with his brothers was something we didn’t want to bring up too much in case he got triggered. More than half the office had already gone home for the day. Marcus, Wes, and I planned to leave for Wes’ condo at 8pm with Froy together. After I finished up, I asked Froy if he was okay with it. It was only his first day as an intern. I wouldn’t be surprised if he declined. Who knows what we might have been planning to do to him outside office hours? “It’s okay with me, sir.” “Are you sure? I haven’t even told you what we were doing.” “Oh, uh,” he said before chuckling nervously. “We’re going to your sir Wes’s condo to drink. Wes and Marcus just want you to be their sober caretaker, so you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Froy waved his hands. “Oh, no, sir, it’s okay with me. I’m used to being the sober one with my friends.” “Oh, okay. And don’t worry about something bad happening to you. None of us have ever done anything crazy before. Besides, Marcus is straight, and Wes is bi, but he has a family. I’m the only gay one here.” His eyebrows shot up. “You’re gay, sir?” “Yeah, why?” He looked away. “Nothing, sir.” That led me to wonder. Was he also gay? I guessed I could always figure that out some other time. After we packed up, we headed down to the basement carpark where Marcus and Wes were waiting for us at Wes’ truck. There were paper cups everywhere. It seemed like they’d been waiting there for a few years by the way they were lounging around and drinking coffee endlessly. When we got there, Marcus walked up to me and grabbed me by the shoulders. “What the fuck took you so long?” he asked. His pointed gaze shot into my skull. “You told me not to fuck with your intern, but is it really me you should be worrying about?” “We were just finishing up some shit. It took longer than expected. Sorry ‘bout it.” “Just get in the fucking truck already!” Wes yelled. “The vodka isn’t gonna drink itself!” I sat in the passenger seat, with Marcus and Froy in the back. It was the system we developed together when we first started hanging out at bars a few months ago. Marcus hated seatbelts and feeling claustrophobic, and I preferred the safety of the seatbelt. The three of us normally went out to the bar down the street on foot, but tonight, we decided to head to Wes’ condo instead to avoid the rain. The only thing different was that we had Froy with us. “Hey, kid, what was your name again?” Marcus asked. “Uh, sir, Froy Adamson, sir.” “Froy?” Marcus began to chuckle. He was visibly struggling to hold in his laughter. “Like fro-yo?” Froy was silent. “...Yes, sir. Frozen yogurt.” Marcus released his contained laughter, nearly keeling over his seat. Froy became worried and began to panic. Wes and I had to reassure him that making fun of people’s names was just something Marcus did on a daily basis to everyone around the office. Marcus was only a year younger than me, but he had the heart of a child that he never grew out of. We loved that about him. Marcus placed a hand on Froy’s shoulder. “I like this kid,” he said. Froy blushed. “I’m sure you do,” Wes said. “Everyone loves yogurt.” “Don’t predate on my intern, Marcus!” “I don’t wanna hear that from you, Dory!” Marcus said. “Hey, kid. I’ve been planning on going back to the gym again. If you ever wanna come with, just tell me, okay? You look like you’d be a great workout partner.” “Hey, what about me? Why do you ask the intern before your boss who you KNOW goes to the gym?” Wes asked. “How tall are you again, Wes?” Marcus asked. “Right now, about as high as your chances at a promotion, Marcus.” Marcus threw his arms around Wes’ seat. “Hey, come on! It was just a joke! It’s just too hard to be gym buddies with someone so short. Plus you’ve got that tiny gut.” “I can’t help it! Vodka might as well be my blood of Christ.” “So you’re a cannibal?” “What do you think happened to my first boyfriend?” The conversation continued for the next half hour on the road. Froy and I remained silent for the most part while Marcus and Wes bantered, with us being brought in every so often as jokes. Marcus couldn’t let go of “fro-yo.” The rain blocked the streets and kept us in traffic longer than we would have wanted. Wes began getting calls from his wife, asking about where he was since his kids were getting impatient after being locked up for so long. When we got to the forest separating Wes’ condo complex from the city district, Marcus brought out these small white pills he hid inside a tic-tac box. The resemblance was uncanny. Froy and I watched him, unaware of what the pills would do. No one was around to help if Marcus did something stupid. “Hey, Wes. You want a tic-tac?” Marcus asked. Froy and I watched in silence, fully aware of what Marcus was trying to do. “If you’re trying to bribe me for a pay raise again, it’s gonna take more than a tic-tac this time.” “No, seriously, come on. It’s just a candy. Completely free. No strings attached.” Wes held out a hand, and Marcus placed one on his palm. “This better not be another one of your fucking pranks, Marcus. The last one is still giving my kids diarrhea.” Wes threw the small white pill in his mouth without any hesitation. Suddenly, his stomach grumbled loudly. “God damn it, Marcus.” Marcus laughed and slammed his hand repeatedly against the back of Wes’ seat. Froy shifted closer to the door in fear. “What did you give him, Marcus?” I asked. “Dying in a car crash with you was not on my list of things to-do today.” “Mine too,” Froy mumbled. “Relax! It’s harmless. I already tried it on my dog, and nothing happened to her.” “I’m not a dog, Marcus! I’m your boss!” “And I’m not a scientist!” “That doesn’t make things any better, Marcus—Oh, my god... what the fuck is going on...” Wes looked uncomfortable, shifting around like there was a cactus on his seat. I looked down and saw that he was growing a tent in his pants. At first, I thought it was just viagra, but then a wet spot began to form. Wes’ face was red as a tomato and was completely speechless. I could smell the familiar smell that filled my room after school as a kid. Wes came. He came right in front of all of us. He didn’t even have to touch himself or do anything for it either. I looked back at Marcus and Froy, and Marcus’ face was frozen in a face of pure glee. He had the expression of a child witnessing Santa for the first time and couldn’t be happier. Froy on the other hand was completely mortified. The poor thing didn’t know how to react. Wes was barely able to keep his focus on the road because of the way he was feeling. He just came in his pants. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that pill did to him. Wes stopped the truck at a nearby tree and turned off the truck, running out and checking the damages at a tree out of sight. The three of us followed suit. Marcus didn’t even look the least bit guilty about what he just did. Froy stood by me, waiting and watching for what happened next. “What the fuck did you give me?” Wes asked. Marcus waved his hands in the air. “Nothing! I swear it was just a bunch of random shit I found in my kitchen. I didn’t think it would do anything.” “Well, it did! Now my favorite pants are ruined.” Wes stepped back into the moonlight where we saw a massive wet spot all over his crotch. If we didn’t know it was cum, we might’ve mistaken it for piss just by its sheer quantity. I didn’t think it was possible to cum so much. Judging by the defined outline running down his left thigh as well, it seemed he was hiding more than just one secret. The short man had to compensate somewhere. “God damn it, Marcus.” “Come on, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t mean it. I was gonna try it on myself, but I wanted to see if it—” “If it killed me?” “Well, no, but—” “I can’t believe I already wet myself… I haven’t even had a fucking bottle yet. You owe me for this.” Marcus shot me a look of relieved anguish, knowing he wasn’t going lose his job or his friendship. He walked up to Wes and helped him clean up by the tree. While Wes and Marcus were off cleaning up, Froy and I wandered a bit off to the forest to take in the beautiful nighttime scenery overlooking the city. The city lights shined brightly over the trees. They gave off an iridescent spotlight-lit night sky that shadowed the tree leaves and branches, blocking out the stars but lighting up the darkness. “This is a great view,” I said. “Yes, sir,” Froy replied. As we were enjoying our quiet time alone together, Froy noticed what looked like a shooting star in the empty sky. Wes and Marcus came over and joined us in staring at the falling light. A thought occurred to me, however, that this was not how falling stars normally worked. It looked as though it were literally falling out of the sky. I’m pretty sure falling stars aren’t supposed to look like they’re coming straight at us. “Hey, that’s no fucking shooting star, you idiots! That’s a meteor!” Wes said. “Hide behind something!” We could barely react when we saw that it was already a building’s height away from us. Froy and I hid behind a nearby tree. Marcus sprinted across to the truck with Wes. The burning rock rang a piercing loud screech in our ears before crash landing into the clearing between us and the truck. Flaming debris flew everywhere, covering the area in a black soot. Smoke filled the air for a good few minutes until we were able to breathe and see things again. All four of us emerged from our hiding spots and eyed the strange rock. Froy, Wes, and I approached it hesitantly, watching it from a distance in case it had any surprises waiting to pop out and do some serious harm. It could have had some new viruses or small flesh-eating aliens hiding inside. I highly doubted our job’s insurance program covered space AIDS. Meanwhile, while three of us were being careful, Marcus decided to make a headstart and gingerly walked up to it. He stuck out his hands and felt the intense heat emanating from the meteor. “What are you doing, Marcus?! Get back here where it’s safe,” Wes said. Marcus looked back and smiled. “Relaaax, it’s not gonna do anythingI” When the rest of us got to surround the meteor, it seemed to have cooled off. All four of us examined it closely, checking for any dangerous movements or glowing substances sticking out. For the next few minutes, it just seemed like it was a regular, boring old rock—from space. It didn’t grow a face and sing show tunes like I expected. I’d be lying if I said wasn’t disappointed. “It just seems like a rock,” Froy said. “Obviously,” Marcus said. “But what’s inside?” “If it's anything like your head, not much,” Wes said. “Then there’s nothing to worry about, right?” Marcus stepped into the crater and slammed his hands onto the meteor. He began pressing down on it with his body weight, trying to pressure it to crack open and reveal whatever monstrosity was inside of it. Froy and I backed away while Wes stepped forward and tried prying Marcus off of it. “Marcus, what are you doing?! Stop!” “I just wanna see what’s inside! It might have space diamonds, Wes!” Marcus let out a yell as he used all his strength and cracked open the meteor. From the crack, a neon green liquid splurged out, spilling onto Marcus’ shirt. He panicked, wondering what the hell the scentless, luminescent goo was, when suddenly the crack opened up further. It erupted, blasting a mortified Marcus with the strange gunk. He was covered head to toe, front to back, unable to even open his mouth or eyes in pure horror. The meteor now looked unstable. It was rumbling, and cracks began spreading from where Marcus first breached its outer shell. More and more of the green liquid spurted out. It didn’t seem long before it would explode. Marcus grumbled for help, running towards Wes. “Hey, stop! Don’t get that shit on me! I just got my pants dry!” Wes yelled. Before Marcus could even get to him, the meteor exploded. Nuclear green slime flew everywhere. Marcus got blasted back onto the ground by the sheer amount he was covered in. He didn’t look like he could move very well at all anymore. Wes was yelling out Marcus’ name when the goo flew into his mouth and covered his entire front from head to toe. I could hear him yelling as he swallowed it. “Sir!” As the meteor exploded towards us, Froy ran up to me. He used his body as a shield to block me from the slime, with his back spread out against the meteor. I looked up at him and saw fear in his eyes. Neither of us could move from where we were as we were frozen in absolute shock about what just happened. The meteor settled down, and there was green slime absolutely everywhere. It coated the trees, the grass, the soil, everything. Marcus was absolutely drenched in it, struggling to even stand up. Wes ran to a tree and began vomiting, trying to expel whatever he swallowed and trying to get himself clean again. Froy’s entire backside and his arms were completely covered. He shook his body as much as he could to try and get it off of him. “What the fuck just happened?” I asked. “That fucking—pfthuh—piece of shit meteor just fucking exploded!” Wes yelled, spitting out the remnants. “Are we going to fucking die?!” Marcus yelled, on his knees, crying in anguish at the sky, looking like a grotesque smile monster. “I don’t wanna fucking die, god!” “This is all your fault!” Wes said. “I’m fucking aware of that, Wes! I wasn’t expecting the meteor to be a fucking water balloon filled with green shit!” “Okay, everyone, just relax!” I said. “We just need to get clean and report this to the police so they can clean it up or something.” Marcus and Wes turned and glared at me, clean and dry from head to toe. “We can’t tell anyone about this! If the authorities find out we fucked with some meteor and got caught with some disease, then we might be forced to spend time in a lab until we die,” Wes said. Marcus pointed at me. “And why the fuck are you dry? Did you tell your little boytoy intern to be your shield?!” “No, he ran up to me himself. I didn’t tell him to do anything, Marcus.” “Fucking shit, man…” I stood watch by the truck while Froy, Wes, and Marcus cleaned themselves up by the river. It was nearly midnight when they got back looking absolutely exhausted after trying to get every drop of slime off their bodies for the past few hours. They dumped all their clothes in Wes’ gym bag and got into his truck in nothing but wet underwear. ‘Uncomfortable’ could not even begin to explain the atmosphere. I couldn’t even be bothered to appreciate all the hot, semi-naked bodies surrounding me when I was still reeling over what the hell just happened. I’d already seen all of them shirtless before at least once, but I had yet to see Froy’s business. Did he prefer boxers or briefs? Was he a shower or a grower? It didn’t seem that important. All I knew was that Wes was thick and hung like a motherfucker. “This has to be our secret, got it?” Wes said. “No one else can know about this.” We all agreed. None of us were in the mood to get dissected or experimented on for the rest of our lives. As Wes drove away, heading to his condo, I took one last look back at the scene. The meteor looked like a cracked egg that got blown up in a microwave. However, what seemed strange to me was how there seemed to be a lot less slime than before. What used to be a complete sheet of glowing green slime over everything was now mostly back to normal with some freckles here and there. It must have either dissipated in the atmosphere or got absorbed into the ground. Either way, it didn’t seem like that was just going to end there. I could feel in my gut that this wasn’t the last time this meteor was going to be a part of our lives. If the slime did get absorbed in the ground and trees, then what would happen with humans? There was no way they didn’t at least absorb some of it. There was just no way. Regardless, this was going to be our secret from now on. It seemed our little threesome just became a foursome.
  4. I had to overcome my Catholic guilt writing this one. Haha. I always wanted to write something from my culture and took this season as an opportunity. For many of us, whether we believe in it or not, religion is a cultural thing. Anyway, enjoy! Merry Christmas! PART 1 It was the middle of December, and Joshua Figueroa still felt groggy from the overlong flight from Heathrow to NAIA and from the two-hour bus ride to his hometown in Urreta. His father Domingo had failed to meet him in Manila. “The car broke down,” Domingo said. But Joshua knew that the old man would rather tend to his fighting roosters than inconvenience himself for his own flesh and blood. “You’re a big boy,” he called earlier. “I’m sure you can get home before dinner.” Domingo’s words proved true that afternoon when he heard his son’s footsteps coming from the wooden staircase leading to the antesala. There at the doorway of the comedor, with luggage in hand, stood a 5-foot 7-inch and 200-pound muscle bound man. “You grew.” Domingo sipped his hot chocolate which Felicidad had brought him earlier. “Of course. I wasn’t writing all the time.” The truth was, Joshua got depressed living solo as a graduate student at King’s College. Sure, the abundance of knowledge and the prestige he could get nowhere else first attracted the 140-pound man when he had stepped inside the university. But he realized later that he needed variety in his life, away from the dusty halls and dreadful conversations too common in his field. And so he used the scant time he had working out. He only wanted to blow some steam off initially. But the next thing he knew, he was putting more hours in the gym, lifting heavier weights, and gaining more quality muscle. And to prove to himself how serious he was, he hired a personal trainer named Liam who got him access to gear. “You should compete,” Liam said. “Your proportion and symmetry are to die for. If you diet down hard enough, you could place.” “I’ll think about it.” The new Joshua surprised his peers and advisers. They could not fathom how he even found time to build a phenomenal body when papers were demanding to be written. Joshua suspected that they secretly blamed his mediocrity to his lack of sacrificial dedication to the academe. But the call of the iron and the pump had already caught his heart. At least one man other than himself enjoyed his new body. As soon as he landed in Manila, Ethan called for a brief meet up over coffee. “You look like you ate yourself whole. I like it,” Ethan said, sipping his cappuccino. Merlinda, the town chandler, also said something of the like when he arrived in the cemetery to visit his mother’s grave. Such comments boosted his confidence, a little reminder that he had gone beyond that lanky kid who would ruin the game for his teammates. But there he was now, in the Figueroa ancestral house, standing before his father who kept talking about the time he lifted weights in the 70s. Joshua slept the whole afternoon and woke up late into the night. Felicidad had left him a dinner of chicken tinola which she herself cooked after Domingo’s favorite rooster lost. He devoured the lukewarm meal. He went back to bed, but he found it hard to sleep. His body was still getting used to the eight-hour difference. He wondered how he can survive this sleepy town. His friends in high school only consisted of the members of the chess club, and they had all found work abroad. He was basically setting himself up for a lengthy, unproductive holiday. But Manila was too terrible a city to offer a better alternative. Earlier that morning, inside that small comfort room in the café, Ethan was kissing his pecs and caressing his biceps. His fingers were tracing the details of his washboard abs down to his hardening cock. Seconds later, the smaller man was ramming his ass, reminding Joshua who the boss really was. At the end of the day, Ethan had powerful friends who could take Joshua to places. “See you in a few days,” Ethan said after their quick session. “The guys wanted a get-together. Carla suggests we discuss Philippe Léandre’s new work on post-humanism. But it’s Christmas, and who’s in the mood for that?” He kissed Joshua goodbye. The sound of church bells cut his thoughts short. He checked his phone. It was 4:30 in the morning. He slid the capiz shell window open and watched a familiar scene. The baroque Urreta church dominated the plaza mayor. In its yard stood a nativity scene, its manger still left empty. Cars, tricycles, and jeepneys sounded their horns to signal the arrival of the faithful. Paról or star-shaped lanterns lit every tree in the plaza where gathered the town’s families, couples, musicians, and street food vendors. It was the 16th of December, the first of the Misas de Aguinaldo or the nine Masses celebrated each early morning before Christmas Day. None of the Figueroas were religious, save for Joshua’s mother who took the burden of lighting a candle for her unbelieving relatives. Joshua used to attend such Masses with her because she would reward him afterwards with an ice cream bun and a bag of bibingka or baked rice cake. A brass band would play carols in the plaza grandstand. He would play with the street kids before his mother would call him to help her carry the bags from the market. These things made up his childhood memories of the season, different from those of his British peers who talked of Father Christmas and roast chicken and snow. Joshua got up to get dressed. If he could not sleep, he might as well do something else. He opened his grand wardrobe for some decent church clothes. He told his father to have Felicidad wash them before he arrived. But he realized just now that none of them fit him anymore. Nevertheless, he tried on his small PE shirt. Its sleeves just ripped off his arms before he even put the rest of the shirt over his head. He smirked, thinking how big he had become. He opened his luggage and took out some jeans and his favorite Nirvana t-shirt. He then saw himself topless in the wardrobe mirror. He smiled. His body looked magnificent. His eyes feasted on his broad shoulders, his bulging arms and pecs, the supple lines and curves crisscrossing his torso, all visible under the moon and lantern lights. He got hard in seconds. But his brief vanity gave way to the sound of the bells. He changed quickly and walked out of the house. He let the cool air hit his body as he strolled across the plaza. He let the smell of steamed glutinous rice and coconut milk fill his nostrils. The kids were already up, singing Christmas carols and asking strangers for some spare coins. When they saw Joshua, they flexed their arms. He flexed back and let them touch his 19-inch biceps. The town was full of life, and all the misery in the world vanished like vapor. Joshua felt like a kid again. He wished he could feel like one forever. The church was packed. Joshua came in later than most, so he had no choice but to stand up in the aisles during the whole service. He could force himself in the pews, but he knew he would take up too much space that could have been given for a grandma and her little girl. The pipe organs resounded. “Veni, veni, Emmanuel!” chanted the choir up the loft. Incense invaded Joshua’s nostrils and sent his soul to the holy of holies. And there in the wide nave, walked with utmost devotion, the ministers, acolytes, lectors, priests, and finally, the monseñor. One of the priest had a deep set of eyes which made his face a handsome one when in a good mood and a tired one when not. This time, the gauge turned to “Tired.” Joshua thought he looked familiar, and so he rummaged the obscure parts of his memories. He failed. He leaned against the pillar, letting the ceremony and the prayers pass by his consciousness. He had been dozing off from time to time. Finally his body was begging for a good rest. “Go in peace,” said the monseñor. Joshua came round from his deep slumber. The faithful who were moving out quickly while the choir was rushing through the recessional hymn. Joshua rubbed his eyes and yawned. He walked over to the side chapels by the church door where people were lighting candles and saying a few prayers to a myriad of holy images. One that caught his attention was a statue of a Dominican priest holding a ciborium in one hand and a statue of the Virgin in the other. The pedestal bore the name San Jacinto de Polonia, Urreta’s patron saint. “Making a wish, Josh?” He turned around. Before him approached the padre with a familiar face. He was two inches taller than Joshua. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt tucked into black slack pants, both oversized and made him look skeletal. His face screamed exhaustion. “Josh? Figueroa?” “Padre!” “Please, just Gío would be fine. Gío Castañeda? San Alberto Magno High School?” And then it him. Did he use play basketball? Was he that close friend of jock star Harrison Alvarez? “Oh, yes! Gío!” “Wow, man! You’ve gotten really big. How much can you bench?” A middle-aged woman approached the padre. She was carrying an image of the Santo Niño which looked too heavy for her little frame. She pressed her forehead on the padre’s hand and asked him to bless her statue of the Child Jesus. “Of course, Tita Tess. I’ll be in the grotto.” Tita Tess smiled and left. “It’s good to meet you here, Josh,” Gío said. “But I need to go. Duty awaits. See you!” He smiled and walked through the left aisle followed by more women carrying their icons, rosaries, and prayer books. Joshua noticed that the padre had a slight limp. He thought of Gío’s handsome face which triggered in him an unnamable desire. He brushed it aside. He was in a holy place after all. He turned his gaze back to San Jacinto. People said that if you complete all the nine Misas de Aguinaldo, your wish will come true. He never believed an ounce of it, but it sure filled the church to the brim during the holidays. He dropped a five-peso coin on the box that stood beside a jar of candles. He took one candle and lit it at the foot of San Jacinto. He rubbed his fingers on saint’s robes and made a sign of the cross. He then walked home, eager for a good sleep.
  5. Rory34

    Ayudando a mi amigo

    Hola, bienvenidos por fin a una nueva historia en español jaja, espero les guste, es una rápida que escribí hace poco. _________________________________________ Mi amigo William siempre fue molestado en nuestro trabajo gracias a su peso y bueno, para una agencia de modelaje la apariencia es algo muy importante. Él es el editor de las fotos y he de decir que hace un excelente trabajo el cuál muchas personas pasan por alto debido a su apariencia. Hay veces en las que incluso los modelos suelen burlarse de él y no puede hacer nada gracias a su timidez, incluso nuestro modelo más grande, Gabriel Janzi se ha sumado a esto y quizá puede que lo lleve un poco lejos con sus malos comentarios hacia él. Yo soy Dylan y a diferencia de William soy un fotógrafo profesional, y me va muy bien en este trabajo, tengo un buen auto, una genial casa con piscina y me puedo permitir varios lujos y todo eso gracias a mi increíble trabajo... Bueno... También tuve otro tipo de ayuda, pero lo explicaré más adelante. Estaba cansado de que se burlaran de William, él siempre es muy amable con todos y siempre estará dispuesto a ayudarte; cuando no me gusta el resultado de una foto siempre puedo confiar en su edición y lo soluciona, realmente me ha sacado de muchos aprietos y creo que es hora de que yo lo saque de este aprieto a él. Así que ideé un plan para que todos dejen de burlarse de William y lo primero que tenía que hacer era invitarlo a mi casa. -. Hey, cómo te va Will? -. Oh, hola Dylan, necesitas ayuda? -. No, para nada, solo quería invitarte a mi casa mañana al mediodía y almorzar juntos. -. Oh, eso sería genial Dylan! Pero... Por qué quieres invitarme a mi? Es decir eres amigo de cientos de modelos y creo que hay mejores opciones que yo... -. No digas eso hombre, te invito porque eres un gran amigo para mi y esta es mi forma de agradecerte ya que lo mereces. -. Wow, no sé qué decir, nunca me habían invitado así me siento muy alagado, así que claro que iré! -. Perfecto, te espero a las doce y media, no me falles, eh? El primer paso está listo, ahora necesito realizar el segundo, el cual es el más importante. Salí temprano del trabajo y conduje hasta las afueras de la ciudad, a un pequeño pueblo y me dirigí a una pequeña tienda, donde una conocida mía podía ayudarme con esto; recuerdan que dije que tuve ayuda con lo bien que me iba en mi vida? Bueno pues todo es gracias a Yuni, una amiga que tiene un gran conocimiento con cosas mágicas como talismanes, pociones, maldiciones y varias cosas más. -. Cómo estás Yuni? -. Dylan!? Cuanto tiempo! Qué te trae por acá? *Dijo abrazándome* -. Bueno, vine a pedirte un favor... -. Lo suponía jajaja, quieres otra poción de buena suerte? Más de la que tienes ya? -. No, no es para mi, es para un amigo. -. Y qué necesita tu amigo? -. Bueno... *Le expliqué la historia de William y mostrándole su foto* -. Ya veo... Así que quieres que dejen de molestarlo por su físico, no es así? -. Así es, y me preguntaba si tenías algo para que la gente dejé de tratarlo mal, algo como un collar o una pulsera, lo que sea para que dejen de hacerle bullying en el trabajo. -. Bueno... Temo decirte que ya no tengo nada para evitar el bullying, varios estudiantes de secundaria han venido y se los han llevado todo... -. Ow, que mal... -. Pero, si el problema que tiene la gente con él es su físico, creo que tengo lo necesario para él! *Yuni fue y sacó una cajita con una marca de un brazo musculoso en la cuál venía un frasco pequeño con forma miembro masculino* Esta es, la pócima de olympus! Es lo que ayudará a tu amigo y lo transformará de un tierno gordito a una bestia musculosa. -. Wow, realmente eso hace este frasquito!? -. Sí, solo funcionará si la persona que se bebió la pócima es expuesta al sol y está mojado y lo único que te tengo que decir es que las personas que beben de este frasco suelen tener efectos secundarios como un gran deseo sex- -. Me lo llevo! Además, lo invité a mi casa a almorzar y estaremos cerca de la piscina. *Dije interrumpiendola* -. Perfecto! Estaba muy feliz, pensar que iba a convertir a mi amigo en un titan, se oía tan excitante, la verdad no podía esperar para mañana, compré la pócima y me fui al centro comercial para comprarle ropa a mi nuevo amigo que conoceré mañana. Llegué a casa y dormí para estar preparado, me levanté temprano y preparé todo, ya eran las doce en punto y decidí preparar la bebida para mi amigo, se trataba de un coctail de piña colada y como ingrediente principal la pócima de olympus. Vertí la pócima en la bebida y al hacerlo, pasó de amarillo a morado al instante, todo estaba ya listo, solo debía esperar al invitado especial. Esperé veinte minutos y escuché el timbre, llegó justo a tiempo, lo recibí y lo llevé al patio, cerca de la piscina, iba con unos shorts y una camisa blanca que era demasiado grande, incluso para él, pero nunca le gustaba usar camisas de su talla, le gusta usar ropa más grande para sentirse cómodo. Llegamos a la piscina y le ofrecí la bebida especial, la cual aceptó con todo gusto. -. Wow, morado? Que extraño color, es algún colorante? -. Son los ingredientes, la hice especialmente para ti, jejé. -. Bueno, pues no me negaré a eso. Terminó bebiendo todo el coctail sin dejar ninguna gota. -. Wow, sabes estupendo! Como se llama este coctail? -. Es una receta que una amiga me pasó, se llama Olympus. mi plan había funcionado, todo iba a salir a la perfección, solo necesitaba que se metiera a la piscina. -. Oye... Tengo que terminar de hacer el almuerzo, por qué no te metes a la piscina un rato y luego sales para comer? -. Bueno... Es que me da un poco de vergüenza... Verás, no encontré un traje de baño decente y solo tenía un speedo verde que me regalaron en navidad y no me siento muy cómodo con él, de seguro no te gustará verme puesto con eso... -. Tonterías, me da igual el traje de baño que uses, solo entra bobito. -. Bueno, jejé... Entraré a la piscina... *Dijo con un poco de pena* William se quitó sus shorts quedándose simplemente con su speedo verde fluorescente, he de decir que por su tipo de cuerpo no le quedaba tan bien, pero eso no iba a importar una vez la pócima haya dado efecto. Entró a la piscina poco a poco, yo entré a la cocina y lo miraba por la ventana a cada rato, pero nunca sucedía nada, me cansé de esperar tanto, incluso pensé que no había dado efecto, así que decidí mejor enfocarme en hacer la comida y poner algo de música. -. Oye! Will pondré algo de música, así que si necesitas algo gritalo o ven acá! -. Esta bien Dylan! Le dí una última mirada para ver que pasaba y no ocurría nada... Así que volví a hacer el almuerzo. Mientras tanto William, estaba nadando un poco en la piscina y descansando un rato, pero comenzó a sentirse algo mal. -. Wow, creo que no debí beber ese coctail antes de meterme a la piscina... Ahora me siento algo mal... Mi cabaza me da muchas vueltas, uff... AGGHHH!!! El dolor se hacía cada vez más intenso, William no podía más, gritaba, se movía erráticaticamente, chapoteaba, pero no podía escucharlo por la música, además había perdido un poco la esperanza y pensaba que no iba a pasar nada, hasta que de repente... -. AGHHHHHH! Escuché un grito provenir de una voz grave, salí corriendo a la piscina con mi celular con la cámara puesta, pensé que William ya había salido de la piscina, pero al parecer no. -. Will!? Fuiste tú!? Dónde estás!? No lo veía flotar en la piscina, me asusté por un segundo, quizá se había ahogado... Hasta que apareció... Era él, William, bueno, el nuevo William. No podía creerlo, era mejor de lo que creía, tomé una foto de él al momento de salir de la piscina, tenía que guardar este momento para la posteridad, mi viejo amigo gordito y bajito convertido en un titan musculoso y sexy y con ese speedo que ahora se le miraba tan sexy, simplemente me quedaba sin aliento al verlo. Salió completamente de la piscina, pero al dar un paso, este cayó y se sostuvo con sus gigantescos brazos, fui a ayudarlo, pero pesaba damasiado y pudo levantarse solo; se miraba muy desconcertado. -. Hey! Will estás bien!? -. D-Dylan, qué sucedió!? Y-yo estaba en la piscina todo se puso borroso, todo me dolía, n-no se qué sucedió, por qué te ves tan pequeño!? William respiraba agitado, su pecho palpitaba y ahora tenía dos gigantescos pectorales en estos, se miraba demasiado sexy. -. C-cálmate, no pasa nada, te explicaré lo que pasó, solo siéntate en esta silla... Al sentarse en la silla está última apenas podía soportar el peso del tremendo monstruo que tenía encima. William seguía viéndose preocupado y alerta, parecía que aún no había vuelto en sí por completo, quizá la transformación fue muy repentina, seguía algo asustado. -. Bueno, primero respira un poco Will, tienes que tranquilizarte, vamos, inhala exhala, así, muy bien! *Dije mientras el gigante trataba de calmarse, pero aún tenía una cara asustada* Sé que esto fue muy repentino y puede que estés molesto, pero vi que estabas cansado de que todos te molestaran en el trabajo, así que decidí ayudarte; conseguí una pócima que transformaría tu cuerpo al de una bestia musculosa, y te la dí cuando te bebiste el coctail que te preparé y al parecer te transformarte al pasar tiempo en la piscina. William comenzaba a volver en si, se puso de pie y bajó su mirada y vio su tremendo y enorme cuerpo que había conseguido hace unos pocos minutos, no lo podía creer, estaba sorprendido, miraba sus brazos, sus pechos, sus piernas y su pene que también había crecido y al parecer quería escapar de ese speedo. -. Esto... No puede ser... Tiene-tiene que ser un sueño! Wow, mira, solo Wow! Will se dirigió a la ventana en la cual vió su nuevo y enorme reflejo. -. ESTO ES GENIAL! Mírame, soy una bestia! Me encanta! Nunca creí poder llegar a tener este cuerpo, ni yendo al gimnasio por años lo conseguiría *Dijo Will flexionando sus enormes brazos* Solo mira estas piernas, mis brazos, mi pene también es grande! Y mira estos sexys pectorales! Siempre tuve un fetiche con los pectorales, pero nunca pensé que mis tetas de gordo podrían convertirse en uno sexys y sabrosos pectorales, solo míralos, tan grandes y jugosos, vamos, toca los. Will se acercaba a mi apretando sus gigantescas tetas, las cuales obviamente accedí a tocar. -. Son tan grandes Will, me alegra que te guste tu nuevo cuerpo, que bueno que estés feliz. *Dije sonriendole y tocando sus enormes pectorales* -. Muchas gracias Dylan, esto es lo mejor que me ha pasado en la vida, muchas gracias. Me encantaba el nuevo Will, era tan sexy y su voz también lo era. -. No hay de qué Will, lo mereces por ayudarme tanto. *Comencé a apretar los pezones de Will, al parecer eso le encantaba, suspiraba cuando lo hacía* -. Wow, eso-eso se siente bien... Wow... Uff... Will estaba demasiado excitado, al parecer no podía contenerlo más. -. Oye... Puedes prestarme el baño!? Lo necesito rápido! *Dijo Will con sus manos en su entrepierna* -. Sí, claro, ve, está al fondo a la izquierda. William se fue corriendo al baño, así que decidí ir arriba a bajar toda la ropa que le compré. Mientras tanto William estaba en el baño, pero se encontraba dándose placer asimismo, al parecer no podía contener más su excitación, debía sacarlo, masturbaba su enorme verga rápidamente, pellizcaba sus pezones mientras lo hacía y esto lo ayudó a venirse, chorros de semen salían del nuevo pene de Will, dejó todo completamente empapado. -. UFFF AGH! Escuché un grito venir del baño, baje rápidamente con la ropa en mano y fui a ver que pasaba; Will salía del baño y se cubría su miembro, y parecía muy apenado. -. Hey, está todo bien? -. Sí... Solo tuve un problema, pero creo que ya pasó. *Decía Will con una grave y tierna voz al mismo tiempo* -. Muy bien, esto es para ti! *Dije mostrándolo una bolsa* Como supuse que necesitarías ropa nueva, luego de tu transformación, decidí comprar te esta, solo son un pantalón, una camisa y unas sandalias, todas extra grande. -. Wow, en serio, muchas gracias, no sé cómo agradecértelo... Este... Podrías pasarme el pantalón? Jeje... Will se puso sus pantalones nuevos, le quedaban muy bien, y algo apretados, se miraba muy sexy con ellos, e incluso se le formaba un buen paquete. -. Bueno, la verdad es que lo hice con gusto, pero si algún día quieres recompensarme estaré dispuesto a hacer lo que sea. -. M-muchas gracias, jejeje... La verdad es que me encanta mi nuevo cuerpo, pero me da un poco de pena que me quedé tan apretada la ropa... -. Bromeas? Mírate ahora! Te ves estupendo! Yo creo que necesitas mostrarle a todos lo genial que te ves! Mostrarles que ya no eres William el gordito, sino William el sexy monstruo musculoso! -. Sí... Creo, creo que tienes razón, sí. -. Muy bien, ahora si quieres podemos pasar la tarde jun- -. Es cierto! Tengo que salir y que el mundo vea mi nuevo yo! Adiós Dylan, iré a disfrutar un poco de mi nuevo cuerpo, Muchas gracias! William, me interrumpió y luego de decir eso, tomó sus cosas y se fue corriendo, aún con su camisa mojada, su pantalón apretado y sus sandalias nuevas, se veía muy sexy, pero me dejó sin poder hacer nada, nisiquiera me escuchó al detenerlo, me sentía muy frustrado, pero al mismo tiempo, estaba seguro que no era la última vez que lo iba a ver, y no podía esperar a verlo mañana en el trabajo, luego de eso, me dirigí al baño y al entrar, encontré lo que Will había hecho; dejó todo cubierto de su semen, el lavamanos, las cortinas, el espejo, todo estaba lleno de su lefa, era por eso que estaba tan apenado. Mientras tanto William fue a hacer varias compras, ropas, zapatos, calzoncillos, jock straps y varias cosas más, al parecer usó todo el dinero que había ahorrado toda su vida. Llegó la noche y Will se encontraba solo en su habitación, acababa de salir de bañarse, estaba completamente desnudo, se miró frente al espejo, pensó en lo que dije, de mostrarle a todos su nuevo cuerpo, y al final suspiró y dijo. -. Realmente... Este soy yo... Desde mañana todo será diferente, todos me tratarán diferente, yo soy diferente. Llegó la mañana siguiente, yo fui al trabajo en mi auto lujoso como siempre, entré y extrañamente no vi a Will en su escritorio, era extraño, él era siempre el que venía temprano, todos habían llegado menos él, realmente pensé que ya no vendría; pero al parecer me equivoqué. Will entró por la puerta principal, estaba usando una camiseta sin mangas que le quedaba algo ajustada, parecía que sus pechos iban a salir en cualquier momento, junto a eso, también llevaba unos jeans oscuros y ajustados en los cual se formaba un enorme paquete, justo como el de ayer, y por último unas botas timberland; todos estaban sorprendidos viendo a semejante bestia entrar de una manera muy confiada y vistiendo de una forma muy sexy, unos no sabían quién era, pero los que solían molestar a William se dieron cuenta de que era él, el gordito William, pero ahora convertido en un monstruo sexy y musculoso. Todos murmuraban, obviamente estaban hablando de él, y al parecer no le importaba, de hecho podría asegurar que le gustaba que hablaran de él, realmente lo opuesto a como era antes; Will, seguía caminando con una cara muy confiada, se dirigía hacia mi. -. Hola Dylan, Buenos días. *Dijo con su sexy y profunda voz* -. H-hola, buenos días... Dormiste bien? Me derretía por ese hombre, tanto que casi no podía hablar. -. Sí, jajá, dormí tan bien; luego de irme a casa comí como loco, incluso más de lo que comía cuando estaba gordo, y también me masturbé tres veces antes de dormir, fue muy bueno, al parecer este nuevo cuerpo me pide nuevas necesidades que no tenía antes. -. Wow, tres veces, eh? -. Sí... Desde que me transformé en esto suelo estar muy caliente, incluso lo estoy ahora... *Dijo dando un largo suspiro* Sabes? Daría lo que fuera para que alguien de aquí me haga una mamada ahora mismo. Eso fue, al decirme eso no podía más, estaba realmente exitado, tenía que hacer que ese gigante me diera esa mamada. -. Oye, yo estoy libre unos 15 minutos, sabes? -. Jejé, sabía que podía contar con mi mejor amigo aquí. Vamos a divertirnos. Me tomó con un brazo, me puso en su hombro y me llevó al armario del conserje, ahí bajó sus pantalones hasta sus rodillas y sacó su verga de ese jock strap que parecía que iba estallar en cualquier momento, yo comencé abriendo mi boca e iba a mamarsela poco a poco, o al menos ese era mi plan hasta que el gigante tomó mi cabeza con una mano y la acercaba y alejaba bruscamente hacia él, sinceramente no sé como pude aguantar semejante falo, llegaba hasta lo profundo de mi garganta que incluso dolía y además tenía que abrir bien la boca, ya que era muy grueso, tenía que pedir pausas para respirar y el me las daba, pero tan pronto podía regresaba a tomarme de la cabeza y hacer que se la chupara; mientras tanto yo solo podía masturbarme, me excitaba mucho esto, esto es lo que quería, quería sentir todas las fibras de este hombre dentro de mi. -. Que rico, por dios! Nunca, agh, nunca me la habían mamado antes, esto es demasiado bueno... Mierda, agh! Yo solo gemía a todo lo que decía y veía atentamente su cara, le encantaba volar mi boca con su enorme tranca. -. Puta, creo que... Ahhh... Creo que me voy a venir! El ritmo comenzó a acelerarse y yo ya me estaba viniendo también, se veía que iba a explotar en cualquier momento, hasta que... Lo hizo, se vino dentro de mi y tragué sus litros y litros de esperma que había depositado en mi boca. -. Agh... Wow... Si... Que tiraste mucho... Semen... *Dije con mis últimos alientos tirado en el piso* -. JAJAJA, wow! Me siento realmente poderoso ahora! Eso estuvo muy bueno, siempre quise que me hicieran una mamada, que bueno que fuiste tú el que me la hizo. Luego de decir eso me levantó y me besó mientras que yo aún tenía rastros de su semen en mi boca. -. Oye... Si tienes tiempo ahora podemos seguir con esto, aún tengo mucha leche aquí mismo. *Dijo moviendo su enorme pene y sus grande bolas* -. Uff... Agh, lo siento, tengo una sesión de fotos con Gabriel ahora mismo, será una sesión de él completamente desnudo, quizá te la pase luego para que la edites. -. Desnudo, eh?.. Bueno, creo que quiero ver eso también. -. Sí, ya me tengo que ir y estoy empapado. -. Oh, no te preocupes, en mi escritorio tengo unas toallitas húmedas para que te limpies. Eso fue realmente amable, parecía que aún quedaba un poco del viejo Will en esa enorme montaña de músculos con gran deseo sexual. Luego de limpiarme, llegó el momento, era hora de sacar a relucir mi talento y tomarle las fotos al modelo más grande de la compañía, Gabriel Janzi, el cuál también era uno de los más grandes bullies de Will. Yo sabía que Will tomaría venganza en cualquier momento, el problema era que no sabía cuándo ni cómo, así que en cualquier momento podría atacar, además que Gabriel no sabía nada aún del cambio de Will, así que quería estar ahí para ver su cara cuando se entere de esto. Gabriel ya estaba listo, tenía un cuerpo genial, un miembro muy bueno y un trasero grande, pero nunca podría llegar a ser igual de sexy y grande que Will eso estaba claro; todo estaba listo, Gabriel en su posición posando, yo con el lente preparado y apuntando, cuando de repente. *PUM* Bruscamente Will entró a la sala repentinamente con una cara decidida, Gabriel como su bullie, lo reconoció al instante, estaba atónito ante semejante monumento. -. William? Que mierda te pasó? -. JAJAJA, te sorprende verme, no pequeñín? luego de muchas burlas, bromas y comentarios, se podría decir que finalmente obtuve lo que siempre merecí. Will se acercaba más y más a Gabriel, hasta tenerlo entre él y la pared, donde comenzó a romper su camisa, pantalones y reventó su jock strap quedando completamente desnudo y con su miembro totalmente erecto. -. Q-qué vas a hacer!? *Dijo Gabriel preocupado* -. Darte lo que siempre has merecido a ti también... Y sucedió lo inevitable, Will tomó a Gabriel de su trasero y comenzó a lamerlo, y abrirlo, luego de un rato escupió a su enorme verga para lubricarla y lo introdujo bruscamente al ano de Gabriel. -. AGHHH!! DETENTE... YAAGHH -. JAJAJA, no cabrón, Agh- estas bien rico, uff, lo tienes bien apretadito. William embestía fuertemente a Gabriel, disfrutaba hacerlo gritar, disfrutaba darse placer con la persona que lo molestaba, realmente era excitante, tanto que hasta tuve que empezar a masturbarme también. -. Uff, que rico! Oye Dylan, deberías tomar fotos de esto, estoy seguro... Agh, que a todos les encantará verme violar a este maricón. Y así como lo dijo lo hice, comencé a tomar fotos de la tremenda cogida que Will le daba a Gabriel, solía cambiarlo de posición siempre, lo ponía en cuatro y comenzaba a flexionar para la cámara, lo cargaba y pedía que enfocara la cara de Gabriel gimiendo como loco, incluso lo hacía chupar su enorme pene mientras el pellizcaba sus pezones de sus enormes pectorales, entre otras, luego de estar un largo rato follando Will comenzaba a aumentar velocidad al igual que cuando se la estuve mamando, sabía que se iba a venir, debía estar preparado para tomar la foto final, la foto de la venida. -. UFFF, ME VENGO PENDEJO! AGHHHH -. AGHHH, MIERDA... Will estalló completamente, llenó a Gabriel con su semen, era tanto que su ano seguía chorreando con el semen incluso luego de que Will sacara su enorme tranca, realmente lo había hecho, se había vengado de su bravucón y de la mejor manera posible. -. Ahhh... Esto fue... Demasiado bueno... creo que no me había venido tanto antes, dejé todo empapado... Jejé... Oye... Dylan, tómame una foto, con mi verga cubierta de semen, estoy seguro que me veo muy sexy, no es así Gabriel? -. Aghhhh... -. DIJE! NO ES ASÍ GABRIEL? -. Aghhh...Sí...lo eres... -. Jajaja... Veo que estas empezando a entender tu nueva posición aquí... Tomé la foto como pidió, realmente era muy sexy, un completo dios musculoso en todo su explendor luego de haber preñado a su presa. Will salió de la sala de fotografía completamente desnudo, junto a Gabriel y yo en cada uno de sus brazos, Gabriel se encontraba casi inconsciente con tremenda cogida, mientras que yo sin pantalones y con mi pene escurriendo un poco de semen, pero claro, para nada como el pene de Will, estaba cubierto y escurría mucho más que él mío. El jefe llegó molesto y se sorprendió al vernos y más al ver que uno de sus mejores modelos fue bruscamente follando por el editor, se quedó sin palabras, así que decidí mostrarle las fotografías que había tomado, en especial la última, en la que Will lucía en todo su explendor. -. Esto... Esto es increíble! Es lo que necesitamos, un dios musculoso! Esto nos ayudará a vender más! Cómo dices que te llamas grandote? -. Me llamo William, soy el editor de acá. -. William, te interesaría ser nuestro nuevo modelo estrella? -. Claro que sí! Me encantaría serlo! Pero antes... Tengo unas pequeñas peticiones que quisiera que se cumplan... Y eso fue lo que cambió la vida profesional de Will, pasó de ser el editor gordito y maltratado a ser la nueva estrella de nuestra empresa de modelaje; claro que con algunas peticiones que se tuvieron que cumplir... Ahora Gabriel tenía que ser el asistente de William y debía servirlo y tratarlo como su amo y ser su puta personal, también le consiguieron un cuarto de descanso, que era donde solía follar a Gabriel cuando tuviera ganas, aunque también solía ir con él para tener un poco de sexo candente, ya que era increíble hacerlo con él y al parecer también le encantaba hacerlo conmigo, incluso comenzó a llevar a más chicos para follarlos, realmente le encantaba pasar el rato ahí, no lo molestabamos para nada, solamente para las seciones de fotos y prueba de vestuario, las cuales estaba feliz de hacer siempre. Sin duda la vida de Will dió un completo giro, él estaba encantado con su nuevo cuerpo, nuevo trabajo, nueva vida, fue lo mejor que le pudo haber pasado, incluso fue de lo mejor que pudo pasarme a mi, tener a un macho que esta dispuesto a tener sexo cuando quieras, es de lo mejor, y por eso es que estoy feliz de haberlo ayudado, estoy feliz de haber ayudado a mi amigo. _________________________________________ Y esto fue todo, espero que les haya gustado, y disculpen si se siente algo apresurada o si hay algún error, pero realmente tenía que sacar esta historia ya, no podía aguantarme más xD Por cierto, algunas de las imágenes son unos edits que hice, no son reales (ojalá y si)
  6. xlordwylderx

    Summoning the muscle demon

    I didn’t know if this was going to work. I had just graduated with a completely useless degree in philosophy, and was now back home, applying for jobs. My parents had gone on vacation, and left me to clean the attic. I had found the spell book in my grandfather’s trunk in the attic, written in Chinese. With the help of google translate I figured some stuff out. I spent a day making the preparations. Everything about me was so average. Average height, average weight, average everything. I was the kind of guy who should have been the perfect spy because no one would have ever picked me out of the crowd. I was tired of being like that. If this worked, I would get my deepest desire. I had been in the middle of drawing the chalk circle, using my phone to translate the Chinese. I wasn’t quite sure the tones were right so I mumbled them to myself. And then a wind came from nowhere, knocking me flat on my back. When I sat up, the most handsome ripped gorgeous man I had ever seen, stood in front of me. He was like and ultra-jacked version of Daniel Henney, with insanely carved abs, jutting pecs, mountain range of shoulders, and biceps that put bowling balls to shame. His voice was the sexiest growling bass I had ever heard. “Why did you summon me?” My mind was farting, incredulous, disbelieving that it had actually worked. He glared at me. “Speak, human.” He gritted his teeth, pacing towards me, easily crossing the unfinished chalk circle “Why. Did. You. Summon. Me.” I yelped and backed away. Fuck. I was so utterly fucked. Crap, why hadn’t I been standing near the door? At least then I could run. What the fuck had I done? A wall met my back. A big thick arm reached out to hit the wall my back was up against. He was so much taller than me, I only came up to his pert quarter sized nipples. And now I was trapped between a wall and what looked like 300 lbs of hot angry muscled demon. “Tell. Me. Now.” “I…I…” I couldn’t voice my deepest desire. “I was bored.” He blinked in disbelief. “You were bored?” I scratched my head and laughed. “You summoned a demon. Just because you were bored.” “Ummm.” He shoved away from the wall, and shook his head, muttering to himself. “Humans so fucking stupid.” He looked at me. “Did you even read the rest of the book?” “Ummmm…” He dragged his hand across his handsome face. “Do you even know what kind of demon I am?” My mind raced. I had only thought I was practicing the spell. I hadn’t been prepared for this at all. He rolled his eyes at my silence. “I'm in an Incubus.” I snapped my fingers. “Yes! I knew it.” He gave me a condescending look. “Give the smart boy a prize.” “Ummm, so as an incubus, you do desires right?” He exhaled in frustration. “I ‘do’ desires? Fucking human.” A glow surrounded him, his voice deepening and I suddenly had the deepest desire to get on my knees, and worship him and the thick length I had seen hints of in his gray sweatpants. His hand was on my throat. “I AM desire.” I had never been so close to perfection, never been so fucking hard in my life. He smirked, knowing it. “I can see that little hard on of yours.” His eyes roamed my body. “Fuck it. I know why you really summoned me. He released my throat and I nearly whined at the absence. Holy fuck, what the hell had I gotten into? “There’s only one reason why little boys like you always summon me.” This was it. This was part of the bargain. My mouth felt so dry. “The real reason?” “I want to hear it from your mouth.” He stepped closer, stroking my face so gently. “You humans never want to tell the truth about what you want. You have all these ideas of what you should and shouldn’t do, what you should want and what you shouldn’t.” He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “Tell me what you want. Now.” “I want — I want to be big like you.” “Is that all.” “I want to be strong. I want men and women to look at me, and respect me, want me, fear me.” “Now that’s more like it. Now you are speaking the truth. And what are you willing to give me.” “What do you want?” “Nothing much. Just your body.” As expected. I turned to look at him, letting my fear and skepticism show. “I haven’t been summoned in over a thousand years.” He looked away, taking a deep breath, his gorgeous chest filling as his nostrils flared. “This world smells fresh and new, and I want to see it. I want to fuck in it. And the only way I can do that is with a willing human host.” He came towards me. “It won’t be so bad. You’ll have exactly what you asked for. You’ll even have riches beyond your wildest dreams.” He placed his hot huge hand, spanning practically my entire chest. “All you have to do is give in to me.” My mind raced, trying to figure out what I had remembered to put all the other things in place. Had I remembered to paint the symbol right? God I was so fucked if I hadn’t. His hand drifted lower, and lower. I sucked in my breath, trembling as he followed the curve of my belly down to my cock. I was totally fucked anyway. “So small,” he said, curling a thick finger around my head. I shuddered at the sensation. “But you can be different. I can make you different. Better.” I knew I had to get the next part right. “S-Show me.” His eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise that I knew some of the rules. “G-Give me a taste.” He raised his eyebrow. “Very well then.” His pants disappeared. I nearly trembled at the sight. People say that they have monster cocks. But this, thick pulsing tube of veins and darkness, larger than possible on any human man. was truly a monster cock. He stepped forward. “Suck it.” I reached out and wrapped my two hands around him, opening my mouth as wide as I could, even knowing it wouldn’t fit. And yet it must have been magic, because I got my mouth around the head. “Oh fuck. Yes. It’s been too long since I had a human suck my cock. Even if it is a puny fucking human like you. But you won’t be puny for long.” His hands grabbed and pulled at my hair as he thrust his cock into my mouth. I choked, but somehow kept taking it. “Fuck yes.” Thrust. “Oh, fuck yes.” I had never wanted anything more in my mouth than his cock. I sucked harder, faster as the massive man fucked me with his demon cock. With each thrust, I got hotter. Tighter. Harder. I wanted more, more of him more of his delicious cock. And then he shoved me back. I nearly fell backwards, and normally I would have, but I caught myself? He snapped his fingers. A full length mirror appeared next to me. “Watch.” I stared at the image of me in the mirror. Veins pulsed popping forward, pumping me with shuddering vibrations, rising from my skin like roads. And then my body locked up, freezing me in place. I opened my mouth to scream, but I couldn’t move. And then it happened all at once. Hot muscles bulging forth barely contained, biceps surging, exploding shoulders, stretching ripping seams, thick cords of sinew welling up in my legs, bubbling my ass, everything tingling, so much pressure pressure from the inside out pushing forth everything throbbing throbbing, so fucking hard, so fucking good. I fell to my knees, gasping, clutching my thickening chest, rising pecs slabs, getting harder, thicker, heavier, bigger, my groans deepening with each gasping breath, heart pounding, fluttering faster than I ever thought possible. I stared at my biceps bulging into bigger balls than I had ever even dreamed of, watched the vein snake across it. I opened my mouth. “Oh fuck yeah.” My eyes widened at the deep unfamiliar voice. “Holy fuck I’m getting so big.” The demon smiled at me, his hands wrapped around his massive cock, jerking himself off. “Fuck I forgot how fucking hot it was to watch.” The throbbing slowed but continued. Fuck. I stood up staring at the mirror, at the man with huge ripped biceps rising from the remains of shredded shirt sleeves. My arms felt massive. “Fuck that feels good.” The throbbing resumed. Two plates popped forward from my chest, stretching my shirt to superhero tightness. It looked as if there was a superhero chest. “Flex,” said the demon. I obeyed. The shirt ripped, revealing a chest that could rival any superheroes. “Yes!” My hands, my big gloriously veiny beautiful hands ran themselves over my brickhouse abs, the V at my hips. “Oh my god, YES.” I couldn’t believe my fucking muscles, the bodybuilder pecs, the remains of my shredded shirt. “So fucking big.” I flexed feeling my magificent biceps. “And now below.” My eyes widened. “What?” My feet burst forth, sinew thickening my calves, my thighs. “Rip off your fucking pants, boy.” Once more I obeyed. Just in time to see my balls drop. Big fucking balls. And my cock. The demon sucked his teeth. “So fucking small.” I stared at it, waiting for it grow. Needing it to grow. But it didn’t. “Just a taste, just a taste,” he said smiling. I stared at my tiny cock, which now looked so much smaller compared to the rest of me. “You can’t leave me like this!” He came close to me. Holy fuck, I had gotten taller too, because now I could look him in the eyes. “I won’t. But only if you say yes.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “And give my body to you.” “Yes. That is what I said.” I took a deep breath. And spat in my hand. He raised an eyebrow. I slapped him on the shoulder. He blinked. Then froze. I blinked. Holy fuck did it work? Oh my god, no time. I had to say the words now. “Ni Shi Wo de.” I said in Chinese. And Now You Are Mine. He didn’t move. I walked around him. He was as still as a statue. I punched the air. “It fucking worked!” My spit had re-activated a seal painted on my hand. A seal, that placed on a demon such as he, made him mine. With chalk I drew a circle around him. “Now, are you going to be a good demon, and do what I wish?” I knew he could hear and see everything. “Or am I going to have to send you back.” And then I released him. But he merely folded his arms. “Fine. Whatever.” I blinked. I had expected more of a fight. He rolled his eyes. “You humans lead such short lives anyway. It’s just easier to out wait your lifespan. And half the time, you want us to do what we want to do anyway. So fine fine, I’m bound to you, it ain’t my first time on this chariot.” “This was shockingly easier than I expected.” I had done it! I had actually bound a demon to me. “Holy fuck!” He looked at me and gave me a suggestive leer. “Now let’s finish what we started.” “Yes. Grow my fucking cock.” To my surprise, the big muscle demon knelt. “Yes, master.” And then he opened his mouth and took me in his mouth. “Ohmyfuckinggod.” His mouth was utter perfection. “Yes, take it take me. All the way.” “Fuck hell yeah.” I could feel my cock growing, growing. Growing. “Make me a real man. Big fucking cock. Suck my cock.” And so the demon did. And when he finally popped my massive cock from his mouth it was dinosaur demonic as his. “Look at this,” I roared in my incredibly deep voice. “What the fuck did you do to me?” It swung from me like a baseball bat. “How the fuck am I supposed to walk around with this in my pants? “I like it,” he shrugged. “But we can make it more reasonable if you like.” He snapped his fingers and instantly, it became more human-sized. Still way bigger than I ever imagined being but, more reasonable I suppose. “I can change it back any time you wish, Master.” There was something too obedient about him. What was he planning? I walked past him and grabbed the pendant from the drawer. I held it out to him. “Rest now. I’ll call you when I need you.” He shrugged and vanished. Leaving behind the mirror. A gorgeous model of a man stared back at me. Now it was time to do what I had always wanted to do. And finally say something to my best friend who I had had a crush on for years.
  7. Here is a link to the previous chapters: Chapter 1-8 I wanted to restart another thread to have more control over the thread itself. Chapter 9: Zach and Aaron walked into the lifeguard tower interior, both their hard dicks rubbing up against their suits. They both laid their items by the door. The sunlight beating through the tinted glass windows. The shadows cast onto each of their muscles perfectly, helping to highlight muscle hidden by Aaron's slight layer of bulky fat. "Wow, you look even better in here!" exclaimed Zach, walking closer to Aaron. He noticed that he was towering over him. Aaron must have been no larger than 5'6" but his bulky muscles made him look a fair bit larger. His buzzed brown hair was neat, deep brown eyes, flawless young skin, and sexy smile "That's awfully humble of you." Aaron said with a teethy grin, as Zach began to hit his double bicep pose again. Aaron began to rub Zach's bulging arms, as Zach let out soft grunts. Zach loved that he was the object of another man's muscle lust. He enjoyed watching Aaron drool over his ripped body. He liked how Aaron's strong fingers nicely squeezed his buff arms. "Now, tell me where do you get these bulky muscles from?" inquired Zach as he let his arms down. Aaron's arms had a nice bulk to them that made them look absolutely massive. Not to mention Aaron's legs were extremely large in comparison to the rest of his body. "Well, I'll be a senior in college this next year and I play rugby for my school. I work out when I can." "Well that explains the legs." Zach said grabbing Aaron's strong thighs, rubbing them softly . "They feel so powerful." "Emmm, yeah. They're my favorite muscles of mine. Can't skip leg day!" Zach continued to rub and squeeze Aaron's thighs. While Aaron closed his eyes, smiling. Zach got really close to Aaron's face. "Do you remember me from yesterday?" Aaron began to get a little red in the face. No one ever wants to forget someone they've been introduced to before, "Uh, I can't say that I do. You look very familiar but I don't believe I've met you before now." "Remember the two meat heads you made arm wrestle yesterday? The one's you videotaped so you could jack off to it when you got home? I was the scrawny one with them." Zach replied calmly. "What!? It can't be. The guy with them was just as handsome but much smaller than you." Aaron retorted. "Yeah, I've grown a lot since then but that was me yesterday. I can't say I didn't feel a little jealous with you giving my dad and his friend all the attention." "Hopefully you'll forgive me for that. You gotta admit those two take the air out of the room for everyone else. But I gotta ask. How did you get so big in a day? I've seen some dudes explode after a cycle but nothing like this?" Aaron replied inquisitively. " Well, that's why I came here to see you today. I wanted to get a little attention from your hot little self and to show you how I grew." Zach said walking over to his bag, pouring out four pills, and grabbing his bottle of water. "Here you go, Aaron. Take a couple of these. I promise you won't regret it at all." Aaron felt a little suspicious of taking random pills from someone he barely knew but his curiosity had certainly been peaked. He'd really gotten serious about upping his workouts recently in addition to his sports. There wasn't any doubt that he wanted to be absolutely huge and impossibly strong. "Uh, I'm not sure. It seems like they work but I'd like you to take a dose yourself since it seems pretty fast-acting . Maybe I will try it then." Zach smiled, "Wise decision. I'd hoped you would say that." as he popped a couple in mouth, leaving the rest upon the table, and chased them down with his water. The effects of the pills were instantenous as Zach's body began to respond well to the pills. He instantly felt the familiar, orgasmic rush alongside with extreme heat and twitching within his muscles. He started loudly moaning and groaning as he could feel an ever so slight expansion of his muscles. Aaron watched at this reaction, as his dick immediately stood in attention again. He was saw Zach's back slowly growing and definition being added to ever single muscle on his body. Aaron knew that he immediately needed to take some of these pills as he greedily snatched the pills remaining on the table. He likewise took a swig of water and quickly swallowed the pills. "Emm. I see that. UGH. You've decided to. Oooh, yeah. Join me." stated Zach through pleasurable grunts and groans. Aaron had a similar set of effects on his short, bulky body. He felt woozy as his eyes rolled up into his head with intense pleasure. However, a distinct burning sensation began to happen all around his body. The mixture of pain and pleasure was nearly too much to handle. "Oh, yeah. It hurts sooooo good." Aaron said as the pleasure and pain increased to insane levels. This comment was somewhat strange to Zach as he hadn't ever had severe feelings of pain other than some sorenes afterwards. It seemed Aaron didn't care too much about it. "Look at how big you're growing, Zach. Look at those nipples being pushed down by your growing chest muscles." Aaron said through cycling bouts of pain and pleasure. Zach looked down to see his pecs growing, beginning to block his view of his lower body. As he looked up he saw Aaron growing - fast. Much faster than Zach's dad, Brett, and even himself. Aaron's whole body was rapidly expanding on his small stature. It was immediately clear that he was a hyper-responder to the drug, as he began to expand in every direction. "Yes, I feel so fucking powerful." Aaron growled. The most notable change in Aaron's body is that he was growing more than just muscle. His stomach began to distent growing into a hard turtle-shell stomach. He had a well-defined set of abs sitting atop a strong, knotted stomach. His pecs swelled up into pillows as they perked up with huge mounds of muscle. His arms were quickly being pushed away as a result, they were likewise growing. They had a nice layer of fat on top of the clearly large muscles that made his arms look even larger. He could feel his feet sliding away from his body as his quads filled out his swimming trunks, pushing up the hems farther and farther up his leg. Aaron looked down past his pecs and saw his thighs roping up with muscle and veins, while his calves grew into wide diamonds. By the end he must have easily grew to 320 pounds of bloated muscle - much more than any other individuals growth thus far. A dusting of hair appeared on Aaron's body while his face grew a short beard that fit handsomely on his sexy face. All the while Aaron was in absolute ecstasy. Zach himself had completely forgotten about his own growth as he focused exclusively on Aaron's inhuman growth. "Emmm. Look at how big I got. That was only one dose and I'm already way bigger than you, Zach." as he threw his head in the air. Aaron began feeling up his enormous muscle gut, while his swim suit rode up into a small bundle around his fat cock. "Look at my sexy muscle gut. I can't believe it took so little time for one to develop. Imagine how many years of roiding I'd have to do to get a turtle shell like this." Zach just stood in disbelief as this short stud turned into a magnificent muscle bear. He was so turned on seeing him rubbing his huge gut knowing he'd been the one who gave it to him. "Now come here and suck me off." commanded Aaron as he shimmied his suit down his legs. He was glad he decided to wear his spandex one's today, hoping that he'd be able to put them back on afterwards. Aaron proceeded to lay on the table, spreading his legs wide to give Zach room. Zach did exactly as commanded as he stood above his huge body laying on the table. Aaron's fat cock exposed, standing straight up. Zach gently placed his mouth over Aaron's dick as he began to slide his lips up to his dripping mushroom head down to the base. All the while he tried to look into Aaron's eyes, but couldn't due to the fact that they had been completely obscured by his behemoth pecs. Zach put it hands on his thick, muscular stomach and rubbed up and down upon it. Feeling the powerful midsection as it was rapidly rising up and down. Aaron groaned as he curved his back from the pure power and pleasure he got from having a sexy, muscle bound man suck him off. He continued laying on his back and began to run his big pillowy pecs. "Yeah, rub that muscle gut. Doesn't it feel so knotty and manly?" Zach just moaned in approval as he began to methodically lick the precum from Aaron's thick head. Aaron slowly lifted himself up to situp straight on the table. His stomach lightly pushed into Zach's head, as kept rubbing his hands up in down to a beat following his mouth. He slowly began to pet Zach's head to encourage him to keep going. Zach was giving him by far the best blowjob he'd ever had. Eventually, Zach removed his mouth from his dick and pulled down his trunks. He then began to rub his own dick up against Aaron's. They were both roughly the same "10 but Aaron's was slightly more girthy. "Oh, god this feels so right. I've never seen someone grow as much as you from one dose, I didn't even know it was possible. Everything about you is so powerful, and being so young you only have room to get bigger and bigger and BIGGER." Zach cried out. "Yes, I want to get so big. I want my whole body to turn in nothing but big, bulky muscle. Imagine how big and hard my gut could get. Maybe my quads can follow suit. I'd love to see them grow so large that I can't even touch my feet together. Oh, that would be fucking perfect." In that moment Aaron took his quads and pushed them onto Zach's body, pushing him on top of his dick. Zach couldn't move out of the prison Aaron's quads had made, they were far too powerful. Aaron picked Zach up with his impossibly powerful quads and began to quickly rub Zach's dick against his own. Zach shouted, "Aaron, I think I'm close. I so fucking close to busting my load. Please, don't stop." as he held onto Aaron's quads. Aaron moaned out, "please bust your load all over my abs. I want your cum all over my BIG stomach." Zach and Aaron almost immediately began to cum volley after volley of hot cum. Both of their loads mixing onto Aaron's big belly running into crevices between his abs. As both began to calm down from intense experience Aaron spoke saying, "look at me. Look at what you've done to me. Look how big and sexy you've made me." "Trust me I don't want to look away." Zach said panting. Eventually, Zach started packing all of his stuff away and to head back to the house. Aaron spoke up, still heavily breathing on the edge of the table, "will I get to see you again? That was the best sex of my life!" Zach smiled, "of course, dude. Let me give you my address, we're staying at the house just behind this tower. Come see me when you get off work." Zach quickly trudged back to the beach house, hoping his suit wouldn't burst into pieces.
  8. lolpoooper

    Wrong Target (part 10 added 10/11/22)

    Hey there, first time poster, long time lurker. This is a gender swapped story of Deviantart's Morefriction's story Wrong Target from their HERS universe. Posted with their permission ofc. Hope you all like it. The lockdowns were ruining everything. All of Kyle's classes were online and he'd been laid off of his part-time job, so he didn't even have an excuse to leave the house anymore. He'd been stuck in the house with his freaking parents for months on end, while it seemed like everyone he ever knew was out in the real world enjoying their lives, finding boyfriends, making money, and living in their own apartments. And, Kyle thought, bitterly, getting the damned HIMS virus. OK, so he only actually knew one guy who'd gotten it—Liam Stilson, who'd apparently gotten so huge that the government was sending him checks just so he could afford food and a giant studio apartment within walking distance of where he worked. But it was everywhere. All over social media, guys his age were posting these crazy before and after pics of their HIMS virus transformations. Kyle had found it bizarre, at first, then somewhat grotesque. Their muscles were so huge and bulging that they were completely impossible to hide or really even to cover, not that most of the guys bothered. They were always out, plain for the world to see, and people were always staring at them like they were obsessed. And for Kyle, who had spent no small part of his college career avoiding the "freshman fifteen" with a religious exercise routine and frequent salads, the very idea of stuffing yourself like a total pig, so hungry that you couldn't even stop yourself from eating, was an actual nightmare. But as Kyle started seeing more of them, and he got used to seeing their absurd forms, something kind of clicked. There was one post where a guy was just walking down a crowded sidewalk. It was just a twenty second clip, taken from his perspective, which must have been nine or ten feet in the air, but Kyle had watched it countless times. It was something about the way the guy's immense shoulders swayed lazily from side to side with his slow, deliberate gait, the way that even through the camera you could just feel how huge he was; the way everyone on the street was staring at him, taking pictures of him, and all of them looking so strangely small. Suddenly, Kyle got it. He started following the original poster, then discovered a dozen other HIMS accounts to follow as well. He found the idea occupying a larger and larger space in his mind, and the idea that he could be one of those guys, that people might look at him that way, became an obsession. Especially considering that Kyle himself was only 5’11’’ in a very tall family. He wanted to know what it was like not looking up at people anymore. But Kyle wasn't going to catch HIMS like this. His parents had him washing his hands a hundred times a day, disinfecting anything and everything that came from outside the house, and he wasn't even supposed to go anywhere unless he absolutely needed to. His mother found the idea disgusting. Possibly because of her own 6’2’’ body, which she was always proud of, and which she loved. She disliked the idea of these men being so much taller than everyone else. As for his father? It seemed as if he wasn't much into the idea either. His father had spent decades of his life working on his own body. He was already fairly tall, at 6'4'', and the years spent working out in the gym were obvious in the way his immense muscles stretched his shirts and sweatpants he wore around the house even at the age of 54. Kyle thought that his dad simply might have felt he had no need to take his own body any further, and go through all the rigmarole that a HIMS infection could put him through at home and at work. His father was a successful man that had pretty much everything he wanted, and he didn’t want to disturb that. But Kyle soon found a solution. After following countless links and reading countless discussions of other men who wanted to catch the HIMS virus despite the government's restrictions, Kyle found a man selling contaminated items online, things he'd been in contact with when he'd manifested the HIMS virus symptoms. Without thinking twice, Kyle had paid the five hundred dollar asking fee, which almost completely drained his bank account. He got excited, imagining himself growing taller, stronger. He loved the idea of being even bigger and more masculine than his old man. Something he wouldn’t have thought was even possible not that long ago. When the package finally arrived Kyle was more than a little disgusted to find that it was, of all things, a dirty napkin. He was half tempted to throw it away, almost sure that he'd been the victim of what should have been a very obvious scam. But he'd waited so long and he'd fantasized about the possibility so much that he finally held the awful thing in his hands, then tentatively wiped the repulsive thing over his face and mouth, until there was no way that he hadn't been exposed to the virus. He even kept the stupid thing on his desk, intending to expose himself again on the following day, but it had disappeared after breakfast. “Got anything more to throw out up there bud? I’m taking out the trash!” He heard his father ask from downstairs. It was obvious that he had taken it while cleaning. That night, as they were watching an old movie together in the living room, Kyle and his mother heard his father’s stomach growl aggressively. He just smiled and turned to them. “Woah, sorry about that. Must have gotten hungry.” He said, patting his firm, muscular stomach. Which was odd, Kyle thought, because the three of them had just had dinner. After a while his dad got up and got himself a snack from the kitchen. He finished it and went up to get another. After he had finished that, he brought out the leftovers from that night’s dinner and started eating them, staring at the TV. “David,” Kyle’s mother asked, a growing look of concern falling across her face. “Are you alright?” “Oh, I’m fine, don’t worry. I’m just famished.” He smiled at her, and he passed his large hand through his full, thick salt and pepper hair, nervous. Kyle couldn’t help but glance at his father’s large bicep, as it twitched and curled into a firm ball as he brought up his hand to his head. Soon, his father had eaten almost everything in the fridge. His mother was starting to freak out. His father tried to reassure them that everything was fine, he wasn’t even feeling weird, it was just a weird hunger spell. Kyle didn’t want to believe it, but a part of his brain was no longer able to ignore just how tight his father’s clothes were now, so much more so than usual. How it seemed like, no matter how much he pulled his sweatpants down, the cuffs always kept rolling above his ankles, his shirt was riding up more and more. He saw his father eye the canisters of enhanced nutritional formula they had acquired through his dad’s friends as a precaution, never in a million years thinking that they'd ever use them, but feeling that it was better to have them than not. And then it began. His father stood up, and bent over. His stomach growled again, much louder than before. Kyle’s mother jolted up and went to the canisters, opening one up and helping his father drink from it. He gulped it down greedily, tens of thousands of calories sliding down his throat. Then he went for another canister, and then another. They all knew what this meant. At first, Kyle was too stunned, too utterly hurt by the cruel twist of fate to even say a word. He simply stood there, helplessly, as his father grew larger and larger, his cries of panic and dismay at having caught the virus soon muffled by the sounds of relentless, machine-like consumption. Kyle’s mother stared at her husband as he visibly expanded in the living room, his thighs and butt swelling, his pecs growing thicker and wider on his chest, his already huge arms packing on even more corded, hard muscle, and his entire frame growing five or six inches longer. They all had to face the reality of the situation. They were supposed to only get one canister of nutrients per household from the government, but his dad wrangled some of his old friends he knew had access to them into giving them a whole load of canisters, just in case. As she watched her husband gulp down the thick liquid greedily, Kyle’s mother regretted giving them all to him almost at once. They only seemed to make him hungrier, more insatiable, and he gulped down the oddly clear, gelatinous fluid like it was the most incredible thing he'd ever tasted. Her husband’s already enormous cock was also increasing at an alarming rate, although already standing fully erect as he drank, having long ago burst through his sweatpants like they were made of tissue paper, it too just kept growing longer and thicker. She realized, as he took another canister from her, that his forearms alone might have already become larger than even her thighs. She watched his engorged, enormous muscles twitch and twist as he brought the canister up to his height, his bicep curling into a ball the size of her chest. His jaw had become even sharper and more masculine, which she didn’t really know was possible for someone who was already so grizzled, handsome, and manly to begin with. She looked down at his waist. Somehow it remained narrow and tight even on his new titanic frame. Where David had once a solid six pack, now he sported an inhumanly ripped and bulging eight pack and Adonis belt. As she handed her husband yet another of the canisters of formula from the bannister of the staircase, as it was the only way she could match his height now, she was vaguely aware of her poor son screaming and crying from below, obviously distraught at watching his father go through such a horrific ordeal. David felt his son’s increasingly smaller fists pound ever more weakly against first his large, round shoulders, then the side of his growing, thickening chest as he kept gulping down more and more of the nutrients his wife just kept handing to him. His clothes tore and fell in tatters on the floor, he kept feeling the tiny fists impact his large, firm ass, then the side of his growing tree trunk thighs, until he felt the hits of anger, or fear, or whatever it was, just somewhere above his knee against his titanic quads which were already huge before, but by now must have been large enough to fit both his wife and son together to into only one. He must have passed the average 10 foot mark that HIMS men usually reached some time ago, he thought, as he kept on consuming more and more of the nutrients. It had only taken a few hours. A few hours of incredulity, then panic, and finally healthy doses of fear as Kyle's dad continued his seemingly relentless growth. But it was finally over. The three of them all stood there in the living room in awe. In the end, Kyle found himself staring up and up at his father, who had become one of the most enormous, hung, and muscular HIMS men he'd ever seen.
  9. musclelovingtwink

    Addicted

    Chapter 1 When I met Dane, he wasn’t exactly what you’d call normal. Even at that time in his early twenties, he was 6’3” and well over 200 pounds of shredded muscle. We worked out at the same gym. I fit my workouts in around my university schedule, but it seemed like whatever time I went, there he was, dripping with sweat and lifting some ungodly weight. Within the first week of my working out there, he had met my eyes more than once and smiled as he noticed the slack-jawed expression I usually had while I was ogling at his feats of inhuman strength. One Friday night, he stopped in the middle of a set to come right up to me. “You like what you see, man?” he said, flexing an incredible bicep in front of my face for emphasis. It had a perfect split peak and the striations were beautifully visible through his paper-thin skin. “Y-Yeah.” I managed to say. Struggling to tear my eyes away from the immense arm and to look him in the eye. He smiled even wider, showing off a set of perfect, straight, white teeth. Aside from the physique of a god, his jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes made him the absolute picture of beauty. “Good,” he said, “Because I’m gonna be the biggest there ever was.” He stretch out his hand and shook the limp appendage that was my arm. “I’m Dane.” “Lachie.” I replied. What happened next is still a complete haze to me, but the next thing I remember I was in the locker room being fucked senseless by the most perfect Adonis I’d ever seen. Looking past my own face reflected in the mirror as I gripped the sink, I saw the golden god of a man. Like me, his eyes saw nothing but himself. Both his and my gaze raked every shredded inch of his torso. His perfect 8-pack abs crunched with every thrust, beads of sweat rolling over the deep clefts between them. There wasn’t so much as a hint of fat on his whole body, yet his pecs were so thick and so rounded that they hung over the top of his abs, casting a shadow down. In that moment I wished I’d been born a contortionist just so that I could suck the perfect broad nipples that hung below those pecs while he kept fucking me. I felt his hands dig into my sides, knowing bruises would absolutely be there within minutes. The sudden flex telling me he was close to climax. I looked into his face and he spared me the briefest of glances. Sweat dragged his perfect, dark wavy hair down until it just teased in front of his eyes. His lips twisted into a cocky half-grin accentuated by his inhumanly square jaw, and I felt his monstrous cock explode inside me. It truly felt like a bomb going off deep inside me. How one man could hold that much cum inside him seemed impossible, and he didn’t strike me as someone who had dry streaks. He had to take a good step back to pull all 11 inches of still-hard, tremendously thick meat out of me. I slumped onto a nearby bench, absolutely wrecked while he stood for a second still admiring himself in the mirror. The man had just done a workout that would turn the strongest of men to jelly then spent a solid ten minutes ploughing me with the force of a jackhammer and he wasn’t even winded. It only just occurred to me how in the blur of passion I’d let this guy fuck me in the open in a very public bathroom. I was shocked at the lack of interruption, but blushing furiously I realised the amount of noise I’d made had probably warned people not to come in. Hell, it had probably warned people a block away. Still buck naked, Dane strutted past me to open up a locker. God his ass was so huge, round and striated that, had I not been completely devoid of the energy to move, I probably would’ve sunk my teeth in. He swung a leg over the bench I sat on, bearing his still rock-hard cock right in my face. Saying “balls the size of chicken’s eggs” strikes me as cliched, but I’m gonna be honest here, if your chicken was laying eggs this size you’d have your face in a record book. They slung under his cock and just laid out on the bench. “You don’t mind do you?” he asked, and breaking eye contact with his dick (with some effort) I noticed he had a needle and a small vial in his hands. Without waiting for an answer, he drew on the needle and filled it with a clear, faintly pink fluid from the vial before plunging it straight into one of the enormous testicles sitting in front of him. I’m not afraid to say I flinched, a lot. As the plunger of the needle dropped, I swear to god, I watched veins spring up over the surface of the massive ball, and snake their way up the thick shaft. I can’t attest as to whether he was fully hard when he shot up with the strange liquid, but as the veins sprang out from his cock, it definitely throbbed just a little larger. He laughed in that beautiful deep voice. “Sorry about that, but right after is the best time to do it.” He looked at the look of shock and awe on my face and grinned again. “This is some secret shit, real experimental,” he said tapping the vial with a broad finger. “Don’t tell anyone, I wouldn’t want to have to hurt you.” I looked up at him with more shock, and less awe, and he gave me a quick wink. He stood up and turned back to the locker. Once again I was struck, not only by the sheer perfection that was his ass, but also by just how wide his lats were. The man had to be at least three times as wide as me. I noticed the odd protrusion of his veins was still spreading over his form, albeit less intensely than it had at the point of impact. He pulled a pair of white briefs on that struggled to leave anything to the imagination, in fact, the waistband couldn’t match the tightness of his waistline, as his immense cock and balls pulled it forwards. He pulled on some loose gym shorts and an even looser stringer and strutted towards the exit. He turned back at the door, glancing over vein-covered traps to call back to me. “I put my number in your phone, text me.” I looked at the pile on the floor where I’d left my clothes to see my phone sitting neatly on top. Putting aside the fact that it was pin protected, and I hadn’t seen him have any time to do so, I found a new entry in my contacts under “Dane – BF.” I had no idea what the hell had just happened or what I’d got into, so I just pulled my clothes on, and avoiding the stares of everyone in the gym as I made the walk of shame, I headed home to pass out.
  10. musclegin30

    The Estate (Horror Story)

    This is not a feel-good story. There is violence, gore, and death. In honor of Halloween, I decided to write a what is basically a muscle slasher story. So, if you like muscle snuff, this is for you. The first three chapters will come today, so you can start it, since it is on the longer side. The rest will be posted on Halloween. Synopsis: Four friends (Chris, Alex, Danilo, and Niles) are invited to what they hope will be a fun weekend at the family Estate of two of their college acquaintances (Evan and Rupert Glencross). But joy soon turns to horror when the friends discover why the muscular Glencross brothers really invited them. The friends are plunged into a race for their lives as they struggle to escape the estate. “Blood is life. Blood is power.”- Frederick Glencross, 1872 It is said that if a house is old enough, one must assume someone has died in it. So, it stands to reason that the older the house, the more death it has seen. Glencross Manor is 200 years old, and if its blood-stained walls could talk, they would scream... Chapter 1 “I bless the raaains down in Aaafricaaa!” Danilo belted out at the top of his lungs, singing along to the radio. He couldn’t hold a tune if you paid him. Alex told him as much as he turned the car off the main drag and onto a tree-lined side street. “You don’t like my singing?” Danilo asked, grinning toward Alex in the driver’s seat. “Just don’t think of trying out for The Voice,” Niles said from the backseat, briefly looking up from the game on his phone. “The wild dogs cry out in the niiiight!” Danilo sang. “Oh God. It’s so bad,” Alex said, through a laugh. “And your accent is not helping.” Danilo turned around and looked through the space between his seat and the side of the car. “What about you, Chris? Do you think my singing is all that bad, because I think I’m as good as Toto?” Chris stopped staring out the car window and said, “As good as Toto the dog, maybe.” “Ooooh, burn,” Niles said. “My man said you sound like a dog trying to sing.” “You all should hear my Sam Smith,” Danilo announced. “No!” The other’s said in unison, then burst into laughter. Chris turned back to the window and watched the trees whiz by. The sound of his friend’s conversation melted into background static as he entered a near trance-like state. Ever since he was little, he found it easy to space-out on long car rides, lost in the world of his thoughts. He thought it was strange for them to be invited to Glencross Estate. Evan Glencross and his fraternal twin, Rupert, were only casual acquaintances of the group. They were known through mutual friends and had hung out with them no more than twice all of last semester. The Glencross brothers were seniors, while Chris and his friends were Sophomores, and there was very little fraternizing between the years. The brothers were rich, from old money. They lived on an estate for crying out loud. Chris would be shocked if he and his three friends had $400 in all their bank accounts, combined. But the most glaring difference between the brothers and the friends was physical. Evan and Rupert Glencross were huge. They had the kind of comically big muscles that turned heads and made any man jealous. Both were football stars and very popular with the opposite sex. Chris and his friends were four, short, skinny guys who never touched a weight set they hadn’t been required to in PE class. “Why do you think they invited us, seriously?” Chris asked. “Man, you’re still on that?” Niles looked at him and sucked his teeth. “Who cares why? We’re going to be living like rich people for a weekend.” “He’s scared it’s a prank,” Alex said. “It could be,” said Chris. “Evan and Rupert are nice jocks,” Danilo said. “They will not prank us. Besides, they could have done that on campus.” “Yeah man. Just try to enjoy yourself, for a change.” Niles tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey guys, I think that’s it up ahead,” Alex said. “That place is huge and look at that wall around it,” Niles said with awe. “That thing would give Trump a hardon.” “Imagine being so rich you don’t have a fence; you have a fucking wall,” Alex said, shaking his head. Chris looked out the car’s back window. Then out the side windows. Then out the front window. He smiled. “That’s nothing. Imagine being so rich your driveway is a road.” “Huh?” Danilo said, looking confused. “I just noticed it,” Chris said. “There are no turn-offs on this road and no other houses. And look, it leads straight up to the wall. We’ve been on a private road for a while now.” “Oh shit!” Alex said with a laugh. “Why didn’t I make that connection back there. The road we turned on was called Glen Drive. Duh.” “Another thing I notice,” Chris said. “We’re completely isolated out here.” “Oh, there you go again with the paranoia,” Niles said. “If anyone should be nervous, it’s me. I’m the only black guy, and I’ve watched enough movies to know that if the rich white folks are into freaky shit, I’m the first to go.” He laughed. “And yet I’m as calm as can be.” Alex stopped the car in front of the gate, which Alex assumed was 12 feet tall. It was solid metal, painted black, standing in sharp contrast to the pale stone wall it connected to. Chris eyed a box attached to the wall with a beeping red light, various buttons, and what appeared to be a camera lens. “I guess that thing is the intercom,” Alex said, undoing his seatbelt. “I’m going to press-” Before he could finish his sentence, the tall black gates opened, as if pushed by an invisible giant. “Guess not,” Alex said, buckling his seat belt. He drove through the gates and let out a low “fuck me.” Chris’ jaw dropped. Danilo let out a “woah” Niles clapped his hands together and said, Chris had expected big, but Glencross Manor could only be described as palatial, something you would expect from European royalty, not in New England. It was a mountain of marble and brick assembled in the classical form, a testament to excess and wealth. His eyes were immediately drawn to the mammoth portico. Where you would expect to find roman style columns supporting it, instead there were two massive statues in the form of nude, muscular men with their arms stretched high. The men were more heavily muscled than the Farnese Hercules. “Interesting architectural choice,” Chris said, pointing. “And anatomically correct too.” Niles laughed. The driveway ended in a large circle right in front of the house. There was a red Toyota already there, which Alex parked behind. Chris immediately got out of the car and stared up at the statues: solid marble, stunning detail. He didn’t notice Evan and Rupert Glencross had opened the door and were standing at the entrance, until one of them spoke. “What’s up guys?” Rupert said, in a low base. Chris’ eyes immediately fell on the brothers. Both wore shorts, tanks, and sandals, there muscular frames on full display. They took up every inch of space in the doorway, looking like contest ready bodybuilders. “I’m good parking here?” Alex pointed to the car. “Sure thing,” Evan Glencross said, sauntering down the steps, his voice every bit as deep as his brother’s. The friends and the brothers greeted each other with handshakes and bro hugs. Chris couldn’t help but feel an erection growing in his pants, being so close to all that muscle. Muscle that was attached to two handsome faces. He could never get used to their size. When did these guys start working out? When they were three? They were both a little north of 6’ 3’’ and wide as barn doors. Big enough to make Chris and his friends, not one of whom was over 5’ 6’’, feel like children. When Rupert Glencross shook his hand, his fingers nearly disappeared in the mitten like paw, rough with callouses. And the hug! Like grabbing a sack of boulders covered in skin. He couldn’t help but wonder how many kinds of roids these two handsome freaks were taking. “Thanks again for the invite,” Alex said. The others voiced their agreement, and complimented the home. “No problem, guys,” Evan said. “We just hope you’ll enjoy yourselves.” He ran a hand through his brown hair and flashed a set of pearly whites. “We will,” Niles said. “You guys got a pool?” “Two, one indoor and one outdoor,” Rupert said as he and his brother led the friends inside. “But first, you need to meet our father.” “Is he as big as you guys?” Danilo asked, jokingly. Rupert paused and turned. With a slight grin plastered on his handsome alpha male face, mirrored by his brother, he said, “He’s bigger.” Chapter 2 They followed the hulking brothers across white shining tile, down an expansive hallway, framed in wooden arches. “I honestly expected a butler to greet us at the door,” Niles said. Evan turned his torso slightly and glanced back towards Niles. “All the staff are off for the entire weekend,” he said. “Well, there goes my plans of being waited on hand and foot,” Alex said, laughing. “Don’t worry,” Evan Glencross said, “You all will be taken care of.” Chris stared at him, as he spoke. The sentiment was nice: “you all will be taken care off.” But he didn’t like the way he said it. The tone was filled with a false warmth. It was ominous, more a warning than a comfort. Chris shook his head. That was just his paranoia filling his mind with nonsense. This would be a fun weekend and he would enjoy himself. He repeated that silently, like a mantra. “And here we are,” Rupert said after they had walked God knows how far. He gestured ceremoniously to a large sitting room. “Father, the other guests are here.” Other guests? Chris had assumed it was just his friend group who had been invited for the weekend, then he remembered the other car parked out front. They entered the sitting room and the elder Glencross rose from the wingback chair he had been sitting in. Rupert hadn’t been lying when he said their father was ‘bigger’. He was callosal. The largest, most physically impressive human he had ever seen. From the look of awe on his friends faces, he could tell they felt the same way. “Guys, this is our father, Lawrence,” Rupert said. “Father this is Chris, Danilo, Niles, and Alex.” He pointed to each of the friends in turn. Lawrence Glencross stepped toward them and shook their hands, nearly crushing them with his beartrap like grip. He was handsome for a man near fifty, with short brown hair, greying at the sides. He stood a full head taller than his sons and must have weighed at least 100 pounds more. His khaki chinos and navy tee looked painted on to his lean, hulking physique. Chris didn’t understand how the clothes didn’t burst to shreds at the slighted movement. “Pleasure to meet you boys,” Lawrence said in a deep voice. “You’re huge!” Niles exclaimed, unable to hold in his shock. Lawrence and his sons laughed. “I get that a lot,” Lawrence said, casually bouncing his pecs and flexing his arms. “Do you compete in bodybuilding,” Chris asked, his eyes rolling over the mountain of muscle in front of him, briefly pausing to take in the mammoth bulge in the crotch. “Oh, heavens no,” Lawrence waived his hands dismissively. “Glencross men are just big. Always have been.” He gestured to the wall behind him. Chris noticed it was covered with portraits of men in dress clothes. The oldest were paintings. The newest, photographs. “The men of the Glencross line,” Lawrence said, smiling with pride. Each and every one of them was huge. “Amazing,” Danilo said. “Great genetics,” said Niles. “And other things,” Lawrence said with a smile. Chris assumed he meant steroids at first, but they didn’t have steroids over a 100 years ago. “That accent.” Lawrence turned to Danilo. “Somewhere in Eastern Europe?” “Ukraine,” Danilo said. “Ah, very nice,” Lawrence said. “There are a lot of big men over there. But I see you weren’t blessed in that department. None of you were.” The four friends looked at each other, with confused faces. Lawrence’s face was serious when he spoke. The smile he had, had disappeared. “I guess not,” Alex said, finally, with an uneasy smile. “Make a muscle!” Lawrence commanded. “All of you!” The friends each raised an arm and flexed. Lawrence felt each muscle. His hand could wrap all the way around each arm with ease. “So tiny,” he mumbled. “Can any of you fight?” He raised a fist as big as a ham and bought it down with shocking speed, but stopping short. The four friends flinched. Chris thought he might piss his pants. Lawrence turned to his sons and grinned. “You boys didn’t want a challenge this year, I see. They’re as small as the other two.” “Does it matter?” Evan asked, clearly annoyed. The elder Glencross shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. Though, I always found it more fun when they were a bit of a challenge. Oh well. It’s your birthday. You boys do it how you like.” Birthday? “Alex,” Chris whispered, “Did you know it was their birthday?” Alex shook his head. “No.” “I’m a little confused,” Niles said. “What’s going on?” Lawrence smiled. “There’s a game Glencross men can only play on their birthdays. You’ve been invited here to play it. Two other players are already here, taking refreshments out back.” “What kind of game?” Chris eyed him suspiciously. “You’ll see,” Lawrence said, “But first…” He raised a basket. “Put your cell phones in here. The game will test your intelligence so cell phones will allow you to cheat and we can’t have that.” “We’re starting the game now?” Alex asked. “The game started the moment you were invited,” Rupert said. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the phones back, obviously,” He laughed. The friends apprehensively dropped their phones into the basket. “Good!” Lawrence said, setting the basket on a table beside him. “Now boys, show your guests to the back and let the game begin.” Chapter 3 They were led to a large deck, overlooking an expansive back yard. The yard would have been impressive on its own, but it was made more impressive by an expansive hedge row maze the seemed to stretch as far as Chris’ eyes could see, a green sea that must have taken decades to grow. Two other guys were seated at a table on the deck, sipping lemonade and eating from a tray of finger sandwiches. Chris thought he might have seen them around campus before, but didn’t know them. “This is Jeremy,” Evan pointed to an Asian guy on the left, “and this is Mike,” he pointed to a white guy on the right. Both were short and skinny like Chris and his friends. Just what kind of game were they going to play? Chris thought it odd that not a single one of the Glencross’ jock friends was present on their supposed birthday. He expected them to have countless tall, over-muscled buddies to fraternize with. Instead, they choose to hang out with 6 skinny dweebs? Evan introduced the four friend’s and the handshakes started. “Nice to meet you,” Jeremy said, extending his hand toward Chris. “I’ve seen you in the student Union. You’re in the Culinary Club, right.” “I thought I’ve seen you around,” Chris said. “Yeah, I’m in the culinary club.” “Cool.” “While you guys get more acquainted me and my bro are gonna go get ready,” Rupert said. “Help yourselves to the food and drinks.” “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Alex stepped over and took a finger sandwich. Niles and Danilo followed. The brothers stepped back into the house, grinning at each other like they were sharing a silent joke. “So, are you guys good friends with Even and Rupert?” Mike asked. “Not really,” Chris said. “More, acquaintances.” “Weird,” Mike replied, picking up a sandwich. “Neither are we. We just know them casually through a friend of a friend. I was honestly surprised to get an invite.” “Yeah,” Jeremy said, with a mouthful, “But who could pass-up a chance to spend a weekend in a place like this, for free.” He gestured to the estate. “Right,” Danilo nodded, stuffing his mouth. “Father’s a little weird, though,” Alex whispered, stifling a laugh. Everyone nodded their agreement. “Did he comment on your size, too?” Chris asked Jeremy. “Yeah, it was weird.” He frowned slightly. “Like, dude, I get it, you’re huge, but not all of us can be a giant.” “Oh shit,” Mike said, nearly choking. He glanced up and Chris followed his gaze, as did the others. Lawrence Glencross was standing in the window overlooking the deck, staring at them, expressionless. When he saw them looking, he closed the curtain and disappeared behind a panel of white. The group shared a look, then burst into laughter. All except Chris, who merely smiled nervously. “Hey guys!” A deep voice boomed behind them. The group turned away from the table of refreshments to find Evan and Rupert bounding out the door. Chris’ eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he saw what the twins were wearing: skimpy black posing trunks that struggled to contain their massive packages, and nothing else. Every inch of their huge, muscular bodies was exposed, each muscle group bouncing and flexing as they walked across the deck. “What. The. Fuck?” Alex said. Everyone’s mouth was agape. “Oh shit, the white people are into some freaky shit. I’m screwed.” Niles mumbled beneath his breath, just loud enough for the group to hear, but not the Twins. The Glencross brothers beamed, grinning like clowns, obviously enjoying the reaction their insanely developed physiques were getting from the skinny guys assembled before them. They bounced their bulbous pecs and hit a few poses. Chris could feel his cock stiffening again. He adjusted it discretely and noticed others in the group were doing the same. How could you not get hard when witnessing such a display of the perfect male form. The twins were enjoying themselves as well, sporting bulges that threatened to pop their skimpy posers right off. “We’re so big, bro,” Evan said. “Yeah.” Rupert grunted, flexing harder. “And we’re gonna get bigger.” “So big.” Evan slapped his brother’s delt. “Yeah! So fucking big!” Chris saw a wet spot forming in Rupert’s posers. Was he leaking pre-cum? Was he getting that turned on by his and his brother’s size? What the fuck was going on? And why were they invited? “This is weird,” Danilo whispered. “Agreed,” Chris said, his eyes fixed on the rippling mounds of muscle before him. The brothers were lost in a trance like state, of flexing and grunting, loudly expressing their desire for more size, and getting more turned on as they did it. They flexed so hard, they began to sweat in the late morning sun. One would slap the other and then vice versa. They were getting themselves worked up, pumped for something. And then it was over. The brothers faced the group, grinning and panting, skin red and glistening. “You ready to start the game?” Rupert looked over them. “What’s the game?” Mike asked. “And why are you dressed like that?” Alex gestured to their pumped-up bodies. “And most importantly, what did we just watch?” Niles said, shaking his head, a hardon visible in his pants. The brothers looked at each other and laughed. “The game is called ‘You vs Our Muscles,’” Evan said. “It used to be played in the house, a long time ago, but the maze was put in 50 years ago and it’s been played outside ever since. The maze starts here at the deck and exits all the way over there, by the woods. As you can see, there’s no way around the house from this point. The only place to go is through the maze. The object of the game is to make it through the maze without getting caught by me or my brother. We’re dressed like this because clothing would get way to constrictive-” “And we don’t want to get our clothes dirty,” Rupert chimed in. Evan nodded, “Yeah, that too. This game gets messy. What you just saw was us getting hyped up to win.” He made a fist and slapped it into his other hand. “Understand.” The group stared at each other, a little confused. It sounded simple enough, but it was still so strange. “it’s like a fancy game of tag,” Mike said. “What happens if you catch one of us?” “You versus our muscles, happens,” Even said. “Mike, you come here, and we’ll show you guys. The rest of you stand by the entrance to the maze and be ready to start.” Everyone did as commanded by the muscle-god brother. Chris stood dead center in the middle of the five by the maze entrance, staring up at the deck. Mike stood in front of the brothers, looking like a child compared to them. Their arms were as thick as his legs. Their pecs, as big as his head. His twig like body looked frail in comparison to the towering twins. “If this is a test of strength, I think you guys are going to win.” Mike laughed. “Just stand still and shut up,” Even said, grabbing hold of Mike’s left arm. Rupert took his right. The brothers then placed a hand on each side of Mikes head, with their thumbs locked under his chin. Their comically huge hands each covered a whole side of his skull. “High five, bro,” Evan said. “High five.” Rupert grinned. Chris watched as the brother’s arms tensed. Muscle striations appeared through the skin; veins popped out in high relief. Mike’s feet left the ground. Up, up, up. Two feet in the air. He kicked and flayed, as the skin on his face wrinkled, smooshing together. “Guys, this… hurts, aah,” Mike struggled to say through gritted teeth. “What are you doing!” Jeremy shouted. “Holy shit!” Danilo backed away. Niles and Alex stared on with equal parts confusion and revulsion. Mike’s little body shook, struggling to fight against the towers of muscle holding him, but his arms were locked. He could only kick air. He let out grunts of pain, followed by an agonizing scream as the brother’s press harder on his skull, their muscles rippling with power. “This isn’t cool!” Alex shouted. “You’ll kill him!” Jeremy darted up the stairs. Chris reached out, trying to grab him, fearing what would happen, but he was to slow. Jeremy made it to the top of the stairs but took a kick to the torso from Rupert’s massive foot. He flew back and landed in Alex and Chris’ arms. Jeremy panted, struggling to reclaim the air that had been knocked out of him. Then Chris heard it. The crunch. Mikes skull cracked. He watched blood poor from his friend’s eyes, nose, and mouth. Mike went silent, His face, now disfigured, and brain, squished in. “High five!” The brothers exclaimed in unison as Mikes eyes bulged from his head and his skull completely gave way, popping like a stepped-on grape. His skinny body went limp as the brothers were given a blood shower by Mike’s spurting arteries. Their hands were pressed together, up in the air, covered in bone, blood, brains, and Mike’s skin. They lowered their arms and looked down at the five skinny guys, cowering in fear and shock. Chris’ eyes grew wide as saucers. His jaw went slack. No fucking way, he thought as he watched the blood on the brother’s bodies disappear, absorbed into their skin. And the growth…They were growing! Evan and Rupert moaned in pleasure, their bodies shaking, as they swelled, muscles getting more developed and veinier. “Each time we kill, we grow,” Rupert said, as the now more massive brothers stepped slowly towards them. “But only on our birthdays.” Evan said. “That’s the secret of Glencross men.” “But, we like the thrill of the hunt,” Rupert said, with a sadistic smile, “So run! Run for your pathetic little lives. We’re giving you a head start.” He raised his arms and flexed; the muscles of his arms looked like it might burst through his skin. “All this muscle is coming for you.” The group scampered into the maze. Danilo fell to his knees and wretched, but Alex grabbed his arm, dragging him along, leaving a trail of throw-up in his wake. “We should fight them!” Jeremy shouted, and Chris pushed him forward. “Not without a plan,” Chris said. As he moved through the walls of green, Chris heard a faint deep voice call behind them. He couldn’t make out what had been said, or even which brother had said it, but it didn’t matter. His focus was ahead, toward the end of the maze, toward survival.
  11. The Centre - Part One Ben wasn’t quite sure how he found the video on YouTube. He had gotten home from the pub feeling slightly pissed and lonely, and had just collapsed on his sofa. Bored, he began first scrolling through Instagram but the incredible lives of the muscular and tanned influencers that he followed just made him even more depressed, so he closed that app and proceeded to open YouTube. Scrolling through the videos that were in his feed, he was surprised to see one suggested titled: Explicit Penis Growth. Lord, he thought, people will do anything for attention nowadays! Curious and forever reminded of his own unremarkable four inch penis, Ben clicked PLAY. The video started with what sounded like an original composition of some extremely dramatic music played on an old electric keyboard. Over the music was the text: Walter Bowen of The Centre Presents Explicit Messaging For Male Penis Enhancement Copyright: 2021 MALE penis enhancement, thought Ben. Who else would it be for?? As the music faded the face of an older man, probably in his late forties, early fifties appeared on the screen. Professionally dressed in a dark blue suit and paisley tie, the man was sitting at a paper-strewn desk and staring intently into the camera. When he did eventually speak, it was slow, calm, and direct. WB: Good Morning , Good Afternoon, or Good Evening. My name is Walter Bowen of The Centre, and you are currently viewing my video: Explicit Messaging for Male Penis Enhancement. Please note that viewing this video WILL cause irreversible and permanent changes to your male anatomy. If you do not wish to experience these changes to your person, I recommend you stop this video immediately. I will now give you several seconds to do so if you wish. The man paused speaking, but continued to look directly into the camera. Damn, he’s intense, noted Ben, and a brilliant actor. You’d think he really believes his own pitch! Twenty seconds later, Walter Bowen began speaking again. WB: Your decision to continue viewing this video waves the creator of any responsibility that occurs due to the material. If you are being forced to watch this video, you will need to take your complaint up with the proper authorities. Now that we have all of that out of the way, let’s begin. Throughout the course of this video… a video that will no doubt change your life, you WILL listen and follow my instructions. Only through the following will you be able to become one with The Centre and achieve the results you are seeking. Now, quickly remove your trousers and undergarments, fold them properly, and place them aside. Ben hesitated for a few seconds, but then decided to follow Walter’s instructions. What else did he have to loose, and when you’re alone on a Saturday night, anything different is better than nothing at all. Removing his jeans, he quickly wadded them into a ball and tossed them onto a chair. He then proceeded to do the same with his boxer briefs. WB: Good. Very good. Being able to follow instructions will be paramount to your success. Now, close your eyes and listen carefully to my voice and only my voice. Closing his eyes, Ben leaned his head onto the back of the sofa. WB: Excellent. Remember, you must listen to the sound of my voice and only the sound of my voice. Wonderful. I already feel that we make a great team. We will go far together on this adventure. Now, I would like you to breath in and out… in and out. Take a deep breath… hold it for 5 counts… and breathe out. Again… breathe in… hold for 5… and breathe out. One more time, breathe in… hold for 5 counts… and breathe out. Very well done. Now, begin to focus on your penis. Picture it in your head. Mentally draw a picture of it with your mind. Is it soft or hard? Fat or thin? Cut or uncut? Picture your penis and hold it in your mind's eye. The penis, the one you are seeing with your Minds Eye, is the most powerful organ of your entire body. This is where you must draw your strength from… your courage. Your penis is your umbilical cord into The Centre… the centre of this and to every universe in existence. Acknowledging such a powerful connection is paramount, as is treating your penis as the deity it is. Perhaps though, when you look at your own penis, you only see it through a societal gaze. You see it as not big enough… not hard enough… not girthy enough… not powerful enough… not MANLY enough. This is the curse society has placed on us. How can you compete with the phalluses of porn stars… actors… politicians… or the lucky few whose genes enabled them to grow organs of a suitable size for society. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Your penis IS powerful… your penis IS a deity. Your penis IS the centre of the Universe. Repeat after me. My penis is powerful. Ben remained quiet, but, as if the voice knew of his silence, it spoke again. WB: You heard me and you WILL repeat after me! My penis is powerful. This time Ben spoke up. “My penis is powerful.” WB: Good. My penis is a deity. “My penis is a deity. WB: Excellent!! My penis is The Centre! “My penis is the centre!!!!” Ben couldn’t believe how orgasmic it felt to say that out loud, but as soon as he did, he could feel his penis start to stiffen. WB: Good work. The sense of pride you must have felt as you said those words out loud for the first time can be overwhelming. Pouring out your soul so honestly deserves a reward. Touch your penis. Go on. Take your hand and wrap it around the hard shaft. Ben did as he was told and felt a shiver run through him as his palm met the soft skin of his own penis. WB: what you feel as you slowly touch yourself, that is the feeling of power and energy running through your penis from The Centre. Do you feel it? “Yes.” WB: turn it up a notch. Feel it running up and down the shaft, into the glans, and back down into your testicles. This pattern is repeated over and over again, slowly becoming more intense. It feels as if a current is connected from your penis to what you were always meant to be. Yes, Ben thought, as a drop of pre fell from the slit in his head and down the shaft. I can really feel it… it almost… almost burns…. His cock felt so hard and so sensitive at the moment that he wanted to open his eyes and witness something he had never seen it felt before, but he didn’t since Walter hadn’t said that he could. WB: Your penis is now the centre of every Universe, and you are feeling the power that is at your command. Feel it tearing through your testicles, up and around the shaft, and explode into the thickness of your gland. Welcome more and more power into your penis… More pre began to flow from Ben’s cock as he welcomed the power… willed it to enter him. WB: Yes. Let it fill you. Let it over power you! Let it take you over! Every molecule… every atom of your penis is at your command! Command it to grow! Grow!! WB: Command it to swell!! Swell!! WB: command it to become the penis it was always meant to be!! My cock deserves to be massive!! I deserve to be massive!! WB: Yes!! Embrace your destiny!! Can you feel it? Can you feel each atom… each molecule… every cell in the shaft of your penis are beginning to replicate. Over and over and over you feel this as your shaft slowly begins to swell. Ben’s whole body began to sweat as he felt the exact sensation in his penis the voice was describing. He could feel each cell in the shaft of his penis replicating until he felt it push at his palm, forcing his hand to open slightly. A huge grin formed on Ben’s face as he let out a moan of pleasure. WB: you must be wondering, is this real? How can this possibly be happening? Is this only my imagination playing a trick on me? The answer is a definitive, No! What you feel is your own penis filling more and more with blood, forcing it to become thicker and more substantial. Each beat of your heart forces your organ to become more and more engorged… more and more the centre of your very being. Speak to me. Tell me how you feel. “This feels so damn amazing! There aren’t words to describe it. I don’t ever want it to stop! WB: Your own voice, your own will causes your cock to thicken further. Feel it pulse in your hand as it becomes more and more immense. More and more the organ of one of the chosen few. Your hand. You can feel your thumb and forefinger separating further and further and further away from each other. You feel as if your cock is a balloon and an invisible aly is filling it more and more with water. Now as you slowly stroke your cock, it no longer feels familiar. It now feels like a new and powerful entity ready to take control! The skin is so tight… the shaft is so substantial… this is a penis that will stretch every condom that you put on... stretch every vagina… stretch every hole. Fuck me… feels so fat now… so solid! WB: As each inch continues to swell, you begin to feel another sensation taking over your penis. At the base, you feel a tug… a pull… a yanking that starts to give you the impression that an invisible force is trying to tear your penis from your body. Not so! This force is acting as a catalyst to your legacy of those who have been chosen for an immense future. Ben grit his teeth as he felt the pull on his penis get more intense by the minute. He longed to open his eyes and witness his cock’s metamorphosis, to feast his eyes on the epic piece of flesh that was being reborn on his body. He refused though to succumb to the temptation. What if opening his eyes reversed whatever was happening to his cock! What if opening his eyes cut the connection between his cock and this cosmic power source? Worst of all, what if opening his eyes proved that this entire experience was all in his head? A forceful tug at his cock elicited a guttural groan and reassured him to keep his eyes closed. WB: Feel your penis pulse, pull, and throb as it takes on new proportions. Soon… very soon… what you once possessed will be a distant memory and you will have obtained an organ to shout from the mountain tops over. Feel the weight as it pulls down in your crotch. Did you ever imagine that your own penis could be this heavy? You took for granted that your sec organs felt like they weighed nothing… but not anymore. Without support it will always pull down, reminding you of the power you possess. Feel as it thickens further in your hand. How does it feel? How would you describe it? Like a fuckin Coke can!! My cock feels as thick as a Coke can!!! WB: Do you feel the veins growing larger and erupting to the surface to better feed your new centre of gravity? Yes!! Yes I do! Veins feel more like tubing than ever before. WB: Experience the tug and tension and contraction as your penis forces itself longer. At first it’s only a hair longer… not noticeable at all… but from a hair… a millimetre longer… and longer… and LONGER… until, as you stroke, you feel yourself covering more surface area than ever before. It does feel longer!! My cock’s growing longer!! I can’t believe it!! WB: An intense erotic sensation fills your entire being as your shaft grows an extra inch longer. Your body shivers and quakes as a new emotion grips you. Your heart starts to race… your skin becomes more sensitive to a touch… your nerve endings explode with fire! What can be causing these new responses? Let us explore. Turn your mind's eye away from your burgeoning penal monument to the true centre of your power… your testicles. Experience the throbbing as they too begin to swell larger. Feel your testosterone levels rise as they emit wave after wave of transformative energy. Ben began to pant faster as his heart sped up. He could feel his balls actually swelling larger, feel them taking up more and more space between his legs. Moving his hands from his shaft to his balls, he discovered that what had once been olive sized were now roughly the diameter of chicken eggs… and still they pulsated with life… WB: As your testicles proceed to swell, you can feel a mechanism deep inside of you begin to spark and come to life. Do you feel it? Do you feel your testicles starting to produce more and more life giving essence? Soon your testicles are so full… so heavy… it actually begins to hurt. Ben groaned as he felt his testicles swell larger, each one filled with what felt like gallons of cum. Suddenly, he held his breath as he felt movement coming from his balls, up the shaft, and out of the slit. More precum than he had ever produced before came pouring out in what seemed like an endless deluge. WB: The energy flowing from The Centre, into your penis, and out into the world must feel to you, a mind altering experience. You will do anything to relive this event over and over again: feeling your penis swell with might… the shaft stretching to mighty proportions… even the glans… the tip of your penis flaring larger and meatier; rivaling the shaft in terms of thickness and becoming the most sensitive area of your being! Each second brings you closer to the brink as your penis rises with life. Soon you can’t help yourself, and you begin to stroke your penis. Ben couldn't and wouldn’t deny himself this pleasure, and when he touched his enlarged shaft again, he moaned louder than he ever had before. His cock… his entire cock was burning with heat, pulsating thicker, stretching so much longer, and becoming more sensitive than it had ever been in his entire life. Ben laughed out loud as he began, at first, slowly moving his hand up and down the shaft, but with time, began to jerk it with more and more intensity. He simply couldn't stop… mustn’t stop! He finally felt connected to his true power source. WB: All energy comes from The Centre, into your body, and deposits itself into your crotch. Repeat!! All energy comes from The Centre, into your body, and deposits itself into your crotch. Repeat!! All energy comes from The Centre, into your body, and deposits itself into my crotch!! As Ben’s voice merged with the other, their fervor became paramount. Over and over again the litany was chanted, until both voices spoke as one. Grabbing and jerking his cock with such intensity, Ben could feel the entire thing growing all at once. His mania grew until he was bucking his hips up into the air and fucking his own hand. From his balls he felt a mounting pressure beginning to build. Harder and harder he jerked his cock while focusing on the words he was saying until suddenly he was one with The Centre. It was as if time simply stopped as a massive surge of energy shot through him causing his body to spasm. Letting go of his own cock, Ben felt his entire body fill with more and more power until it finally burst from him. Ben cried out as cum began to be fired from his cock over and over. He could feel the heat as it landed on his chest, his face, and beyond. Grabbing onto his cock, he was surprised how strong and hard it felt, and how extremely powerful each spurt was. Eventually, after ten or eleven ropes of cum being fired from his cock, it began to subside. Catching his breath, Ben caugh the closing words of the sponsor. WB: Congratulations on successfully tapping into The Centre. All power begins at The Centre and ends in you, transforming yourself into your ideal. We shall meet again soon. Until then… Another bolt of energy shot through Ben and he suddenly ejaculated one last time. As he did, his eyes flew open and he was able to see his cock for the first time. Staring unbelievably at the size of the beast he now possessed, Ben nearly burst into tears. It was truly a work of art. Thicker than a beer can with an even larger mushroom tip, the entire thing had to be larger than eight inches. Jumping up from the couch, he ran to grab a tape measure, cum dripping from his body onto the floor. When he stood, his initial centre of gravity was thrown off. His cock and balls pulled at him as their weight weighed him down. I never thought of balls being heavy… but now mine certainly are!! He loved the weight, the mass, the pull of his cock and balls toward the floor. It was simply an erotic feeling only a select few got to feel… and now he was one of them. Measuring the length, Ben gasped. 8.5 inches! His cock had grown to be 8.5 inches. That means he grew over four and a half inches while simply listening to a YouTube video. Moving his exhausted body back to the couch, Ben thought about The Centre. If he could truly tap into what felt like an endless source of power, he could indeed transform himself into his ideal, exactly as the voice said. Grabbing his severely cum coated phone, he turned it on and opened the YouTube app. There, frozen, was the face of the man who had given him the greatest gift he had ever received. Pressing the screen, the video started over. Quickly, Ben pressed pause. Should he listen to it again? Would it work again? If so… how far would he go. How massive did he want to be? Pressing Play, Ben grinned as the music began. He will do it once more tonight… as an experiment. Then he would stop until tomorrow; until he had time to think his actions through. One thing he did know, he needed to learn how to control The Centre by himself. He needed to find the man behind the voice.
  12. Hey guys, I've decided to try and make my first muscle growth comic "Overdosed". Pages 1 - 2 are done. Let me know what you guys think Follow me on Twitter if you guys wanna see more: https://twitter.com/GDSMuscleFreaks
  13. My very first try on a muscle growth story. I really hope you like it! English is not my native language, so please be appreciative. And if you have any adivce or correction, just dm me! Summary: Manly a "Spartacus" fanfiction without Spartacus or any other know character. Just men in ancient rom in pretty much less clothing, fighting, growing and more. The first chapter is with little growth, just setting the stage. Chapter 1 Day of decision Sextus Barbatius Ennecus stood on his balcony on the top floor of his villa "Ludi Crescita" and looked at the training ground below him with mixed feelings. His last two gladiators were training with their instructor Narcissus. The owner of the Ludi, the gladiator school, sighed and thought about when exactly his decline had begun. More and more fights his gladiators were losing and they were dying off like flies. Of course, this was the daily routine in this kind of fights - but people wanted to be entertained. Exciting duels and an epic finale. But neither could his fighters deliver. So he could participate in fewer and fewer events, gained no money, could not buy new fighters and so the spiral went slowly but inexorably down. Socially it destroyed him as well as financially. His wife disappeared in one night with their common son. The heir who was to take over all this. But... what was it exactly? He had already inherited the "Ludi" from his father and now wondered if he never really had his father's skills? His eye for a man's abilities may never have been as good as he had hoped. A clearing of his throat snapped him out of his dark thoughts and the gaze of his blue eyes turned to Narcissus. The Hispania had been bequeathed to him by his father. He had been the most successful gladiator of that school in his time and then appointed to train the new fighters. Although he had not been in the arena for a long time and the ravages of time were also gnawing at him, Narcissus was always the epitome of strength. At 6’2 and well over 220lbs, he impressed every new slave and you just wanted to obey him. The sweat after his early morning workout made his tanned skin sparkle and glisten. "Magister. A word?" the instructor asked and with a slightly lowered gaze. A nod followed and while Sextus left the balcony, Narcissus entered the building. The two fighters outside sought out the shade and drank the little water that was provided. Sexuts approached the man and although he had the money, the prestige and the power, he always felt small around his closest confidant. The "Magister" had been too much affected by the years of prosperity. Literally. A fat belly bulged outward from his tunic and his arms, as well as his double chin, wobbled slightly as he descended the stairs. "What's up?" he wanted to know, looking at the symmetrical face of Narcissus. "These two... won't survive the day, Magister." No information that was really new to the owner of the school. "That's not going to happen. It SHOULDN'T happen. Do you realize what will happen if they don't?" Sextus was in danger of losing his temper in front of his slave and reminded himself to be careful. He could not show weakness. He cleared his throat and declared, "If they lose, you are useless to me. And if you're useless to me..." he left the threat hanging, feeling incredibly idiotic himself. The Hispania was a close confidant, an advisor who always stood by him. And physically he was so much superior to him that the threat seemed almost ridiculous and desperate. Narcissus knew better, though, and just nodded. "I will remind them again of the importance, Magister." The muscleman bowed and went outside. By the evening of that same day, it was clear. Sextus had lost everything. His last two gladiators dead. His reputation had been dragged through the mud once again. He was a laughingstock. Wife and son lost. What was left for him? The prayer The cliff where the Magister de Ludi Crescita stood went steeply down and ended in the sea, which broke several times on the rough rock formation. Despite the dim light, the waves and sharp stones were clearly visible. So this was how it was going to end for him? In his last act of pure despair, he knelt down, folded his hands and spoke to heaven: "Gods! Give me a sign! Give me insight! Give me a reason to go on living! Give me a sign and I swear I will become your faithful servant!" The sky did not crack. The earth did not shake. No golden light followed. It simply remained silent. But what had Sextus been thinking? Gods... "Get up!" commanded a voice so deep that the ground almost trembled, and the authority that lay within it could not be countered. Sextus stood up as and turned around to make out the source of this male bass. What he saw made him travel his eyes wide, and almost at the same moment sink back to the ground. "A befitting stance, little human." the voice continued to speak and Sextus looked up again to take a closer look at this god. The man was around ten feet tall and of handsome build. A six-pack on an impossibly narrow waist with beautiful Apollo belt led into two thighs the circumference of which would probably correspond to the current abdominal girth of Sextus. The chest was peppered with fine hair and each of the muscles was as big as a pillow. The arms, strong and full of veins could crush anything and everything and the shoulders explained why the giant wore only a simple toga around his hips. The face.... The face was out of this world. Symmetrical. Masculine. Angular. Intimidating, yet inviting. The god's eyes rested on Sextus, sparkling an unnatural red. "Mars...god of war. You shame me with your presence." he interrupted his admiration. "I heard your prayer and offer you a bargain that is in both our interests. I have chosen a new champion," Mars announced, and it was clear to everyone that he had fucked a mortal and created a demigod. "He needs to be trained. I will send him to you, you will train him, and in a year you will send him on the journey to Alexandria. In return, your fighters will always be victorious and receive a touch of my power. Do you consent?" Who was he to bargain and haggle with a god. "But what...if he loses and dies?", Sextus mused. The giant laughed uproariously, and in the distance birds took off in fright into the night sky. "You amuse me, little man. Mind your tongue." Mars paused briefly and considered further. "You seem to lack faith. Let me prove it to you and in return, you will receive another task from me. In a year, when you let my champion go, you will build me a temple in your estate. A shrine and swear that each of your gladiators will become a follower of Mars. Declare your devotion to me. To war. To passion in battle. To bloodshed." What did Sextus have to lose? He nodded and spoke humbly, "As you wish, Mars. God of war.“ The new recruit "We have... visitors, Magister," Narcissus explained uncertainly. After yesterday's defeat, he was unsure how his lord and master would react, and then to have a visitor at the door. It was a rarity, but the master nodded with a thoughtful expression. "Invite him in and show him to the reception hall. The Hispania nodded and walked back to the large, locked main gate. In front of it stood a boy. No more than 19 years old of slight build. Clothes hung too large from narrow shoulders and a simple sack was probably all the possessions the boy carried. As instructed, Narcissus led the youth into the reception hall where his Magister was already waiting. The Hispania would never dare to say it openly, but Sextus was not a good master. Neither did he know anything about fighting, nor did he have much experience in running this school. His father had died too quickly, leading to the decline of this school. Sitting wide-legged so that there was room for his ever-expanding belly, he eyed the mismatched pair. Narcissus was twice the man this boy was. "What's your name?" asked Sextus straight out. Hesitantly, the slightly too high voice answered, "Eroticus Prisca, my lord." The look of the master continued to be uninterpretable. "And what brings you here, boy?" he continued to ask. Again hesitating and uncertain, the boy answered, "An... an inner voice, my lord. I want to fight. I want to become strong. My whole existence cries out to prove myself. I want to prove myself. Become a hero." Narcissus had to control himself not to smile. The boy had balls. You had to give him that. "Undress, boy." demanded Sextus, and with a now blushing face, Eroticus disrobed. Revealed beneath the flowing tunic was a picture of misery. The boy must have traveled long. The body was scrawny and seemed to break like a twig in the wind. He had no chest to speak of, his arms were without definition and his stomach showed the malnutrition of what must have been a long journey. The boy's privates showed a few hairs, but the penis was also of small growth and the testicles were small. He was already preparing to escort him back outside when his master addressed him. "Narcissus. He gets one of the free chambers in the training camp. You guys train him. There's a new tournament scheduled in four weeks. I want to see him ready for action. Maybe the training and the fight will bring you honor, glory and a little chest hair. You have a year to prove yourself. Otherwise, you'll end up in the gutter." The expression of pure incomprehension was on the teacher's face. Sextus could not be serious. Not only was he delivering this boy to the slaughter, but he was further ruining the already desolate reputation of this school. Maybe he was actually crazy? But Narcissus was too much of a slave to voice a concern aloud. He nodded and repeated, "In four weeks, the boy will be ready to fight victoriously or die honorably." Whereas the latter was more likely after all. The Hispania had seen a lot in his 30 years. From Spain he emigrated with his father to Italy to find his fortune there. When his father died, leaving behind a 15-year-old, awkward son, Narcissus quickly went off the rails. It didn't surprise him that he was sold to this house as a slave at the age of 16. But it was the best thing that could have happened to him. His mind had a task. His body exercise. His whole existence had a purpose. In the now 22-plus years he had served the school, the man's brown eyes had seen much. Agile and nimble fighters. Technically proficient fighters. Muscle-bound war beasts. But Eroticus was something entirely new. He fought with the speed of a flying arrow and the determination of a raging torrent. Narcissus was not convinced by this action, but the longer he trained the man, the more he saw in him a fighter who could perhaps save this house. The energy that the youth displayed was unparalleled, and this despite the fact that the sun in may was already merciless. The physical transformation of the boy was also... interesting. With a speed unknown to Narcissus, the boy seemed to grow. The thin little arms showed signs of biceps. The legs grew stronger from run to run. The belly was adorned with four bulges after only a week, thanks to training and now regular eating. Maybe, just maybe, Narcissus thought to himself, the Lord had seen more in him than anyone wanted to think. After three weeks, Sextus ordered his confidant to his office. The Magister was busy with various traders, bookmakers and betting offices. He seemed so sure of victory. Did the lord perhaps know more than he wanted to admit? "How is he doing, Narcissus? What does your experience tell you." The Hispania thought for a moment and then spoke quietly, "I cannot tell you what my experience tells me, Lord. For I have never had such an experience." Wondering what this cryptic statement meant, Sextus prompted to continue speaking. "He is a quick learner. He understands quickly. He's good at assessing combat situations. I haven't come across his fighting style yet. He is quick, but there is such power and precision in his strikes. I would cautiously like to think he might have a good chance..." The Magister listened and continued to look at Narcissus. "So what? It sounds like you have something else to say." The slave was undecided whether to mention this at all. Sextus would see it either way, though. "Its...growth, sir. I have seen many men here. But his growth seems extraordinary." Incomprehension spread through Sextus' gaze. "His... fighting growth? Get specific, by the gods!" he commanded, and Narcissus replied, "Let me show you." A short time later, the Hispania entered the room again with a person almost unknown to Sextus. The boy was no longer a boy. He had the youthful features of a 17 year old in his face, but the body was steeled. His shoulders were broader, his legs strong and defined, and veins ran down his arms over his small biceps. He was far from a physical competitor to Narcissus. But the progress in just three weeks was tremendous. The six pack was defined and the breathing was still fast and excited. Eroticus had been working out and sweat glistened on his tanned skin as the scent filled the small room. His gaze continued to be directed downward. "Ah. It seems to me that you have found your purpose, Eroticus?" The boy, or rather... the young man nodded. "Yes sir. Have thanks for your trust." Sextus was surprised again. The boy's voice had deepened as well. But with the memory of that bass of his father, this was close. "You may both go." he ordered, waiting quietly until his two servants had left the office. Only then did a smile of victory steal onto the man's lips.
  14. EBFs and SIZE FREAKS BY LORUS (formerly JP71) Haven’t written in years. Thought I was done with this. Deleted every other story I wrote. But then this happened. If I get enough positive feedback, I’ll do another chapter. Enjoy. Lee loved working at Aldersons Supermarket. Although the pay wasn't as much as he'd gotten from his previous employer, it had its perks. He didn't have to get two buses there and back, as the supermarket was just a ten minute walk from his flat. The staff were fun to be around, and his boss Eugene was extremely nice to his staff, especially to Lee, as they were both openly gay and sometimes had drinks after work at a popular gay bar called Shirtlifters. But the best perk of all came from the fact that Aldersons was across the street from Gridiron Gym. It was a hard-core gym for genetically super-gifted bodybuilders. Lee was 20 years old but puberty had declined to give him much meat on his bones. He had a lanky, slim build, weighing just 135 pounds despite his six feet of height. But this never bothered him, as he was very good looking, even with glasses, and had no problem hooking up with other twinks. Lee had obsessed over huge muscle-men since early adolescence, when thumbing through bodybuilding magazines, many of which were now ruined by cum-sodden fingers and lots of drool. When he got a computer for his 16th birthday, the internet satisfied his muscle lust to a greater degree. He tried bodybuilding himself when he got a gym membership, but he lacked the discipline necessary to make it habitual. But he liked swimming and cycling, and this way he kept fit but very slender. He wished he had a bodybuilder for a boyfriend, and a fair few bodybuilders were regulars at the supermarket, which, naturally, stocked bodybuilding supplements and even some clothing for working out. To Lee's dismay the bodybuilders using Gridiron Gym all seemed straight, and most of them would be seen getting regular groceries with their girlfriends or wives and kids. Still, you had to be at least 280 pounds to get a membership there. As a result the bodybuilders shopping at Aldersons were very big indeed, so Lee got to at least commit them to memory for wanking about them later on when he was at home. An obsession with huge bodybuilders wasn't the only fetish of Lee's. His other fetish was for trashed denim jeans. He especially loved jeans that had exposed button-flies down the front, but not the women's kind which were so common. He loved to see men wearing them. But they were very uncommon with guys, so Lee and his boss Eugene came up with a plan to change that. Some of the mens work pants as the standard uniform at Aldersons came with an exposed button-fly front, but it was optional. Lee and Eugene wore them all the time, but a new recruit that Lee was given to train in on the register also opted for the exposed button-fly version of the dark navy work pants. Sam was extremely cute, blonde haired, and with blue eyes and dimples. He had envious olive skin and the cutest smile. He was a little overweight at just five feet six inches tall, but the chubbiness suited him, and within a week Lee and Sam were good friends. It was hard to gauge if Sam was gay, although his liking for the same pants that Lee was into suggested he might swing that way. One sunny day in June was a dream come true for Lee Fordham. His shift was about to end and the bodybuilders coming to shop at the supermarket were wearing very little, taking advantage of the warm weather to show-off as much of their musculature as possible, and Lee had had a boner for most of the day, inhaling their sweaty muscle-musk and swooning as the bigger bodybuilders struggled to fit through the checkout aisles, which Eugene had been meaning to get widened to make his burlier customers more comfortable with the shopping experience Aldersons had to offer. Lee asked another staff member, Paul, to watch his register while he went to the toilet. He needed a leak, but also to adjust his dick inside his underwear because he was particularly horny for muscle today, and so it was hard to keep his boner from jumping to attention at every other moment. When he came back onto the shop floor his eyes widened in sheer disbelief at the glorious sight that affronted his senses. This was his first encounter with Umberto. He was the biggest bodybuilder Lee had ever seen. But even more of a shock to Lee was the first thing this gigantic muscle-god said to him: "Hey there, sexy guy. I really like those pants you're wearing. I like the way the buttons are exposed. Where can I get a pair of those for myself?" Lee's two fetishes were stimulated at the same time. He couldn't believe it. Time seemed to stand still for Lee, now, allowing him to take in every inch of the bodybuilder, who, from this moment onward would change Lee’s life for the better. At about six feet five inches tall he had a good five inches on Lee. He was stunningly handsome, added further to by the hint of Italian in his accent. Size wise, he was super-massive, enormous beyond all sane reasoning. He had to be at least five hundred pounds in weight and every part of him was bursting with hard, sinewy and heavily veined muscle all packed in by paper thin skin which was naturally tinted a golden bronze. His hair was in a topknot style, but shaved tightly at the sides and back. His eyes were beautiful brown orbs set perfectly on either side of a Romanesque nose, with somewhat high cheekbones, chiselled square jawline with the manliest designer stubble Lee had ever seen. His lips looked perfect for sucking cocks. He smiled cockily at Lee and his teeth were scintillatingly white. He had a sparkle in his eyes as he winked suggestively at Lee, and they seemed excited to see the four shiny metal buttons on Lee’s pants glinting in the rays of the sunlight pouring in through the glass store front. Umberto’s neck was bull thick and his traps stretched like Alpine mountain ranges on either side of his neck. They tapered down to hugely swollen deltoids that exploded outward in all directions, and with massive ball biceps that looked set to burst even unflexed. He wore as a garment (if it could be called such) a gauzy sleeveless plaid shirt, the sleeves looking like at some point he’d outgrown them and so tore them from the shirt to better show off his arms. It was chequered with blue, navy and white squares. He wore it completely unbuttoned, as there was no way buttons could meet button-holes on this shirt because his gargantuan ballooning pecs would never allow it. His nipples were completely pointing down, and almost invisible due to the huge shadows his pectorals cast over the top two rows of his cobbled eight-pack abdominals. They also appeared darker because he had such large dark brown areolas, and the nipples themselves both had gold nipple rings through them. Lee guessed the nipples to be bigger than the tops of his thumbs. He felt himself growing painfully erect again. Umberto seemed to like this and so he bounced and rippled his pecs to better entice Lee and fuel his muscle-lust. The pec mountains rippled and jostled against each other, bobbing up and down like a roiling sea. He could even flex the upper pecs and different striations independently, which took amazing muscle control. “You’d better be careful not to pop those buttons off your sexy pants, beautiful,” teased Umberto, and he fanned out his lats to their fullest width followed by rolling his abs around before sucking them in. This caused his shirt to part further making it seem like the sleeveless button-up shirt was little more of a stringer tank on the bodybuilding behemoth. He thinks I’m sexy, omfg, Lee thought. He could feel his underpants getting damp with precum. Below his taut waist (which had to be at least a third the width of his chest) Umberto wore denim cut-off jeans. They had slanted cuts to better emphasise his humongous thighs with bloated quadriceps and hamstrings, all beautifully cut and separated and covered in thick veins which bulged more and more as he wobbled his thighs and then snapped them into tight, rock hard muscle relief. The best thing about the cut-offs was not only did they make his legs look even more monstrous than they were, but at some point Umberto had taken a scissors to the jeans, not only to cut them into bodybuilder shorts, but he also removed the waistband, making them look sexier and smaller on him. This also showed more of his cum-gutters that led down to the top part of dark man-bush poking out over the top of the shorts. Lee was transfixed. He once wore a pair of exposed button-fly Levis to a gay bar, and also had removed the waistband to better customise the look and show the beginning of his pubic line when he’d take his shirt off to dance shirtless on the dance floor and hopefully cop off with another cutie who liked the skinny twink boys. So far Lee could tell that Umberto had some of the same clothing tastes as he did. Umberto was in no way modest. He had no problem flirting with guys that all stood around them in shock at his size and beauty. He did a lat spread which further caused his upper body to flex and swell, as if he was growing right before their astonished eyes. Paul was amazed at this display, and forgot to scan half the groceries on his till for an elderly lady who didn’t even notice she was in the presence of a giant bodybuilding muscle hunk. She just grumbled to herself and fumbled in her purse for money. Sam stood on the floor next to the fresh flowers and said nothing, but he was able to get a better look at Umberto from behind. It was simply impossible not to stare at the biggest, most muscular man they’d ever seen. A male shopper, who lived in the same flat complex as Lee, and whose name was Keith, started to drool over Umberto. He was behind the old lady at Paul’s till and he should have been unloading his groceries onto the conveyor, but he was mesmerised by the size of the bodybuilding bodybuilder. He kept mouthing it on his lips: “Bodybuilding, bodybuilder, bodybuilt because he’s a bodybuilder that bodybuilds!” Over and over he chanted this mantra, and Keith, who was in his mid-20s or so, had a bit of muscle on him from playing rugby, but he also had a fair bit of fat on his frame hiding any definition that his muscle had beneath. But he was one of these cocky types who even though they no longer played sports as well as in their younger years, still kept a certain amount of muscle mass. He dressed as if he was a bodybuilder, unashamed of the fact that his once meaty pecs now looked more like man-boobs than pectorals. His arms were doughier, but still muscled, and he wore a cutaway tee-shirt that left just a thin panel of fabric between his tits so that most of his torso front and back was on show. He had a bit of a gut on him but he could still suck it in. He had blue eyes and sandy-gingerish hair, and freckles which lent him a more youthful look. At six foot two inches tall he was quite broad shouldered in that “I lift weights but not as much as I should” way. Were he to spend a couple of months hitting the weights, he’d easily get rid of the thirty-five pounds of fat he was carrying. He also wore denim jeans, but cut off just above the knee. He had wide hips that actually looked good on him. Back to Umberto’s cut-offs. Lee could see that the panel covering the button-fly was pushed away from the buttons by the sheer mass of cock and ball meat he had pushing it out. He was obviously hung like a horse, bigger even, Lee guessed. Unashamedly Umberto enjoyed his cocky display of hyper-masculinity. He cranked out a massive most-muscular, laughing and growling for fun. His traps trebled their mass and his pectorals bunched together creating a cleavage that could hide and crush a rolling pin. Biceps threatened to burst out of their skin and went to war for space against his forearms. Threads began to snap apart across Umberto’s shirt at the back as the seams clung on for dear life. Even though unbuttoned, there was way too much mass for the fabric to cope with. Umberto didn’t care as his muscles burst into diamond-hard relief as veins gorged on blood and thickened all over his body. “Reckon I’ll be popping my own buttons real soon,” he cockily suggested with a wink and smug grin. He nodded his brand of self-assured alpha-male conceit at the males in proximity. He owned the moment as much as he could own them all if he so desired. “I’m Umberto, sexy man,” began the bodybuilder, this time back to making his pectoral masses heave and bulge to a massive degree. Then: “You never answered my question. About your exposed button-fly pants. This huge bodybuilding god wants a pair for himself, sexy man.” “Ughh…um…I… I’m Lee,” was all Lee could manage to stammer, his mouth suddenly parchment dry. Inside in the manager’s office, Eugene had been watching the spectacle unfold (and bulge hugely) on the CCTV monitors. They were constantly recording in HD colour and full audio, so he made damn sure he’d get all this onto a memory stick for further “examination” later at home in front of his PC with his jocks down around his ankles. He’d been listening, too. Omg, he thought, this giant wants to join the EBF club. “EBF” was short for exposed button-fly. But we don’t have pants to fit him in stock. Unless… Eugene gingerly came out of the office holding a pair of scissors and bashfully handed them to Lee, gesturing to Umberto’s bulging crotch with a nod of his head and then back at Lee. Lee knew what to do. “Er…,” he licked his lips, trying to moisten his mouth to speak. “I cuh-could customise your shorts if you like, Um… Umberto. Make the buttons visible. Only take a sec.” Lee had no idea if Umberto would be satisfied with that. Umberto stopped bouncing his pecs and stuck his thumbs into the top of his cut-offs where a waistband had once been. “Sure, that sounds great. I’ll be even fuckin’ sexier after you make my shorts even hotter. Careful though, I’m really sensitive in the crotch area. You never know what’ll happen if your hand slips while using the scissors,” Umberto teased, suggesting Lee perform the “delicate fashion surgery” while he still wore the shorts. “Um, maybe you should take them off, just to be on the safe side,” said Lee, relieved that he could speak again after moisture returned to his mouth. Elsewhere more moisture was gathering in his underpants as his dick oozed precum. A dark stain became more evident down the front of his EBFs. “Good idea. I should go somewhere to change. Don’t want grandma here to get a fright,” said Umberto, briefly tipping his head towards the oblivious old lady still fumbling in her purse. Eugene said they could use his office, which, thankfully, also had a camera, so he could have it all recorded. Eugene put in the door code and gestured for the muscle giant to go in. Umberto was almost level with the top of the door frame, his topknot flattened as he twisted and grunted his way through a doorway not designed for enormous bodybuilders. “Come along, sexy Lee, make my shorts look like your sexy, oh so sexy pants, little stud.” Umberto was full of compliments for the bespectacled hot twink. Since he was new in town, he’d resolve to make Aldersons his place to shop. It was by now obvious he had a thing for slim young twinks in exposed button-fly pants. Eugene took over on the till, but his mind was elsewhere and the customers he served got some bargains in their shopping as he forgot to scan every other item. Once in the manager’s office Umberto’s mood kicked up a notch. He tore the shirt off his bulbous mega-muscled upper body and tossed it at Lee. “Souvenir for ya. You can keep it, sexy Lee. I workout all the time in that shirt, and it’s never washed. My stink is all over it. Here, have a deep sniff of my muscle-sweat stink.” Lee’s dick was rock hard, now. Fully erect it could reach ten inches. Skinny twinks were often blessed with disproportionately large penises, lucky them. But when he allowed himself to inhale Umberto’s pungent bodybuilder whiff, it made him nearly jizz his pants. A bigger circle of dampness now surrounded the four buttons on his fly. Umberto puffed himself up to his biggest size and hit pose after pose, each one squeezing more and more blood through his super-highway of veins, so his muscles could gorge and grow frenziedly with more size and definition. “I had the best workout today, sexy lanky Lee. Benched 1000 pounds for 8 sets of 12 reps. The other muscle-fucks over there almost came when they saw me break by own record for the fifth time straight. Awwww… I feel fucking huge today.” Umberto hit a double biceps pose. His 33 inch biceps crunched up another few inches till his knuckles were almost trekking across their peaks. It was astonishing to think that Lee, being so slender, only had a 27 and a half inch waist. His fucking waist was smaller than Umberto’s titanic biceps. How big was his chest? OMG, it had to be at least 80 inches, maybe more. “Right, get to work on my cut-offs here, and then we can have some fun. I noticed your boss has a bottle of hand lotion on his desk. He must get up to all sorts in here watching his cute male staff at work through the monitors.” In actual fact this was exactly what Eugene often got up to when he should have been doing product orders or staff rosters. And he often liked to wank at the bodybuilders that came in to do their shopping. Umberto was enormous. He had that sexy waddle to his walk, when bodybuilders grow their legs so big that the thighs hit against one another for space, and not only that, the huge junk afforded to him by winning the genetic lottery was forced more outwards from his body. His pectoral shelf of meaty slabs stuck out so far from his upper torso that it was impossible for him to see below them unless he bent forwards, but even that was not always ideal for performing certain tasks. He would always button up his pants in front of a mirror, always making sure never to miss a button. He hated when guys would miss buttons, especially if they were drunk at bars. Lee hated that as well. And being a wearer exclusively of exposed button-fly jeans and pants, he always made sure to fasten his buttons carefully, given they were on show for all to see. Umberto’s biceps and forearms fought a war for space as he tried to unbutton his cut-offs. He was so pumped from his workout, and he knew he was bigger now than he had been before hitting Gridiron earlier. “Oh dear, I’m so fucking huge, getting undressed is becoming a chore for me. Here, Lee, unbutton my shorts for me. Careful now, something huge might spring up and slap you in the face! Hah!” Lee painfully fought the urge to cum right there and then. He walked over to the giant (oh fuck he smelled even better than his shirt). But there was a problem. Umberto’s pecs were so huge (even more so when flexed) that Lee had to get beneath them to unbutton the behemoth’s cut-offs. “Heh heh, sorry my balloons are taking up so much room. I can barely see my dick when I’m peeing. But hey, you gotta make adjustments to your life’s route when you choose the bodybuilding journey. How’s it going down there with the denim?” “Two buttons open so far, Umberto.” Lee tried not to breathe in the spunky musk smell wafting up at him from Umberto’s stinky dark man-bush. Fuck did he even take a shower after his workout? And he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Lee was kind of disappointed, as he’d hoped to see Umberto in a skimpy poser or thong of some kind. The beginning of a mammoth cock appeared as Lee worked on Umberto’s buttons. “Kinda tickles down there, Lee. Go easy on Junior. He gets ‘very’ restless a lot. Umberto made a massive lat spread there and then, simply because he could, heaving his bodybuilder bosoms up higher, the nipples warping from the downward position to almost dead-centre of his fully flexed and insanely striated balloons. “There you have enough room to work with now. I can keep these fuckers flexed like this for as long as I like. Wait, let me grunt out some more, and get the testosterone surging right to my pec-meats. Watch these fuckers grow more. MORE!!!! MOAAAAR!!! GRRRRRRRRRRRRR!” Umberto flexed his upper body more savagely now, ballooning impossibly larger. “Gotta get this chest past a hundred. GOTTA GET BIGGER!” Lee was stunned. He couldn’t move a muscle of his own except to gaze up in awe at possibly the biggest bodybuilder ever to do bodybuilding and look like he was getting bigger by the second. That was impossible, right? Wasn’t it? Umberto became more arrogant, now demanding what he wanted from Lee. “Get those shorts off me, boy. I want EBFs like yours. NOW!!!!” Lee’s lust made all this seem coated in a dreamy haze. He could hear his heart beating in his head. His senses began to melt, then congeal into a soupy puddle. But the bodybuilder had set him a task, therefore he must finish it. Umberto’s thighs were 48 inches of solid muscle, and so getting the shorts off was like rolling on a condom, in reverse. Lee had to force them past his thighs, which took some effort. By now Umberto's dick was out, not quite hard, but not quite flaccid. Lee was amazed to see that it had to be easily over a foot long, maybe more. It had twice the amount of veins on it as average penises, and the mushroom head was big, purple and shiny, and easily four times the average size. A ropy string of precum began to extend downward to the floor from its delicious slit. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to ride a monster cock of that magnitude, although he’d seen several twinks on porn sites fooling around with fake dicks even bigger than Umberto’s, resulting in those horrid prolapsed or herniated rectums that some sick fuckers were into. When Lee finally got the shorts down to his ankles, the behemoth relaxed his flexing and stepped out of the shorts. Lee could finally get to work with the scissors. “Make sure you do a good job on them, Lee. I ruined many pairs customising them in the past. Of course, I was smaller back then. A LOT smaller,” Umberto boasted. “Er… I’m pretty good at this, Umberto. I cut many of my own pairs when I couldn’t buy them off the rack,” said Lee, sitting at Eugene’s desk so he could work on the shorts. “Yeah, they’re hard to find, especially to fit my hulking frame. Clothes and me usually part company way too soon. But that’s the price you pay for bodybuilding.” Umberto bounced his pecs and then allowed some precum to pool in his callused palm. He licked it for no apparent reason but to get off on his own freaky size. Lee worked with his back to the bodybuilder so he could concentrate better. He also refrained from looking at the monitors, one of which was showing the giant making lots of bodybuilding poses. But at least his grunting and moans of self-indulgent pleasure wasn’t too much of a distraction. Lee’s hands trembled slightly due to extreme muscle-lust. The smell of muscle-man stink hung heavily in the musty air of the office. There was an air conditioner on the wall but it hadn’t worked in ages. Oh Eugene, lusting after men on the monitors and forgetting to take care of Alderson’s maintenance. Naughty Eugene. He held his breath as he made the scissor blades connect with the denim. He just about managed to cut away the panel covering the fly buttons of the Levis 501s. They were a bit faded, well worn in, and smelly as fuck. He saw that they might be counterfeits, as there was a “CM” on the back label below the waist and leg measurements, which Lee knew to mean “custom made”. It made sense. Umberto’s upper leg to waist ratio – not to mention his massively developed glutes – meant that shopping for regular Levis was impossible. The little red tag on the back pocket also seemed slightly larger than usual. But fuck it, they still looked hot. After a short time, Lee was done cutting. He was pleased with the result. The inner panel through which the button-holes were punched was a couple of shades darker than the now removed front panel. This was because they were less faded due to being protected from direct sunlight, so this effect made the buttons stand out more. Hey, this was one of Lee’s fetishes (tame compared to the absolute filth some people got off to), so he was an expert when it came to jeans customisation. He swivelled around in Eugene’s chair and nervously held up the now sexier shorts for Umberto to inspect. “Hey, they look great. Bet they’ll look even better when I put ‘em back on, Lee. Thank you for doing this. You don’t mind helping me back on with my new EBFs?” “Sure, but I’m being honest with you, Umberto. I haven’t had a wank since yesterday. My balls are gonna explode if I don’t do something about it,” said Lee in earnest. He stooped to allow the bodybuilder to step back into the shorts. “Don’t worry, sexy Lee. Just do this one thing for huge bodybuilder Umberto Morelli, and I’ll award you and help you take care of your little problem, although judging by how soaked the front of your EBFs are, you must have quite the equipment packed away so Umberto can’t see it.” He made a playful sad clown face. Lee thought it was really hot whenever Umberto referred to himself in the third person, like he was objectifying himself as a big, dumb hunk of muscle. It was much harder getting the shorts back up past Umberto’s redwoods for thighs, but he finally managed it. Now it was time to stuff back in Umberto’s generous trouser snake and orange-sized balls. It suddenly occurred to him that these custom-made shorts (originally full-length blue jeans) had five buttons on the fly, which meant that had the waistband not been removed, there would have been six vertical shiny metal buttons. It made sense. The extra button would be necessary to fasten over a larger crotch size. They looked so good. One by one Lee carefully buttoned up the EBFs, but Umberto’s junk made the crotch front strain so that the buttons were put under pressure, same as the gaps that can appear between the shirt buttons of a strained dress shirt on a fat or muscular man whose lifestyles made them quickly outgrow shirts. It took plenty of effort on Lee’s part, and by the time he was finished he was somewhat depleted of stamina. At least less stamina helped to stem the flow of his impending jizz torrent and delay it slightly. “All done, Umberto,” Lee panted and slumped back into Eugene’s office chair. “Mmmm, they feel a little tighter this time. You sure you didn’t take them in a little?” Umberto was joking, of course. He knew that all Lee did was free the button-fly from beneath its denim concealment. The spicy Italian flexed and rolled his sequoia thighs, hammering out definition and hardness that would make the Hulk faint with jealousy. Unseen by Lee, he flexed his huge glutes around at his arsehole, forcing the button-fly to strain even further. Lee gasped as tufts of the bodybuilder’s pubic forest began to poke through the gaps forced to appear between the buttons. The shorts seemed doomed to come apart, and explosively so. “Nuh-no, sir,” answered Lee, his stammer having returned. “Hmm, maybe the lack of decent air in this office is forcing the denim to shrink, or something,” Umberto offered in the way of a jest. He could feel himself getting bigger and bigger. He loved it. It was his ultimate obsession, to force his muscles to grow bigger, harder, and stronger than ever before in front of a sexy skinny twink set to blow his load at any moment. Umberto brought his hands up behind his head and locked his calloused fingers together (the ones you only get from lifting very heavy weights and wearing out too many lifting gloves). He flexed for all he was worth (which was a hell of a lot), flaring out his lats to their engorged fullest. He tightened up his abs and rolled his thigh muscles faster and harder, taking it in turns to snap the muscles of each leg hard and bulging, which forced his shorts to strain further as his genitals got hungry for some growth of their own. “I’m so fuckin’ huge, Lee. I can scarcely believe it. Look at the fuckin’ size of me. Tell me how huge I am, sexy little man!” Umberto was so turned on by his own masculine fervency. He popped a huge double biceps and then turned sideways to explode into a ridiculously huge side chest pose. His muscle tits roared frenziedly with size, almost bursting like beach balls, and the veins on his forearms flared hot, thick and dark over papery golden bronze skin. “You… are the… biggest, most muscular god of a man… gasp… I’ve ever seen,” Lee stated through a voice heavy with rasping muscle lust. “That’s true, alright. In fact, in reality, I’m not the biggest. Not yet anyway. But I’ll explain all that in due course,” said the bodybuilder who brought down his hands to dig his thumbs into his sides in order to inflate up to a monstrous lat spread. His delta wings swelled and widened. His pectoral masses heaved and burst upwards and outwards with size and power; the upper pecs alone began to constrict his airflow and brush against his granite chin, forcing him to lean his head backwards to better show off the massive size he was capable of displaying. “Hmm, but I really want to check out for myself the glorious sight of me wearing my cut-away EBF slut shorts, only there are no mirrors in here. What’s a massive bodybuilder to do, gorgeous Lee?” Umberto was such a tease, but Lee didn’t want it to stop, not ever. Moaning with lust, his scant chest heaving under his trim work polo shirt, Lee gestured to another door to Eugene’s office. It led to the rear of the supermarket and to a corridor that connected to several rooms, amongst them the staff toilets, changing rooms, plus a showering facility and staff canteen. At the end of the corridor were a set of double doors that led out back to where stock was stored and deliveries taken in. Other double doors connected to the store’s front of house through which staff could move fresh stock on pallets and trolleys for restocking of the shelves; all typical supermarket stuff. “The men’s changing room has a mirror, maybe even wide enough to show you in your entirety. Through there, and second door on the right,” Lee gestured. “Hmm, that may do. But you’ll have to come with me. I need you to witness how I react to seeing me wearing my first pair of EBFs. Can’t do this without a sexy witness to make the event official,” Umberto declared, sealing the deal with a bounce of his floppy, huge pectorals, which he deftly forced to snap taut and hard as bricks. Umberto squeezed his bulk through the door to the back corridor, Lee obediently following. “Um… bring that lotion with you, sexy Lee. We’re definitely gonna need it.” He sealed the remark with another deliciously sexy wink. The doors to the changing rooms (the other one being for female staff, although only three girls currently worked at Alderson’s) were not as wide as the previous doors Umberto had to stoop and squeeze through. This time he made sure his body was pumped up to its fullest as he tried to squeeze through. “Hmm, this won’t do. Good job you brought that lotion, Lee. You’re gonna have to lotion me up to help me squeeze all this muscled manliness through your inferior little changing room door,” said Umberto assuredly. “Oh fuck, Umberto, your sexy little Lee is gonna come very very soon,” Lee said, groaning as his lust gained further power over him. He noticed that he was becoming a little more daring with the choice of words he used to talk to the bodybuilder. “Don’t be shy, my sexy, and quite potential boyfriend-in-waiting. Lube me up so I can revel at the sight of my sexy exposed button-fly denim cut-offs.” Umberto’s voice had deepened to a sexy husky tone, and the slight Italian accent lent it a crisp accentuation that only added to his overall sexiness. His “boyfriend-in-waiting”. Had Lee heard him correctly, or was it just wishful thinking playing tricks on the twink’s hearing? “Okay, just a little bit longer. The right time for you to come is fast approaching. Hang in there a little. But before you unscrew the cap from the lotion bottle, I wanna sniff something to further heighten my own lust, which is now not only just self-adoring muscle lust, but also a lust for something else,” said Umberto, extending his reach as if to engulf Lee with his size and strength. Lee somehow knew what Umberto wanted to do. He completely gave in; he was powerless to resist. He let himself get picked up by Umberto, which the bodybuilder did all too easily. “Fuck, you feel weightless to me,” said Umberto after lifting Lee several feet off the floor. He raised him up so that his crotch was level with the most handsome face Lee had ever seen. Nay, not handsome… Umberto was beautiful beyond sane reasoning. The giant bodybuilder muscle-god pressed his nose and mouth to Lee’s crotch. He inhaled slowly and deeply, enjoying the aroma and wetness of Lee’s precum-sodden work pants. “Yum… you smell fantastic down there, sexy Lee,” said Umberto before running his tongue up and down Lee’s crotch area, liking the taste of the precum and the metallic aftertaste left from the buttons on his fly. He wanted to hold him tight and hug him forever, but there was still work to be done. In order to get to the mirror in the changing room, he had to fit through the door. The lotion was a vital tool that would help make that happen. How did I last this long, thought Lee as he squeezed a good handful of lotion into his palm. He’d lost track of the normal passage of time ever since first laying eyes on Umberto Morelli. It could have been minutes that passed, or hours; he just didn’t know one from the other. Usually he’d have jizzed himself well before now, and that wasn’t even in the presence of a muscle-god, just regular bodybuilders or porn stuff on the internet. He’d fucked plenty of guys since exploding onto the gay scene a couple years previously, and he’d even gone through a premature ejaculatory phase, however, that changed as he learned to fuck properly and make it as pleasurable as possible for both giver and receiver. It seemed as though his libido had developed a mind of its own and was helping Lee to keep itself holding on as long as possible so as not to ruin a single moment of an incredible situation that continued to intensify and drive his lust factor through the roof. “Oh I see your boss likes the good stuff,” Umberto commented, noticing the lotion was one of the more expensive brands. He beamed a broad grin and then turned around so his back was facing towards Lee. “Start by lotioning up my back, sexy boyfriend,” Umberto urged cheekily. Lee was stunned. He said ‘boyfriend’ this time, without the ‘in-waiting’ part. Lee began to worry this was some bizarre dream he was having. He’d passed out right at the till once before because he’d been late for his shift that morning and so had had to skip breakfast. Maybe the same thing had happened this time. Had he forgotten to eat today? His brain melted and turned to runny gloop which didn’t help. But it felt too real – far too stimulating – to be a dream. This had to be real. Umberto appeared to be into Lee as much as Lee was into him. Umberto was everything Lee could have ever dreamed of and lusted for. But was this as far as it would go? Could there be anything beyond this incredible encounter with a muscle-god? Lee made sure his hands and fingers were well-coated with the moisturising lotion. Umberto thought it fun to stand in front of the changing room door and fan out his back to its widest by doing a rear lat-spread, showing how the door was almost half a foot narrower on each side than his back and shoulders. Lee gasped, feeling himself go all wobbly. Still, he must soldier on. Umberto was adamant that Lee carry out his duty to its fullest. “Wow this door is ridiculously narrow, Lee my man. See how I’ve widened my back to make it easier for you to rub on the lotion? Wouldn’t want your delightful digits to get eaten up by the deep cuts between my back muscles. I could hide loose change in those muscle gullies. Heh!” Lee tentatively touched Umberto’s skin, starting at the lower back region. His waist-to-shoulder ratio was insane. Most men opted for a V-taper and so worked out to achieve that. But if Umberto’s taper were to be represented by a letter of the alphabet, it would be a very big uppercase ‘V’ in bold, with three ‘W’s side by side on top. Something like that anyway. Lee was aghast at how smooth, but hard the skin felt, as the muscles were expanded to their fullest. He gasped with a mixture of lust and anxiety as he rubbed in the lotion and quickly relaxed and began to enjoy the sensation of working his lotioned hands up and across the massive delta of Umberto’s back. “Wow, that feels so good, Lee. Keep going. Get more on there. I need to be really slippery with lotion so’s I can get through this fucking door. I can’t wait to see what I look like in my very much improved bodybuilder slut shorts.” Umberto was nothing but playfully and lustily enthusiastic. He was enjoying this experience as much as Lee was. Lee was silent now, concentrating on the task, trying his best to commit every muscle bump and valley to memory, in case he never saw Umberto again after this encounter. This memory would be deposited in his ‘wank bank’ forever after, and hopefully the ruined shirt Umberto had given him as a gift would never lose its muscle man-stink. Lee ran out of lotion half way up the spread of Umberto’s muscle wings, and so he had to squirt another good glob of it into his palm. He lubed his palms up again and returned to exploring the ever-moistening expanse of Umberto’s muscular landscape stretched before him. This time the lotion bottle made that sound when there is more air than lotion coming out of the nozzle. “Jeez, sexy Lee, I hope there’s enough lotion in that bottle. You still need to lube up my shoulders, beachball pectorals, arms and maybe even my legs, if I stand a chance of seeing myself in that mirror. I really can’t wait to look at myself properly since my last workout. I know I’m bigger than I was this morning. I need to see it or I’ll get upset. And you wouldn’t like to see Umberto get upset.” Umberto changed his pose to a rear double biceps. His mountainous arms bunched up and became rock hard boulders, thick veins cracking up through the skin the more he flexed. His rear traps and other back muscles bunched together and bulged to extremes as Lee worked more lotion into them. His palms quickly ran dry of the lotion and it was time for another squirt. There was only one squirt left. “Muh-maybe enough for your shoulders… and pecs, I think,” Lee once again stammered. “Shit, that may not be enough. Look at the fucking size of my shoulders, their sheer width even bones me up more than ever. And my pectorals are fucking gigantic.” Once again turning to face the incredibly fortunate twink, Umberto expertly made his muscle-tits bounce and roll and crack one striation after another across their corpulent masses. His pectorals were actually disproportionately large compared with the rest of his muscles. Umberto liked it that way, having a balloon chest so busty, it was getting harder and harder to see over them. When he’d be lying on the bench, pressing 1000 pounds of weight over and over, his entire field of vision would be taken up by super-swollen biceps pressing against the size of his pecs. In turn, this combined with the superior weight they displaced, making them bulge obscenely upward and forming a muscle cleavage that a grown man could lose a hand and wrist in, possibly half his forearm too. But he still wasn’t satisfied with the size of his pecs, or his overall size. “Lube up my big pecs next, sexy boy,” Umberto commanded, his tone guttural and his breath heavy, “I’ll bounce them like fucking crazy while you’re doing it.” Lee moaned lustily as he worked the cream into the heaving bodybuilder-bosoms. They felt so heavy as his fingers lingered around the swollen under-swells of his lower pectorals. He felt their heft in his hands and they had to weigh at least forty pounds apiece, maybe more. Umberto heaved and squeezed them together, forcing them to bulge hugely, inviting Lee to explore the canyon his busty pectorals formed as they were pressed together. “Work that cream into my cleavage, Lee, and then into the big dimples I can form on each side of my outer pectorals with minimal effort, just by lightly squeezing my biceps. I don’t even have to flex that much to dimple out my titan-tits.” Sure enough a deep delicious dimple formed on each side of Umberto’s pecs, big enough for Lee’s fists to become embedded in. More pec squeezing enticed Lee’s fingers to sensuously scurry his fingers across the massive globes, until finally he could bury his lotion-smeared digits deep into Umberto’s canyon cleavage. The cleavage hungrily devoured the lotion along with Lee’s fingers and even part of the hands themselves. Lee gasped further, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his dick pushing out his button-fly pants even further. He was close to blowing his wad. But still, Umberto demanded he explore further. “My pecs can swell even more if you play with my monster nips, Lee. Go on, tickle and twist them. Enjoy my nubs as much as they will enjoy you,” Umberto urged, throwing his head back in the throes of utter muscle bliss. He was obsessed with bodybuilding. He would never stop bodybuilding. He needed to bodybuild more and more, increasing in size and getting stronger, hotter, and way more beautiful than he currently was. And Lee would be his muse-cum-helper monkey, to put it into an amusing context. Lee got hold of the downward pointing nipples, each bigger than the tops of his thumbs. He started by inserting his fingers into each nipple ring and tugging them downward. The nubs felt so firm, so large and manly, and it took a bit of effort on Lee’s part to make them yield. The rings were quite sexy to interact with, but he wanted to give his full attention to the nipples proper. He removed his fingers from the rings so he could grasp the nipple flesh. He twisted them and played with them for a bit. Umberto gasped and moaned, loving every moment. He bounced the fuck out of his muscle boobs, working more and more blood and testosterone into them and causing a surge of both throughout his body. Both men had completely forgotten they were in the staff back area of a supermarket. This experience for both of them transcended reality, leaving behind the here and now. There was only timeless muscle-lust and the bliss it coerced into being. “Unnngh… so good, Lee. I love how you play with my nubs, and how you made my pectorals moist and glistening. More lotion, though… around my deltoids and upper arms. I need to get through that door now… NOW! I gotta see how I look in my exposed button-fly bodybuilder whore-denims before I fucking EXPLODE!!!! Grrrr!” The lotion was all but used up. Lee managed to get a little out onto his palm and did his best to smear as much as he could over the areas requested – nay, demanded – by Umberto. The melon-sized delts glistened less than satisfactorily as the lotion finally gave up its ghost. Lee began to panic. He needed to let some pressure out from his painfully tight boner crotch. He undid the waistband button and two of the fly buttons of his pants, and pushed his hand past the elastic of his boxer briefs in order to adjust his junk. It helped a little. How have I not come yet, he thought? Is it possible that Umberto exerted such a hold over him that he was capable of delaying Lee’s impending orgasm and explosion of jizz on a subliminal level? This chemistry between them had to be explored further. Umberto had fucked hundreds of men, mostly bodybuilders, and not one of them had had this much of an effect on his muscle arousal as that which Lee was capable of making him feel. A super skinny twink with glasses, and he was driving Umberto crazy with muscle lust, urging him to swell bigger and bigger than his muscles had swelled before. “I could run out to the shop floor and grab some more lotion from the shelf, if you like, buh… but I don’t think I’ll last long enough to get out there. My erection is now at full mast, Umberto. I’m packing ten inches of twink meat down there, and besides, I had to undo some of my buttons. Can’t do them back up again, not yet anyway,” Lee explained in honesty. “There’s no time for that, boyfriend,” Umberto growled. He said that word again. This was their first encounter and already he was calling him ‘boyfriend’. He continued: “I’ll just have to improvise. Grrrrrrr”. Umberto had to stoop and turn sideways to attempt to get through the door. His lotioned pecs and back created a sideways girth wider than the door by almost a foot. He was sweaty now, so at least the sweat was mixing with the lotion and helping him lube up further. But it still wasn’t enough to get through the door and to the precious mirror beyond. “Right. Fuck this!!!” Somehow he managed to squeeze partway through the door, his knees bent to lower his height somewhat. Then he attempted a half-twist of his body to force himself through further. He began to flex. Then he flexed some more. Then he flexed huger and huger. Lee heard the sound of splintering wood. Some plaster became dislodged from around the doorframe. Slowly but surely, Umberto was transforming the dimensions of the door frame to accommodate his gigantic muscle mass. The door itself, which had been opened inwards, immediately broke away from its hinges and flew across the changing room to strike a row of lockers at the back of the room. This gave Umberto a couple more inches to work with. The door frame buckled further. Wood continued to crack and split along with masonry becoming loose around the door frame. “Nearly there. Shoulders almost through!” He had now widened the door sufficiently to stand face to face with Lee, each mighty shoulder pushing the door frame out further on either side. Still with his head bowed forward and his knees half-bent, Umberto proceeded to bring himself up to full height. The backs of his traps bore the full force of mutilating the crossbeam that formed the horizontal top of the door frame. He applied more and more force, deforming the door further as he pushed upwards and outwards simultaneously. Was this a load-bearing wall? Lee was no architect, but Umberto’s incredible display of power made him not care if the entire store came down around them. He had all the buttons of his pants open, now, so it made it slightly easier for him to further resist the urge to blow his wad. The first three inches of his above average dick poked out of the top of his boxer briefs. No point hiding it now. “Wow, I look forward to getting to know your cock, Lee sexy man,” drooled Umberto as he flexed to his full height and titanic width. The door frame came completely away from the wall around it, shattering into splinters, which, fortunately, didn't find a home anywhere near Lee’s delicate skin. Still, Lee found himself having to run to a safe distance further down the corridor as Umberto finished performing such a superhuman feat of strength, The ceiling hadn’t collapsed, so that was something to be thankful for, but the damage was significant. Eugene would not be pleased, but with everything getting recorded by his CCTV, he’d have wank material to last him the rest of his life. A little structural damage could be dealt with easily enough. “There, now THAT’s a door befitting a bodybuilder my size. Fuck the prick who decided to create a door for hobbits,” Umberto boasted, pleased with his handiwork. Once through the door and into the changing room, Umberto pumped up to his full height and width, flaring his lats and bouncing his pectoral mountains simultaneously. He was a bit disappointed when he saw the mirror. “That’s a bit shit. Okay, so it’s a full length mirror, but it’s only two feet wide. I’m three times that wide, maybe. But it’ll have to do.” Umberto relaxed his posing and stood as far back from the mirror as the size of the room would allow. The fluorescent light overhead was bright and sufficient. Umberto looked down at his cut-offs, with their missing waistband, shortened length, and the exposed button-fly. His reflection (or part of it) filled the entire mirror. “Fucking amazing. You worked well on them, Lee. They’re so hot and I want you to convert all my jeans and pants from now on. Make them all EBFs. But you know what? I’m so horny now, I don’t think these buttons are going to hold. What do you think?” Lee didn’t know what to say. He was in awe of the muscle-god. It sounded like Umberto was planning that their ‘relationship’ be a long term thing. He liked the sound of that. “You can blow your load, now, honey. Umberto is pleased with the attention you’ve given him. Now to give you something back as a reward. But first get out of that uniform and your boxers. I wanna see all of you.” Lee went quiet again, eager to please the giant wall of mega-muscle before him. He hurried himself to complete nakedness and stood before Umberto, skinny, lanky, and naked as the day he was born. His erection was at full mast and it shot straight up level with his abs and well past his belly button. Umberto loved how hung he was for such a skinny guy. “Wow, that’s a gorgeous cock you have. Who’d have thought your button-fly could keep all that in without bursting apart?” Umberto’s words were too much. Lee moaned and his entire body shook as his balls began to throb for release of his spunk. It was Umberto’s cue to reach forward and effortlessly lift Lee upwards, drawing his quivering dick up to his manly, too-sexy lips. Just as Lee screamed in release of his salty créme, Umberto took hold of his cock and sucked it all the way into his mouth. Lee’s body tensed like iron in his grip as his spunk gushed down Umberto’s throat. The bodybuilder drank deeply, pleased – and a little surprised – that such a skinny guy could produce so much seed. Five shots of come, or maybe six, gushed down Umberto’s throat and he took Lee to the very last drop. Lee’s scream quietened and his body went limp in Umberto’s hold. The giant bodybuilder had been satiated, for now. He pulled Lee close to him, this time tenderly, and allowed the little guy to bury his face in his huge and beautiful pectorals. Lee nuzzled each pec with equal tenderness. Then he started sobbing unexpectedly. “That was… amazing… ohmygosh!” was all he could say. Umberto hugged him a little longer, before setting him down. There was a bench in the changing room where the male staff could sit down to take their work shoes on and off. He sat there, naked and quivering with a mixture of elation and nervous anxiety. Spent of his seed, his body needed time to adjust to normality again. Maybe it never would. He looked up at the massive muscle-god. “But what about you? Aren’t you gonna come as well?” An innocently put question that made Lee look even cuter. “Well I don’t want to ruin these beautiful improved cut-offs that now exist thanks to you,” Umberto explained. He added: “Besides, I shot a massive fucking load in the gym before I left it. Drenched four bodybuilders in the shower who then started having an orgy to get as much of my come into their mouths. It was quite a sight to behold. I didn’t even bother to shower. Just came over here to get some grub. Which reminds me, I’m fucking starving after my workout.” “So then, this is it? I don’t get to taste your muscle spunk? Can we do this again?” Lee was suddenly greatly concerned that Umberto had been fucking with him from the beginning just to get a mouthful of twink jizz. But Umberto smiled at him, warmly, his cocky demeanour now taking a back seat to something between friendliness and wanting something more. He lifted Lee onto the bench so that their eye levels were now the same. He raised a big callused mitt up to gently pinch Lee on the cheek. Of course, this caused his biceps and forearm muscles to collide, forcing more and more veins to freakishly bloat and swell with power. “Don’t worry, sexy Lee… MY sexy Lee. Had I known I’d meet someone like you at the most unexpected moment, I’d never have shot my litre-sized load back over in the gym. I was super horny after one of the best workouts of my life. Sometimes any horniness remaining manifests as playful arrogance, if that’s even a thing. I’m a little spent now, and I’ve had my fun for the time being. But I gotta pay the bills, so I have to get something to eat and then get to work. I just moved into the big warehouse apartment on Bridge Street and I gotta work to keep a roof over my head, and, of course, to pay for all the food and supplements I need to grow so fucking huge!” A tinge of the arrogant self-indulgent Umberto returned to finish his last sentence. Lee’s eyes grew wide with surprise. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Did you say Bridge Street? Why… I live right across the street from that apartment. How come I never saw you before today? You’re impossible to miss.” Lee couldn’t believe that the man of his dreams was very much a reality, and lived just a few metres from his own flat. “Just moved in yesterday. I didn’t unpack. Just hit the weights hard. I’ll have a full gym set up in the place eventually. But for now Gridiron will suffice. It’s for the genetically gifted hyper-muscled bodybuilders who want to grow even bigger. My kinda place. But I really can’t wait to get to know you better. Hey I never even got your surname, did I?” Umberto’s lust had levelled out. He behaved quite gentlemanly now, but he was the type that could explode into a massive most muscular at any moment and anger up the testosterone in his balls again, setting it off like a nest of disturbed hornets. “It’s Fordham. Lee Fordham,” Lee replied. “Nice to meet you, Lee Fordham. Umberto Morelli really likes what he sees. And Umberto Morelli really wants to get to know you better. Are you free tomorrow evening for dinner? I know this great Italian pizza place on Timpani Street. I have an account there. But it’s quite a formal dress code, too. Do you own a dress shirt and bow tie? I’m really into bow ties.” Umberto lifted Lee down from the bench and bent down to pick up his clothes for him. In fairness Lee could have done with a shower before going back to work, but he had a feeling Eugene would go easy on him. Besides, it had to be near the end of his shift, now that a sense of the normal passage of time had returned to Lee. “I also love bow ties. I’ve got a drawer full of them,” Lee beamed. He couldn’t believe it… Umberto was asking him out on a date. A proper date. He’d never been on one of those before, usually scoring with guys at gay bars or occasional internet hookups. “Great. Meet me outside my apartment at 8pm. Hopefully the sun will still be out and we can casually stroll hand in hand to the restaurant, dressed in our finest and turning the heads of everyone we pass. But we won’t give a shit. Fuck them. I’ve got too much muscle to care.” And to illustrate unabashedly, the bodybuilder brought his arms up and popped out a huge double biceps. His muscle peaks blasted upward like new mountains being birthed from the earth. Lightning flashes of veins cracked across every surface. Lee gasped yet again. And then Umberto was gone, squeezing through the enlarged doorway he had made for himself. Wearing only his denim cut-offs with the buttons shining and fully exposed, he left via the delivery entrance, deciding not to cause too much of a commotion given that he was completely shirtless. He could have used a shower. Plaster dust and splinters of wood still clung to some of the more moisturised parts of his muscles. Fuck it, he’d still turn heads wherever he went. He was a muscle-god and so to him normal rules no longer applied. Later on, Lee was at his locker, having had a shower after such a spectacular afternoon. Eugene was upset over the damage Umberto had made to the changing room door, but Lee said all the wanking he’d be doing to the recordings of Umberto being cocky and self-obsessed with his displays of unabashed and jaw-dropping muscularity and strength, would more than make up for the damage. Eugene was okay with it. He looked forward to reviewing those recordings at home on his computer later that evening. Of course first he would have to get in a handyman to repair damage to the changing room. Sam’s shift ended when Lee’s did. Their lockers were side by side. Sam made casual chat with Lee as they changed clothes, mostly about the damage the hulking bodybuilder had caused to the door. Then, more confidently, Sam asked Lee out for a drink, but Lee declined, much to Sam’s dismay. That was the first time the newbie had asked him out for a drink, and it further cemented in his mind that Sam might indeed be gay, given that he’d opted for the exposed button-fly version of the mens work pants, rather than the concealed fly. Feeling somewhat emboldened, Lee decided to raise the issue of Sam’s choice of work pants. “So you went for the sexier choice of work pants, just like the boss and me. I hope you’re not attempting to suck up to Eugene,” Lee joked as he slipped into a tee-shirt and running shorts. His uniform would need washing. It reeked of precum and sweat, otherwise he would have worn it home. The tee-shirt and shorts in his locker were just for emergencies. “Yeah, they’re pretty cool. I like how they look on me. A break from the norm eh?” Sam, despite being a bit chubby, was still quite good looking. Lee had hooked up with confident chubby guys before and they were pretty good in the sack, although Lee’s number one choice of guy would always be a bodybuilder. And Umberto has certainly raised the bar in that respect, only his bar was supporting a massive 1000 pounds for 12 reps at a time. Sam was the type that stripped both top and bottoms off at the same time, unashamed to be seen only in his tiny, sexy undies as he rummaged in his locker for his day clothes. He dropped his deodorant on the floor and gleefully bent down to retrieve it, careful to make sure that the luminous pink thong he wore was in full view of Lee. It divided his portly bubble butt nicely, the thin thong strap at the rear easily swallowed up by his cavernous crack. Being a bit on the short side, he made up for it in other ways. Lee felt his dick quivering excitedly in his shorts. But if Sam had anything planned from flirting with Lee, then it wasn’t happening in a locker room that reeked of bodybuilder muscle stink. Sam slipped into a pair of black Levis jeans cut short to his knees. His thighs were chunky and his hips a little too wide, but the jeans looked great on him. Especially the exposed button-fly front he’d created for himself with a pair of scissors. Lee almost shrieked with delight. Another recruit to club EBF, it seemed. Then Sam, growing bolder by the minute, pulled a stretchy ribbed sky blue tee-shirt out of his bag, only he’d snipped a good four inches off the bottom. It hung from his doughy chest as a crop top, stopping just above a navel encircled with fine blonde hair that darkened slightly to the beginning of a hot pubic line above the waistband of his jeans. Lee’s dick grew instantly hard. He liked crop tops, too, and resolved to start wearing them himself, provided the weather stayed warm and sunny. Lee found himself liking Sam more and more with each passing moment. That was when Sam leaned forward, having to stand on his tiptoes to reach Lee’s luscious lips. What had been a spontaneous superficial friend-to-friend peck on the lips soon saw the guys thrusting their tongues into each other’s mouths, tasting and probing for all they were worth. “Fuck going for a drink,” Lee gasped, much surprised by this sudden turn of events. He added: “You’re coming home with me.” And with a playful pat on his arse, Lee left Aldersons with Sam Wickham, not knowing where the evening would take them. PART 2 “You’re flat’s nice,” Sam said to Lee when they arrived at Lee’s place. It was just a two-roomer, with the bed, living and dining area all combined. A door led through to a bathroom barely big enough to shower, shave and take a leak in. That was it. Lee lived quite frugally and didn’t have a lot of clutter. But he had a big wardrobe full of clothes, and a chest of drawers for undies and socks and so forth. “It’s not much, but all I can afford on Aldersons wages,” he replied, almost bashfully. He liked how Sam had suddenly come out of his shell, but having had his load shot into the throat of the biggest bodybuilder he’d ever seen, Lee was feeling a little depleted. He also liked, however, that Sam had made such a spontaneous pass at him back in the changing room, although he couldn’t get Umberto out of his thoughts. “Yeah, I know the feeling. I live with my granny. She’s always drunk and breaking stuff, so I pretty much just stay in my room playing video games and leave her to her own business,” Sam said, inviting himself to sit down on Lee’s capacious queen-sized bed. “Mmmm… comfy. I wonder what fun we could have in this bed,” said Sam, forwardly. He made himself more comfortable by removing his crop top and unbuttoning the top button of his EBF denims. He rested his back against a pillow and placed one forearm behind his head. With his other hand he started to rub his crotch. Gaps appeared between his exposed button-fly as his dick thickened with chubbiness. Lee watched, interested, but wishing Sam had muscles as big as Umberto. But Sam was truly beautiful even though he was a bit on the overweight side. He wasn’t shy about being overweight, and loved to show off his puffy nipples that pushed out from light brown areolas. Lee wasn’t sure why he did what he did next, but reason and logic had decided to take the day off ever since Umberto came into their lives. “Here, sniff this. Breathe in his smell real deep, and tell me I wasn’t and still aren’t having some amazing dream,” said Lee. He didn’t remember putting it in the pocket of his shorts before leaving work earlier, but there it was: the panel of denim he’d removed from Umberto’s shorts, one of two souvenirs he would hopefully never part with. He tossed it towards Sam and it landed on his doughy gut near to his gorgeous treasure trail of darker pubes. “Oh I see what this is. I bet it smells amazing,” said Sam passing the denim strip across his nostrils like the way toffee-nosed types sniff a fine and expensive cigar. He drew in deeply, allowing the microscopic particles of Umberto’s bodybuilder muscle-stink to intoxicate his senses. His crotch swelled further and more visibly. Lee’s shorts began to tent outwards at the front. “Yum… I could sniff this all day. What exactly happened with you and the giant god of muscle-manliness earlier in Eugene’s office?” “He posed a lot, flexing his muscles and being a total alpha show-off. It was hard getting his shorts down past his massive thighs. And his dick was fucking huge. I think he was growing as he got more and more turned on. I eventually couldn’t keep my load in and when I shot it off he lifted me up in time to swallow the lot,” Lee explained. He reached into his bag for the tattered remains of the other souvenir, Umberto’s shirt that was barely a shirt when worn by a mountainous god. The flat soon reeked of come and sweat far stronger than the most hardcore bodybuilding gyms. Lee continued his account of earlier, and both guys grew more and more aroused: “He was too big to get through the changing room door because he wanted to see how the shorts looked on him, and you know the changing room has a full-length mirror. And you saw what he did to the door.” The tattered shirt was stinking so much now. It was strange, like it was getting stinkier and more arousingly pungent, although that was impossible, was it not? “Yeah he can’t be of this world, Lee. He simply can't be. Do you like how swollen my nipples look when I’m turned on?” There was no denying that Sam Wickham was looking more and more hot and pleasing to the eye with each passing minute. What the hell was going on? Had they somehow crossed over to a parallel universe, where massive bodybuilders that defied all physical laws lived and breathed and reigned superior over the mundane masses? “Your nips are amazing,” said Lee. He wanted to fuck Sam, now, but wasn’t sure if he was a top of a bottom. His arse was big and bubbly, if a bit flabby, but it would easily take all ten inches of Lee’s big, hungry cock. But before he could advance on the short, blonde stud, Sam was off the bed and across the room so as to grab Umberto’s shirty remains off Lee. “I wanna be your randy little Incredible Hulk,” Sam growled, and dressed up in the shredded shirt as best as its tattered flaps of cotton would allow. He looked stupid with it on, but neither of them cared. Lee formed an anxious look on his face as it suddenly occurred to him that Sam’s body odour might interfere with Umberto’s muscle-stink, and somehow change it. But what if it made the smell even better? “Mmmm the smell is amazing. I’d love to be a big bodybuilder and do insane things to you,” teased Sam, rubbing Umberto’s muscle stink into his soft skin. His nipples bulged more hugely, now, looking more like the fertile, nourishing nubs of a woman than of a hot young bloke. “We shouldn’t do this, Sam. I feel like we’re meddling in affairs we shouldn’t be,” Lee chewed his bottom lip to stop it from quivering. His ten incher was now at full mast, pushing out his shorts further and further. Umberto’s smell was almost choking their olfactory senses, but the pleasure of it was indescribable. “Oh man… bodybuilding… bodybuilding… body-fucking-building. I want it so much,” said Sam making muscle poses and growling like an adolescent in heat. Lee lost control and pushed Sam across the room. The intoxicated duo landed on the bed, with Lee and all of his six feet of lanky leanness lying on top of Sam. Lee kissed him forcibly, now also making angry noises as his horniness intensified. They rolled around on the bed, interchanging positions and getting more of the shirt stink on the duvet. The smell seemed to get stronger and stronger. Lee pinned down Sam’s hands and the blonde made no attempt to break free. His mouth and tongue hungrily explored Sam’s face and neck, before working down to his less manly-looking chest with its disproportionately large and suckable buds, which Lee tasted and found delicious. He released one of Sam’s hands so he could fondle his stomach, tracing down through his treasure trail to pop the buttons of his cut-offs and release Sam’s rod. Sam’s pudgy dick was already too extended and swollen for his skimpy thong to contain and it popped out and thickened with mass and throbbing veins. “I’m a grower, a fucking huge grower,” Sam gasped as Lee dropped to his knees so he could suck the precum off Sam’s beautiful cock. It was about seven inches hard, but it was also very thick, and it filled Lee’s mouth sufficiently. Lee sucked him off to a point where it seemed Sam would come in his mouth, but he had to taste more and more of him, especially his wonderfully fat, round balls that were already charging with lusty juices. “I want you so naked,” Lee snarled, pulling the tattered plaid shirt away from the short blonde stud. It was warm in the flat now, and the guys glistened with sweat from the effort of being so suddenly turned on by one another. Sam found the strength to flip away from the bed, simultaneously grabbing Lee and flinging him onto the bed. Now out of his clothes Lee’s super leanness seemed to compliment the chunkier Sam. “Wow, your cock is huge. It must be nine inches,” Sam marvelled. “It’s ten,” Lee gasped and his big dick twitched and pulsed with the energy of sexually-charged youth. “I’d love it to be over a foot long, though,” he added. “I want to be enormous all over,” Sam said, before taking all of Lee’s ten inches into his mouth until he almost gagged. He’d obviously done this thing before, and he deftly pleasured Lee’s big dick over and over. They now reeked of bodybuilder muscle-musk. It was heavenly. “Imagine my big nipples on bodybuilder pectorals,” Sam managed to murmur in between sucks. “Huge… get fucking huge, Sam. Make Umberto look small,” Lee pleaded as his lust rose to critical levels. They changed positions once more, with Sam lying with his back on the stinky bed. He arched his pelvis upward, and Lee caught his legs by the ankles and pushed, bringing Sam’s legs up and over and revealing his plump anus invitingly. “Put it in me,” Sam growled, and Lee was only too pleased to oblige. An arse as well-formed and capacious as Sam’s was simply made for a big dick. Lee wondered how many dicks had been caressed by that tight hole. Lee entered Sam, slowly at first, but then momentum increased and Lee was soon pounding Sam somewhat aggressively, not that Sam minded in the slightest. They fucked for what seemed like ages, Lee taking Sam repeatedly up his hole, and in other positions, too. Then they changed roles and Lee got to feel Sam’s chubby mass of manhood inside his modest anus. Both guys tasted each other’s jizz and they drank each other dry, with Sam’s larger balls producing way much more spurting spunk than Lee was capable of producing so soon after feeding it to Umberto Morelli. After several screaming orgasms, the boys collapsed on the big reeking bed, to reflect on the day that had been. Outside the sun began to set. “Fancy some takeout?” Lee suggested. Both lads had forgotten they had appetites, with food taking a back seat to other fancies. “Yeah, Pizza would be great. But we should take a shower first,” said Sam. “Nah, I don’t want us to lose Umberto’s stink. I forgot to tell you he just moved in across the street, into the warehouse apartment. He obviously needs a lot of space to live in. He’d never fit inside this place,” said Lee. “Wow, lucky you, living so close to him. Maybe he’ll let you play with his muscles once in a while,” Sam suggested. “That would be amazing. He really had an effect on me today. And then what we just did… I really wasn’t expecting that. Have you been with many guys, Sam?” “Um… just a few. I only came out a few months ago. My friends know. My granny doesn’t. My parents are divorced. Mum lives in Scotland, and Dad travels a lot for work. We mostly facetime. I don’t have any siblings. What about you?” Sam snuggled into sweaty Lee, liking how his skinny body looked so anatomical due to his lack of body fat. It contrasted his own doughiness quite nicely. “I moved here to be independent and gay. There’s not much to tell. Just boring stuff. But I like my life and I’m obsessed with exposed button-fly pants and jeans, and also, of course… massive bodybuilders.” Lee reached for his phone and to an app that would order them a big pizza and some fries they could share. While they waited, they cuddled and chatted further. “Yeah I only ever wear exposed button pants. And I love crop-tops, as you’ve already seen. I wished we lived back in the early seventies, when every second guy you’d pass on the street would be wearing EBFs,” Sam’s gaze seemed to look into the aether, as if drawn to a memory of years before they were born. “You know your stuff. It’s great having someone to share a rare fetish with, other than Eugene. I’ll make some crop-tops out of a few old shirts tomorrow. Maybe we could go clubbing in them,” Lee enthused. Just for fun Lee got up off the bed and dressed in Sam’s clothes. The crop-top was obviously swimming on him, and the jeans which Sam had cut to just above his knees ended halfway down his slender thighs. He buttoned up all of the buttons only to discover how loose the waistband was. “Heh, look at how loose they are around my waist, Sam. What waist size are you?” “Thirty-four. I know, I could lose a few pounds, or at least trim off some of the fat,” Sam patted his slight paunch proudly, causing his love handles to jiggle. “Haha, my bony waist is only twenty-eight. But watch this.” Lee turned to the side and put his arms behind his head. He took a few breaths and then sucked in his stomach as deeply as he could. “Holy shit,” said Sam, his eyes almost coming out on stalks. Lee’s stomach vacuum made his torso diminish in girth as though only a couple of inches existed between his spine and belly-button. “Just one of my party tricks. Maybe I’ll show you others,” Lee winked. Then he added: “Hey, let's have some fun when the pizza delivery guy arrives. I usually order from the same place. I got us a meat supreme. Rex is the delivery guy and he’s a hottie. Is it okay to remove the waistband from your EBFs? I promise it’ll make them look even sexier on you. More of that hot treasure trail on show, and you’ll still have the other four buttons down the front to show off.” Sam thought about it. “Yeah, go ahead. We can be all slutty with Rex when he arrives. Maybe he’ll want to hang out with us for a bit,” Sam winked mischievously. Lee went to work on the denims. It only took a minute to cut around the circumference of the jeans with his trusty scissors. “Here, try them on for me now,” Lee playfully ordered. Sam was only too keen to oblige. Lee opened his wardrobe inside of which was a full-length mirror attached to the door. “Wow, they look great. And my nipples are fully erect, too,” said Sam cheerily. Lee then rummaged around in his wardrobe and found a trashed pair of EBF cut-offs that were almost completely backless, save for a thong-strip seam at the back that was easily guzzled up by his crack. “Are these slutty enough, ya think?” said Lee with an impish wink. “So hot. I wonder if Rex will get all horned up by Umberto’s muscle-stink when he arrives and it hits him in the face?” The boys had gotten used to the smell, but it was still very present in the flat. It wasn’t too long before the doorbell sounded. “Pizza!” “Great, I’m famished,” said Sam, but Lee made a face. “Strange, that doesn’t sound like Rex. It’s a deeper voice,” said Lee. He looked through the peephole in the door. “Holy shit, wait until you see the size of this guy,” he whispered back to Sam who was admiring himself in front of the mirror. He really liked the no-waistband look. Lee excitedly opened the door, wearing only the slutty EBF thong that had originally been a full pair of jeans. The delivery guy was a hunk, and very well built, but nowhere near to matching Umberto for size and sheer muscle mass. The bodybuilder was bald, with slate grey eyes, handsome face finished by a trim black goatee. Lee thought he might have seen him in Aldersons once, which suggested he might lift at Gridiron. “That’ll be eighteen seventy, buddy,” he said handing over the food and Lee’s cock began to twitch as the bodybuilder’s eyes were drawn downward to what Lee was barely wearing. “Um, let me get my wallet. My shorts are so small they don’t have any pockets,” Lee teased, cursorily shooting a sly wink back at Sam. “I can see that,” the bodybuilding hunk replied, and then, somewhat boldly: “What’s the story with those anyway? Ever hear of zippers?” “Um, exposed button-fly is all the rage these days,” Lee lied, “and getting quite popular with bodybuilders, too. What do you think of them?” The bodybuilder just snorted something incomprehensible, although he had invited himself into the flat and nodded politely to Sam. “You’re a big fella, have you ever competed?” Sam asked. “Did a contest a while back. I placed seventh. I’m trying to bulk up to get heavy enough to train at Gridiron,” said the bodybuilder. He then glanced at his watch somewhat impatiently. “Ah right. We work at Aldersons supermarket right across the street from that gym. I thought I’d seen you in our store once before, and so reckoned you were already a member. We get a lot of bodybuilders in the store because we sell a lot of supplements and clothing for bodybuilders,” Lee went on. “I’ve been there once or twice. Strange dress code on the pants of the male staff,” said the bodybuilder. “Have you ever heard of Umberto Morelli? He came into the store today. He’s gigantic,” Lee just had to ask. “Yeah, I know of him. He’s freaky huge alright. I’d kill to be that size. Say, it smells like a gym in here. You guys been working out?” The bodybuilder warmed to them, slightly. “Well we were doing a workout, of sorts… on one another,” Sam teased, and groped a handful of his button-fly crotch. “So you two are gay? Easy to tell from your slutty gay shorts,” the bodybuilder laughed. “Here’s the money for the food. You’re welcome to stay and have some with us,” said Lee innocently enough. The bodybuilder considered the offer. “Well I was doing a favour for my brother. He owns the pizza parlour. Three of his delivery guys are off sick. Some bug going around. I haven’t eaten since my last protein shake. Fuck it, my brother’s a cunt anyway.” The bodybuilder made himself comfortable over in the dining corner of the flat. Lee only had two chairs and a formica table from which to eat. He hoped the chair wasn’t too uncomfortable for the muscle-man. “I’m Lee and this is Sam,” said Lee, happy to have another unplanned houseguest. “I’m John,” said the bodybuilder. He took off his jacket to reveal a tight red polo shirt painted over delicious muscles. At a glance Lee took him to be around two hundred and fifty pounds. He had bulging pecs and biceps and was definitely in his bulking phase as there weren’t too many veins-a-popping. “Nice to meet you John,” said Sam, lusting for the hunk. Lee got some plates for the pizza and fries. He indicated that Sam would take the other chair. Lee was content to stand. And so the impromptu threesome began to chow down. It so happened that Lee, never one for having a big appetite, managed just one slice of pizza and some fries. Sam managed three slices, whilst John finished off the rest of the food with gusto. He let out a long, loud belch of satisfaction and then patted his cobblestone belly. “This will count as my cheat meal for the week,” he decided. What he said next startled Sam who at this point had put his crop-top back on. Lee was content to stay shirtless in his trashy EBF thong shorts. John didn’t seem to mind. “You’ve got a decent bit of muscle on you, Sam. It looks good. How much do you bench? Those tits didn’t come from nowhere.” It was then Sam realised that somehow his body had changed. But how was that possible? “Um… huh?” Sam couldn’t respond properly at first. But Lee responded on his behalf. “Fuck, Sam… you… you’ve grown some muscle. Buh-but how?” Sure enough, beneath the crop top the beginning of abs and cum-gutters could now be seen. His waist seemed definitely trimmer. A couple of veins snaked around his forearms and small balls formed – where before his biceps were under a blanket of dough – as he bent and moved his arms. His crop-top tented out a little, caused by a chest that was definitely firmer and projected outward more than before. His jeans felt looser, and the cut-off ends were no longer just above his knees, rather an inch or so higher up his thighs than before. John seemed intrigued by Sam’s and Lee’s reactions. “Maybe it’s the smell… from the shirt. I wore the shirt. We rolled around on the bed in its muscle-musk. Could that be the reason this happened?” Sam removed his crop-top and went over to the mirror. He checked himself out in detail and couldn’t believe his eyes. His BMI had significantly lowered. He still had some fat, but not as much as before. He bounced his new pecs and squealed in delight. “But I got covered in that musk as well, so how come I’m as skinny as ever?” Lee seemed disappointed. Sure, he loved being a skinny twink with a big cock, and he’d failed to make bodybuilding a lifestyle in the past, but he wouldn’t have turned his nose up at some spontaneous “muscle-growth-without-effort”. What had happened to Sam was nothing short of a miracle. Wait, something felt different. Pressure had formed inside Lee’s slut-jeans-thong, of a kind he’d never felt so strongly before. The front of the shorts bulged obscenely, gaps appearing between the button-fly and tufts of pubic hair poking through. He ran half-panicking, half-excitedly to the bathroom and slammed the door. Sam looked at John and neither spoke. After a few seconds of silence: “FUCK!!!!” “What is it, Lee? Are you okay?” Sam checked out his lats in the mirror. They were small, but definitely there. He groped and twisted his body into all sorts of poses, trying to make his new muscles pop. Lee came back out into the living area, this time he was completely nude. His boner was at full mast, and… what a boner it was. It had to be at least a foot long. It seemed a little thicker to Sam than when he had it down his throat and up his arse earlier. “Um…er… Sam… go to the knife drawer and take out my ruler. I need to confirm this,” said Lee, excitedly, shaking a long, slender finger in the direction of the knife drawer by the sink. Even John the bodybuilder seemed impressed by the size of the twink’s schlong. The gym he currently attended had some gay exhibitionists in it, and they’d often get so horny after workouts, they’d be showing off their jewels in the shower and locker room as much as their muscle gains. He was used to that sort of thing. Sam rummaged for the ruler and gave it to Lee. Being so lean there were no mammoth pectorals obscuring his gaze as he looked down at the massive penis attached to so much trimness. He set the ruler along one side of his dick and was dumbstruck that it was shorter than the rigid shaft by at least three quarters of an inch. The dick had gained almost three inches in length. He gripped it in his hand and knew straight away that it had also thickened. Where he’d had a considerably above-average cock earlier, he now boasted a monster dick that would make a lot of porn stars sick with envy. “I’m fuckin’ huge,” he almost screamed. “Whatever you guys are on, I need the number of your supplier,” said John, completely into what was going on in the flat. What had started out as a shitty evening for him, had definitely become something that more than piqued his interest. He hadn’t been completely honest with Lee and Sam. Yes, his brother was down three delivery guys that evening, but John was working for him to help pay off a loan he owed him. John had fallen on hard times in his journey to become a huge bodybuilder, bigger than Umberto Morelli, having spent that loan on as many “get big as quickly as possible” methods in order to fuel and expedite his chosen lifestyle. He was unquestionably a bodybuilder to look at, but he seldom showed off his muscles because his chest, shoulders and back were covered in acne from the steroids. He also found it hard to get an erection, so any HGH and testosterone shots he could get via the black market was why he owed his brother close to ten grand. These two supermarket clerks seemed to have stumbled upon a muscle and cock growth miracle. And he wanted in. “We’re not entirely sure how this happened, John,” said Sam, now also nude in order to see if he’d had any growth elsewhere. Sure enough: “My dick’s bigger, too. I used to be seven inches hard, but I think I gained at least another inch.” The ruler confirmed he was now exactly eight inches with a rock-hard boner. His balls felt heavier, too. “Could it have anything to do with the muscle-cum-stink in here? I’ve delivered pizza to hundreds of addresses. I’ve delivered to other bodybuilders wanting their cheat meals after heavy workout sessions, and they answer the door wearing very little cuz they just had sex with their girlfriends or whatever, and never once have I smelt a scent like this, not even from other bodybuilders. So I’ll ask again… what shit are you two on?” Lee and Sam didn’t take kindly to John’s sudden change of mood (most likely a result of too much juicing). “We’re not on anything. Honest.” Lee was nervous now, as was Sam. John was a lot bigger and stronger than they were, and he was becoming aggressive. “I don’t fuckin’ believe you,” John snarled. And to emphasise his rising impatience, he picked up one of the kitchen chairs like it weighed nothing, and threw it across the room. It missed Sam by inches, and smashed into many pieces when it struck the wall over the headboard of Lee’s bed. Both Sam and Lee cringed in fright, losing their boners and fearing for their safety. Would they have time to make it to the fire escape? They’d never get past John to get to the front door. He had them trapped. John made a lunge for Lee, but he managed to jump onto the bed and then off again to get close to Sam near the wardrobe. The boys now held onto each other for dear life. John’s forward momentum caused him to land face down on the bed. He rolled sideways and landed on the floor with a loud grunt and heavy thud. He was momentarily dazed, giving the boys a chance to make it to the fire escape. Lee opened the window and clambered out first, intending to lend assistance to the bulkier, shorter Sam in case he had trouble getting out through the window. They hoped John was too bulky to pursue. But he didn’t follow them. What was going on? Had he cracked his head open when he rolled on to the floor? “Fuck, this is shit. We should never have ordered pizza,” said Lee as they cowered outside on the fire escape. Thank heavens it wasn’t winter time or they’d be freezing right now. Still, they trembled in fear, not knowing what would happen next. Then, after the longest, quietest minute in their lives: “Thanks guys. I think I found what I'm looking for. See ya around,” said John, his short-lived tantrum abated. They heard the front door slam. But they stayed out on the fire escape a little longer. They said nothing for about a minute. Sam bravely stuck his head through the window to make sure John had left. “He’s gone, I’m sure of it. We can go back inside now.” The boys got back inside and didn’t say much, as they were still a little shocked by how such an amazing day had been soiled by John’s behaviour. Sam set about clearing bits of broken chair off the bed. Finally, in order to break the awkward silence: “My granny has fold-up lawn chairs in her garage. I’ll bring one over tomorrow to replace this.” “Thanks,” Lee croaked. He decided to help Sam clear up the broken chair. Afterward the boys held each other close in bed. They played with each other’s changed anatomies for a little while, but neither were in the mood to do much. “Do you notice something different about the flat?” Sam asked, as Lee caressed his beginner pecs with something short of lusty enthusiasm. His nipples sat firmly on each delicious mound, bigger and more succulent than before. “Yeah, Umberto’s muscle-stink… can’t smell it so much any more. We were covered in the musk when we had all that sex earlier.” Lee pulled some duvet up to his nose and inhaled deeply. The smell was still there, but weakened compared to earlier. “That’s what must have made us grow. You wanted a bigger dick, and I wanted to be a huge bodybuilder. Our lust must have made our wishes come true, fuelled entirely by the shirt of a giant bodybuilder.” The boys looked at one another, their eyes blazing wide. “THE SHIRT!!!” They both cried in unison. They leapt out of bed and started a frantic search for the shirt. They couldn’t find it anywhere. “John must have found the shirt when he fell off the bed, and realised it has special properties. That’s what he meant when he said he’d found what he was looking for.” Sam’s “Eureka” moment was soon dragged down by a sinister undertow. “Well I had the shirt on, and much of my fat melted away to be replaced by at least ten to fifteen pounds of muscle. Do you have a scale here? I’d like to weigh myself,” Sam asked. “In the bathroom beside the toilet. I never use it. Don’t need to. It was here when I moved in,” Lee explained. Sam went to the bathroom, leaving the door open as he stepped on the scale. “One fifty three, down from one sixty eight last time I weighed myself. I definitely lost weight since this morning, but I’ve gained muscle. That’s impossible to achieve naturally in such a short span of time.” “As is me adding almost three inches to my erect penis. And if the shirt gave you muscles, and then I got a bigger dick from fucking you, maybe there is something of a chemical nature to the muscle-stink from the shirt, that could cause John to also transform himself.” Lee grew worried. Neither of them wanted a cunt like John to get any bigger by interacting with the shirt. “We need to get the shirt back, Lee,” said Sam. He had hoped he’d get to wear the shirt again – or at least sniff it – and grow his muscles even bigger. “I have an idea. But we’ll need help to ensure it goes smoothly.” Lee gave Sam an encouraging peck on the lips. The boys got dressed. It was approaching eleven o’ clock at night. Lee took Sam outside and gazed across an almost deserted Bridge Street road and to the warehouse apartment on the other side. With the upper front facing mostly glass, the apartment would get a lot of light during the day. And the boys were in luck. There were lights on inside, which meant one thing: “Umberto’s home,” said Lee with a reassuring smile. PART 3 Umberto scarcely had time to unpack, as he’d only just moved into his apartment the previous day. The former warehouse had been converted into a capacious dwelling, with plenty of living space, as well as storage space in the loft, and an open plan layout which meant his living space and personal gym would pretty much meld into one. Should he require help if he needed it, a few pec bounces, lat spreads, and double bis would easily have the local young men running towards him, heavy with lust for the massive muscle god. He loved bodybuilding. He loved living the life of a bodybuilding muscle-god. He loved to show off his muscles, and in turn have his muscles worshipped by as many guys as he could interact with and still do all the other things you needed to do just to get from one day to the next. Keith Doppler, who’d been buying groceries in Aldersons earlier that day, had decided to follow Umberto to see where he lived. From the second he laid eyes on the man-mountain, he was obsessed with him. He struggled to come to terms with his sexuality, even trying to live a bisexual lifestyle, so at least he could be into chicks as well as guys. But seeing Umberto Morelli for the first time, tipped the balance of his sexual preferences well and truly over the pink fence and into “Gayville” as a permanent resident. He behaved like a muscle-jock, even though he’d not played sports or worked out as much as he should have in several years. He still had more muscle than the average bloke, but he’d built a good bit of fat on top of the muscle. However, he still carried himself like an alpha jock if only to bolster his confidence and mask his insecurities. Umberto couldn’t have muscle-strutted into Aldersons at a more perfect moment. Seeing him altered something in Keith’s brain. He no longer wanted to be one who should be looked up to and envied for his physical prowess on and off the rugby field. He wanted Umberto all to himself, to serve him and worship him as a god. Umberto had walked the short distance home from Aldersons, basking in smug delight as he got so many stares from passers-by. His only clothing were, of course, his EBF denim cut-offs. He was huge, bigger than any bodybuilder the local townsfolk had ever seen in their lives. And he was only too willing to show off his gigantic muscles to the world. Being summer, it wasn’t quite dry enough for a hosepipe ban, and so Umberto beamed a conceited smile when he saw a hot teenager hosing down a Volkswagen Beetle in his driveway. The shirtless youth was dark-haired and really cute, if a little doughy around the middle. “Hey buddy, turn that hose my way. I need cooling off, and I’m dirty from my door-widening experience earlier,” he confidently hollered. The youth turned toward him and looked aghast with that “deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle” look that most people display when they see a massive bodybuilder. The youth’s shorts tented out instantly as his boner formed. But he was happy to oblige Umberto, and so turned the spray on the huge bodybuilder. “Heh heh, I can turn any guy gay just having them look at me,” he sniggered. He stood outside the youth’s driveway and did a full lat spread towards him. His muscle-bod heaved and hulked upwards and outwards and he pushed his pectorals up with such force, the bulbous, beefy shelves whacked off his chin. Thick striations – deep enough to lose half your fingers in – cracked across his chest. He sucked in his abdominals, making a deep and dark vacuum that made him look more enormous than ever. The cool water spray drenched his body, washing all of the dust off him. By now all of the lotion Lee had rubbed into him earlier had been completely absorbed, and so Umberto was pleased to be wet and glistening again. “That feels so good, kid,” said Umberto, doing a full turn so that he could flare out his back for the youth to faint at the sight of. Some distance away, Keith watched from behind a tree. He was in awe of Umberto. His boner throbbed uncomfortably in his boxers. “Bodybuilder, bodybuilding to be bodybuilt ‘cos he’s into bodybuilding his bodybuilder’s body,” Keith chanted as his lust intensified. Simply uttering the word “bodybuilding”, and its conjugations, was enough to get him turned on. He slipped one hand into his shorts, and tweaked one of his exposed nipples with the other. There weren’t many people around this time of the early evening, but he didn’t care. No one would even notice Keith and what he was doing with gigantic Umberto flexing magnificently just a few paces away. And so as Umberto enjoyed a free hose pipe shower, Keith continued to pleasure himself, his arousal intensifying with each incredible pose Umberto pulled his muscles into. That was when Keith lost his footing when one of his feet slipped off the pavement and onto the road. He lost his balance and fell flat, just as a stupid bitch texting on her phone – when she should have been watching her driving – bore down on Keith at speed and seemingly out of nowhere. Keith – suddenly realising what was happening – let out a scream that was a tad bit high-pitched for a buff dude in his mid-twenties and whose dad bod was gradually taking him over. Before dizzy-texting-bitch could slam on the brakes, the car came to a sudden stop, although the rear wheels were still turning at 45 miles per hour. Umberto, quick to react and save Keith’s life, held up the back of the car with one mighty arm. There was only a couple of inches between the front of the car and Keith’s head. It was all over in a flash, in which the driver of the car fainted with fright. Keith had also passed out, but not before seeing a huge, muscular shadow bear down upon him, after which there was just darkness and silence. When Keith came to he found himself indoors, lying on a couch which was surrounded by stacks of packing crates. He was surprised to find he was naked, although a thin sheet had been provided to him for the sake of modesty. The room reeked of the inside of a gym, only the musky odour was way more concentrated. He couldn’t help but inhale deeply. As he regained control of his senses, his surroundings came into sharper relief. Above him was an array of large windows and skylights arranged to let in lots of sunlight. He guessed it to be the apartment warehouse across the street from his flat complex. He wrapped the sheet around his waist as he gingerly got up off the couch. What was going on? Last thing he remembered he was starting to jerk off to the glorious sight of the most gorgeous and most muscular man he’d ever laid eyes on. The rest was a blur. Umberto walked up to him. He’d been in another room in his apartment. A friendly smile adorned his beautiful face, and his muscles rippled with every step he took toward Keith. He was out of his soaked EBFs now, and just wore red spandex knee-length shorts that laced up at the front. His junk was engorged hugely, making it impossible for him to lace them more than halfway up the crotch. His bulging thighs stretched the material to its limit, but it was his genitalia that almost burst it apart. “Welcome back to the waking world. Glad you don’t have a concussion. Well, you don’t seem to anyway,” said Umberto. In each hand he held a can of beer. He offered one to Keith, who took it appreciatively. “Whuh-what’s going on?” The sheet around Keith slipped away as his erection sprung from nowhere at the sight of the enormous bodybuilder. “You don’t remember what happened?” Umberto seemed somewhat surprised that Keith’s mind had blocked out the last hour. “I - I was falling… there was a car?” Keith shrugged his shoulders, unconcerned that he was naked in front of his saviour. “Good job I’m so fuckin’ strong, otherwise you’d be roadkill. I caught that car before it could run you over.” Umberto popped the tab of his beer and took a long swig. He popped up a bicep with the other and the mound of muscle bulged, huge and veined. “I guess I owe you my life. I don’t know how to thank you,” Keith said humbly. “Don’t worry about that. I don’t keep a tab on folks owing me shit. You’re just lucky I was nearby flexing my muscles and getting a free shower on this balmy evening.” Umberto crabbed into a most muscular pose and his body almost tore itself apart as he bulged with size and rock hard density. “This is the converted warehouse apartment on Bridge Street, yeah?” Umberto nodded, and then emptied his beer with another swig. “I live across the street, so I guess that’s lucky,” said Keith, grateful that he didn’t have far to get home, but he hoped he wouldn’t be leaving just yet. “Guess we’re neighbours then. I’m Umberto.” “Kuh-Keith,” said Keith, tentatively sipping his beer. “You have a nice body, Keith. You used to lift? I say ‘used’, ‘cos you look like you haven’t been hitting the weights lately. Once I’m all set up here I’ll have a gym you can use. I’ll leave out some little sissy weights for you. My weight, however… is stuff you could only dream of lifting.” Arrogance returning, Umberto flared into a lat spread that caused Keith’s cock to get even harder. “I played rugby back in college. I did a lot of weight-training but things haven’t been going too well for me lately. I work three jobs just to make the rent and pay off college loans from three years ago. I lost my job two weeks ago, so I’m sort of in the shits.” Keith almost shamefully bowed his head. He stared down at his erect six inches of aroused dick. “Hmm, it’s hard times we’re all living in. I do a lot of shit to make the rent and pay the bills. I’m supposed to be doing nude modelling this evening for a bunch of horny painters. I charge through the nose for my services. But fuck them, you need my intervention, Keith. Besides, I also do online muscle porn, but I charge a fucking fortune. If you set up my computer and cam for me, I’ll pump up with some free weights to get fucking huge for my audience. If you like you can oil me up and play with my muscles on cam. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.” Umberto moved closer to Keith and began to bounce his pecs. The globes of chest muscle were so huge and dense that flexing them actually caused a slight breeze to waft towards Keith’s face. “I… I’ve never been with a… man before,” Keith chewed his bottom lip, hoping it would stop quivering. “Heh heh, well I don’t really count, then. I’m not a man. I’m a god,” Umberto laughed and shot a double biceps pose that made Keith moan with lust and bring him to the verge of jizzing on the spot. A beeping sound from another room diverted both their attention. “Ah, your clothes should be dry now. You pissed yourself back when the car nearly hit you, so I took the liberty of washing your tank top and shorts. I admire a guy like you, who has a lifter's physique under a year or two of sedentary dough, but still manages to pull off a cut-off top and spandex shorts.” Umberto muscle-strutted off to fetch Keith his clothes. Keith just stood there, feeling like he was in the best dream of his life, but that he could wake up at any moment. Umberto came back less than two minutes later, and handed Keith his clothes. “Put them on, leave them off… I don’t mind either.” Then the god of utter and extreme muscular hypertrophy grinned impishly as an idea came to him. He’d thrown his wet EBFs into the dryer along with Keith’s clothes. They still stank of his muscle and testosterone musk, although some of it had passed into Keith’s clothes, hence diluting the stench somewhat. “Try on my sexy muscle slut shorts for size. They should be loose around your thighs and definitely you’ll have plenty of room in the crotch, but the waist might actually be a little tight on you, even though the waistband is missing. I’ve been customising the shit out of these. I wear them in the gym, out doing cardio shit, shopping etcetera. Kinda kinks me out to see them on other guys, no matter how bulked or average they are.” If Umberto had meant to offend Keith, then it was purely for sexy fun. Keith accepted the shorts from the bodybuilder as he felt his lust augmenting. He’d never been with a man before, much less play dressing up with a consenting other. But the shorts smelt nice, as nice as his own clothes the shorts had shared a dryer with. Keith wasn’t in any position to deny Umberto his fun, and so he stepped into the shorts and drew them up his legs and to his waist. They went up like a breeze and Keith was able to button up all but the top button. His abdominal lard wouldn’t allow a full buttoning, and it jiggled as he struggled to get the last one fastened. They were very loose around his thighs and in the crotch. Still though: “Not bad on you, Keith. Maybe the bodybuilding bug will bite you and you can grow and grow and grow. Maybe one day you could be as big as me,” Umberto boasted. He flared out his lats and rolled his deltoids forcing out more size and rock hard magnificence. “What’s with the buttons? You cut away the front panel that conceals them. Kinda interesting. Slutty, yes… very gay, though,” Keith said, regarding the button-fly in a “not sure if I like this” kind of way. “Actually, I didn’t do that part. That was Lee from the supermarket. We were in his manager’s office. I swallowed his cum as a thank you. Huge dick for a skinny bloke. He’s such boyfriend material though. Crazy huh?” Umberto played with his nipples, forcing them to swell to three times their size. “Lee Fordham? He’s my neighbour. I have the flat two floors above his,” said Keith, suddenly remembering that every time he saw his neighbour coming and going, Lee always wore exposed button-fly pants. Obviously Umberto had a kink for that as well. “Yeh, he’s such a hot young twink. I’m taking him out on a date tomorrow, just me and him.” Keith's heart sank. His skinny neighbour had all the luck. Then again, Keith was in Umberto’s apartment, so in that respect he’d gotten his foot in the door first. “Can I take these off now? I’d feel more comfortable in my own clothes when setting up your computer,” said Keith, hoping not to offend the gigantic muscle man. “Yeah, probably a good idea, Keith. Here, give them back to me so I can stink them up again during my workout before we make a porno together for my millions of online adoring fans,” Umberto said with a wink. Keith couldn’t believe his ears. Was Umberto’s intentions for Keith’s benefit? It seemed so. “I… I don’t know what to say. I’m not very experienced, um… what exactly will we be doing on cam?” “Anything you fucking like, sexy man,” beamed Umberto, before strutting over to his rack of weights to pump himself up. “GOTTA GET HUGE!!!!!” He roared, beating his pecs with his fists King Kong style. Keith almost blew a load there and then. “There’s a crate somewhere marked “Nerd Stuff”. Laptop and cam shit is in it.” Keith walked in amongst the crates. He eventually found the right crate on the other side of the spacious dwelling, on top of Umberto’s king size bed. Keith noticed cement blocks underneath the bed to reinforce it. The bodybuilder obviously intended to grow much bigger, so everything had to be reinforced. Over in the gym part of the apartment Umberto heaved and grunted as he got his pump on. There was a desk upon which to place the laptop. Also in the crate was a digicam with microphone and extendable tripod. But as Keith unpacked, he knocked the crate off the bed with the tripod and it tipped over, spewing packing foam nuggets across the floor. “Shit, could I be any clumsier today?” He bent down to pick up the nuggets. Something caught his eye. It was a small ziploc bag containing several greenish-white pills. His curiosity piqued, Keith opened the bag and immediately the strong smell of Umberto’s muscle-musk bodybuilder stink assaulted him. Thinking Umberto was onto him and came over to intervene, Keith looked over his shoulder and saw the giant over at his weights pumping up his muscles and encouraging himself with “Aww fuck yeah!s” in order to bolster more growth. “The smell is coming from the pills,” Keith said quietly. Never in his life had he come across pills that smelled so strongly of pure manliness to the level Umberto exuded. It occurred to him that maybe Umberto didn’t even know the pills had somehow gotten into the packing crate labelled “Nerd Stuff”. Unable to help himself, Keith sealed the bag and slipped it into his denim shorts. it was dishonest of him to do this, given that Umberto had saved his life earlier. But the compulsion was so strong. He put it down to the overwhelming effect being around Umberto was having on him. When the laptop and camera were set up, Keith gingerly approached Umberto to watch him lift and curl. He was curling 550 pounds with each dumbbell. He was glistening with sweat and there wasn’t a vein on his body that wasn’t popping to the point of rupturing. Keith’s eyes nearly came out on stalks. His chubby boner intensified and he felt his balls tingling as they swelled up. “These weights are getting so fucking light. I’m getting stronger by the day, it seems,” Umberto grunted, although realistically the grunting was just for show, as he could’ve lifted much heavier. But his new weights were on order and he’d have to wait a little longer. Lifting at Gridiron was also only for show. The heaviest weights and machine settings felt amateurish to him now. Still though, he did plenty of sets, and so this way maximised his workout as best he could. When he was done pumping his muscles, Umberto checked himself out in a large mirror he’d set up along one of the walls. Keith had to do a double-take when the bodybuilder made a double biceps pose and it seemed like his arms were swelling larger than ever. He changed to a side chest pose causing deep striations to Tsunami across his mega-plump pectorals. Most of his neck and a little of his chin was gobbled up by the heaving bust. His face was stony and emotionless for a moment, until he scowled and blasted a most muscular, squeezing as much blood and testosterone into his muscles as if by force of will alone. “GROW FUCKING GROW!!!!” he chanted. Keith groaned as his lust level shot up. His cock leapt around in his shorts. Umberto oozed more of his signature muscle-stink. Keith drew it in deeply and savoured it. It was like he was smoking a joint, only it felt way better. He briefly thought about the pills again. Could there be a connection? He thought about whenever he’d eat anything with garlic in it, he could smell it in his socks the next day. Now he was thinking about food, and he heard his stomach rumble. Umberto stopped posing, having heard Keith’s noisy churning insides. “Fuck, I never offered you something to eat. You must be starving. I’m starving as well. We can’t do porn on empty stomachs.” In the kitchen Umberto opened the huge American-style fridge. It mostly contained milk, eggs, leftover takeout, some cold fried chicken drumsticks, and several containers of protein shakes ranging from chocolate and vanilla to strawberry. He peeled the clingfilm away from the plate of chicken, and took a sniff. “Phew… we won’t be eating those, they’re off.” But the milk was good and there were plenty of eggs. He rummaged around a little and found some dried parmesan in a container at the back. “I’ll whip us up some omelettes. My Sicilian grandmother taught me a thing or two about Italian cooking. But first…” Umberto took out a container of protein shake and scarfed it down in one impressive gulp. He poured some into a glass for Keith, who was only too keen to accept it. Then Umberto opened a drawer and took out a small ziploc bag identical to the one Keith had found amongst the spilled polystyrene from the crate. He popped into his mouth what seemed to be the last greenish-white pill from the bag and washed it down with more protein shake. Almost immediately Umberto’s muscle-stink intensified to an eye-watering level. “Um… what was the pill, some kind of growth supplement?” Keith hoped he hadn’t crossed a line with Umberto that might set him off in a mood other than hospitable. “For my allergies, nothing more. I must order a refill,” Umberto seemed happy enough to explain. So he won’t miss the bag I swiped. Allergies my arse, Keith thought to himself. What happened next blew Keith Doppler’s mind. Umberto closed his eyes and started drawing in deep lungfuls of air. Keith had to rub his eyes against the now visible miasma of musk rippling out of Umberto’s skin like the heat haze from sun-scorched tarmac. Every muscle on his body started to ripple also, but not as though they were flexing into the forms they had been moulded to. This was more. This was growth. Spontaneous, mind-blowing muscle-growth. Umberto grew bigger right before Keith’s astonished eyes. His naturally golden bronze skin flared red as every blood vessel was flooded with a hypertrophic elixir that caused every muscle to inflate larger than before. But how could his muscles get any larger when there was little room left for them to grow and expand? They already hulked out of every inch of his titanic frame. How could they get bigger? All reason relative to this left Keith’s mind as his lust for muscle-growth in bodybuilders underwent its own growth. Umberto’s upper body bulged obscenely with extra muscle mass, specifically his already massive pecs just ballooned more and more massively. They inched out further than before, wider, becoming more deeply lined and striated. The upper pecs surged upward, gorging on the little free space Umberto had between them and his granite jawline. He smirked a manly smirk of utmost satisfaction and his eyes appeared to be glazed over, as if the transformation had him enthralled by its initiation. Keith was rock hard, now, and so he had to release his manhood. Being a hefty lad himself, at 220+ pounds and standing six feet two inches, he was still tiny compared to Umberto, but his erection didn’t go very far for him. He wished constantly for a massive penis, but had to make the most of what he had. Still, he’d not had a wank since the previous evening, so there was quite a build-up of jizz in his gonads. He began rubbing his dick, feeling the moist precum already lubricating his glans. Umberto’s pecs blossomed hugely, impossible to tell how many extra inches they were adding to his chest. Like the pecs they depended from, his juicy nipples gobbled up the growth energy surging through him, and they grew to three times their size. Incredibly the nipple rings couldn’t deal with the pressure of expanding muscle nubs, and so they simply snapped apart, sending small pieces of gold flying. One piece hit Keith’s cheek, but he barely noticed as his lust rose feverishly. “AW FUCK!!! I’M GETTING HUGE! HUUUUGE!!” Umberto felt his traps expanding, hulking upwards to the point where they actually pushed against his earlobes. Veins erupted all over them, cracking across his shoulders which got wider and wider. His deltoids fumed with mass, rippling and rolling into segmented globes of extreme masculinity. His lats widened further, the delta spread pushing out his arms which fought against the onslaught by bulging more thickly than before. His biceps grew savagely, swelling larger than his head, but still they had to get bigger. Massive horseshoes erupted from the backs of his arms, as his triceps, too, underwent a mammoth transformation. His forearms thickened considerably, pushing out bigger, thicker, and more abundant snaking veins that throbbed with unnatural, godly energy. His waist, in contrast, grew a little narrower as his abdominal brickwork shifted and compacted, expanding, however with size and definition whilst simultaneously tightening up and shaving a whole inch off his waistline. His intercostals burst out further, deepening into fish-scale knots of extremely hard muscle tissue. His shoulder-to-waist ratio increased to an astonishingly beautiful level. He pushed out a full last spread and the lats flared so huge that there was no free space between the lats and his arms, turning his upper body into one huge wall of still-expanding muscle. He was able to heave his pecs up even higher, and he needed to bend his head backwards at his sinewy tree trunk neck to give them room to grow. From Keith’s viewpoint, he could now only see the tip of Umberto’s nose over the titanic horizon of those gorgeous, guzzling globes. Downstairs there was also growth, with Umberto’s hulking junk expanding in size, length and girth, gaining ponderous mass and weight. His balls grew to the size of cantaloupes, and his member thickened and lengthened, flaring red and then purple as the partly laced-up shorts couldn’t bear the strain. From behind, his gluteus muscles thickened, pushed out further, and widened, adding even greater distress to the spandex that struggled to contain all this extra flesh. But they couldn’t. The shorts tore apart, the laces at the front snapped, and several pounds of man junk spilled outward and upward. Umberto was so engrossed in this experience that his boner went instantly rock hard, his dick slamming into his abs wall with a mighty thump. His quads and hamstrings also thickened, with new tissue forming between his muscle fibres, forcing them apart, and allowing extra muscle tissue to form. Likewise, below his knees, his calves thickened and widened, splattered with cuts and veins. He flexed them and they grew to the size of bowling balls. He turned around, knowing Keith would want to see his transformation from behind. His V-taper from behind looked even more spectacular, and Umberto struggled to get his two fists into the proper positions on either side of his waist so that he could belt out the biggest lat spread he’d ever performed. He would have to grow used to overcoming any restrictions of movement affected by his now bigger muscles. But hey, it was all about tasting the sour and the sweet, right? His traps from the back bulged hugely, forming pec-like structures of their own, and making his neck seem to disappear altogether. As he unknotted his muscles by fanning out his back, the spread was insanely enormous. It would be difficult for him to get through a lot of doors from this point forward. With the spandex shorts finally exploding away from him, Umberto was completely nude. He tensed his arse muscles against each other, and deep cuts cracked and rippled across them. He brought up his arms in a double biceps and titanic peaks pushed upward, higher than his fists. At this point Keith lost it, and he shot a sizable gobbet of spunk with enough force to splatter Umberto’s butt. Some of it went in between the hyper-muscled cheeks, moistening the entrance to his hole. “Uunnghhhh,” Keith was in the throes of orgasm, his entire body shuddering with the effort. His growth now slowing considerably, Umberto turned around again to face his guest and hoped to squeeze a little more growth out of his muscles before the transformation ended. He growled and screamed and ordered his body to flex into the biggest most muscular of his life. A couple more inches burst out of his biceps, actually denting deeply into the sides of his pecs, and they, in turn, bulged more outwardly, forced to do so by the amazing pressure the pose applied to them. Many more pounds of muscle bulged out of him, but soon halted altogether. With the breath almost gone from him, Umberto paused to catch it once more. His body glistened with sweat from the effort of holding in his jizz during the metamorphosis, which only he knew at this point was what helped him to attain more growth. Releasing too soon, and the growth process would be less dynamic, resulting in less growth. But he’d had these growth spurts several times now, and he’d learned to execute great control over his libido. He closed his eyes, seeming to meditate for a couple of minutes. Then he relaxed his muscles (although they still looked insanely pumped even when he wasn’t flexing). A serene composure now replaced his previous enragement and cocky demeanour. Silence pervaded. Keith with his shorts down around his ankles, stood looking at Umberto, his six-incher refusing to go back to a flaccid state. “Whuh-what just happened? You… you’re HUGE!!!!” Keith’s question and exclamation came out as a series of gasps. The orgasm caused by watching a gigantic bodybuilder grow even larger left him spent. But muscle-growth is not meant to happen this way. Keith thought about the pills he’d swiped. They were in his shorts pocket. He stooped to pull back up the pants. Umberto immediately went to the fridge to get another protein shake. He decided Keith deserved an explanation. He’d never grown to a spectator present before, not even on cam or during his modelling work for the artists. “About six months ago, I didn’t look like this.” Umberto paused to drink the rest of the shake. He chose his next words carefully. “I had a physique quite similar to yours, only… with less muscle mass under the fat than what you have.” He paused again, this time to let Keith process what he was hearing. Keith began to shake his head in order to punctuate his sheer disbelief. “You did all this in just six months? And just now, right in front of me you look like you added another hundred pounds, maybe more. This happened right after you swallowed your so-called ‘allergy’ pill.” “A hundred pounds? Hmm, feels like more. Let me look at myself in the mirror.” Umberto muscle-waddled across the apartment to his gym area, finding his gait somewhat awkward as his even thicker thighs rolled and jostled against each other in an effort to propel him. When he saw his reflection in the mirror: “Dayum! Looks like a lot more than a hundred pounds this time.” He made a full lat spread and two huge globes of pec meat ballooned and bulged obscenely. His entire upper body bulged hugely. It was actually difficult for him to fully take in his size holding this pose because of having to bend his head back at the neck every time in order to give his pecs enough room. “Jeezus H, I’m enormous. Truly fucking HUGE!” Keith stood next to him and both gazed in awe at their reflections. Umberto was three inches taller than Keith, but he now probably outweighed him by a good five hundred pounds, maybe more. The contrast between their physiques was staggering. “How is this possible?” Keith was stuck for something further to say. Even though he’d shot a big load, his dick was getting aroused once again. It was impossible to stay flaccid when in the company of a muscle god. “I work lots of jobs. My body gets me a lot of attention. It started six months ago when I had a growth spurt overnight. The day before my eighteenth birthday. I sup—” “Wait, you’re only EIGHTEEN?” Keith interjected, convinced Umberto was at least in his late twenties. He was so huge and masculine, his goatee perfectly sculpted, still young-looking facially, but he looked nothing like a teenager. “Well, eighteen and a half now, I suppose. I know, I look a lot older, but in a good way, of course. It’s my condition.” Umberto bounced his pecs and appeared in awe of their extra weight. It was a chore to get his hands up to caress them, due to his new, larger biceps pushing against his even heftier forearms. Simply bringing his hand up to attempt this caused biceps, pecs, and forearms to collide. It was an amazing feeling, as though the muscles might force each other to explode at any moment. “Wonder what happened to my nipple rings. I’ll have to look around for them. Probably need bigger, stronger ones now though.” Then Keith remembered they were destroyed, pushed apart by burgeoning nipples hungry to get longer, thicker, and more succulent. He felt the mark where the piece of gold had struck his face. Thankfully no blood had been drawn. “Your condition? You mean, your allergy?” “I was born with metazeniosis. It’s a man-made condition. My father took part in a hush hush military experiment over twenty years ago, but it was deemed a failure. Being Italian he was selected from about fifty candidates. There needed to be a lot of genetic diversity in the candidates, and so young, fit men were selected from all over the world. “But the experiment failed. It was meant to make the men into supermen, a new breed of soldier with physical enhancements beyond what nature could provide. But it didn't work. The test subjects didn’t respond to the treatments. All research on the project was destroyed, and records erased. The only knowledge remaining was in the mind of the lead scientist, Cyrus Redfern, who years later – or rather because of what happened later – was forced to further his research, this time without any ties to the military. “Not all of the candidates went on to father children, but over half did. I was one of the children born with the enhancements denied my father and his generation. The metazenic chromosomes I was born with should have kick started my muscle-growth from the onset of puberty. I was something of a late bloomer. The ones that this happened to at the right time were at the beginning of puberty, and so their growth was greatly helped along by so much growth hormone coursing through their veins. This helped them get huge from an earlier age, and to grow a lot taller, too.” Umberto now carried himself with a calm demeanour. He could think more clearly when not cocky and self-obsessed. It appeared that Umberto had a reserved side to him, in stark contrast to the alpha male arrogance he displayed when showing off his muscles, pumping the weights, and achieving spontaneous growth spurts. He continued: “We’re all pretty tall in my family. My dad is about the same height as you. I was six one when the first growth spurt happened, but I guess at eighteen, puberty had pretty much finished doing a number on me, although I did gain about four inches in height. But I haven’t grown any taller since.” Umberto went quiet to allow Keith to keep up with his amazing revelation. He had planned to tell all this to Lee over dinner tomorrow, but Keith reminded him a lot of himself before the muscle-growth. It seemed fate had intervened, coaxing him to reveal his big secret to another. “So there are others like you, all around the world?” It was the most incredible thing to observe Umberto’s ability, and even more incredible to learn how it came to be. He thought again about the pills. If Umberto was born with this condition, then what did the pills do? “Yep, about forty or so, as some of them will not have entered puberty yet. Not all of our dads fathered kids at the same time. I’m the only one in this country though, although I spent some of my younger years growing up in Turin. But bodybuilders here are getting bigger over time anyway. More and more crazy shit, like HGH boosters, and myostatin blockers, are circulating under counters and on the web. It’s a dangerous journey for a bodybuilder to take, but the desire to grow often overtakes the risks. “I won’t bore you with too many details. The rest is kinda boring. The lead scientist came into a fortune and used it to further his research into the condition, even enhancing it to make men bodybuild to even greater sizes with and without effort. I prefer a mixture of both. In order to track us down, the Redfern Institute now running the program set up special gyms all over the world to attract the biggest, most muscular bodybuilders on the planet. A bit controversial, in that you have to be at least two eighty in weight to get accepted as a member. “Of course, metazenic bodybuilders such as myself were attracted to these places like moths to UV lamps. You have one right here in town.” “Gridiron,” Keith again interjected, wishing that one day he could be big enough to lift there. “Yeah,” Umberto nodded, “It’s a bit controversial ‘cos it can be seen as discriminatory, I guess. Originally the membership minimum weight requirement was four hundred pounds, but they gradually lowered it, giving ordinary bodybuilders the chance to get big enough to join.” “Sounds like a smokescreen to something sinister,” Keith offered as commentary. “It’s not sinister at all. Just a company trying to right the wrongs of its past. We’re no longer being created to fight on battlefields. Our muscle-growth has tremendous medical applications. The institute is looking into eradicating many diseases, like muscular dystrophy and other wasting conditions.” Keith nodded in favour of such terrible diseases finally getting cured. But he had a myriad of questions he wanted answers to. They all swirled around in his head, giving him a mild headache. “So what’s your allergy that has you taking pills, which you seem to have run out of?” Keith thought about pretending to find a pill on the floor and offering it to Umberto, to see if it would trigger further muscle-growth. “Well, it’s not an allergy in the truest sense of the word. But they help maintain a certain balance when I grow. All the other metazenic bodybuilders continue to grow taller as they gain muscle mass. It means that they maintain the same proportions as regular bodybuilders, just that they look larger. There are a few that have even exceeded eight feet in height, but their muscle mass is proportionate to, say, a super-heavyweight Mister Olympia contestant. “But I don’t grow taller. So the pills were specially developed to help regulate the growth process so I don’t fill out in the wrong places as my muscles continue to grow. Without them I could end up being wider than I am tall, and I’d probably be unable to move.” “So what triggered the growth spurt after you popped the pill?” “I felt it coming on. They can happen sometimes if my testosterone levels get too high. Also by swallowing other men’s cum. It kinda mixes with my own and can trigger a growth spurt. They mostly happen after a workout and when I’m sleeping, but I guess this one was a mixture of a couple of things. I shot a huge load in the showers over at Gridiron earlier, then later swallowed Lee’s load. The Redfern Institute believes I can sometimes trigger muscle-growth just by thinking about it. I dunno,” Umberto shrugged. His delts and traps heaved with size and power. “Plus I kinda like having you here watching me pump up, ‘cos I sense how you envy my body and would kill to have one like mine.” “Wow, I – I don’t know what to say, Umberto. Was I that obvious?” “Heh, you can see in your eyes your lust for muscle is so strong. I always dreamed of being a bodybuilder, ever since I was a kid. I guess my enhanced genetics gave me that longing from early on. I started lifting weights at fourteen, hoping it would trigger puberty, but I’d usually drop the weights after a few dismal minutes, in favour of my game controller. So I was something of a doughboy myself.” Umberto leaned forward to playfully pat Keith’s spongy gut, causing the smaller man to reflexively step back a little. “Sorry, I er… wasn’t expecting you to do that, Umberto,” Keith said, sheepishly. “It’s okay, as you can see, I’m calmer now. After a growth spurt as great as this one, I usually leave the alpha male cockiness behind for a while, although it can come back at any time. It’s just… my muscles get me so aroused. Then it kicks in again.” Umberto resolved to learn better self-control from now on. Keith needed to know more: “About the pills; when you swallowed that last one your body started giving off a haze, like sweat evaporating quickly. And the smell of it was sensational. Your muscle musk is beyond intoxicating.” Keith had gotten the same smell from the bag of pills he’d found when he spilled the packing crate earlier. Was Umberto even aware of this? How could he know the pills gave off the same reek as he did if he was constantly producing it himself? “Yeah, it drives most men crazy, heh heh. Doesn’t affect women though, but I’m gay anyway, so I really couldn’t give a fuck about women. I don’t have any female friends. I have two sisters though, both back in Italy. They’re nurses. We get on okay. I’ve always been open to them about my growth. They know it’s not my fault.” Umberto made his pectorals dance for fun. He loved how much heavier they felt as they hung over his impressive eight-pack, casting crescent shadows over the top four bricks. “So the pills, in a way, do enhance your growth. Would they work on a man who doesn’t have your ability?” Keith was dying to know this. Would the pills work on him? Could they give him the body of his dreams? “Um… maybe, a little. I dunno really. I’m not au fait with much of the science behind it. I did see Redfern do a trial on them a couple of months ago. I go there once a month for check-ups to make sure there are no abnormalities with my growth, and/or negative reactions to the meds. “But with regard to the trial, the results were hardly anything better than a steroid cycle. Some men grew about ten pounds of muscle and also lost body fat in the space of a few days. But the pills aren’t meant to be taken altogether by men that were born normal. You need to only take one every seven days. I have to take one every night, in case I have an uncontrollable growth spurt in my sleep and wake up wider than my bed. I can also take one when I feel a growth spurt coming on just like the one I took in front of you. Which reminds me, I need to get more pills couriered over from the Institute a.s.a.p. I thought I had another bag of them, but they got lost in the move.” Umberto half-strutted, half-waddled, over to his phone to speed-dial The Redfern Institute. Keith tried to hide his excitement. So the pills COULD make him grow muscle. If he was careful not to overdo it, he could finally increase his lean muscle mass as well as burn off his stubborn reserves of fat. Umberto believed the bag to be lost, so he wouldn’t miss them. Keith thought about popping one right now. But he decided to wait until he was home by himself in his flat. Besides, wasn’t there gonna be some porn later? He’d lost all track of time. He looked up at the skylight windows. Dusk approached, as the sun worked its way to the west and was beginning to set. It had been a day Keith wouldn’t soon forget, if ever. As for the evening, well… *** John the bodybuilder stood in front of his full-length mirror fixed to the back of his bathroom door. Like the rest of his shitty apartment the bathroom was dingy and even foul in places. He wasn’t big on cleaning, and really only slept there when he wasn’t working or going to the gym, which suited the cockroaches perfectly. He was completely naked so that he could survey what hard work and too much juicing had done to his body. He still looked good, or so he thought. Women still “digged” him, and he had no problem getting all the pussy he needed. The problem was, thanks to steroid abuse, he needed help ‘getting it up’. Thirty years old and needing Viagra. What a joke his life had become. He was massively in debt, working for his cunt brother, and to top it off, his acne was spreading as fast as his testicles were shrinking. His pecs had developed gynecomastia, and that bothered him even more. He reached for the tattered remnant of Umberto Morelli’s shirt and inhaled its musky odour. He snorted the shirt like he sometimes snorted coke. The odour worked its way into his system, the effect of which actually made his eyes water. How could a garment hold such a strong smell? He’d heard of Umberto Morelli, but never met him or saw him in the flesh. There were plenty of pics of him on the internet, though, but 99 percent of the comments they got were from sceptics who believed the pics to be morphed. But the shirt told a story to John via his senses, and so he smelt it again and again. It was intoxicating. It was the smell of a bodybuilder, possibly the most densely muscled bodybuilder to ever exist. It was the smell of lifting hundreds of pounds of weight thousands of times; it exuded the essence of a man determined to grow bigger and bigger. His sweat screamed of this desire. His musk radiated determination at its most masculine. His testosterone quadrupled the strength of the man-stink. And it also reeked of his spunk, and, most likely, that of other Gridiron members. Lesser bodybuilders compared to Umberto, but still huge men in their own right if John were to compare himself to them. How many of these demi-gods had splashed the shirt with their own essences as they whacked off uncontrollably to the beat of Umberto Morelli pumping himself up in their gym? How much of their own sweat had rubbed off on the shirt whenever the god brushed past them as he moved about the gym on his insatiable journey of growth and power? Every day Umberto would pump up larger and stronger as he broke his records from the previous day surrounded by awestruck muscle-men who could only dream of even reaching half the size of the monster muscle-god. The shirt told all of this to John through touch and smell alone. It had transcended the mundane, no longer a piece of sweat-sodden fabric to be discarded and forgotten. It was a tapestry of power at its most primal and unsophisticated. It could absorb freakish, bodybuilding masculinity as readily as it could exude it. In this way it almost felt like it had a lifeforce of its own. The smell overwhelmed John, and so he feverishly rubbed the shirt across his chest. For the first time in ages, his dick started hardening without the need of medication. He grew more excited as his arousal intensified. John kept rubbing the shirt harder and harder into his chest until the acne pimples mottling his pecs began to ooze. He didn’t care; he was so turned on now. He continued to salve himself with the shirt using his left hand. He used his right hand to masturbate, something he hadn’t done since the steroids determined he couldn’t without a lot of help. He thought about being the biggest and strongest bodybuilder ever to exist, and this only made his arousal much greater. Before he could stop himself, he messed up all over his abs as he shot a torrent of jizz out of his hitherto near-stagnant prick. The air in the room was now saturated with Umberto’s muscle-musk, making it hard to breathe. The wank had winded him, and so John reached for his asthma inhaler, something he’d been using since childhood. It was after midnight when he got into bed, and it didn’t take long for him to settle. He was soon asleep, the chequered remains of a blue, navy and white shirt lying across his imperfect pecs.
  15. FallenAway

    The Shortcut by LORUS

    Once again, with the author's permission, I am reposting a story he wrote for the old forum and later deleted. Fortunately, I saved a copy. This was probably written around 2007, so when dates are mentioned in the story, remember that those were all in the future when it was written. Short Cut by LORUS Part 1 There was no other way out of the bunker. I knew that if I were ever to see the light of day again, I would have to get bigger. The walls were six feet thick, concrete reinforced with tungsten girders. A hundred elephants might be able to do it, or else one of me... Todd Emery, world’s strongest muscleman. But not strong enough. Not yet anyway. I was going to have to bodybuild my way out. It was all that I knew how to do. Let me put this into context, although words were never my forty... or is it forte? Who cares? Professor Maximillian LeStrange, for all that he looked and behaved like some Bond-esque megalomanic, was an okay fellah. We all knew that the bombs were dropping. It was 2012, the year that the Mayan calendar ran out, that the mysterious Planet Nibiru (or Planet X) was purported to be entering the solar system once again on its 12,000 year cyclic rotation, passing close enough to the sun to cause a massive solar flare to burn up the Earth’s atmosphere and set the planet’s poles to utter reversion, the same year that the antichrist would be revealed (my money’s still on Joan Rivers) ... et cetera et cetera. I never believed any of that crap. I can’t recall who was to blame, really, North Korea or a trigger-happy dissident hothead from behind the Chinese Curtain who happened to get his hands on some very nasty nuclear launch codes. Whatever caused it, the world ended on December 19th, 2012, five years ago this very week. And thanks to Professor LeStrange one Todd Emery survived. The bunker had been one of several the billionaire scientist had had commissioned in private, part of his ADAM Utopia Initiative. It was his way of preserving all that was great about the human race. In one bunker there would be females for breeding stock purposes, mostly lesbians, but stay with me on this. Maximillian (let’s just refer to him as Max from here on) ... Max believed that heterosexuals had fucked up the world, and maybe he was correct in his thinking, I dunno. I wouldn’t call myself an expert on humanity. But in his post-nuclear holocaust utopia, gay men would inherit the earth, with occasional but mandatory breeding privileges with the more athletic of the dykes. You see... the future Human Race would have a great deal of adversity to overcome, so it made sense to have it as healthy and resilient as possible. My bunker was meant to be extra special, for I was the Alpha Male, wired up to a series of contraptions that allowed me to tap into the untold reserves of brain power that most humans allow to go to waste. Mind over body was the future bodybuilding catalyst that would make men into superman... nay ultra-supermen. I was one such ultra... a bodybuilding archetype for a new future. Unfortunately, to block out so much mental static from my subterranean compatriots I had to be in isolation for at least a year. I was okay with that, Max’s billions ensured that my underground tomb was anything but a tomb. It was fully air-conditioned, using a recycling system that gave me constant fresh air and clean water. It had hydroponics and a farm manned by hunky young studs that I constantly turned to for sexual stimulation, not to mention plenty of hot muscle worship and even hotter sex. They saw me as their god, and I was completely okay with that. But cabin fever, even though I had access to twenty-five thousand square feet of space, gets you in the end. Five years of being stuck in the one place, even though it was as idyllic as money could make it, was too horrid to bear. I didn’t want to lose my mind, because if I did, there was no telling what a man of my size, strength and power could do. I must sleep soon but let me tell you a little about a typical day for me. I wake up at 7am every day, at least I think it’s 7am. Very hard to tell the time of day when all you have to look at are artificial computer-generated vistas tricking you into thinking there is a savory world beyond so many sterile windows. I spend a good hour or so posing in front of the many mirrors throughout the complex. I need to see myself constantly, to remind myself just how amazing, how... oh God.... fuck yeah.... how unbelievably huge I am. But not huge enough. I need to get way bigger if I’m to stand a chance of breaking out of here, digging through the collapsed tunnel that connects with the other “vaults”, and finally reintegrating myself into Max’s incredible collective: all gay men, all athletes, thinkers, scientists, doctors... you name it... he has ‘em all. And let’s not forget the lesbians. Back to me and my muscles.... damn! I’m overwhelmed. Fuck this recollecting for now, I’ll get back to it later. Right now, we are all in need of some incredible muscle action. Let me introduce you to Peter, one of my “boys” who tends farm over in Sector Eight. His specialty is bovine maintenance. But he is so pretty to the eyes, blonde haired, bronze skin, and blue eyes... your typical California surfer dude-type. I never allow my guys to wear anything but faded, ripped Levi’s jeans. They go shirtless throughout their working days, and then after... they wear nothing at all. Peter is my favorite. “Come to me, hot stuff.” “Sure Todd.” “You like what you see as I tense up my arms before you?” “I’m so boned for you right now, Todd.” Peter is enthusiastic and angelic, but the sexiest, by far, of all my guys. “Describe what you see before you, Peter... height, weight, the whole deal.” “You seem taller today, much bigger than yesterday, Todd.” Peter is massaging his ball-sack through his jeans as he speaks. His super-trim waist seems to emphasize his hips and what he has between them. His Levi’s always seem to tent out at the front. My cock twitches at the merest thought of him. “What do you mean “much bigger”? I’ve been working out harder than ever!” My tone is vehement. Peter – although my golden boy – must know his place and never say things that disappoint me. “Sorry Todd. You aren’t much bigger... you’re a LOT more than much bigger,” corrects Peter. “That’s better. Look at my flexing biceps... each bigger than your head.... get over here and start doing things to them... and to yourself as you go.” “Fuck yes... I can’t even get my hands around those thick, muscled mounds. They’re HUGE! Fuck, I’m so jizzing for you any minute, Todd!” Peter’s gorgeous, toned chest is heaving now, his breathing excited, becoming more so. And this is just the beginning. He’s squeezing my massive, flexed biceps as I hold the pump in each. His fingers can’t dent the muscle, diamond-hard muscle that keeps getting bigger, harder.... STRONGER!!!!! It’s not enough to break out yet, but I’m getting there. I continue to flex a double biceps, forcing more blood to flow into veins that never seem to be too engorged. They squirm and pulsate like great leeches under my skin, but this is not an unattractive image, rather the contrary. My striations and vascularity are unprecedented... and I can only get bigger, stronger, and better looking. “Your upper arms have easily passed thirty-two inches, Todd. That’s amazing.” Peter’s boner is now more pronounced. His cock easily passes ten inches hard. He is meant to be part of a new race of man, and these men will always be proud of their peckers. No place for needle-dicks here. Of course, my cock easily surpasses his by at least five more inches. And it’s still growing in proportion with my massively muscular body. “How thick is your chest, Peter?” “You already know my dimensions, Todd!” “Tell me again,” I growl, demandingly. He must oblige. There is no free will in my bunker. I won’t allow it, for I am cocky to a fault; I am the Alpha... the biggest... the strongest... the GREATEST!!! “My chest is a slim thirty-eight, Todd. I have a slender but very attractive fit body,” Peter tells me. “You think I can get my biceps up past thirty-eight, bigger than your fucking chest?” “Unnngh,” pants Todd, his massive trouser snake threatening to pop the buttons on his fly and spit precum all over his muscle master. “Of course, you can... and then you can get them even bigger.” Hearing this causes me to beam with delight, growl in a most-masculine way, and flex harder, causing more blood to fucking scream into my biceps with such pressure and velocity. My bicep cannons explode with deadly force. Both biceps grow even more. I can’t believe this growth. It’s incredible. I bring my arms down to my side and then place knuckles on either side of me, above my hips. I burst out a massive lat-spread, my body transforming, bulging upwards and outwards into a gigantic delta of rock hard, mesmerizingly defined muscle flesh. I bend my head backwards so that my neck thickens and thickens, cords bulging out of it as I need to get my chin out of the way so my upper pec-shelf can thicken and expand. All the while I do this, Peter’s hands are forcibly working their way across my chest, fingertips rising and falling in and out of multiple thick and deep striations. They linger around my sensitive nipples, teasing the buds bigger and harder. They redden from his touch and from so much blood nurturing them. “Go down along my massive torso. Tell me what you’re feeling,” I bark. “It’s like nothing else on Earth, Todd. Your body is Utopia. You must be easily 800 lbs. or more. But you need to be over 1000 lbs. to stand a chance of getting us out of there. I feel tiny before you, my god. But you must get bigger... make me feel tinier, more insignificant. Make me want to worship you even more!” “I give the orders, not you, runt!” “Sorry Todd. It won’t happen again.” “What are my abs like?” “Harder than concrete... a perfect ten-pack, striations deep enough to hide coins in, if coinage meant anything these days.” “Gotta get them bigger, harder... way more defined. I need to hide saucers in them, not coins.” “You will, my god. You will!” “Remove my pants!” I too wear Levi’s, only modified by our in-house tailors, for no ordinary pair would come close to fitting me. My waist is thirty-four inches, but my thighs are each almost forty-one around. My tailors do excellent work. Peter gets down on his knees and begins to unbutton my jeans, relieving some of the pressure in front of my swelling genitals. I never wear underpants; there never seems to be enough room for my junk if I do. I haven’t washed since my last workout. My scent down there is warm, cloying. Peter recoils a little as a cloud of my musk affronts him briefly. Then he accepts it. My trouser snake uncoils before him, easily springing to attention. “Fuck... it’s bigger, thicker than it was last time we did this.” Peter looks worried. Will he be able to take all this meat in its entirety? My snakehead is already leaking its venom, only my venom doesn’t poison... it invigorates. “Take my dick into your mouth... gorge on its massiveness.” “I will...er... gag violently, Todd.” “Do you best not to,” I snarl. Peter does as he’s told, his hand groping me from behind, just about able to work its fingers into the deep crack between two massive muscle-mounds that form my bubble-ass. With his other hand he works at his own impressive member, all the while deep-throating me to the best of his ability. He moans with bliss, breathing through his nose to maintain a steady supply of oxygen. “Unngh feels so good, Peter. You are taking all my muscle-meat. Good man!” “Akkkk....ghhhhhk,” he returns, unable to speak for now. I am content to hear those sounds as he struggles to please me. But there is just so much to me... I’m constantly growing, the hugest bodybuilder ever, about to get even huger. “Aw man... you know how to.... gasp... please your master,” I almost scream, as his teeth scrape along the shaft of my so-thick cock, his tongue near-constantly assaulting the sensitive buds around the skirt of the mushroom head. It throws my senses into utter reverie. I cry out, guttural, masculine... dominant. Precum dribbles in constant miniature rivers out of Peter’s mouth, squeezed from each corner. Soon he is kneeling in a small pool of the stuff. I know that as soon as I cum for real, that I will experience a vital growth spurt. How much I grow depends on how well Peter succeeds at pleasing me. Part 2 And so, Peter continues to please me, for as I’ve already mentioned, he is my favorite. I often think about how much more pleasing to me he would be if he were in possession of muscles as huge and powerful as mine. But I cannot allow anyone to get as big as me. I must be the biggest and the strongest. Peter has this trick he does when sucking off my huge cock. We only discovered he could do it less than a month ago. LeStrange is a little concerned that his utopian muscle studs have begun to evolve in ways other than muscular development. So far Peter is the only one to undergo the merest metamorphosis, but can it be put down to radiation leaking into the vaults through some hairline fracture in the superstructure? Peter has a bifurcate tongue... like a snake’s, but he can also zip it up to look and act like a normal tongue. But now... now I want the snake in his mouth to do amazing things to the super-serpent that is my monster dick. “Time to slither that fucker in, you delicious young hunkling,” I gasp and snarl all at once, my bliss ever rising to near fever pitch. “Anything for you, amazing man,” Peter returns, also gasping. He unzips his tongue, the tip dividing into two prong-like appendages. He can do great things with these. He withdraws most of my thick, wet cock from his capacious mouth, but not all the way, concentrating his efforts on the bulbous head, and specifically the slit through which magic is wont to flow. At first, he teases the sensitive mushroom head, expertly manipulating it between the fleshy ‘limbs’ of his split tongue with great care and expertise. Every muscle in my body is flexed to near-bursting point. I need to hold in every pump I’ve given my muscles during my recent workouts. My body is like no other; my muscles can remain pumped for up to a week at a time. But then, knowing my lust for muscle-growth, I need to build on those held-in pumps, flexing further, harder, and stronger, lifting heavier and heavier all the time for short reps: pumps on top of fucking pumps. Think of the best orgasm you ever had in your life... then multiply that feeling by fifty and THAT’S what it feels like to be me with muscles more pumped than an entire football team before the game, or even holding in pressure greater than a volcano that threatens to erupt but never quite manages it. I am a volcano of muscle, but only Peter can really make me blow my top. “Unnnngh.... sooooooo gooood, Peter.... rape my muscle cock with your amazing tongue,” I yell. Okay, so some of you might think: ewwww, what a terrible image. But Peter can make poetry out of a funeral dirge, trust me on this. He handles me expertly, with unprecedented loyalty. He is irrevocably bonded to me. He lives for me.... he would surely give his life to grow me further. One of the tongue-splits gently works itself into the slit of my cock, exciting nerve-endings that cause my entire body to shudder and then stiffen into a palsy of pain and bliss rolled into one. When your body is subjected to both sensations at once, madness may result, only my mind can make sense of both paroxysms, manipulating them, bending them to my will, so that within seconds I am feeling the greatest sexual high ever felt by a living creature. Peter’s tongue works into me further. Now I am violated, only I want it so much. I know that I shall erupt not only with insane amounts of hot, sweet jism, but my muscles shall grow like they’ve never grown before. I know this, and so does Peter. When I get big enough and strong enough, I will be able to break us all out of this maddening isolation and eventually rejoin the ADAM society as we were meant to. We were never meant to remain out of the equation for so long. Peter is excited; I can feel his excitement thundering through his taut, beautiful flesh and into me. I welcome it. I also welcome the feeling of my massive balls swelling so huge inside their skin sack so that the skin is stretched so tight it shines. My gonads swell and throb bigger than baseballs, and all the while they do - still with his bifurcate tongue doing incredible things to the tip of my cock - Peter’s expert fingers massage and fondle my balls with complete lack of restraint. No place for restraint here, not when I’m about to achieve the greatest muscle growth of my life. I can feel it elevating, inflating inside me almost like a separate persona about to overwhelm the real me. So what if I lose to it... that my muscles should become the dominant power in my life. I don’t care.... I just want to get huger than I could ever have dreamed possible. It’s about to happen, I can feel myself swelling, thickening, and getting taller, wider, and heavier. Oh man, this is incredible. I’m going to get HUUUUGE!!!!!! Peter removes my cock from his mouth just seconds before I blow my massive load. He knows that if he doesn’t take care he could get injured from the intensity of the blast, I’m that strong. He gets out of the way and begins to play with his cock in anticipation of the spectacle we both know is about to happen. I scream out, unable to contain my bliss as every muscle in my body unites in a tremendous spasm that powers the flow of my cum-blast. Out of my hugely stimulated cock, a jet of hot, steaming spunk erupts and shoots across the room. The jet strikes a metal locker on the far side of the room with force enough to dent it inwards. The force of the collision sends cum splashing in all directions. The mess shall be considerable. The orgasm seems ceaseless, the gush of my juice without end. Every time I cum like this, there seems to be more and more of the stuff, as my ability to hold onto the orgasm improves with every emission. I can cum for ages if I need to. I need to now. Peter, too, is desperate to cum, but I have taught him to hold it in unless I command him to erupt. Caught up in my own incredible orgasm, I cannot be concerned about what he is feeling at this time, but I can imagine it can’t be pleasant for him... pleasure and pain all at once (welcome to my world), the desperate need to shoot his own load, only I will not allow it... not yet. He will cum when I reach the pinnacle of my growth cycle... ...which is about to happen... I am engulfed in a rush of heat, my orgasm still raging through me and out of me, every surface in my domicile getting sticky with my liquid protein. For a moment I do not like the feeling, because I liken it to someone’s head exploding from too much of a blood-pressure build-up. So, I placate this feeling with expert mental manipulation... once again tapping into the amazing power of my ever-developing brain. No place for mental dormancy here... not in this utopia. Ah, but the true utopia of man’s utter survival and future can be epitomized and given a body by my tremendous powers of transformation. Once the heat subsides in my body, all my muscles, veins, arteries, organs, even skin, everything that I am: my utmost fabric, throbs and groans as everything shifts and swells. My growth isn’t a gradual stream of growth either. It happens in multi-spurts, powered by dominant heartbeats. My growth happens to all my muscles simultaneously. I don’t just grow... I fucking EXPLODE!!!!!! A nearby computer scans me as I grow... my vitals and measurements project onto my body in scintillating red laser characters, cast out of several spherical beam emitters that hover almost invisibly around me. My chest expands massively, the bones of my ribcage cracking and stretching with newfound pliability as they move out in every direction to make room for more and more growth. My pecs blow up like feeding amoebae, gorged on matter greater than their starving masses can comfortably accommodate. My pecs glut on growth and power, laser-cast numerals etch across my skin in bold crimson relief: “74 inches” .... “76 inches” ... “81 inches” .... like a neon tickertape, one that can barely keep up with my searing, soaring growth. “Uhh, the feeling is amazing,” I gasp, my body seething, sweating, palpitating with metamorphic power. All the while I grow, Peter continues to moan with reverie of his own, although he shall not falter and succumb to cumming until I say it’s okay to do so. Our bond is unbreakable... it cannot be denied. I also realize that I am becoming smarter, my command of syntax and structure improving all the time. Below my ever-deepening, ever-thickening overweight pecs, crescent moons of darkest shadow are cast, growing longer and downwards, hiding some of the thick cobblestone mosaic formed of my ab-bellies. To some they would be dismayed that one massive muscle group should so blatantly swell to conceal the magnitude of another, but in this case, I welcome it. My favorite muscles will always be my pecs, and so I want them bigger, heavier, way more defined, and with striations deep enough to hide one of Peter’s ever-roaming hands. Laser beams fire diminishing measurements across the brickwork of my stomach, numbers ‘ticker-taping’ in decreasing increments in contrast to the ever-increasing dimensions occurring elsewhere across my incredible and hyper-sexy jizzed-out physique: “36 inches” … “34 inches” ... “33 inches”. My waist now stabilizes at a waspish 32 inches. I could not be happier, more fucking boned by my unprecedented measurements. But even as my waist tightens, so my ab bricks become harder, denser, the laser light rising and dipping as it travels across my abdomen, occasionally being swallowed up by the deep and dark gullies separating each belly from its brothers, only to reappear bright and bold across my glistening, musky skin. I flex my abs and intercostals, tightening my waist further. Veins erupt across my stomach, my Apollo’s belt thickening and deepening to mesmerizing proportions, now festooned with highways of interconnecting vessels through which protein-charged blood, testosterone and adrenaline mix and surge. I momentarily gasp at the new size, weight, and thickness of my muscle-tits. “Puh-pleeese, Todd.... let me cum.... I (gasp)... cannot maintain it much longer,” appeals Peter. But I am resolute in my command of him. He will cum only when I allow it. As I play with the heft and depth of my pecs, I tease out my nips, tweaking them hard so that they expand, thicken and surge hugely on the massive balloon-pecs to which they provide crowning glory. As I grow faster and faster, completely caught up in the ecstasy of my evolution, I squeeze the hulkish brutes of my breast muscles together, forcing the striations across each to deepen and darken... more blood coursing into every tissue fiber, and my nips to grow huger, thicker, twice the circumference of a man’s thumb. I want more growth.... “More......I want MORE!!!!!!!!!!! RAAAAWWWWWR!!!!” My exultation is almost pantomime in its delivery, for it, too, is an empowerment, one that shall fuel my growth further and further. I crab down into a most muscular, forcing more and more growth and nourishment into my muscles, now my arms more so. The laser light numerals dwell on my biceps for a time, recoding their increase in size as I flex them into the biggest muscle-balls a man shall ever sport... until I decide I want them even bigger again.... “38 inches” … “41 inches” … “46 inches” ... FIFTY FUCKING INCHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My arms are now bigger than my thighs were before my growth; my forearms now almost match the width of my thighs at the outset of this transformation. I squeeze out more definition and size, leaning into the flexing, so that my vast bodyweight pushes against the muscle growth, causing even more of a growth reaction. The muscles of my legs heave and ripple with the most effortless of exertions. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, delighting at the feeling of how easily my legs take my weight as it shifts left to right. I want more and more.... this is incredible. It must NEVER end, not if I stand a chance at bodybuilding my way out of this annex. And then, even as I struggle to see over the massive promontory that has become of my chest wall, I can feel as well as just about make out, the awesome expansion of my monster dick. The scanners are struggling to keep up with recording my fast and furious muscle growth. And there is more to explore, but as the computer shuts down into diagnostic mode to reboot, I know that I am still not done with growing, not by a massive amount yet. “Have to.... cuh-cum, Tuh-Todd,” tears now streaming from the eyes of an imploring Peter. I could do with an infusion of protein right about now... to further fuel my growth. I lick my lips in yearning anticipation. “Come to me.... CUM into me!!!!!” I command. And so, he tends to me as I continue to increase in size and weight and awesome muscularity. My weight has exceeded 1000 lbs., but I still feel small, even though I now tower over the one who is most bonded to me. As I hulk out a hundred more pounds of thick, manly muscle onto my gigantic bodybuilder’s frame, I effortlessly pick up Peter, feeling him to be weightless in my hands, I’m now THAT strong. As his body begins to jerk from the spasms of orgasm, I lift his stiff, engorged prick to my hungry lips and taste of the sweet juice he is powerless to keep as his own. ******************************** This is all there is. I don't know if this was meant to be the first part of a longer story, or if it was meant to be a "cum quickie" and end here. I think it works well as it stands.
  16. FallenAway

    David's Day by LORUS

    Once again, with the author's permission, I am reposting a story he wrote for the old forum and later deleted. Fortunately, I saved a copy. Some of the pop culture references may be a little dated, especially for younger readers, but that shouldn't get in the way. There are two parts to the original story and a sequel called David's End of Days. I will post all of those in this thread. Enjoy! David's Day by LORUS Part 1 of 2 7:00 am: The alarm always went off at 7am. David Driscoll, like every morning would awaken to the 1979 disco hit “Born to be Alive”, by Patrick Hernandez. The song was his personal anthem, and he just loved life, although he would have preferred to have been a teen back in the 1970s. He loved that decade, the decade of polyester, which wasn’t always flattering on people, unless of course, they had a body like David Driscoll. He dressed, seventies-style, every day of his life, sometimes mixing and matching the loudest of shirts with the most ludicrous of pants, the wider the bells on the bottoms the better. He was THE biggest bodybuilder in the world, and so young, too. He was so beautiful that he could get away with wearing just about anything, or sometimes very little at all. It depended on the mood he was in at the time. So it was Friday morning, on his 18th birthday and he always performed a little show for himself in front of his bedroom mirror, as Patrick Hernandez belted out his catchy disco hit. Standing totally naked he would assess himself in minute detail, but for no longer than fifteen minutes. There was just so much for him to do and achieve today. “Bam.... best fucking arms ever, but they need more size,” he declared, curling his forearms up to a vertical position on either side of his handsome head, squeezing thick mass into his bis, and gasping in mock-surprise at how the peaks pushed upwards as if they were miniature mountains rising out of the land, a pure herculean feat that would forever go unrivalled. “First thing today... eat a huge, power-packed breakfast, and kiss your mom, in that order, trying to look as though you don’t already know about the Ferrari F430 she bought you for your 18th.” He flexed his rippling, deeply cut abs and sucked them in with expert control, as he fanned his upper body out to the biggest full-lat-spread he’d ever seen, and this was before today’s massive upper body workout, which, he’d planned to make the most productive one of his life so far. He had a plan for today, now that he was old enough to drink and go to bars. There was a new gay bar and nightclub opened in town and he planned to be the center of attention by the onset of evening. “Gotta work these muscle-titties up to their most bulgerific, oh yeah!” His mouth and chin disappeared into a mattress of super-strong, almost obscenely developed pec-cleavage. He flexed the slabs huger – hefting them higher – and causing rippling striations to blast across their corpulent surfaces. Nipples that pointed straight down now stood out perpendicular to the floor, each one pushing out in support of the pushing out happening further down. “Ha ha ha.... no one will ever come close to being as huge as me... yeah... huge in every place where it goddam fuckin’ counts.” Yeah, he was cocky to a fault, but he was entitled to be. He hefted the massive snake of his cock in his hands, shocked in a “not-surprised” kinda way, when it felt longer, thicker, and heavier to him than it had the day before. He always knew that he would grow amazingly on his 18th birthday. How he knew this he couldn’t say... he just, well, knew. “Gotta weigh myself.... must have hit 500lbs by now, aw yeah!” His cock snapped fully erect at the thought of weighing this much. Lately he’d been bodybuilding like crazy, even dropping out of school to devote as much time in each day to bulking up his body to even more massive proportions. Hell, he didn’t need to be academically achieved to sail through life. He already had everything handed to him on a silver platter, given that he came from one of the world’s wealthiest families. His parents were divorced, his father based in South America where he spent most of his time adventuring in the rain forest in search of ancient relics (yawn). His mother was a complete socialite, given to throwing gala parties at the drop of a hat. Today David would inherit a trust fund amounting to fifty million dollars, so what did he need school for? He had looks, muscles, vast wealth, and from today onwards... complete and utter independence. One thing he vowed not to have by the end of the day and night was his virginity. He stood on the scale in his personal bathroom whilst his manservant, Carmichael, stood in attendance. “I’ll take it the Sir is pleased by the number on the readout,” said Carmichael, in the fakest British brogue you will ever hear. But he was good-looking and although in his forties, looked a good ten years younger. David often thought about fucking him, but he knew that Carmichael was straight, and he respected that. “Damn, only 496,” David angrily snapped, stomping his foot in Hulk-like fashion, flattening the expensive scale beneath. As well as being monstrously muscular, the teen was immensely strong. “I will clean that up immediately and have a replacement scale within the hour, Sir,” Carmichael droned, as if disinterested. “Damn, I wanted to be 500 on my birthday. But I know I can grow so much today. I can feel it in my blood, Carmichael. By the way, does my cock look bigger to you?” Completely unashamed of his nakedness – in fact he loved to be naked as often as circumstances allowed – David squeezed his cock so hard that the mushroom head swelled to the size of a man’s fist. “Longer than my forearm, Sir. The Sir must be very proud to sport such a magnificent member,” Carmichael replied, tonelessly. “Yeah, and it’s going to see plenty of action this evening. But I need to bulk up to my hugest ever. Tonight has to be special, Carmichael. I need to be goddam fucking HUUUGE,” David roared, and flexed out a most-muscular that caused every bulb of muscle on his upper body to tautly explode with size and definition. “Ha ha ha... is that a little spot of precum I see staining the front of your pants, Carmichael?” David was becoming playful now, and so very lusty. “Yes, Sir, but I’m thinking about making love to Missus Carmichael later this evening, so please do not think that my sudden... ahem... display is in any way directed at you,” the servant politely stated. “Damn.... seven-fifteen. I need to get food into me before my cardio. Wow, it’s a sunny morning. Think I’ll go for a shirtless run, get these pec-melons of mine bouncing like crazy. Damn but they weigh a ton. Feels like they’re gonna drop off under their own weight at any second. Fuckin’ bones me.” David needed to fuck badly. He’d never done it with anyone before, respecting his mother’s wishes not to lose his virginity whilst living in the same mansion as her. Besides, bodybuilding left David with very little time for socializing, let alone pursuing a relationship. Since quitting high school a full year before graduation, he’d put the extra time to very good use, bulking up from 335 lbs. at just seventeen, to almost 500 in less than a year. But it was never enough for him. He had to be huger. “Need to be HUGE! Not HUGE enough. This bodybuilder is gonna get MASSIVE beyond belief!” He continued to flex the huge muscles across his mighty six-foot-eight frame. He felt as though he was done with growing in height, but if he happened to gain another couple of inches before his bones were done with growing, he figured he could live with it. Besides, as far as his bones were concerned, he still wanted his shoulders to widen and his rib cage to expand even further. The better the foundation, the bigger the muscles he could pack on to it. Carmichael laid out his clothing for that morning, a tan-colored pair of low-rise, butt-n-crotch-hugging running shorts that barely covered the top of his dark pubes or the top of his butt-crack. The curved cleft between his bubbled glutes was deep and dark, with just a small puff of hair poking out. Any sweat running down the deep channel of his back formed by the immense sheets of convoluted muscle on either side would collect in that tuft, two scents mixing to form his ultra-musk. He liked to build up this musk, and with tonight being an adventure of unprecedented proportions, David vowed to enter the nightclub reeking of musk, manly and over-comely, altogether dripping with seduction. David pulled on the shorts, taking great effort to do so, but being careful not to pop the button-fly as he struggled to pack his meat inside. He never wore a jockstrap or any kind of underwear under his shorts when running. He also never wore the same pair twice. Once done with the shorts, Carmichael, his devoted manservant, would (with the aid of a gas mask) package them up and sell them on eBay, but not before cooking them in a sauna for a few days, to get them really pungent. A pair of David Driscoll’s unwashed running shorts would usually go for upwards of $3000.00 lately, not that he needed the money, but it was fun to watching the furious bidding that took place on eBay for the much-coveted shorts. “Ha ha ha... the best thing is though, that my shorts get muskier the bigger I get. Better watch out, Carmichael, I may soon be sooooo musky, so manly-flavored, that even you won’t be able to resist me.” That was another of David’s plans, to seduce and fuck as many straight guys as possible. He was going to fuck the world....aw yeah! “Remind me to stock up on clothes-pins, Sir,” Carmichael responded, his droll tone dripping with the driest sarcasm. He helped his master on with his running shoes. That was the downside of being enormously muscled; putting on shoes was damn-near impossible when you had so much titanic muscle clogging up the space between your neck and your shins. But David wasn’t immobile, far from it. He was getting stronger and fitter as he got bigger, but any problems he had with dressing only served to make him even more proud about his burgeoning body. He was nearly ready, but for one more thing: Glisten Mist, the spray-on moisturizing oil and anti-burn factor, developed by one of his father’s many companies. The mist would coat his muscles evenly, buffing them up to a glistening shine whilst helping to lock in moisture and protect his beautiful, tanned skin from UV damage. “How do I look,” asked David, knowing full and well how amazing he looked. He posed some more in his mirror, aghast at how the mist-sheen brought out the beauty, mammoth size, and sheer mind-blowing magnificence of his bulging body. He flexed an arm, hooking it down before him, and a melon-sized ball-bicep morphed into being. “Gonna get these beauties twice as big today,” he vowed, with a manly snigger. “Um, the Sir might want to become less “excited” before going downstairs to greet his mother,” said Carmichael, drawing David’s attention to the huge cock-bulge in the front of his shorts. The visible button-fly strained and groaned in defiance of the pressure put against it, and the waistband, already ridiculously low and challenging the nudity regulations of California, was pushed out further from his ab-wall so that more of his pubic bush poked upwards. Already musk was forming there, the smell of the scent enough by itself to get David really horny. “Shit, I’ll have to cum first, Carmichael. Damn, I won’t even make it to the bathroom.” Frantically, furiously, David undid his shorts and expanded his cock to its complete length of twenty-something inches. It thickened considerably, the mushroom-head seeming to grow even further, his ball-sack bulging up like the throat-sac of a horny bullfrog. Fortunately, Carmichael always carried a fold-up umbrella in his inside pocket, in case of emergencies such as this. He just about got the umbrella up, using it as a shield before him, in time to not get showered. 7:32 am: David came and came.... then came some more. His milking went on for six minutes, bringing the time to 7:32 am, and he still had to leave his bedroom. “Aww...fucking horny. Huge bodybuilding mega-stud that I am... cum everywhere.” He coated every surface of everything in the room, and soon Carmichael’s umbrella was coated in thick, opaque splashes of viscid cream. He finished by licking off as much of the cum from his mirror, which completely covered it. When he could once again see his awesome reflection, he crabbed into a most-muscular, growling with such intensity that the mirror shattered right in front of him. “Fuck yeah!” When he arrived downstairs, Consuela the cook had his breakfast ready. David wolfed down twelve chicken fillets, four bowls of oatmeal, a pound of lean ground beef, and washed it down with three quarts of gainer shake (his own special recipe prepped to max for ultimate results in growth and conditioning). It was more food in one sitting than what three super-heavyweight pro bodybuilders would be able to get through. David was banned from competing for the simple reason that posing in front of a crowd got him so boned, he would come out in a massive erection every time. Fuck it: he knew he was the best. Besides, he would win every time, thus ruining the competition for everyone else. It was a lot of food to take in before a run. But David’s metabolism was truly exceptional. It was as though he had a nuclear reactor for a stomach. As soon as food entered his system it was broken down far more rapidly than a mundane human body could do. And he could eat anything he liked, too, once he had the sensible breakfast out of the way. Lunch would be pizza at the gym. His family owned most of the gyms in America, so his rules were different than those for everyone else. He was allowed to send out for 8 massive pizzas to help him through his workouts, and only David was allowed to train shirtless. His body was an example to everyone else working out at the gym... they would never match its perfection. His mother hardly noticed him as she glided into the massive kitchen, struggling with one of her earrings, her outfit the latest Versace two-piece, her makeup and hair done to perfection courtesy of her live-in stylists. “I’m jetting off to Milan, sweetie. Kiss kiss. Happy birthday. The keys to your present are on the countertop. Love you lots, daaaarling.” And that was it. Monique (real name Maud) barely had time for her extraordinary son, these days, not since hooking up with the wealthy Italian oil magnate, Rubio Andretticalzoni. “Huh, so much for my surprise party later on,” said David, a little despondently. But he’d mostly been raised by the servants since he was little, his parents far too important and jet-setter-ish to spare much time for their only son and heir. Even when he started to gain absurdly huge amounts of muscle, his parents hardly noticed. But David didn’t care. He only cared about himself and his body. He was too rich to have strong family ties beyond what his blood entitled him to in the way of inheritance. 7:51 am: He left on his run, charging through the mega-rich suburb, passing other rich-folk, musicians, movie-stars etc. He nodded a good morning to Vin Diesel who was out walking his poodle, the little toy-dog’s curly fur tinted pink in places. “It’s my girlfriend’s pooch,” the star of the Riddick movies explained, somewhat shakily, to the hulking Adonis that passed him, his eyes rapt on the seething bounce of David’s weighty pecs as he jogged. “Sure it is, Vin. Sure it is,” said David, winking. He blew a kiss at Lenny Kravitz who was out collecting mail from his mailbox. Kravitz gave him the finger but asked him where he got his pants from. “House of Trione, and you’d have a problem filling them out, hot stuff,” David blurted out as he quickly put distance between himself and the musician. He turned the head of every person he passed, the rich and the famous, although not one of them could ever match David’s size and beauty. Movie Director Louis Leterrier who, like many directors, had property in Santa Barbara, had seen David before, and was always trying to grab his attention. Sometimes David liked to tease him a little. “The offer still stands, David. The studio will pay you twenty million dollars to play the Hulk in HULK 3. The CGI hulks just haven’t been working out,” said Leterrier as he tended to his rose bushes. “Hmm,” said David, considering the offer. He’d seen both Hulk movies. And the Hulks looked terribly unrealistic, although there were significant visual improvements made to the Hulk in the second film. But twenty million dollars was now mere pocket change to David. “Of course, to use you as a live-action Hulk, I’d need you to bulk up by another three hundred pounds before we start shooting in mid-2011,” the director added. “I could easily get that big, Louis, but location shooting away from my base of operations could be problematic. It would eat into my training schedule far too much. But you might be able to change my mind, say, for forty million dollars plus merchandising rights for use of my likeness.” Smug and over-confident, his body glinting blindingly in the Californian sunshine, David flexed a most muscular, pushing all his weight and power into it. Several car alarms went off suddenly. Leterrier almost tripped over his tongue when he saw the muscles standing out so much. “Forget forty million, David. Your asking price is too high. Looks like it’s CGI for HULK 3, so.” Obviously the world wasn’t ready for a teenage Hulk. The director sighed and went back to pruning his roses. David continued jogging. 8.25 am: He decided to not turn back for home, but continued jogging, leaving the ‘burbs altogether and heading for downtown. He stopped plenty of traffic as he jogged, his muscles, especially his enormous pec slabs, caused guys passing to pop erections (whether they were straight or not) and grown women to start fingering themselves in the street. A cop car flashed its lights as a warning to him, but by the time David passed the vehicle, a quick flex and lick of his bicep was enough to overwhelm the two cops and they started to undo each other’s flies. David had an astounding and exceptional effect on people. It seemed that any laws that existed to keep mundane society in check simply didn’t apply to David. “Fuck, I’m gonna jog shirtless to the gym every day from now on,” he vowed, reckoning it would give him an extra thirty minutes to work on the weights if he didn’t have to go home first and shower, obviously driving to the gym after that. That meant that he could lift longer and get huger because of it. It made sense. “Grrrr, why didn’t I think of that sooner? I could be hundreds of pounds heavier by now.” He got to the gym, leaving in his wake a trail of orgasming Santa Barbarians. He stopped to catch his breath, which only took seconds. His body was glistening beneath a coat of shining, liquid beads, and his slutty shorts were sodden with his musky sweat. In fact, he entered the gym that morning and immediately Alan behind the desk, himself a huge bodybuilding hunk of 24, caught a sniff of David’s reek and instantly shot a messy load in his own shorts. “Unnnngh.... you’re so fuckin’ hot, Driscoll. Unnngh, how about you and I get jiggy in the showers later,” Alan moaned, now stroking his not-inconsiderable cock, caring little if his employers caught him on camera. Not to worry, David would fix everything, considering his family owned the gym. “I might take you up on that offer, sexy. Better start re-filling those nuts of yours. ‘Cos your cum is all mine. But for now, I gotta fucking lift. Gotta get so fucking, incredibly fucking HUUUUUGE!!!!!” He flexed his enormous biceps, screaming to get his blood flowing so that his muscles could bulge even larger. Alan immediately shot another massive load, blowing a huge stream of thick cum into the air. It splashed all over David’s biceps and he quickly licked each of them clean of every drop. 8:51 am: To hell with warming up. Jogging at 496 lbs. – his body saturated with massive muscle-flesh – was a warm-up enough by itself. Today he was concentrating on chest, arms, delts, and shoulders. Yeah, he could work all those groups by 5pm, his cut-off point. He needed to have his upper body looking immense before hitting the town later. It wasn’t even 9am and already there was a small crowd forming around David as he took his position on his favorite bench. It was chest first, aw fuck, he had to get it up past one hundred and eight inches. The other bodybuilders present, every one of them totally into themselves and their training, unless in the presence of David, began to egg him on, chanting in unison so that he could break through the pain threshold and break his personal bests. This morning he was benching 1100 lbs. on the bar, the bar itself bending dangerously from the massive weight. He cranked out a staggering thirty reps at this weight. Arteries begat new veins and veins begat a myriad of new capillaries as his circulatory system transformed to cope with the increase in his mass and the punishment he gave it. His body erupted with newfound bulges and vascularity as he managed a further twenty reps before returning the bar to its resting position. He didn’t need help doing it either. He sat up on the bench and bunched his pec muscles together. Even sweatier than he was when he arrived, he playfully raised his arms up high to expose the thick, twin bushes of his dark armpits, spraying every guy present with his sopping-wet perfume. “Aww David, you dirty cunt,” one of them cried, a tall muscle-hunk named Barry Watts, his sudden erection shredding his shorts at the front. The entire retinue of David-worshippers, straight, gay, and bi, began to go at themselves or else go at each other; such was the effect of being around the supercharged eighteen-year-old. “ I’ve come of age now, guys, so you’d better all watch out. I’m going to get huger than this.... way fuckin’ huger, and by the end of the day, you all will be walking home with smoke cummin’ outta yer butts. David has arrived, and David will CUMMMMM!!!!” The air-conditioning failed, causing the temperature to shoot up in the gym. David’s musk got stronger still, his once tan-colored shorts now dyed a dark brown from saturated moisture. His musk dripped down his legs and coated so many surfaces. Cockily he commanded some of his worshippers to load up the bar with another 100 lbs. The bar sagged even further on either end, but still held. He settled back beneath it and took the strain. “Unnnnngh!!!!” He was slow to start pumping reps, but as he commanded more strength from his ever-developing muscles, the bar soon began to feel lighter and lighter. Within twenty seconds David was pumping the 1200 lb. bar with ease. The fact it was getting lighter and easier to lift as he progressed, made him mad.... very mad! “48... 49... 54... 60... 68... 71... 150... 399...680...1397....,” the congregation chanted. David couldn’t stop pressing the bar. He was locked into the activity, doing away with sets altogether. There was now just constant pumping, ceaseless repetition, whilst around him, grown men in various degrees of muscular development continued to get off to the massive muscle-god named David. 10:00 am: Finally, after an hour, somewhere around his 2000th rep at 1200 lbs., David returned the bar to its rests, boned by the fact it was hot from friction, each overloaded end drooping like melting ice cream. He sat up, his musk now billowing around him. He looked around. Up to fifty gym-goers were locked in a ceaseless orgy around him. He got so very horny looking at them writhing in a seemingly endless rippling ocean of muscle and male beauty. He looked down at his pecs and was amazed to see that they were twice as huge as before. “Aw fuck... look at me. So huuuge. But not huge enough, not by a long shot.” He flexed his massive pecs, delighting at how much heavier they felt, the cuts deeper, the cleft between each pec-melon now richly dark and leaking his scent as abundantly as his boned cock dripped cupsful of precum at a time. So much moisture was leaving him, at an astonishing rate. He was thirsty, but not for water. He needed to test a theory. He’d had a dream once where he was milking other bodybuilders of their juices, drinking them in, leaving them dehydrated and unconscious. Strangely Carmichael was there, just for a second, but winking at him, as if he knew something that David didn’t. And in the dream, having drunk the bodybuilders of their nut-nectar, David bulked up far huger and huger. Could this be the secret to his exceptional muscle growth? The men at his feet were totally in his power, now. He started with Barry Watts, tearing every shred of clothing from him as he easily lifted him up with both hands. Barry was about two-eighty, bulking in his off-season, but he felt totally weightless to the monster that David’s muscles had made of him. “Mmmm, nice little pecker you have there, Baz,” David remarked, before closing his lips around Barry’s porn-worthy ten-incher. He sucked him for exactly nine seconds before the groaning, enraptured Barry blew another load and a blast of hot, salty crème gushed down David’s throat. David swallowed hard, savoring every drop. He drank Barry to the last, then pushed him aside and started on another, Guy Colette, whose balls were the size of tennis balls. David got him off and sucked him dry. He did this to every boned bodybuilder in his retinue. David grew. Aw fuck, he grew and grew.... like fucking never before. 10:33am: His perfume radiated outwards into the street, causing passers-by old enough to react to it to stop what they were doing and pile into the gym en masse. Some people had never seen the inside of a gym in their lives, but David’s reek was intoxicating and addictive. Soon a huge throng of people from all walks of life had gathered around him on the weight room floor as he underwent a most remarkable transformation. Considering he’d only intended to train some of his muscles on this day, he was completely boned to discover that sucking off the other bodybuilders had caused all his muscles to grow. His traps gorged on free space, pushing upwards and outwards, shortening the distance between his shoulders and neck. Veins, thickly throbbing, erupted across the triangular wedges, sticking out ferociously whilst the cords and pipes of his neck bulged and thickened, which sent further chemical power spreading to other muscle groups. His deltoids swelled larger, deeper, and thicker than... oh fuck... thicker than his goddam pecs had been just minutes before. A dozen inches or more was added to the colossal spread of his shoulders, providing the most perfect framework from which his now beach-ball balloons for pecs hung weightily, the under-swell of each pec-belly deep, round, so very thick and capable of casting a shadow under each hemisphere, dark enough to hide his top two cantaloupe-sized abs from view. His nips pointed down once more but grew intensely into cigar-butt-sized domes, each one ultra-sensitive and inviting of many a hungry, eager set of lips. His arms thickened massively, thicker and wider than the entire torsos of some of the skinny dudes his reek had drawn in from the street. One brave guy stepped forwards, stripping himself naked as he went, urged by, of all people, his girlfriend who was herself so turned on by the spectacle of the ever-developing mega-expanding young bodybuilder. He stood beside the giant so that everyone else could compare his width to that of David’s augmenting upper arms. “Hot dude, your arms are as thick as all of me,” the skinny fucker declared. “Oh really?” With a wink to his audience and the smuggest of smirks, David curled his forearm towards him, smiling out of the corner of his mouth, and immediately his biceps DOUBLED in circumference. The ball was gigantic, easily eighty inches or more, hopefully more, David hoped... a lot more. “Guess you’re going to have to start working out, stickman. You’re just half as thick as one of my arms now. Tsk tsk tsk,” said David, teasingly showing off, now, and loving every moment of it. Hearing this made stickman start to cum. David lifted him up with one hand and caught every drop of his spunk, draining him to the point of dehydration. In contrast to the swelling of his incredible upper torso, David’s waist seemed to tighten and become denser. It went in by an inch, giving him the most incredible difference in the ratio of size between his shoulders and waist. The ratio was easily 4:1 in favor of his shoulders. He also grew two inches taller, and his bones cracked and shifted in order to adjust to the extra muscle mass. David sucked off dozens of men, whilst their wives or girlfriends saw to their own “needs” watching David make fags out of their partners. One guy sauntered up to David and began to inhale David’s dripping, steaming musk. The gigantic muscle-teen lifted him up, sucked him dry, and added him to the pile of dehydrated stickmen gathering at his feet. He grew and grew and grew, sucking off any guy overpowered enough by his reek enough to throw themselves at him. He sucked on bodybuilder after bodybuilder as they began arriving from other gyms. He drank of the city police force, construction workers, in short, every gay man who was overpowered by David’s reek and just HAD to get to the gym. This went on until lunchtime, when traffic became deadlocked and complete sexual anarchy ran riot across the Santa Barbara coast. Finally, David could grow no more. 1:04 pm: Though his belly should have been glutted on man’s creamy ambrosia, David was ravenous. He looked down at the sleeping multitude of Californian folk: some naked, others half-in, half-out of uniforms, everything from police officers, dentists, paramedics, and even the odd man of the cloth (who would really have to question their faith after this). He smirked smugly at the sight of an Asian pizza delivery guy hogging the shredded remains of David’s slut-shorts, rubbing their reek all over his bare torso, intending to coat all of his parts with a stench he would never want to ever wash off. “Hey dude, where’s your van? I’m starving for pizza,” the now almost seven-footer bellowed anxiously. He could barely see much of the pizza boy who writhed on the floor amidst so much soil and reek, for his pecs were now monstrously huge and jutted out from him by more than four feet. His lats were so massive that they forced his elbows outward so that David could barely lower his arms. But with a little effort he could still get his hands around his lithe but solid hips. He flared a lat spread and any space between his bent arms and his waist was filled with lat muscles. He walked back a couple of meters to get a better look at the Asian cutie, his legs, beyond elephantine girth, rippling and flexing with the slightest of movement. His muscle-thighs were now so big that there was no room for his cock and balls to hang downward and in between. Pushed outward, they made his profile look even more dynamic. And... fuck... but his cock was thicker and longer than ever, longer than the distance from the top of his thigh to his knees. It slapped loudly against his thighs as he walked, and the feeling sent ripples of further arousal around his body. The Asian barely acknowledged him, caught up in the throes of his own masturbatory lust, but managed to point in the direction of his truck. The monster bodybuilder stepped over many sleeping folk, all of them sated to the last, and ventured out of the gym in search of the pizza wagon. He found it and got to its delicious cargo easily enough, ripping the rear door right off the vehicle and tossing it aside with hardly any effort. Just as he was about to get his handsome chops around the first pepperoni and cheese delight, a not-unattractive man, clad in a designer suit, hurried across the street towards the behemoth. “Stop right there, big fella. That’s a corporate order. I was watching for the van from the lobby of my building. That pizza is for the Board of Directors.” The guy looked pissed off but somewhat bemused by David’s size. “What’s the name of the company, pipsqueak?” David didn’t look away from his gorging. Fuck, but that was mighty good pizza. “Brody, Brody, and Marshall. Best law firm in Calif – heeey!!!” The thirty-ish-looking exec took exception to David reaching down to snatch his cell phone from his inside jacket pocket, which he then used to dial a familiar number. “Carmichael it’s David... yeah, training is going swell.... I’m fuckin’ huge. Listen, do me a favor and buy Brody, Brody, and Marshall... that’s right, the law firm on Main St. Across from the gym, exactly. Great. Oh, and one more thing...” Another question to the stupefied exec: “What’s your name, dude?” “Er... em... Alistair Marshall, junior vice-president. My father is treasurer and Ch––” But before he could finish: “And see to it that Alistair Marshall is promoted to Chairman of the Board, with a $500,000 bonus. Great. See you later.” David closed the phone and politely popped it back inside Alistair Marshall’s inside pocket. He patted him cheekily on the head before returning to his eating. It was David’s birthday, after all, and he was feeling generous. 1:57 pm: So much growing had worn David out. He decided he could use a nap. He bounded upstairs and evicted Ray the manager from his office, knowing he had a bed in there, a sizeable one, too, which Ray used to bone many a hot chick as was his wont in life. While he slept, he had a dream, but it was the strangest dream he’d ever had in his life. His dad was in it, and so was Patrick Hernandez. Both were sat around a blazing fire in some enclosed village community central to some lush, dense forest. David Driscoll Sr was staring beyond the flames, as if caught in some inner journey that only his mind could experience, whilst Patrick Hernandez feverishly scribbled down lyrics into a pad, his sequel to “Born to be Alive” probably. “Dad, what the hell is going on? Where are we?” There was little to glean from the dreamscape except from the immediacy of the surroundings: the campfire blazing high and brightly, the flames crackling and popping as resin from the burning wood was exposed to them. Beyond that the surrounding environment seemed to be smudged out of focus in the way that dreams can sometimes be to save writers from having to waste an entire paragraph describing it. “I’m afraid, son, that I’m dead. This is the afterlife, based on where I died and how I died,” David’s father lamented as he tossed more wood on the fire. The flames roared up higher, causing shadows to dance skittishly across the sprawling landscape of David’s enormously pumped muscles. “I see you’ve been doing some growing, son... and on your 18th birthday also. Just as I predicted.” David Sr smiled broadly at his son, the son he hardly ever saw, and yet was still proud of. “Whoa, wait a sec... before we get into anything else. You’re telling me that you’re dead?” Now this was a dream that David could really do with waking up from. But there was something about how it was presented to him, and the fact that it felt so much more than a dream, that piqued David’s curiosity. “Yes, it was all part of the bargain I made with, Old Nick here,” said David Sr, and slapped the back of Patrick Hernandez as if they were old buddies. Which, in fact, they were. The Devil looked up from his scribbling and flashed a mouthful of pearly whites at David. They were all pristinely bright, except for one bad one that ruined what would otherwise have been a perfect smile. “You made a deal... with the devil?” David looked horrified and began to back away from the glow of the fire. “Of course, we go way back, him and me. We both got our business degree together. Nick and the males of this family go right back to your great, great, great, great grandfather Efram Driscoll, who began this family corporation, which is now worth twenty million, billion dollars. We practically own two thirds of the free world,” said David senior, proudly. “You mean that Efram made the first deal with the Devil, a tradition that carried down all the way to.... shit... me?” David had never considered himself religious in any way, but if this dream was real, then there was some hot shit going down... shit that was hotter than Hell. Old Nick Hernandez put down his writing pad and began to roll a joint. He was a man of very few words, it seemed. “Yes, our forefathers all wished for great wealth and influence over the masses, and that sustained the family, and shall continue to through future generations, provided you don’t stay gay all your life and beget a son and heir. You need to pass on the tradition, you see. It was the nature of the first deal made by old Efram. By the time it was my turn, I didn’t need anything in the world whatsoever, cos I was set for life. When you were born, and we saw just how scrawny you were, I thought “Jeez, he’s a runt and a half. He’s a weak link in a long line of strong links in our exceptional family chain. I said to Nick that you should be big... really big. And that was meant to come to fruition on your 18th birthday.” “Fuck... that’s deep, Dad. I don’t know what to say. So now Satan has come to collect... your soul, obviously, and drag you down to hell?” Suddenly David felt bad. He hadn’t seen much of his father, growing up, and now he was never going to see him ever again after this dream. Life for David, it seemed, had just hit a fork in the road. “It won’t be like that at all, Davey,” Satan Hernandez said, finally speaking, now that he was puffing away contentedly on his huge spliff. He drew slowly and deeply, before passing the weed to David’s father. “Your Dad and I are old friends. Why, he’s been to hell many, many times. Even got beach-front property there, next to the golf course and spa. Hell is very misunderstood, not like the Hell people imagine thanks to Dante Alighieri, that allegorical ass. Damaged my public image for centuries, he did. Hell’s not a bad place at all. But that’s the rules. Souls are like tax in Hell. Your Dad gets to live there forever, but he has to pay his dues, too.” Silence washed through the dream for what seemed like a long time. Finally, David was the one to break it: “What about me? I have to make a deal, too? But I can’t think of anything. I’m too young to make such a big decision.” He turned to focus squarely on his father: “What am I supposed to do now?” David Driscoll toked on the spliff for a long moment and considered all options. He finally came up with: “You could sacrifice some of your size. Lose, say, 60 percent of it. You’d still be huge, but not like you are now. What are you now, easily 2000 lbs. or more?” “2666,” Satan interjected jovially, liking so much about that number. “But... but... I like being this huge,” David looked down at his magnificent muscles, each one swollen and bulging beyond all extremity. He was ravenous for muscle-growth, but a deal had to be hammered out before this dream came to an end. “Tell you what,” said Satan, taking out a harmonica for no reason. He began to play his rendition of “Devil in a blue dress”. It was a most horrendous version. “I will take off 666 pounds of muscle and convert it into your soul tax. You get to live out your life as before, but your size will be frozen at 2000 lbs. Also, to secure future deals with your bloodline, you have to produce a son and heir. Artificial insemination will suffice, so long as the little tyke is born and has a soul, which he will have, obviously.” More silence ensued. David didn’t know what to think. Finally, though, as the flames began to shrink and die, casting the immediate area into a spreading dimness, he reluctantly agreed to get smaller. “Great, kid. You won’t regret it,” said Satan, pulling out a contract which David had to sign in blood. The deal was done. David would be the first of the Driscolls since before Efram to avoid spending eternity in hell. He said goodbye to his father and shook hands with Satan, before... ... he awakened with a start and saw that he was in Ray’s fuck bed. What time was it? How long had he been asleep? He quickly got out of bed, only to find Carmichael standing over him, a clean set of clothes draped over his forearms. “I trust everything is now clear with the Sir?” Carmichael had never smiled in all the years he’d served the Driscoll family. Now, for the first time, he smiled broadly, displaying a mouthful of pearly whites, their perfection marred solely by a single bad tooth... the very same one as... “It’s you. That dream was real. What the hell?” “What the Hell indeed, Sir. You should get dressed. It’s after 5pm. You were asleep for most of the afternoon.” Carmichael began to lay out the master’s clothes for the evening. “Wait, how small am I?” David raced downstairs to the weight room to check himself over. The place was deserted, unusual for this time of day... all evidence of the calamity his growing had resulted in had been washed clean. Everything was mundane and without any reverberation of events. “Hmmm, I’m still pretty fuckin’ huge,” he exclaimed, gawping at the hyper-muscularity that occupied almost inch of his hulking bod. He’d come out of this deal better than he expected. He was four times as huge as he had been at 7:00 am that morning. He flexed a humongous, freaky double biceps pose, and his arm cannons did a 21-gun salute to his hugeness. He flared his lats, and they became engorged on blood, hulking out his mass to insane levels. He bounced the heaviest pecs in all creation, whilst flexing his mammoth quads, one after the other. He became lost to his pec-bouncing and almost passed out when he felt so much manly pec-meat heaving up and down on his chest. His pecs alone must have weighed about two hundred pounds apiece. His measurements were totally off the scale. “I will always be the hugest, strongest monster bodybuilder on Earth,” he exclaimed, somewhat proudly, bunching his torso into a most-muscular pose, leaning all his weight into it to maximize the flexing and the size it generated. “But I can never get bigger than I am now. Not now, not ever.” It was a sobering thought. He returned to Ray’s office to get dressed, his body somehow clean of soil, but with just enough of his musk on him to make the night ahead be the best one of his life so far. The oddly supernatural Carmichael had brought a most splendid outfit for David to wear. And despite that the birthday boy had grown by 400%, somehow the manservant had found an outfit that fit him perfectly. David started by rolling on the pants. He always put on pants like any lesser man puts on a condom, for the material of this clothes always hugged his muscles so tightly. The pants were mustard colored, a spandex and polyester mix that looked like a second skin as it clung to his parts, showing every striation and separation of each massive muscle. His cock and balls were truly enormous, and David had a bit of trouble squeezing his junk-load into the crotch of the pants. But he finally did it, the doing up of each visible button of the five-button fly a miniature triumph. The pants had very wide bell-bottoms, but even the bells clung to his huge calves at their widest points. Being of an early seventies design, the exposed button-fly wasn’t the only feature that nodded back to the retro-fashion era; the front square pockets of the pants were square-cut and dark brown in color, the same as the pockets on the back. And his bubble butt looked so beautiful and shapely in the pants, his crack sucking in the central seam and drenching it in musk. Next he put on the most stretchy, clingiest disco-style button-front shirt he’d ever worn. The material was semi-transparent, save for the pattern on the material, which was comprised of so many crescent moons and shooting star motifs. The flyaway collar was high and broad, settling well over his massive traps, but, like the pants, David had trouble doing up some of the buttons, specifically the ones behind which the most bulging pair of pecs ever built sat squarely on the widest chest ever sported by a man. He decided to leave a few buttons open to show off the fine brown hair speckling his pec-mounds. He finished off the ensemble with a gold chain around his bull’s neck, sporting a medallion in the shape of a tiny bodybuilder frozen in a perpetual full-lat spread. Similarly, the buckle of his belt showed a bodybuilder flexing a double biceps. Carmichael brought stylists into the gym to cut and style the hunky David’s hair into a sexy seventies look. They lightened it to a coppery blonde and cut it tight at the back but left a long, flowing fringe framed on either side by manly sideburns which didn’t overpower his looks. Finally, when he was fully dressed, he stepped back to admire himself. “Pure 1973,” he remarked, posing and flexing for all he was worth, testing the strength of the shirt, especially the buttons, in case they started to ping. They held, although some threads snapped in the shirt’s arms when David flexed his biceps. “How do I look from the back, Carmichael?” “Stunning, Sir. The width of your shoulders compared to the absurdly small taper of your waist spans far wider in the relaxed position than even the biggest superheavyweight is capable of when pulling a rear lat-spread. Your back is a “W” up top, but a lower-case “v” at its bottom, diminished still further by the massive and globular swell of your rectal area, making the button-flap pockets of the pants sit way more horizontally than vertically.” Carmichael was good at describing stuff. David could easily picture how his pants looked from behind. He flexed his glutes to their fullest, causing the buttons on the pockets to strain as their endurance was tested. David turned to the side, to take in his incredible profile. He noticed that the ball-shaped form of his biceps and triceps had stretched the shirt sleeves to near-bursting point... and... oh god... his upper arms were thicker than his waist, thicker by loads. The huge bulge in the front of his button-flies was extremely prominent, and so David played around with his meat, adjusting it inside the pants so that the bulge stuck out as far as it would go, whilst still flaccid. The distance between the apex of his crotch bulge, and the farthest point of his bubble butt at its most flexed, was a mind-blowing four feet. But that was easily dwarfed by the distance between his nipples when his pecs were most flexed and the middle of his back. He was so big, his muscles primed and pumped, traps, delts, bis, tris, pecs, abs, serratus, glutes, quads, hamstrings, and calves... maxed out and bulging beyond belief. “I guess I will have to get used to being stuck like this, never to grow ever again. But I’m certain of one thing... this shirt will be shredded before the night is out.” It was David’s holiest vow to himself on his 18th birthday. “Come, Sir, the car is waiting. I have you booked in for dinner at the Fangucci Bistro for 7pm sharp. You’re at Elizabeth Hurley’s table. I... er... arranged for her to come down with a twenty-four-hour strain of sweaty-cheese-minge syndrome. You know how hard it is to get a table there.” Carmichael, the devil that he was, was such a cool guy to know. “Do I have a dinner date for the evening, too?” David was starting to get horny again. He would love to get to know the son of Consuela the cook, the hunky Manuel who took over at weekends from the regular gardener to the Driscoll Palatial Estate. He saw him in his mind, now, stripped down to his jeans, his Mexican body toasted a healthy brown in the afternoon sun, cooling down under the hose he used to water the plants, his manly flesh modest but evident in the visible cuts between his work-hardened muscles. “You’re getting boned, Sir. Might I remind you to be careful regarding the pinging of buttons? And your dinner date is Manuel, the son of the cook, if you must know.” Carmichael had a devilish glint in his eye now. Had he read David’s mind? End of Part 1
  17. SethClock

    Misplaced gift

    First story here, hope you guys like it . As a small note, while the story involves a father and son there´s no incest btw. (Someone reminded me I hadn't reposted this from the old forums, so here it is again, I should add there were some hot suggestions in the comments previously but I don´t plan to continue this story, if anyone wants to use a similar concept like this one they're more than welcome to do so) --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Danny eyed the suspicious box he had received, he could only come up with one person that would send an unmarked and unexpected gift, but he wanted to give his rival more credit than that. At least a little bit. He considered getting rid of it, or just pretend he didn't get it, even if that meant showing he was actually scared of what might happen. "No, Marvin would just love that" Danny muttered under his breath. Both Danny and Marvin were part of a secret group, few select people that unlocked their potential for magic, and ever since Danny joined and showed innate talent, smarts and good looks, Marvin, the previous star member had been a pest for him. It wasn't until a few weeks back that Danny got a higher rank than Marvin that the man actually lost it and stormed out of a meeting, Danny would pity him if he wasn't a goddamn jerk. After that scene Marvin hadn't shown his face near Danny, and now this anonymous box, reeking of magic showed up out of nowhere. (Maybe dad received it, but he always opens my stuff...) Danny thought, he lived with his dad and there was nobody else that could get the box inside. (Whatever, knowing Marvin is probably just a stupid mildly inconvenient enchantment) He gave another look at the medium sized box and decided to leave if alone for now, and do a little research on some dispelling methods to get the *gift* safely, it shouldn't take too long for him. Hours passed and Danny had lost track of time, somewhat losing interest in Marvin's childish behavior and doing some actual important research on the side. He was so focused on his texts and spell components that he didn't hear his dad coming home. Leonard, Danny's father, was a middle-aged man, but still good looking, fit, confident and strong headed, he entered his home as he always did and spotted the box. Leonard gave it a quick look, Danny was already home so that meant this box wasn't for him, so he figured that whatever was inside was meant for him and not his son. Leonard took the box and went to his room before opening it, once he saw what was inside, he couldn't help but chuckle. "This little fucker" Leonard said between laughs. Inside the box, was what seemed to be an ordinary fleshjack, Leonard recognized it instantly and examined it intently. (He must think I don't get laid enough, well not with him still in the house) Leonard thought still amused, the fleshjack even seemed to be fit for his size, but it was probably just an average one, in fact it didn't have any other particular detail. (But why not give it a try?) He wasn't one to squander a chance like this. Leonard got comfortable on his bed, and jerked his cock a bit to get it fully hard, it was already half hard after seeing the toy. His thick 7 inches rose to full mast and Leonard lubed his cock, he was getting more excited to give it a try, having a toy made to fulfill his sexual needs was something that he never thought about, but seemed very enticing now. Leonard gripped the fleshjack and placed it on top of his cock, gently lowering it as his cockhead entered it, he moaned as his cock was enveloped by the toy, slowly and deliciously gripping inch after inch of Leonard's cock. "Fuck..." Leonard groaned, the fleshjack felt perfect around his cock, as it belonged there, as if the toy molded itself around his member. He knew that these things got better as time passed and all that, but he never imagined how good it could feel. Leonard grabbed the toy with one hand and lifted it, feeling the seamless friction in his cock leaving, and then lowered the fleshjack again, the sensation coming back, his toes curled and he stopped for a moment, groaning and moaning, he didn't want to cum just yet, he had to keep fucking this thing for as long as he could... ------------- Danny finally got his stuff in order, and with a potential dispelling method, materials and safeguards, he went back downstairs where the box was, except it no longer was there. "Huh? Where is it?" He was so absorbed in his own feud that he forgot about the potential third party in his own house that could've taken the box. (Is that it? A disappearing box?) He knew Marvin was petty and sort of an idiot but apparently even that was giving him too much credit. Danny examined the living room and any other place that might have been affected somehow by the unknown magic box yet nothing was different. (Whatever, it's not like I was that excited or anything) He examined the table again, no residual magic or any trace whatsoever, angry and frustrated he went to his room, this time to do something actually worth his time. ----- Leonard meanwhile was beyond horny, his pace had sped up and the toy was bobbing up and down on his cock, the man was so focused on his own pleasure, eyes closed and the occasional grunt, that he hadn't noticed the toy was heavier, bigger in fact, not only that, but Leonard's cock was still fitting perfectly inside it. The fleshjack had grown thicker and made for an 8 incher, each time Leonard's cock entered it, the cock came out slightly bigger, before entering the toy and stretching it bigger as well, the cycle being repeated over and over. Leonard wasn't even aware that as horny as he was, as fast as he was handling the toy, he wasn't able to cum even if he wanted to, only abundant precum flowed inside the toy, keeping it well lubed and easy to fulfill its purpose. "Fucking... Fuck... So good..." Leonard said mindlessly, grabbing now the fleshjack with both hands with some space to spare as the toy and the cock inside it had grown beyond 9 inches now. Leonard didn't even think about that fact, his hands pumping the toy as if his life depended on it, faster and harder, speeding up the cycle more and more... ---- Danny managed to calm down after distracting himself for a while, he opened the window and took a deep breath, but he only got to that point before he noticed his dad's car on the driveway and realized that he had completely ignored the possibility that his dad... Danny's phone rang, he angrily picked it up to quickly tell whoever was calling to fuck off. "What?!" He growled, hoping the person got the hint. "Haha! So, I take it you got my *present*" A disdainful voice said, Danny recognized it instantly. "Oh, you mean your disappearing box? Very clever, hope you didn't bust too many braincells coming up with it" Danny figured he could play it cool; his dad might be okay, the magic didn't seem to be that powerful if it didn't leave any trace. "What do you mean?" Marvin quickly bit the bait. "You don't fool me, you sounded pissed off, you must have opened it!" "I'm pissed off because a moron interrupted me after already wasting my time with a useless box" Danny replied. "Or was it supposed to do something worthwhile? Unlike you" He hoped Marvin would give him the information he needed about the gift. "But... You shouldn't be able to... Do anything right now" Marvin said stunned, Danny had to bite his tongue to keep his facade. "I paid a lot for that curse!" "Damn, you can't even make your own curses. Pathetic even for you." Danny regained some confidence after humiliating Marvin for now. "So you're not going to tell me what it was meant to do? It really is the thought that counts with gifts you know." Marvin had to answer now, he had to... "FUCK YOU!" Maybe Danny had pushed him too far. "I know it's there, you must've tried to get rid of it, but let me tell you that you can't. It's going to find you one way or another, even if I have to get involved..." Marvin hanged up. "Damn it!" Now Danny had to expect that idiot to show up any time now, it was pretty late night already, not that he could get anyone else involved. And speaking of anyone else... Danny rushed to his dad's room, preparing to shield himself or fight something off, as he approached, he could hear some noises, but nothing too bad, maybe a light struggle or something just as innocuous. He opened the door and braced himself, not that it was of any use at the sight that greeted him. Leonard was on his back and fucking a now huge fleshjack, holding it firmly with an obvious desperate grip, his hips trusting wildly, his huge cock going in and out of the toy, he was fucking with fervor, the now 11 inches fleshjack welcoming his cock and granting it more size with each trust. Danny stared at the scene completely numb, his dad not only had a huge cock but was fucking a toy completely out of his mind. It took a long while for Danny to come to his senses, his dad just kept fucking the toy, either not caring or noticing that his own son was now in the room, but it was as Danny noticed that the fleshjack was growing along his dad's cock that he snapped back to reality and tried to formulate a plan. "Dad! Can you hear me? Are you alright?" Danny approached slowly, fearing his dad might decide the toy was not enough and decided to go for the nearest person. After getting no response he came close to Leonard's face. "Dad! Come on, say something!" "So... Fucking... Horny..." Leonard said between trusts and heavy breaths, his face was covered in sweat, just as the rest of his body, his face was the picture of pleasure and libido, he slowed down his pace, getting tired after fucking for hours and not being able to cum. "What the hell..." Danny watched as his dad's huge cock had grown even bigger now, easily surpassing twelve inches and with an intimidating girth, the veins in the member were angry and pulsing and the man's balls were definitely bigger too, full and aching for a release that had been withheld for so long. Leonard turned to his side and now fucked the toy slowly, as if making love to it, still drooling and groaning like a madman. "Shit..." Danny was also getting horny but he had to avoid whatever curse this was, he left the room quickly and closed the door. (Think...) Danny paced outside his dad's room, the obscene noises speeding up again as his dad probably started furiously fucking the toy again. (The thing makes your horny just by being near it, no wonder he's gone mad with lust when fucking it...) Danny kept trying to figure out the nature of the magic. (But why is it growing?...) He quickly remembered the dispelling materials and ran to gather them, hopefully he found the right one. ----- Leonard roared in pleasure, his hips and hands pumping with abandon his now 13 incher inside the fleshjack, he somehow wasn't tired yet, his arms still felt strong just like his lower body, in fact they felt even more vigorous now. His heavily inflated balls pulsed with another wave of growth, full to the brim with cum and producing enough testosterone for 2 young virile men, all of it keeping Leonard in his sexual frenzy, yet the toy didn’t let him cum. His enormous cock was dumping precum nonstop, so much that it leaked down to his balls and thighs, keeping the fleshjack lubed as the member expanded, the room reeked of sex and sweat, the toy started creaking as it once again grew to accommodate the now 14 thick incher inside it. Leonard opened his eyes, and could see his own huge member swallowed by the fleshjack, he felt like a bull, like a big virile bull in rut, his fat balls ached for release but he didn't want to stop either. The door to the room was kicked open as Danny entered, he quickly arranged the components and recited the spell. (This has to work) He thought. Seconds felt like minutes as the magic energy flowed and stuck to the cursed fleshjack, both magic energies clashing together. Danny held his breath, hoping to see the purple energy from the toy being vanished by the white dispelling light. He watched in as the energy from the toy seemingly swallowed the other magic and both disappeared, only to watch in horror as the purple energy came back brighter and bigger than ever. "GRRRRR! AHH!" Leonard roared, Danny watched in panic as the fleshjack expanded incredibly fast, inflating his dad's cock along with it, the plastic creaked and groaned as it grew, Leonard let go of it as he braced his hands on whatever surface he could grip, the toy's weight leaning towards his chest, easily reaching his chest now. The roars of pain and pleasure, combined with the toy's sounds of expansion stopped as it got to just above 20 inches, thicker than Danny's arm, Danny saw the parts of the massive cock not covered by the toy, throbbing violently and covered with big pulsing veins. He ran out of the room, hoping his dad was still alright, Leonard had seemingly passed out from the ecstasy he was feeling and Danny didn't know what to do now. Before he could lose his composure, Danny heard some noises coming from outside, he looked out the window and saw Marvin waddling in the yard, his clothes a mess, apparently, he teleported and fucked it up as usual. That gave Danny an idea, Marvin had to cooperate to break the curse together but Danny knew he would need some convincing, or forcing. Danny quickly prepared another spell while Marvin made his way inside the house, he could deal with that after his dad was back to normal. -------- Marvin cleaned up as best as he could and magically opened Danny's door, he was furious, the cursed object was supposed to make Danny into a mess while Marvin just gloated comfortably and now he had to get involved. He looked for the object's magic, his vision more sensitive to his own energy, and followed the trace upstairs, from what he could hear, it seemed Danny had finally fallen victim to the curse. Marvin snickered, he was almost jumping in joy at the mental image of Danny's pathetic state after using the object, but what he saw was definitely not that. A man, Marvin didn't know who, was hugging an enormous fleshjack, tenderly fucking it with what seemed a massively long and thick cock, big orange size balls rested below his massive endowment. Marvin's mind was reeling, this man, he looked... powerful, intimidating, not only was his manhood beyond human proportions but his body looked strong and masculine, his musk was intoxicating, his deep grunts of pleasure made Marvin's knees weak, he radiated masculinity. Marvin was on the verge of jerking off at the image before him, when he heard a voice coming from behind. "You motherfucker" Danny said as hateful as he could. Marvin turned around, his face flush and a bit of saliva dripping from his lips. "Are you seriously getting off at what you did to my dad?" "That-That's your father?" Marvin gulped, still hearing the grunts and trusts the stud made constantly. "What? How?...?" Danny huffed in impatience and anger; Marvin was wasting time with this charade. Danny glared at the man, Marvin looked like an accountant, plain and simple, he was on the shorter side, with a haircut way too groomed, thick glasses and a face that would look attractive if it wasn't constantly sneering. His slim figure didn't help him demand the attention and respect he wanted, especially not with Danny who was trying to find the right words for this sod. "Listen, you sent that... thing and before I knew it my dad was already like that" Not very eloquent but it made his point. "Now you're going to help me break that curse and get him back to normal, because for one, he doesn't even know what magic is, and two, I will make your life a living hell" "But-But..." Marvin breathed heavily, his horniness and confusion were getting the better of him. "That wasn't supposed to happen! Why on earth would I make you into that?!" Danny was now confused too. "So, what was it meant to do?" He asked yet again, clenching his fists. "Well..." Marvin groaned, this was getting worse by the minute. "The fleshjack was supposed to shrink your cock, not make it gigantic! Once you had like an inch left it would stop by itself." "God, you're a sick fuck" Danny was getting angrier. "So when will it stop now? Once his cock is bigger than what? The damn house?" "I..." Marvin turned around and licked his lips, he didn't want to think about it. "I don't know." "What do you mean, you don't know? You're the one that got it! Or at least activated it" "I don't know!" Marvin yelled. "Maybe a dispel or something" "Look, I already tried a dispel and it made it worse." Danny had to go with his original plan now, Marvin had to know, he just didn't want to help. "I want to try another method but I need your help. Now I'm not asking by the way, come with me" Danny went inside the room and Marvin followed suit. ----------- Leonard was now in all fours on the bed, still fucking the toy, which now stretched over his 22 inches of inhumanly thick meat, even his body looked different now, all that testosterone and the nonstop activity made his muscles look bigger and more defined, his body hair seemed thicker too glistening with sweat, his jaw was sharper and squarer, his stubble grown to become a thick beard, he was becoming more masculine all over. He felt powerful, with boundless energy that kept him fucking the toy as if his life depended on it, his enormous cock firing wave after wave of pleasure from every nerve ending in its overdeveloped size. "Fuck yeah!!" Leonard screamed, his deeper voice booming inside his room, he fucked harder and deeper, that's all he wanted to do from now on, use his massive cock the way it was supposed to be used. His mind started drifting, from the initial confusion, fear and uncontrollable horniness, to full acceptance, confidence and willful libido. He was a big masculine bull now, with a cock to match, his balls bounced, their weight heavy against the bed. "So fucking big..." A rush of dominance and an unbridled ego surged in him, this fleshjack was his and his alone, it served only to fit his gigantic cock and make it bigger, his pleasure and growth were the only things that mattered, and once he was satisfied, he was going to find someone to make them into his own personal cumdump... The thought alone caused a testosterone spike in him and he relished in another growth spurt... -------------- Marvin was too busy thinking about that fine stallion of a man to notice the dispel Danny was preparing, only coming to his senses when he felt the energy surge. "Since you had some part in this curse, the spell needs a component from you" Danny was quick and plucked some hair from Marvin's head. "Before you complain... shut the fuck up" Marvin just cursed under his breath, they headed to the room, and he had to hold his composure at the sight. Both men started gathering energy, which flowed into the fleshjack, Marvin got distracted staring again and noticed too late that the energy was only flowing from him now. "What are you doing?" He asked furiously at Danny, who looked smug. "This wasn't a dispel... What the...?" A sharp and deep sensation filled Marvin, he fell to his knees, it was something like he never felt before. And again, he groaned, pain, pleasure, fear, and rage bubbled up inside him, he felt like he was about to burst. "Figured a taste of your own medicine might suit you" Danny laughed, looking down at Marvin. Marvin had to clench his teeth to stop himself from screaming, he managed to look up and see the massive cock entering the toy, the sensation once again filling him up as his insides went in sensory overload, before it subsided as the enormous cock left the toy. "And... You called me... A sick fuck..." Marvin managed to say, before he came inside his pants, the sensation overloading his prostate and milking him from the inside. He was bound to the fleshjack, he fell for the trick and now his body was being split by a 2 feet long monster cock just like the toy, he was being used like an object. "Damn.. You seem to like it" Danny said, looking at how Marvin contorted and moaned, his body wasn't actually getting hurt, but all the sensations were real. "But you still have to tell me how to stop this, before you actually die from this" "I... AH!... I told you..." Marvin groaned and came again, panting non stop. "I don't... know" "Still not telling?! Seriously?" Danny yelled, this had to end already. "Make it...AH!" Marvin screamed, the sight of that mighty cock and the sensation of being filled by it was making his body and mind come undone. "It's... Fuck!" He didn't want it to stop but he felt something happening, he wanted to speak up but only moans came out. "You're a fucking idiot" Danny looked at Marvin's pathetic figure and held back from insulting him more. Danny was now desperate, he didn't want to inform any other magic member, it would ruin him, but now... A deep guttural roar filled the room, Danny turned and saw his father in what seemed a primal frenzy, magic energy brimming from Marvin and being funneled into the fleshjack. Which began pulsing dangerously. It happened fast, Leonard's cock expanded to colossal proportions, stretching the toy along with it, Marvin screamed as his body felt like it was on fire, the toy kept pulsing with growth waves, each one more violent than the last, Leonard's body grew alongside it, his muscles pulsing with power as his frame and skeleton expanded, his balls churning with mass and cum. The magic energy coming from the fleshjack was blinding Danny, as it finally couldn't hold any longer... The toy snapped, beyond 3 feet long and thicker than Danny's thigh, Leonard tried to hold it together as he fucked it with his gigantic cock, getting any more length and girth that he could, before the fleshjack burst and Leonard could finally cum. Once again, a deep primal roar filled the entire house, as wave after wave of cum was shot out of Leonard's massive cock, splashing against the walls and ceiling, covering everything and everyone in the room, the thick cum kept streaming out of Leonard's now 4 feet long cock, which was distended by the sheer amount of cum it kept pumping out. Danny shielded himself to avoid getting caught in the mess, even as more cum kept flooding the room and splashing against him, he managed to see some movement on the floor, Marvin was still conscious but he was moving erratically, for a moment Danny feared he might actually be drowning in cum but after the waves of cum slowed down he could hear desperate slurping and gulping sounds. The jets of cum were further apart now, still shooting powerfully, until it finally streamed a steady flow of cum down the massive shaft, and Leonard fell silent. "Geez..." Danny looked at the state of the room, Leonard was out as a rock, laying om the bed, Danny calculated his dad had grown to 8 feet tall and maybe weighed around 500 lbs with the added muscles, his overgrown body covered in thick cum and taking the entire bed. The humongous cock seemed to be softer but not fully down, just below 3 and a half feet, laying obscenely on top of Leonard's body, melon sized balls laying heavily between Leonard's huge thighs. And Marvin... The man was still licking and slurping all the cum he could, he looked deranged, maybe all the sensory overload had actually affected him beyond what Danny had planned. (At least he's still alive) Danny thought, after the fleshjack came undone he feared Marvin had gone with it. "Marvin, you good?" Danny asked. The man kept licking the cum, then cupping it with his hands and bringing to his mouth like a man that was stranded in a desert after finding water. "Can't... Stop..." Marvin managed to say, he was gone. Danny didn't want to deal with that right now. Danny left the room, he was tired and his mind couldn't begin to comprehend what had actually happened there, his dad seemed to be alright and probably felt better than ever, while Marvin seemed to be enjoying himself and cleaning up at the same time. The entire house reeked of cum and masculine musk, even some residual magic was palpable in the air, Danny went downstairs to get his thoughts in order, spotting a small letter under his door. *Hey Marvin, remember this toy is supposed to drain the target's magic along with their size, you won't be able to reap the rewards but if a non-magic person uses it then they'll get the benefits, in case you have a gentleman in mind ;). Anyhow - * The rest was blurred, Danny groaned in frustration, Marvin probably had the letter in his pocket and dropped it here after ruining it with somehow. "What an idiot" Danny muttered, Marvin was playing with things beyond his power and now this happened. He realized that when he linked Marvin and the toy, it began syphoning Marvin's magic and it was too much to handle. Danny sat on his couch, feeling a headache coming in, he was tired and angry and frustrated and... Before he knew it his eyes started to close and his body felt heavy, he fell asleep on the couch. ----------- *Gulp... Lick... Drink* That was all Marvin could think about, not even in his wildest fantasies he indulged himself like this. He always had to keep the image of a rule abiding and bland member, but now he didn't care about that one bit, all he wanted was to be full of cum from this muscle stud. The cum radiated energy somehow, and it filled Marvin with more lust and fervor, his body seemed to be responding to it but he wasn't even paying attention in his libidinous state. He remembered and craved that sensation of being stretched to the limit so much, to be used and abuse without a care, to be nothing but an object of pleasure, to fully submit both his body and mind totally... Speaking of which, Marvin heard the stallion groan in his sleep, his monstrous cock rising again, Marvin automatically went to him and started worshipping the man, if he even fit that definition still. Marvin licked the huge vascular arms, tasting the sweat and masculine musk, he plunged deep inside the hairy deep armpits and gorged himself on the stud's pits, his hands groped and manhandled the enormous mounds of muscle that were his pecs, his cock rubbed against the inhumanly defined and protruding abs. It wasn't until he clung desperately to that gigantic cock and unabashedly made out with the gaping urethra that the hypermasculine man woke up... "So I heard you did this..." Leonard said in a menacing deep tone, Marvin couldn't even process those words before he was gripped with inhuman strength. ------- Danny woke up stiff and with his head pounding lightly, he rubbed his eyes and unfortunately remembered the night he just had. He was musing on how to solve everything that happened until he realized the pounding wasn't in his head but coming from upstairs, moving slowly he went up, hoping his dad was alright, or at least not worse. Danny was greeted with a completely unexpected and obscene display once again, there was Marvin, except clearly changed, taller, buffer, more handsome and more importantly on his knees being viciously fucked by the muscle titan that Leonard had become. Danny saw that his dad hadn't stopped growing entirely, now bigger everywhere and his monstrous cock somehow pounding fully in and out of Marvin's muscled globular ass, which was entirely split around the sheer girth of the invading member, even with Marvin's own growth spurt the colossal cock was too large to fit naturally, an obscene and obvious bulge forming in Marvin's belly and almost reaching his torso everytime Leonard entered him fully. "Hey, son" Leonard greeted Danny cheerfully, his deep voice was raspy and reverberating in the room. "You like my new toy?" He didn't stop fucking Marvin, who just moaned mindlessly under the massive man. "I see you're alright at least. What... happened to him?" Danny asked, too confused to process that and now with another problem in his hands apparently. "Well I could hear both of you talking while I was *busy* yesterday-" Leonard planted his gigantic cock fully inside Marvin before continuing, Marvin just moaned and rubbed his distended abdomen while the other men kept talking "-and apparently this little guy was the one responsible for making me like this, so I figured I'd keep him" Leonard flexed his enormous arms, which inflated with muscle and power, he then bounced his huge heavy pecs, the muscle mounds responding accordingly. Clearly Leonard was more than happy with his transformation. "You're *keeping* him?" Danny tried to stay focused despite the erotic scene. "Yes, as his punishment and reward" Leonard said with confidence. "I saw him licking up all my cum, with hunger in his eyes, maybe all my thick masculine cum changed him for good, look at him grown up." Leonard manhandled Marvin's muscled body. "As soon as I laid eyes on him, he submitted instantly and begged me to let him worship me. So he's fine with it, right?" "Yes, master" Marvin responded instantly, even his voice had changed but he was also constantly moaning and groaning so his voice sounded raspy. "Lord..." Danny didn't know what else to say or do, so he figured he might as well leave them be. "Look I'll just let you figure this out. Marvin are you like, actually okay though?" Danny couldn't help but feel guilty. Marvin seemed too busy still groping his own body and moaning. "My son asked you a question, toy" Leonard said in a serious tone, even Danny felt a shiver down his spine at the dominant tone. "Yes, master" Marvin responded quickly. "Danny... I fucking love this, body modification magic is so hard and dangerous, yet your father just responded to it so well. He's... something else, I want to stay like this forever." "That's a good boy" Leonard resumed his fucking and Marvin started mindlessly moaning again. "Okay..." Danny just left, they were alright and he didn't see a reason to worry, for now. ----- "Fuck, you feel so good" Leonard growled, his gigantic cock had fully rearranged Marvin's insides, making it fit perfectly and accept Leonard's monstrous cock with little effort. "Do you like the cock you created, the body you gave me, the beast you unleashed?!" Leonard roared, pounding Marvin without a care, the man just took it, his body had turned into nothing but a tool for his master's pleasure. "I love it, master! Use me as you want!" Marvin yelled, this sent Leonard off the edge and his massive balls started releasing torrents of cum, his gigantic cock swelled and shot wave after wave of cum inside Marvin, both men completely lost in the moment as Marvin's abdomen started bloating from all the cum being deposited in him. Leonard rubbed the growing bulging belly with pride and lust. "You're nothing but my cumdump, you hear me?" Leonard said, completely serious and dominant. "Yes, master!" "You live to serve me and my massive cock" "Yes! Fuck yes!" "Good boy. Your alpha will keep you satisfied. But now... You better start finding a new way to make me bigger..."
  18. Hello all! I have edited the first part of this story after receiving some feedback from the very helpful Mdlftr (THANK YOU SO MUCH!). I feel like I have fleshed these characters out a little better now. Please enjoy! Fine… Be a Brat Andy quickly ran his fingers through his honey blond hair, sweeping it back and out of his emerald eyes. His perfectly maintained lab coat was almost blindingly white, matching the pristine teeth that Dan had so graciously given him last month. Just because. He giggled a little thinking about it, flashing a blinding smile that made Yolanda Ángeles, the lab tech from epigenetics, blush all the way to her ears. She grinned and looked away from him, swiping her nearly perfectly manicured nails through her raven hair. He saw the tiniest of chips in the cerulean polish on her left pointer nail. Once he walked past her and no one could see his face, Andy’s smile got even broader. “Oh honey, I’m much more high maintenance than you. You couldn’t afford me on a lab tech salary. My last facial cost as much as that Sentra you drive.” He thought, in a self-satisfied manner. He didn’t really want to compete with Yolanda, but he didn’t mind flirting with her a little. Andy knew he was gay and he loved powerful, masculine bodies. His partner, on the other hand, was sexually omnivorous and consumed the finest bodies like candies. Andy turned and looked at Yolanda’s tight body in her white lab coat. The garment hugged her every curve, exaggerating her well-endowed femininity. This was not missed by her, and she began to sway her hips a little more, slipping her hands into her pockets to pull the coat tighter to her body. He grinned. Maybe he would invite her to the estate to spend time with his sir. Andy’s smoldering eyes glittered with excitement. All of these: the money, the attitude, the looks, were just a few of the perks of having a man like Danny. Andy’s daily allowance was enough to be considered “fuck you money” by even some of the doctors here, even if he didn’t spend it all. The lab tech had quietly amassed a tidy nest egg. As Andy walked through down the hall, his unbuttoned lab coat fluttered around his thick thighs. His quads rubbed against one another in his slacks, the powerful muscles of his thighs making the fabric rustle. He looked down slightly as he pulled his card key out of his pocket, trying to look over his pecs towards his hand. Carefully, he pulled the plastic card from his pocket, smiling at the way that his legs had made the card warp slightly. With a swipe he pushed the door open. The brilliant white of the lab poured into his eyes as he walked in. He blinked at the overall brightness as his eyes adjusted to the sterile room. Chrome fixtures glittered on the tables and under the chemical hoods that lined the walls. It was totally devoid of all personal character. Professor Luthers, Andy’s biology advisor in college, had encouraged putting one’s own spice on their workspace by putting up pictures or even naming the lab equipment. The man called the centrifuge ‘Shirley Temple’ because of the way it tap-danced across the counter without its little rubber feet, for god’s sake. Andy could almost hear the professor whistling “Animal Crackers in my soup…” But Dr. Chapin, the lab manager here, was a different story. He had split his life into little compartments, quarantining the various aspects of his person into boxes. Everyone here was expected to do the same. Lab life was meant to be neat, tidy, organized. There was no room for humor here. Andy smiled as his eyes adjusted and zeroed in on the only other person in the lab, an elderly man by the name of Lewis Branson who had run their lab section for the past five years. “Oh… Hullo, Andrew. Good to see you today. I wasn’t sure our shifts would line up ever again.” The gray-haired doctor at the counter looked at him and smiled benignly. Andy gave a slightly forced grin. “Hello there, Dr. Branson. Always a pleasure. I’ve recently returned to the morning shift after working afternoons while my partner was doing the same” Andy twiddled his hands a little. “We try to line up our schedules to spend as much time as possible together.” The ancient scientist was the only one in the entire facility that called him ‘Andrew,’ and it slightly irked him. Dr. Branson knew there was also a young lady here that went by the name ‘Andi,’ and somehow the nickname ‘Andy with a y’ didn’t quite stick in his octogenarian head. Being called Andrew reminded him too much of his rich bitch of a mother. Andy could almost see her sniff as she said “Nicknames are unbecoming of a person of your social standing, dear. It’s so terribly middle class.” Well, once he had finished college on her dime, he cut her off and never saw her again. He liked being pretty and rich, but he didn’t fancy being a part of his mother’s collection. He would not be a bauble on the shelf. Thank goodness Danny gave him the life to which he had grown accustomed. And then some. “What are you working on today, sir?” “Well, I believe I may have finally made a breakthrough in the anxiety case…” He held up a vial of liquid that was somehow a lurid pink that even Pepto Bismol couldn’t hope to imitate. “You know I’ve been working on helping people with crippling anxiety correct their brain chemistry so that they can more fully participate in society, yes? I figured that if I can use this to turn half of the four f’s off, and the other half on…” The old man shrugged. “The four f’s? I thought there were only three.” “Quite… fight, flight, or freeze. But we all know the fourth.” The old man was suddenly quite shifty. He looked like a boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Andy had never known him to be naughty. “Fuuuornication. Fornication.” Andy flashed a winning smile at the doctor, thoroughly amused. “So, this flips off those two switches then.” “Oh yes! Those get turned off and allow the patient to have more fun, loosen up. Not be rolled over by others.” The doctor put the vial back in the small refrigerator, locking it. “Maybe even help them be a little more assertive. We just have to be careful. I’m not entirely sure what it’ll do to a healthy brain yet.” Dr. Branson turned and found himself face to face with Andy’s chest. “Oh… um… you’re a little close there, Andrew.” Andy licked his lips and gave his hard chest a gentle pop in the doctor’s face, keeping his attention focused right on him. It was easy to reach around and slide the coin into the latch to prevent the fridge from sealing completely. “Have you worked out a dosage yet, doctor?” Andy gave his winningest smile, knowing that the doctor was one of those he could easily push around using just his looks and charm. Andy’s brilliant white teeth glittered, reflected in the doctor’s doe eyes. Branson was asexual for all he knew, but he could still be distracted and plied with the right moves. With something as simple as putting his ample chest close to the doctor’s face, Andy managed to fluster his coworker to the point of nearly being a drooling idiot. He grinned. He had that effect on most men. Danny was the only one that seemed capable of resisting his charm. Andy had made sure that everything about his body was sculpted perfection, even before Danny’s money. He pushed his arms together slightly, pushing his pecs forward and making the ample mounds rise and harden. The topmost button, always so loose these days, popped open with ease and revealed another two inches of meaty pec cleavage along with his clean-shaven chest. His chest looked almost grainy with the gooseflesh on it from the chill environment of the lab. The mint green plaid of his shirt bulged out; squares forced to curve by the might of his chest. Andy’s biceps quivered slightly in his tight sleeves as they rose closer to their twenty-one-inch peaked height. He tensed his entire upper body, almost growling with pleasure and intrigue. “I would love to know how you calculate your dosages for trials. I’m always looking for new methods that are healthier for our clients and subjects.” “Well… I… generally do about two milligrams per kilo of bodyweight. I would need a 100mg dose once a day. So, someone like you…” The doctor gulped. “Would probably need about 250mg to 290mg per day.” He gulped again. “And someone bigger than me? Say around…” “It doesn’t matter…” The doctor slipped away. “Two milligrams per kilogram is about what you’ll need.” Andy smiled. Branson hadn’t noticed that the fridge didn’t fully latch. That pink stuff was going to be in his lunchbox this afternoon. He just knew it. As Branson turned away, Andy licked his lips. If it could make someone with anxiety more assertive, then what would it do to him? * * * The car horn honked as Andy pressed the button on the key fob. He had shucked his lab coat in favor of his deerskin leather jacket. The fluffy wool of the collar and cuffs kept him nice and warm in the crisp November air. He loved the way the faun color accentuated his features perfectly. His gaze was opaqued by a pair of mirrored aviator shades that only enhanced his lantern jaw and the perfectly kept stubble. His hair shook a little in the wind, the brilliant blond shimmering as his Tesla pulled up to where he stood. Andy slipped into the driver’s seat and placed his lunchbox on the chair next to him. He made sure to turn the air conditioner down as much as possible, keeping the entire vehicle frigid. Andy gave a little smirk, thinking about the pink tube in his lunchbox. Branson was so easy to distract. One or two pops with his pecs and Andy had been able to pop the latch on the fridge. His smirk turned into a full-on grin as he sped out of the parking lot. His prodigious manhood gave a light twitch in his pants, slowly hardening as he thought about the powerful hands that Dan had made him build, glad he had been able to give the lightest of squeezes on the latch and snap it. Andy gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and watched as his forearms rippled. He licked his lips. Andy was hot. He knew it. His head just barely brushed the roof of his car thanks to his six-foot six height. His thick, 275-pound body filled the space between the steering wheel and the seat. His pecs heaved as the car slowly made its way through the streets and began to drive itself to the highway. He relaxed a little as he took the ramp onto the interstate that would take him home. With a quick twist, he turned on the radio and rock music blared through the speakers. He reached over and grabbed his lunchbox, opening it up and pulling out one of the neon pink vials. He hadn’t noticed inside, but the liquid had an almost crystalline translucence that made it glitter like a pink diamond. Turning it, he saw the potion glimmer, slipping thickly against the glass of the vial. “It’s now or never, I suppose.” With a quick motion, he tipped the contents of the vial down his throat. The taste was… neon. There was not any other way to describe it. It was like cracking open a glowstick and chugging the contents. He could swear that he could see the potion creeping down his throat and into his stomach. His belly grumbled as the potion hit. “Oh god yes… that feels good.” With a quick zip, he closed up the lunch box. “I can’t wait to slip Dan his…” What he had not accounted for was that the 300mL vial was intended to be a concentrate, something to be mixed into fillers to dilute it to the proper dosage. Instead of the 250mg dose he thought he was taking, he had taken almost four full doses. The liquid burned through his veins, surging as his heart pounded in his thick chest. He flicked on the radio, tuning it to one of the local stations. He gave a little cheer as one of his favorite songs came over the speakers. Turning it up until the windows vibrated, he sang along. “OW! He’s a brick… house! He’s mighty-mighty, just lettin’ it all hang out… He’s a brick… house! That boy is stacked and that’s a fact, ain’t holdin’ nothin’ back!” Of course, he had to update the Commodores lyrics a bit to suit his own sensibilities. There was no real way to explain how the twenty-nine-year-old had come to have a favorite song from the nineties. Perhaps it had happened in high school, on those morning rides to school with his dad before he had been able to drive himself. Maybe that class on music appreciation where the professor had shown the video in class and then shown a video of drag queens and beautiful women walking and dancing to the song. The cars speakers shifted as the song ended, the sound of a ring coming over them. The marimba ring echoed as he turned the audio down to a more appropriate level for speaking. With a wicked grin, he pressed the button to answer the call. “Hello, sir. How was your day on the trading floor?” Andy smiled. Dan worked erratic hours from home, meeting with clients all over the world and divesting them of their shares in multi-million-dollar companies. He was a shrewd trader. Somehow, he always knew which deals would pay off the best and would request to be paid in stock rather than in cash if his gut told him a company would do well. He had ridden the market’s bubbles all the way until they had burst and had quietly built a fortune to rival titans like Zuckerberg and Bezos. “Mmm… I like that, baby. The first thing you do is ask me how I’m doing. Didn’t even consider yourself.” “Well… I know I had a good day, babe. So, I gueeeess I can ask about yours.” He giggled, elongating his ‘guess’ with slight sarcasm. Andy licked his lips, thinking about how that would affect him once he got home. The minute long pause was palpable, swelling up like a balloon in his Tesla until it took up all the air. He could swear that he could hear the windows cracking. Andy shifted his feet uncomfortably, feeling the weight of the silence pressing on him. His leather shoes creaked as his toes flexed. “Ahhh… are you feeling a little spicy today? Let’s see if I can’t get that out of you when you get home. I don’t think you need to have an attitude.” “I think I’ve earned the right to be a little spicy, Danny. I had a really awesome day. So, I think I get to be a little bit bratty. You’re just gonna have to deal with it.” “Danny? Not ‘sir’? Not ‘daddy’? Not even ‘Dan’?” Dan chuckled on the other end of the phone. “You’re cruising for a bruising, acting like a brat like that. I think we’re going to have to take away a few privileges.” “Ahh… If you think I need to be punished, Danny, so be it… But I think that you’ll really like what I bring home. I managed to sneak a little something from the lab for us.” The little act of defiance was electric, coursing through his veins. Andy knew that Danny didn’t like when his power was challenged. He grunted and adjusted his collar, feeling the open buttons tighten ever so slightly. He didn’t know it yet, but the thrill… the adrenaline from disobedience… it was doing much more than dance through his brain like Christmas lights. His thick pecs, already swollen from hours spent in the gym, had begun to swell. The round mounds of flesh thickened as power trickled into them. The tiniest bead of sweat began to slip down his neck into the deepening cleavage. His neck cracked a bit and started to swell outwards, corded muscle bulging under the skin. Andy’s delts rippled and swelled out, his shoulders pulling wider as he bit his lower lip. His khaki pants complained as his quads flexed and swelled outwards, pushing the legs tighter. His pant cuffs rose a fraction of an inch as his calves bulged out. His feet ached as his shoes reshaped around his swelling toes. His hair crept closer to the ceiling of the Tesla as his thick glutes swelled up, pushing him higher in the seat. The slight exertion made his cock throb in his slacks. But, no matter how erotic, it was brief. It was a spasm, so he didn’t fully notice. He just felt the need to adjust himself. “Well then, little one…” Andy shivered and practically melted at the growl from his lover. Dan was the only man he knew that had a deeper voice than his own. He swore he could hear the crystals in the library chandelier rattling. “…you might find that you have a fair bit to make up for once you get home if your news isn’t to my liking. Trading today did not go as well as I had hoped.” Dan sighed. “I only managed to make another fifty million today. I was hoping to get a certain deal with EnerTech to go through… but one of the old fogeys on the board wasn’t willing to sell his shares in the company. I only netted forty five percent for my client today, but I’ll be hitting it again tomorrow. He wants majority ownership before the end of the week, and it is a trillion-dollar company. If I land this deal, we’ll be set for life. I also snapped up majority ownership of a supplement company that I’m planning to sell off to the online supplement families… just a temporary acquisition.” Andy could hear his lover’s stress bubbling under the surface. The man had had a long day. He licked his lips, burning with desire. Dan would hopefully be having an even longer evening that led into the wee hours of the morning if he had his way. “I’ll see you soon. I expect you to come home, do your workout, then make me something just as delicious as you are to help make my bitter day sweet. I expect you to bring it to my office at 6:30, as I finish up my trading day.” There was an almost perfunctory click as Dan put the phone down, hanging up. Andy screamed with delight. His blood bubbled as he thought of how he was pushing his dom’s buttons. He was already breathing hard with anticipation. He bit his lower lip and rubbed his crotch, a low moan slipping out. He couldn’t wait to poke the bear… hoping the bear would poke him right back. He took control of the car, pulling up to the gate that led to their shared estate. He pressed the remote on his keys and the heavy motorized gate swung open, iron bars creaking as the motor groaned. He drove in, car slipping down the oak lined driveway like a silver hind unknowingly fleeing into a cougar’s claws. Constructive criticism always welcome!
  19. sithspawn

    The Suit Life

    I completely forgot to re-post this after the forum got updated so for anyone who wants to read it again (or for the first time) here's The Suit Life. College life is all about the being away from home, living in dorms or frats with loads of other students, partying ‘til the sun comes up and hoping to get some qualifications at the end of it all. At least that’s what Max had been told and that was what had nearly put him off going. He was quite introverted and the thought of being around hundreds of other people had freaked him out. Thankfully one of his dad’s friends had a son going to the same college and had bought a house off campus for his son to use on the proviso that he have at least one roommate. When Max first met Jake he could understand why. Jake was, for lack of a better phrase, scatter-brained. He had a genius level IQ but very few practical skills, and as his brain was figuring out multiple quandaries at a time he often forgot to do routine things to keep himself alive. Max would inevitably have to remind Jake to eat or make sure he wore a coat if it was cold outside, so much so that it had become a running joke between them. He didn’t mind running the house though as he liked being busy and wasn’t too worried about essentially looking after Jake. Most of the time Jake would be either in one of the campus labs or in his room figuring out the secrets to the universe or whatever it was he was working on. Max, on the other hand, wasn’t too sure what he wanted to do with his life. He was studying art and creative writing as he was an avid comic reader and thought maybe that was something he could get into. Max had also taken to the gym since moving away from home. With Jake out of the way most of the time he found himself needing some physical stimulation rather than just staying in the house on his own. He still worked out alone but he found it gave him a way to clear his head. He would often make up personalities or stories in his head about the other guys in the gym. Any time he was doing cardio or resting between sets he would look around to see who could become a character in one of his stories but he never got up the courage to actually find out what they were really like. With Jake though it was different. They were both into comics and everything that went with them so when Max thought Jake needed to take some time off he would often put a superhero movie on, or they would binge watch one of the cartoon series. Jake was also somewhat introverted, although that was more down to him not being sociable because of everything going on in his head. Being around Max all the time at home gave him the chance to relax and build up an actual friendship. He was given a sizeable fund to draw on from his father, so he would often treat Max to some graphic novels or take him to a comic convention where they would inevitably come back with prop replicas, action figures and posters to decorate the house. With the place being pretty spacious there was plenty of room for whatever they bought. They had a pretty big living room to share that was overlooked by the landing above. Both had their own bedrooms off the landing with a shared bathroom in between them while downstairs, beneath the bedrooms, were the kitchen and a small dining area. The two guys never really talked about what Jake was working on. One month it would be some ridiculous equation that Max could never possibly understand, the next it would be some chemistry experiment that would catch his attention. The latest thing seemed to be some bio-medical experiments he had started after looking back over some old comics. Max knew better than to ask him what he was doing and just decided to make sure he was fed and got to class on time. That is, until one night when he heard a terrified scream come from Jake’s room. “Jake!! What’s going on? You ok in there?” He called out after dashing upstairs and finding Jake’s door locked. After a few seconds the lock clicked and Jake peered around the door. “Oh, hi. Sorry, yeah I’m fine.” He replied but Max could tell he was lying as he was breathing rapidly and looked slightly pale. “Really? So what was that scream all about?” “Nothing, I just…cut myself, that’s all.” “It must’ve been a pretty bad cut to scream like that.” “It was the shock of it…that’s all.” Max wasn’t buying any of it and when he noticed Jake shudder slightly he started to get angry. “What’re you doing in there? It better not be anything dangerous.” “It’s nothing, I’m fine.” “Either open the door and let me see or I’ll open it myself.” It wasn’t an empty threat. Max was just under a foot taller than Jake and also outweighed him by about 30lbs as his workouts were starting to pay off. Jake just sighed and opened the door to let him see the room. “See? Everything’s normal.” Max looked around and everything looked messy but normal, at least for Jake’s room. When he turned back to his smaller roommate he noticed something. “What are you hiding behind your back?” He asked, noticing he could only see Jake’s left hand. “N…nothing.” Jake answered, but couldn’t look him in the eye. “Let me see your hand then.” Jake still seemed reluctant. “If you’ve cut it badly it might need stitches, let me take a look.” “It’s fine…honest.” “Jake!!” Max said firmly causing his roommate to sigh and then bring out his hand. “What the hell is that?” Max asked, looking at the strange, black glove that he was wearing. “It’s what I’ve been working on. It’s bio-medical, protoplasmic…” He could see the confusion on Max’s face and decided to simplify it. “It’s a goop for doctors to use in war zones to help stabilise patients until they can get to a hospital.” “Wow, that’s kinda cool. So does it work? I mean, has it healed your cut?” “I think so, I mean, it doesn’t feel painful and it’s stopped the bleeding I think.” He looked down at his hand as another shudder went through his body. It was then that Max noticed the goo wasn’t just confined to Jake’s hand but that it disappeared under his sleeve. “Is it spreading?” He asked. “Take your shirt off.” Jake unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his scrawny body beneath and as he did Max could see the goo had reached Jake’s shoulder and was steadily creeping across and down his torso. “Holy shit dude! What’s it doing?” “I don’t know, I think it might be searching out any other problems my body has.” Jake was remarkably calm considering his body was being smothered in an experimental sludge. “Is it meant to do that?” “I don’t know, I’ve never tested it on anyone before.” “Can you take it off?” It was almost down to Jake’s naval and just starting to creep over his left shoulder as he tried to pull at it with his left hand. Instead of coming away it started to cover over his left hand, slowly creeping up his arm to meet up with the rest of it that was slithering down his upper arm. “Argh!! It’s going everywhere!!” He exclaimed as it started to descend below his belt. Panic suddenly set in and he started wheezing. As he did the goo sped up to cover over his face, causing him to panic more. He started clawing at his face as Max did the same, scared that his friend was going to suffocate under the stuff. Suddenly Jake stopped panicking and pulled Max’s hands away from his face. He seemed to be breathing more regularly even though there were no air holes in his face covering. “Jake? Are you ok?” He heard a muffled reply and saw Jake nod his head as the goo seemed to finish moving. After what felt like a lifetime to Max the goo started to recede down Jake’s face until he was covered from his neck all the way down his body. “Well that was weird.” Jake said, calmly. “What was?” “I could breathe perfectly even when I was covered up, and it even seems to have cleaned out my respiratory system.” He took a few steady breaths as if to test his lungs out. “Really?” “Yeah, I’ve never been able to breathe so well in my life. It seems to be covering my whole body now and it’s healing every niggly twinge in as it goes.” Before Max could say anything Jake stripped the rest of his clothes off and stood there completely covered in the goop, which had now solidified slightly to resemble a wetsuit. “So once it’s healed you, how do you get it off?” “Umm…I’m not sure. Let me try…” Jake looked down at his right hand as the suit started to recede up to his wrist and then roll back across his hand again. It did the same a few times before he tried the same thing on his left hand. “Interesting, it seems to respond to my mental commands so if I want it to uncover me…” The suit suddenly disappeared from his upper body but stayed on his lower half. “So can you take it off completely?” Max asked. “I haven’t taken it off at all. I can still sense it covering my body but it seems to be chameleonic” “It’s what?” “It can hide in plain sight, you know, like a chameleon.” “So you can hide it under your clothes?” Max arched an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Looks that way; or maybe…” Jake concentrated for a second and then was suddenly wearing the same clothes he had taken off before, even though they were in a pile at his feet. “Fascinating.” He said as his clothes changed again to different outfits and even mimicked Max’s clothes. “Wow, looks like you’ll never need to go clothes shopping again. What about your face though? Is it still covering over that?” He reached out to touch Jake’s face and felt the skin beneath his hands before moving down to touch the suit covering his shoulder. “Curious, the suit is staying below my head but when you touched both my skin and the suit, the sensation was the same.” “Meaning?” “Meaning that the suit is almost acting like a second skin rather than an item of clothing.” “Ok, let’s try something. Wait there.” Max dashed down the stairs and grabbed a few items from his little toolbox before heading back up to Jake’s room. When he got there Jake had made the suit turn back into its wetsuit look and was testing out removing it from his hand. “It appears the suit can stop covering areas of the body but I haven’t been able to remove it completely, it’s like it’s bonded onto me.” “So once it’s on it won’t come off?” “It looks that way. What were you planning with those?” He asked, pointing to the tools in Max’s hand. “Oh, I was wondering how much sensation you could actually feel through it, like, can you feel different temperatures?” “Like I said, it feels just like skin, I mean, if I blow on it like this,” He puckered up his lips and blew onto his gloved looking fingers. “It feels the same as it would if you do the same on yours.” “Let’s try it with a little more heat.” Max said as he placed a claw hammer and craft knife on Jake’s desk and held out a lighter to show his idea. When he lit the flame Jake tentatively moved his hand closer to feel the warmth as normal but then got a little braver and lowered his palm down fully onto the flame and held it there for a few seconds. “Wow, that’s crazy!” He said with a smile as Max clicked the lighter off. “What? Didn’t it hurt?” “Not at all, I mean, I could feel the heat and I knew it should be painful but it was just like wearing a protective glove.” “Do you want to try cutting it?” Without answering Jake grabbed the craft knife and gently ran it across the end of his finger. When that didn’t do anything he tried again with a little more force but the result was the same. “How about we try a little impact test. Put your hand on the desk.” Jake did as he was told and Max raised up the hammer to test his theory. He brought it down faster than Jake expected and as soon as it made contact with Jake’s hand a tendril shot out from his arm and slammed Max into the wall. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Jake cried out as he ran over to check on his roommate. “What the hell was that?” Max asked as Jake helped him up. “I don’t know. I thought you were going to hit me really hard and the suit just reacted.” “Wait, so this thing’s alive?” Max asked, looking over Jake apprehensively. “No…well not really.” “What do you mean ‘not really?’ Either it is or it isn’t.” “It’s not sentient or anything like that; it must have a deeper connection than I thought.” “Fucking hell this is some next level Venom shit.” Max sighed. “What?” “Y’know, Venom. From Spider-Man. That thing’s like the symbiote.” “This isn’t an alien though; I think it’s just tapping into my subconscious.” “So it’s not going to take you out web slinging in your sleep then?” Max asked with a smile. “I hope not, I’m not a fan of heights.” Jake grinned back. “I could probably make this into the costume though.” As Max watched a white spider logo appeared on Jake’s chest and seemed to wrap around his back where Max assumed another one had appeared. “Not bad, it’s a pity you’re not a little more muscular, I’m sure Spider-Man fills it out more than you do.” Max said, noting how the suit was tight on Jake’s body but just showed how small and skinny his roommate actually was. Jake looked lost in thought for a second and then suddenly the suit started to seemingly inflate with muscle until he was standing with a much more toned, swimmer’s build. Max couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched in wonder at the transformation before him. “Holy shit dude!! Did you just grow bigger?” “No…well…sort of, the suit just added more mass but I think my body is still the same underneath.” Jake willed the suit to peel back over his right forearm and sure enough it was still as thin as before. When the suit rolled back down his arm he willed it to mimic his skin colour instead so that he stood there looking like a buffer version of himself. Max was starting to get turned on just looking at Jake’s new body. He had never told his roommate he was bi and he certainly wasn’t going to let on that he was attracted to Jake. He changed the suit back to the Spider-Man costume but kept running his hands over the new muscle. The sensation of it being like a second skin was the same as before only now he could flex and tense the muscles as if they were his own. When he curled his arm up there was a solid bump and he could even bounce his pecs or crunch his abs. “These muscles actually feel like they’re attached to my bones, look; when I flex them any which way they respond as if they were really built that way. It’s fascinating.” “Yeah they do look pretty real, do you think they made you stronger?” “Only one way to find out.” Jake looked around for something heavy but the only thing that looked particularly solid was the hammer that Max had dropped when the suit slammed him into the wall. A smile crept over Jake’s face as he reached out his hand and a tendril shot out to grab the hammer off the ground and pulled it back into his hand. Max stood there with his mouth open at the display and it stayed open as Jake used two fingers to straighten out the claws on the hammer, he then held the handle in one hand and twisted the head until the solid, metal neck was warped beyond use. “Holy fuck!! You got super strength from that thing.” Max was excited and amazed at what Jake had just done but in the pit of his stomach there was an uneasy feeling bubbling up. “Don’t you mean spider strength?” He asked as his face was suddenly covered in a familiar black mask with big white eyes. “This is amazing, I feel like the real deal.” “Yeah, it is kinda cool.” Max replied, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. “So are you gonna take it off?” “What? I told you I couldn’t and besides, why would I want to?” Jake asked incredulously. “Well…y’know…aren’t you worried about losing control? Like when I tried to use the hammer?” “Why? Are you scared? Worried it’ll take me over and turn me into a monster like Venom?” “Well…no, but this is kinda freaking me out.” “Why? Because we could crush you like a bug?” “We?” Jake didn’t reply, instead his body began to expand in all directions. In a few seconds he had gone from his athletic, swimmer’s build to a taller, more heavily muscled figured that dwarfed Max in every way. When the growth had finished the lower part of his face started to split causing the formerly bigger roommate to stagger back as a huge smile, made up needle-like fangs spread over Jakes pitch black face. That was enough for Max’s flight instinct to kick in and he took off down the stairs as fast as he could to get to the front door. Just as he was about to reach it a huge, black tendril, as big as a tree trunk, shot past his head and splattered against the door, covering it completely and sealing off his escape. He turned back to see the giant tendril was attached to Jake’s shoulder as he stood maliciously smiling at his prey. “Where do you think you’re going?” Jake asked in a voice significantly lower and more menacing than his usual one. Using just the power of his arm he lifted up over the bannister to lower himself in front of his terrified roommate. “You’ve always had a thing for Venom, well now here we are in the flesh.” When Jake spoke Max could see the impossibly large jaws open and close as the freakishly large tongue danced around inside the gaping maw. “I…I thought you had control of that thing.” “This thing is the best thing that’s ever happened to us.” “Us?” “Us.” Jake sprouted two more tendrils from his shoulders which grabbed Max and pinned him to the wall next to the door so that he was now eye level with the taller Jake. “Isn’t this your ultimate fantasy? I’ve seen that tent in your pants whenever he comes on screen, well now here’s the real deal.” Jake pulled away from the door causing his arm to change back its normal, muscular looking limb and faced Max head on. Max thrashed about to break free but Jake pinned his legs to the wall with two more tendrils. “Jake this isn’t you, it’s the suit. You need to get it off before it takes you over completely.” Jake pulled back the tendrils but Max was still pinned to the wall by pieces of the suit. “And here I thought you’d like to see me like this. I mean, do these muscles not do anything for you?” He stood back a little and brought up both his arms, blowing up his biceps like watermelons followed by a lat spread that virtually blotted out the view of anything in front of Max besides the gigantic, black creature that used to be his roommate. “I know this is turning you on, I can practically taste the desire coming off you.” He hit a most muscular pose and his prehensile tongue snaked out to move closer to Max who was squirming to get away. “Keep that thing away from me you freak!!” Jake stopped posing and extended his hands out to easily shred all of Max’s clothes. “Hmmm…seems like this freak is turning you on.” Max couldn’t deny it as, no matter how terrified he was, his cock was still at full mast. Jake’s tongue slithered out again and started working its way up Max’s leg right up to his balls. He let out an involuntary moan as the huge tongue gently grazed along the underside of his shaft, right from the base to the head where it lapped up some of the pre that was oozing from the tip. “You taste even better than we could’ve imagined.” Jake rumbled as his giant tongue wrapped itself around the entire shaft and started to stroke back and forth, flicking the very tip into the piss slit every so often. He threw in a few more poses, mostly for his own amusement since Max’s head kept lolling back as Jake’s tongue continued to jerk him off. After a short time Jake could feel Max was ready to blow and wrapped his tongue completely around the end of his cock to milk every last drop of cum from him. Max bucked wildly, even though he was still pinned to the wall and when he was finally spent Jake’s enormous tongue retracted back and then cheekily licked his lips. “Who knew our taste buds would also be enhanced, that was delicious.” He devilishly cackled. “Please…just stop it…this isn’t you Jake, it’s the suit.” Max panted as a few tears rolled down his cheek. “How can you be so sure? Maybe now we can finally act out our sexual urges. It hardly seems fair that you should get to have all the fun, especially as we have a newly enhanced tool that we haven’t even tried out yet. Don’t you want a taste of Venom?” Max looked down between Jake’s legs to see a bulge forming which gradually expanded into an above average cock with a pair of orange sized balls hanging beneath it. Max’s eyes went wide as Jake’s new appendage started to expand and harden. “What’re you going to do with that?” Max asked, shivering with fear at the possibilities. Four new tendrils emerged from Jake’s body to connect with the pieces holding Max to the wall and then pulled him away to hold him in front of his throbbing member. “Interesting question; and one with so many possible answers. We could let you taste it in return for you allowing us to taste yours. Would you like that? To feel your jaw dislocate as we force ourselves further down your throat than any cock in the world could ever possibly go. To fill your stomach with so much cum that your gorgeous, hard six pack would look more like a beer barrel.” As he said that he ran his hands from Max’s jawline down his neck and chest before finally stroking his abs tenderly. “Or how about we let your hands loose and you can caress this monster’s monster until it douses you like a fire hose.” Jake stepped back to give himself more room for his cock to rapidly expand until it was like a giant tree trunk pointing directly at Max’s navel. Max looked down at the huge, black head twitching in anticipation and he could only imagine what the mouth sized opening pointing directly at him would unleash. It surged forward again, pinning him to the wall as the tendrils released his limbs. He was still a couple of feet off the floor being held up purely by the power of Jake’s cock. Every time he squirmed to get loose it would throb and push him up and down the wall. Jake’s head lolled back as his massive tongue hung down to his left nipple. “That’s it, keep fighting it; you have no idea how good that feels.” Max did everything he could think of to get free; he clawed, punched and kicked at the massive head which only seemed to turn Jake on more. “Get the fuck off me you psycho!!” Max yelled as his fear turning to anger. “What did you call me?!?!” Max couldn’t answer as Jake’s massive hand wrapped fully around his neck, holding him off the ground as Jake’s cock shrunk back to a more manageable size. “You think I’m psychotic because I’ve got the power to make your fantasy come true? Or are you just jealous that you aren’t the one in control of the suit? That’s right, I’m in control. There is no we, there is no Venom, it’s just me and this suit doing whatever the fuck I want with you so pucker up buttercup, because I’m going to fuck you until these massive balls are drained dry.” Max was on the verge of passing out until Jake released the grip on his throat. Instead of falling to the ground though Max found himself suspended in the air by more tendrils that had projected from the suit. He looked down to see the slick, black cock suddenly split in two and start to move independently like snakes. One rose up to eye level to almost look at him like a cobra ready to strike while he felt his butt cheeks being gently pulled apart by two tendrils that protruded from Jake’s hips. He felt one slide between his butt cheeks and start to work its way into his hole as the other parted his lips to make its way down his throat. Slowly the two cocks began to thrust in and out of both holes, with the one up his butt vibrating with increasing intensity. Jake threw his head back in ecstasy as his hands and some extra tendrils explored and worshipped every inch of his own body. Muscles flexed and danced as he felt every rock hard bulge and shredded sinew. At the same time his tongue snaked out to slather all over Max’s ripped body, as well as working its way down to his cock again. Max was barely staying conscious as the pleasure hit him from all sides. Before too long Jake let out a terrifying roar as his balls unloaded into Max who, at the same time, was milked dry by Jake’s prehensile tongue. That was all Max could take. He would have slumped to the ground if it wasn’t for Jake’s suit holding him up. As it was, he was completely unconscious by the time Jake came down from his own high to look at his roommate. A strange, electronic beeping sound woke Max up and it took him a few seconds to figure out that it was the alarm on his phone. He soon realised he was lying in his own bed and reached over to shut off the alarm. Slumping back into the mattress he stared up at the ceiling, trying to figure out if he had just experienced the weirdest dream ever or if it really happened. He didn’t feel uncomfortable or have any pain anywhere but when he checked the time on his phone again he noticed he had been out for nearly twelve hours. Before he could dwell on it anymore his door started to open and Jake peered in to see if he was awake. Max’s eyes immediately went wide as he started to scramble up the bed to put some distance between him and his roommate. “GET AWAY FROM ME YOU FREAK!!” He screamed, causing Jake to flinch in surprise but then his shoulders slumped a little as he leaned on the door frame. “Look Max…I’m sorry about what happened last night, you were right, it wasn’t me, it was the suit.” “You said it was all you!! You…you raped me!!” Max yelled. “It wasn’t…I didn’t mean…” “You fucked me without my consent!! What the fuck would you call it?!?” “I…you’re right, but you’ve gotta believe me, it was the suit that just made me lose control. It won’t happen again, trust me.” “Oh yeah? What about when you and your slimy friend get horny again?” “You don’t have to worry about that, the suit’s gone.” “Gone? Gone where? I thought you couldn’t get it off, and it didn’t seem to take any damage.” “It was tricky but with the right combination of a few chemicals…” They both stayed in silence for what seemed like an eternity. “Would you have let me though? If I’d asked?” “What?” “You know, if I’d asked; would you have done any of that stuff?” Max started to calm down a little as he thought over the question. “I dunno, I mean, if I hadn’t been so terrified it might have been fun.” “Really?” “Yeah, I mean, seeing you as Spider-Man and then Venom was cool…in a way, but it was a little hard to appreciate it. What was it like being in the suit?” Jake sat cross legged on the end of the bed and was glad when Max didn’t flinch away. “It was pretty awesome to be honest. It didn’t even feel like I was wearing anything, it was like it was all me, y’know? Like I could feel my muscles expanding and like, extra limbs and stuff. And it made me feel strong and powerful, like I could do anything.” “You pretty much did if you remember.” “Yeah but I’m pretty sure you would’ve done the same in my position.” “I dunno…I would hope not but I have no idea how it felt for you.” There was another awkward silence between them but this time it was Max who broke it. “So…do you actually have the hots for me or was it just a convenience thing?” Jake turned bright red at the question and took a while to respond. “I kinda always liked you. My dad wanted me to get a more academic roommate but when you came to look around the place I knew you would work out better. Even if nothing happened between us I just thought I’d still have some eye candy.” Jake turned an even brighter shade of red as Max started to snicker. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” “C’mon, look at me…I’m not exactly a catch am I? At least with that suit on I could have a body that would turn you on.” “Wow, for a genius you’re a real dumbass. I’ve always thought you were cute, even if you are smaller than me. It’s actually one of the things that I like most about you, that you’re just unashamedly…you.” Jake blushed again as he felt his heart soar. Max leaned in for a kiss but just as their lips were about to meet his stomach rumbled loudly enough to fill the whole room. “Oh shit, I completely forgot you hadn’t eaten. Get yourself cleaned up and I’ll go get us something to eat.” “Not a bad idea, I don’t think I’ve got the energy to go out anywhere.” Jake left the room and headed down the stairs as Max went to the bathroom. Just before he closed the door he called out to Jake as usual. “Don’t forget to take a coat.” When the bathroom door closed Jake just smiled as his sweater morphed into a thick coat before he went out into the cold morning air. The end.
  20. HUMPING IRON By Lorus “Happy birthday, son!” Ralph Braithwaite handed his son Brandon the keys to a brand new Ferrari 458 before hugging him like the spoiled brat he was. The Braithwaites had so much money, thanks to Ralph’s grandfather striking it rich in the oil business decades before. But that didn’t stop Ralph going on to establish one of the most profitable law firms in the country. “Oh Daddy, my very own Ferrari. How did you know I wanted that more than anything?” Brandon beamed with joy. Having grown up with affluenza, the eighteen year-old knew nothing of the value of things. But he liked owning things, especially if they were super expensive. “Oh your Dad knows these things, son. Besides, I got a good deal on it. It only set me back $287 thousand. I think your mom has something for you too. In fact, is that you coming down the massive staircase of our home in your clackety-clack Christian Louboutin heels I got for your anniversary, dearest?” Sure enough, Allegra Braithwaite flowed into the huge living room of their 120-roomed mansion, positively trembling with excitement. “Good morning to my two favourite men. And happy birthday to my baby boy.” An astute germaphobe, Allegra hated touching anyone, and simply blew her son a kiss from several feet away. She then handed him an envelope with diamond-encrusted silver tongs she used to pick up most things. “Thanks mom. You look great, by the way. Really thin,” said Brandon, accepting the envelope with gusto. He opened it and read the contents within. “Wow, my trust fund from Pop-pop has matured. I just inherited $100 million big ones. Wow. I’m so fucking rich.” The Braithwaites didn’t mind their only offspring swearing. He’d been doing it since he was able to talk, and most of the time he’d string up expletives to shoot at the cleaning staff and many governesses that couldn’t stick working for the family for more than a week or two at a time. “Well, enjoy your day, son. I have to get to the office for a major meeting with the partners. I’m thinking of buying them out of the firm, so I could be gone for a while.” That said, Ralph summarily left, grabbing a croissant flown in from Paris on his way out. “And I have a tennis lesson, darling. Fernando is fitting me in at ten-thirty, so I need my hair and nails done before I arrive on the court,” said Allegra. In fact, unbeknownst to her husband, Fernando would be “filling her in” straight after the lesson. This was Brandon’s life. His parents loved him, but spent very little time actually with him. He was about to tell them he was gay, but fuck it. He wanted to take his new toy out for a spin. He wanted to look his best and so rode the elevator up to his bedroom to select his favourite preppy shirt, bow tie, pastel shorts, and a Gucci V-neck sweater to drape around his broad shoulders. He came from a long line of wealthy, handsome men, and Brandon was no exception. He was six feet tall, with golden blonde hair combed to the side with a side part, and shaved neatly at the sides and to the nape of his neck. He had ocean blue eyes and olive skin with golden undertones. His teeth were sparkling white and perfect in every way. He was very handsome indeed. Wealthy beyond all reason, and a spoiled brat to boot. Playing tennis and sailing his yacht had helped to give him a pleasing physique. He had nice pecs and a firm, flat stomach with a few abs showing. He was a bit on the top heavy side, but he liked that a lot. He’d always dreamed of being a bodybuilder, but his rich extravagant lifestyle always got in the way of such a vocation. Unlike his on and off boyfriend Gaylord Bentley-Pugh, also a rich spoiled brat. Gaylord’s father was a rich movie producer, and so the muscle-stud had already been in several movies, usually minor roles because he couldn’t act for shit. But he had screen-god looks and had been bodybuilding for three years so far. He hadn’t yet competed in any shows, but he was considering doing one within a year or so. “I think I’ll call my gorgeous bodybuilding boyfriend Gaylord,” said Brandon, after he was fully dressed. “Hey babes. I got a sick Ferrari for my birthday… wanna go for a ride?” “Sure, honey. Did you tell them you’re gay yet?” “I was gonna, but you know they always have things to do in a heartbeat. Besides, I don’t really care if they know or not. I just inherited a fucking fortune. We should celebrate. Go for a ride in the Ferrari. Have lunch at the fanciest most expensive restaurant on the East Coast, then sun ourselves on the family yacht. Maybe have some of your bodybuilder friends aboard for a seafaring orgy!” “That sounds like the perfect birthday, Brandon. Just let me finish my chest exercises and you can swing by and pick me up in thirty, yeah?” “Sounds great, Gaylord. I love you.” *** Gaylord had to be cut out of his side of the Ferrari. His legs had been pinned under the crumpled dash when Brandon lost control of the car and careened the left side into a wall. The air bags tripped, of course, and Gaylord lost consciousness. It was Brandon’s fault. He’d had one too many Bucks Fizzes at lunch, made with a particularly strong brand of champagne. The cops on the scene breathalysed him, and found him to be over the limit. Strangely there wasn’t a scratch on him, although he insisted they take him to the emergency room as he felt himself swallow something during the accident. There was a metallic taste in his mouth, but otherwise he looked fine apart from being somewhat inebriated. The cops read him his rights and slapped cuffs on him. “You can’t arrest me, officer. My dad is Ralph Braithwaite, top attorney. He’ll make all this go away, and see that you end up working the security night shift at a rundown mall!” And that was how Brandon Braithwaite spent two hours of his birthday in a jail cell. *** Sure enough, when Ralph heard what had happened, he went straight to the police station to bail out his son. Crying in his father’s limousine afterward, Brandon worried about Gaylord. “Dad, Gaylord isn’t just my best friend. He… he’s my… boyfriend. I wanted to tell you and mom earlier, but you never have time for me. You never did.” “It’s okay, son. We already know you’re gay. We’ve always known. Well, actually Consuela Number Fifteen hinted to us that you might be when she was fluffing your pillows and found your stash of “Glory Hole Monthly” behind your headboard. Here, use my cell phone to call the hospital.” Brandon composed himself and phoned the hospital to inquire about Gaylord. Fortunately the injuries to his legs weren’t that serious, and the doctor on the phone was confident he’d make a full recovery upon referral to a plastic surgeon. “What about his bodybuilding? Will he be able to continue with that?” The doctor said that he’d need some time to recover, but that it wouldn’t be a problem for him to return to the gym eventually. Brandon breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll make all this go away, son. No way they’ll convict you for drunk driving. I get people off on those all the time. No sweat.” Ralph patted his son on the leg and then indicated to the driver to take them home. Later that night… Brandon tossed and turned in his sleep. He couldn’t settle. He’d brushed and flossed and gargled with mouthwash, but he still couldn’t get the metallic taste out of his mouth. It was driving him crazy. His father had already ordered him another Ferrari, the other one fit for a junkyard once the police were done with it. Brandon got out of bed and rang for the butler to get up and bring him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Very good sir,” said Cheedle the butler, not one bit annoyed that the spoiled brat had woken him up from a particularly spicy dream. Brandon ate the sandwich, but he still couldn’t get the taste of metal out of his mouth. He still felt hungry, ravenous actually. “Cheedle, ring for the family doctor. Get him over here pronto. If he says it’ll have to wait until tomorrow, tell him I’ll fucking destroy his reputation as a physician, like I did with the last one!” “Very good sir. At once sir,” said Cheedle, and to himself: fucking rich cunt. The doctor arrived at the Braithwaite estate within thirty minutes. He performed a thorough examination of Brandon but couldn’t find anything wrong. “I feel like I swallowed something, maybe a piece of metal when the car crashed. I want it out of me, doctor.” “Well Brandon, I can’t do anything here without an x-ray. I’ll arrange for you to get one in the morning. If there is something foreign inside you, we’ll deal with it accordingly.” “Fine. I want it first thing in the morning!” The doctor left and Brandon eventually collapsed into bed, utterly exhausted. *** At 6 a.m. Brandon woke up, feeling strangely refreshed. He checked his mouth for the taste, and was relieved it was no longer there. Maybe he hadn’t swallowed any metal at all. Then, as he made to slide his legs out of bed to the lavishly expensive carpet below, several forks and spoons slid out with him. They clattered around his feet. “What?” A closer inspection revealed the alarming truth. There were bite marks all over the cutlery. Brandon picked up a half-eaten spoon. There were teeth marks on the handle. He suddenly felt the urge to match his bite to the marks. They were a perfect fit. “I don’t remember doing that. But how could I be strong enough to chew through metal?” He then walked towards his huge en suite bathroom, passing by a mirror as he went. With only tight boxer briefs on, Brandon took in a shocking sight. His body had undergone a dramatic transformation. He had grown. A lot. “What in the world? I’m bigger than Gaylord. I’m fucking huge.” Sure enough Brandon had transformed overnight into a light-heavyweight bodybuilder. He had muscles bulging just about everywhere, and his boxer briefs were stretched near to bursting at the seams. “I’m beautiful. But how is this possible?” He began popping different flexing poses, each time his muscles bulged in every way it’s possible for muscles to bulge. He rang for Cheedle. The butler arrived promptly, even though he’d had fuck all sleep the night before thanks to Little Lord Fuckeroy. Cheedle tried not to look surprised. He’d come from a long line of butlers, going back several generations. He’d pretty much had most of his emotions bred out of him. But he couldn’t hide his shock at seeing Brandon’s new body. “Cheedle. Tell me I’m not dreaming and that this is real,” Brandon demanded. “Sir, you are not dreaming, and this is real, sir!” “That’s what I thought. Now what do you make of this?” Brandon tossed a half-eaten spoon at the butler, who caught it with almost superhuman precision. “It would seem sir has been… um … snacking on the silverware.” Brandon then became aware that his butt-hole felt a little tender. He slipped down his boxers and ordered Cheedle to take a look at his sensitive ass. “Hmm… it would seem something has created a friction burn around your, erm… rear entrance?” “That means I must’ve stuck something up my ass, right?” “I would assume so, sir… and repeatedly to boot.” And then: “If I could be so bold, sir, one of the chambermaids reported a candlestick missing from the drawing room. Such an item may be to blame for the injury to your derriere, sir.” “A candlestick? A FUCKING CANDLESTICK?” Brandon’s usually olive skin turned red around his face as he flew into a rage. Cheedle took two prudent steps backward. “Are you suggesting that I shoved a candlestick repeatedly up my ass? I have no memory of it. Or eating fucking forks and spoons for that matter!” “It may be the cause of your apparent physical transformation, sir. Although I wouldn’t be knowledgeable on such things. Perhaps there is an element of the supernatural involved. Should I contact the Winchesters?” “Fuck those losers. I won that 67 Impala from Dean in that pie eating chow-off fair and square. No… I’ll get to the bottom of this myself.” “Looks like the candlestick beat you to it, sir, if you don’t mind me saying.” “Start searching every inch of this room. If it’s not here, search the entire fucking mansion. I want that candlestick found. In the meantime, I have an x-ray to get to.” *** Brandon was at the hospital for 8 a.m. The x-ray revealed nothing. There were no foreign objects present in his body, although his blood was quite rich in iron, but the levels weren’t threatening. In fact, the doctor gave him a clean bill of health and complimented him on his physique. He was probably gay. Afterward, Brandon visited Gaylord in his private ward. Brandon didn’t want to alarm him, and so he made sure to wear a baggy sweater and jogging pants. Still, it was difficult to hide the changes to his physique. “Thanks for stopping by, sweetie. I’m feeling better. My legs are sore but they got me on the good stuff,” said Gaylord, his words a little slurred because of the morphine. Seeing that he was stoned, Brandon thought it wouldn’t hurt to show Gaylord his upper body. So he took off the sweater, finding it a little difficult to get the garment up and over his muscles. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience either. “Whoa… dude… what happened to you, and please can I have some!” Gaylord popped a raging boner under the bed quilt. He had a huge dick, so the steepling effect was considerable. It made his legs hurt more, however. Brandon deftly executed a full lat spread, now that he was wearing just his joggers. His body swelled to muscular brilliance, veins and striations erupting everywhere. He was easily forty to fifty pounds heavier than Gaylord, although before the transformation he was about thirty pounds lighter than his bodybuilder boyfriend. “Something happened when I crashed the Ferrari. I know I swallowed something out of the car when it hit the wall, but nothing showed up in the x-rays. There are also half-eaten forks and spoons in my bedroom. And a candlestick is missing. I think I stuck it up my ass. But it’s nowhere to be found.” Brandon turned his back to Gaylord and then pulled down his joggers. His bubble-but was now very muscular and deeply striated. Gaylord, although groggy, could clearly see the burn marks around the hole. His thighs were rippling with muscle. Gaylord got so turned on. His boner got even harder. “I wish it had happened to you, as well. You probably wouldn’t have been injured as much. I gotta try something.” Gaylord’s breakfast tray hadn’t been collected yet. He’d not eaten much, as the food from the hospital cafeteria was far below the grade they were both accustomed to eating. Brandon was suddenly ravenous. Had he eaten anything before leaving the mansion? He couldn’t remember. What was up with his memory? He didn’t have a concussion or a hangover. Maybe the champagne from the day before was stronger than he realised. He wolfed down the rest of Gaylord’s waffles and syrup, and even licked the plate clean. Then he picked up a fork and licked his lips. An insatiable feeling washed through him. He placed the fork in his mouth and started to chew. The metal instantly heated up from friction and fatigue as he worked it around in his mouth. His mouth and tongue should have been bleeding at this point, but that didn’t happen. Gaylord snapped out of his morphine reverie and couldn’t believe what Brandon was doing. “Mmmm. It was so tasty. So good!” Brandon chewed up the top of the fork like it was taffy. He kept going until it was utterly devoured. Then he did the same with the knife. “Brandon, what’s happening to you? That’s not normal. You should see one of the doctors here.” “I feel fine. Just still hungry.” Brandon spied Gaylord’s chart hanging from the end of his bed. He took off the paper part, pleased to see that the clipboard part was made of metal. Brandon raised it to his mouth and bit off a corner, chewing noisily. “Jeezus, Brandon, cut it out. You’ll hurt yourself. I’m calling for a nurse!” Gaylord pressed the buzzer to get a nurse. The one that he got was an Hispanic-looking male nurse. It said Luis on his nametag. He was handsome and hairy underneath his scrubs. His eyes widened in shock when he saw the shirtless millionaire. Brandon bounced his pecs vigorously. Another steeple formed, this time out of the nurse’s pants. The nurse was carrying a clean bed pan. Brandon eyed it hungrily. “It’s okay Nurse Luis. Gaylord doesn’t need a whizz, but nothing to stop you from sticking around for a muscle show!” Brandon’s confidence with his new self was becoming more pronounced. He liked the feeling of having big muscles. But why stop at just ‘big’? He threw up a double biceps pose, his guns peaking and hardening like the metal he was now fond of eating. Luis, not un-muscular by any means, loved the size and form of Brandon's big biceps. He longed to lick them and caress them. “I’ll let you worship me if you give me that bedpan, Luis!” Brandon wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Gaylord didn’t seem to mind another guy getting his hands on his boyfriend’s new muscles. He was good like that. Speechless and full of lust, Luis handed over the bedpan. But this time Brandon didn’t take a bite out of it. He began to crush it between his hands, causing all of the muscles of his upper body to bulge hugely, and veins and sinews to pop out all over his arms, chest, and neck. Both Luis and Gaylord couldn’t believe such a feat of strength. “Yeah, this feels so great, you guys. It would seem with great muscles comes great strength, too.” Brandon was awed by his new power. He continued to deform and compress the bedpan. To him it felt like very, very, thick aluminium foil and not the tempered stainless steel it had originally been fashioned from. The metal became hot to his grasp. It should have been too hot to handle at this point. But he continued to crush it into a smaller, denser shape. When it was down to the size of a snooker ball, Brandon started munching on it like an apple. “It’s so delicious, guys. I wish you could try some. But you can’t, because you are weak, whereas I am fucking strong. And I’m getting stronger, too!” “You… you’re also getting bigger,” cried Gaylord, suddenly the pain in his legs no longer registering due to the astonishing thing he bore witness to. “Yeah, I can feel it. I can feel my skin getting tighter as my muscles continue to grow bigger than before. Aw… so amazing,” said Brandon between metallic mouthfuls. “I need more food though. It helps the metal go down better.” Without thinking, a mesmerised Luis took a granola bar out of his pocket. Brandon snatched it from him and didn’t even unwrap it. He just popped the whole thing into his mouth. His muscles got bigger and bigger, oozing with razor-sharp definition. Muscles bounced and rolled around on him like over-sized ball bearings. The sinew and tendons beneath his skin were like coiled springs, eager to release their energy and fuel his growth further. “Grrr… I’m getting huge!” As Brandon began to outgrow every super-heavyweight bodybuilder in existence, his muscles tore free of his joggers, rendering him completely naked. His dick and balls were now obscenely huge, with the dick reaching way past the foot-long point. It didn’t quite curve upward; rather it had a slight warp to it, and kinked somewhat to the left as the warp occurred about midway along the shaft. Gaylord loved his boyfriend’s dick, believing that a dick with a warp in it gave a better fuck up his ass. Brandon swallowed the granola bar, but he was still hungry. This time he needed to feed another hole. He eyed up Gaylord’s drip stand. Yeah, that would do. The bag of happy juice hanging from it was all but empty at this point. Just as Luis started to masturbate to the incredible sight before him, he heard himself being paged over the intercom. Fuck it, he thought. I can always go back to bartending. He ignored the call, and locked the door behind him. Brandon removed the drip bag from the stand and lifted it up with ease. He broke off the top and bottom parts (he’d eat them later), and was left with about six feet of stem. It was hollow, but sturdy. Still, he re-shaped it with little effort, and in just a couple of minutes he’d fashioned a crude but workable dildo. There was a problem, however. He was now too muscular to insert the dildo himself. Gaylord couldn’t for obvious reasons, and Luis was too engaged in his wank to be of any use. Brandon had an idea. He bent a few inches from one end in such a way that he could hook it to the back of a radiator. He then pressed in the top of the radiator as if it was wet putty, in order to better secure his prize. When it was in the right position, he went to work on himself. “Oh fuck… that feels so good. A little sore, but I can break through the pain threshold,” he exclaimed with delight. He spent the next five minutes pleasuring himself. It caused his dick to erupt with a torrent of jizz, which splattered all over Luis, who’d just shot his own modest load. “Oh yeaaaahhhh!!” Brandon enjoyed this release better than any that came before. Gaylord also shot a load into his pyjamas. When their orgasms subsided, they all caught their breaths. It was then that Brandon noticed all that remained of his dildo was the hook part he’d made to fix it to the radiator. The rest was nowhere to be found. Brandon began to laugh. Luis started to laugh as well. Gaylord didn’t find anything remotely funny. This was an incredible experience, something beyond his wildest dreams, seeing his boyfriend transform before his eyes into a massively huge bodybuilder. Because he’d no phone of his own, Brandon reached for Gaylord’s on the nightstand beside his bed. “Please don’t eat that. I only got it two days ago,” Gaylord pleaded. Brandon said nothing, but dialled home. Cheedle answered, as he usually did. “Hey Cheedle, you can call off the search. I know what happened to the candlestick.” Brandon proudly bounced his pecs, displaying the smuggest grin possible. “Very good, sir!”
  21. With the permission of Lorus, the author, I am reposting this story he wrote for the old forum and later deleted. Fortunately, I saved a copy so it can once again receive the attention it deserves. Direct your accolades to Lorus. I am only a messenger. Adventures of an Incredibly Aesthetic Muscle-God By Lorus Part 1 It was a day like any other for Brett Hillard, who, as the world’s most beautiful male model, could name his price when it came to photoshoots. In fact, at just 25 years old he’d already visited over one hundred countries on Earth. He had his face on more billboards in every continent than the average human has dinners in a lifetime. No other man on Earth could come anywhere close to being as beautiful as he was. Alas, he’d grown quite bored with the whole thing. He had millions of pounds in his bank account. He had six hundred and fifty-seven pairs of sneakers, all of which had been donated by the various sneaker manufacturers. He’d put his name to a llama park in Swindon, simply because he’d had one shot of tequila too much one night and decided to do it for a lark. He’d also slept with thousands of men, all of whom said he was the greatest fuck they’d ever had. He was so beautiful that he could make grown men cry and then shoot their loads just by smiling at them. Life was good for Brett Hillard. Some would say ‘too good’. He wanted more. He needed a change. He needed to change. So he did some research, and found something after a little searching. On the internet he clicked on a pop-up that read: “Wanted: Human Test Subjects for Mind-Blowing Physical Enhancement Program!” “Huh? This can’t be for real… can it?” He dug deeper, reading more into it. Of course, these kinds of things don’t reveal much to start with. They get your curiosity juices flowing as they ‘rope you in’. They prey on your desires for betterment. This promised to pay thirty grand for an hour or so of his time. “I don’t need the money. But I want to be… different. Yet the same.” He admitted to himself that he wasn’t making sense. But he had to know more. So he emailed the brain(s) that ran the program, half-expecting to get spammed out of it. But that didn’t happen. Next day there was an email waiting for him that contained only one thing: a cellphone number. Without delay Brett dialed it. It was answered immediately. “So you want to be enhanced, yes?” The voice on the other side of the connection sounded calm and erudite. “I’m the world’s most beautiful male model. But I want to be better than that. Can you help me?” “Ah, so you must be Brett Hillard,” said the voice on the phone. “Yup… bet you’ve already wanked to my photos online. I’d be surprised if you haven’t.” Brett was cocky to a fault. He had that effect on people. He could almost hear the man’s erection springing up on the other end of the line. “Not my thing, alas, Brett. But my assistant has a penchant for muscular males. He’s spent many a time in the bathroom with a tablet open to your Instagram. Let’s not delve further, eh? I’d like you to come visit us. The program has already proven successful with non-human participants. I think you’ll be very surprised at my findings.” “Sure thing. What’s the address?” Brett’s big cock hardened and got larger at the thought of his body becoming better… even more astoundingly beautiful. “123 Swole Street. Come at 2pm. We’ll have everything set up, Brett.” And that was it. Brett showered and ate a hearty breakfast. Before leaving he chose a particularly eye-catching outfit to wear; he was a button-shirt, bowtie, suspenders, and jeans kind of guy. To be honest, the mega-hunky blonde was so beautiful, and super-sexy and manly in every way conceivable, that he looked amazing no matter what we wore. Blue eyed, square-jawed, he had gorgeous bulges all over his body. Even his Adam’s apple was big and manly. His body was like that of a fitness model, with chiseled muscles that re-defined muscularity. He wasn’t huge, but he wasn’t small either. His vascularity was off the charts. He had a ten pack, for god’s sake. He made Sergi Constance look like a couch potato. “And to think… I’ll be even more insanely beautiful after I take part in this program,” he vowed. He growled a little, got a huge erection again, and had to relieve himself before he left his plush penthouse. 123 Swole Street turned out to be a building for rent. It was nondescript, with a faint smell of ozone; as if there was electrical equipment buzzing and humming within. Brett fought off the usual paparazzi and screaming guys and girls getting wet for him (he was used to it, as this happened wherever he went). “You think I’m super-hot now? Wait for it, you plain, ugly fucks,” he jested. It was all part of his showing-off act. The public loved it when he was cocky and insulting. It turned them on even more. Grown men had to run into doorways to relieve themselves simply because Brett turned them on in ways you wouldn’t believe. He pressed the doorbell and instantly the door unlocked, buzzing him in. He entered the dimly-lit building and was suddenly overcome with a slight feeling of dread. He swallowed, albeit nervously. It wasn’t like him to be nervous. What if this was a trap, set up by some crazed fan that wanted to keep him prisoner forever? Although, if it turned out to be a gang of youths with boyband looks, he might be persuaded to develop Stockholm syndrome. He tentatively walked down a spartan corridor and gave a slight start when a fluorescent light above him suddenly buzzed and blinked on. More of that ozone smell assaulted his senses. His eyes watered a little. A door opened at the end of the corridor, and a gorgeous-looking bloke in a white coat emerged. He was somewhat Asian, maybe Eurasian, and reminded Brett a little of Dev Patel, only hunkier. He had a lovely smile. And suddenly Brett’s concerns were laid to rest. “I’m Raj. Welcome, Brett. We’re about to change your life. Come… such wonders await you beyond that door.” Raj was undeniably gorgeous, but nowhere near as gorgeous as Brett, but no one ever could be, certainly not after today. He remembered what the voice said to him on the phone. Could Raj be the assistant he spoke of, that ‘had a penchant for muscular males’? Brett bounced his not inconsiderable pectorals under his ‘painted-on’ shirt. Gaps appeared between the buttons, revealing smooth, tanned skin. Raj beamed with delight. “I hope that isn’t your favorite shirt, Brett. After the treatment, you’ll be finding it a tad tight.” Raj winked and then his gaze was drawn to Brett’s crotch where an enormous bulge had formed. The tight pants looked like they would split any second. Raj found himself thinking how huge Brett’s cock was at full hardness. Brett had done plenty of nudes during his illustrious career, so Raj had seen it — and wanked to it — innumerable times. But he’d never seen it erect. “Bring it on, Raj. And you never know, by the time all this is over, you’ll have a sore arse for a month, if you get my drift.” Brett bounced his pectorals some more and flexed his traps. Buttons strained. His bowtie groaned as he thickened out his neck whilst smiling his usual cocky smile. Raj’s cock ballooned behind his white coat. But he was at work, so professional decorum had to be maintained. He took Brett into the next room. There were cages with animals in them. The animals were beautiful-looking. Brett marveled at the sight of them. “That gorilla should have its own modelling contract. What a handsome fucker, for an ape,” said Brett, when the gorilla — thick and muscular with a gleaming coat — extended a hand through the bars to gently caress Brett’s hand. “Ah, he’s lovely, yes? Two weeks ago, he was a six-month old chimpanzee,” Raj exclaimed, barely able to contain his excitement. “Fuck no! Seriously? He used to be a chimp? Jesus!” Brett was very impressed. The next animal was no less impressive. He recognized it, too. “A Komodo dragon. I saw them on wildlife shows,” said Brett, deciding to keep his distance from the second cage. These beasts had a vicious way of interacting with other living things. “Oh you can’t be afraid of a cute little gecko, Brett,” Raj teased. Brett’s mind was blown. There were other animals in several more cages, each one starting out much smaller and less significant in the food chain than what science had ‘helped’ them become. Another door yonder, and this time a different scientist stepped through. “I’m Doctor Herman Weiss. Finally good to meet you in person, Brett.” Weiss’s voice matched the one from the phone call earlier. He was an average-looking bespectacled man of middling years. He was a little grey at the temples with a comb-over to hide a bald patch several years in the making. He tended to stoop, but his handshake was firm and sincere, which belied his lack of physical prowess. “So, Doc, what’s this experiment I’m going to be doing? I hope you’re not scamming me with false promises.” Brett formed a frown that advertised skepticism. Weiss smiled and nodded, as if he expected such a reaction. “I’ll cut to the chase. The lease on this building expires tomorrow. We tend not to stay in one place for too long. Ethics and all that.” He removed his spectacles for dramatic pause. Then: “What if you had the power to grow massively muscular on a whim?” Weiss paused to allow Brett to take it in. “Are you serious?” Brett frowned even further. This had to be a wind-up. “The gorilla is beautiful, no? For a chimp. The same would go for you,” Raj interjected. He took Brett’s hand and caressed it. Brett’s ephemeral skepticism was replaced with reassurance. “We ran several computer simulations. We predict that you would have the power to control your growth — transforming at will — unlike the animal subjects. When they changed the changes became permanent,” Weiss added. “Really? So I could grow as little or as much as I like? Then get smaller again?” Brett’s erection was now straining towards painful restriction. “We think so, yes,” said Raj. “Okay, I’m in. Pump me full of your science stuff. I want this. I want it more than anything!” The procedure was blissfully brief, and defiantly simple. Brett was made to take a shower before changing into a medical smock, although he would have opted to keep his own clothes on. Weiss insisted that the procedure would be most effective if outside contaminants were eliminated. Brett acquiesced. He was weighed, too, and some detailed measurements were taken of his body. Next a serum was administered through his muscled forearm. Doctor Weiss had no problem finding veins on Brett’s arm; he was ripped and vascular to a fault. The serum glowed with a faint greenish hue. “A side effect of the radioactive isotope used as a catalyst, Brett. It will not change your skin color,” Weiss assured. He winked somewhat mischievously “Huh? Radiation? You didn’t mention that before. Will it make me sick?” Brett’s alarm was short lived when Raj interjected. “It’s no more dangerous than an x-ray. Nothing to worry about, Brett.” Raj scribbled notes onto a clipboard as he spoke. His chief job was to note down everything that happened to the test subject. Brett didn’t much care for the unflattering medical smock, and he summarily ripped it from his body. Somewhat nonplussed, both scientist and assistant took a step back. “I want to look my best when I become incredible,” Brett explained. And so the 6’3” mega-hunk stood completely naked before the purveyors of his amazing future, his body rippling and glistening beneath a patina of sweat that adorned him with a god-like glaze. He sported a massive erection. Raj was overwhelmed by its length and girth. It had to be at least twelve inches long and eight or nine inches thick. Beneath the fleshy, horse-hung cock, his ball sack was heavy and bulging with gonads big as peaches. And they were about to become way bigger once the procedure ran its course. A minute passed during which nothing much happened. Raj had stopped taking notes and remained aghast and agog at things as they unfolded. There was a video camera recording everything as it happened. “I don’t feel any different,” said Brett, and he began to think that all this was just a scam. Then… It was slight at first, but did his chest suddenly thicken and look fuller than before? “Hmm… interesting. Only your chest has responded to the serum,” noted Doctor Weiss. He nodded to Raj, indicating he should make a note of it. “Well, I was just thinking about having a bigger chest, Doc,” said Brett. He bounced his now larger pecs, enjoying the experience immensely. “This could be significant,” said Raj. Weiss frowned. “I don’t pay you to have opinions, Raj. Keep taking notes,” Weiss intoned adamantly. And then to Brett: “Try thinking about growing another muscle, Brett, er… your biceps?” Weiss was as excited as a scientist could get on the verge of a scientific breakthrough, his own personal ‘Eureka’ moment. Raj, by contrast, licked his lips in anticipation. Brett lifted his right arm and bent it at the middle, forming a distinct and eye-catching mini boulder. A smug expression washed over his delicious face when veins popped out all over his arm and the bicep bulged larger than it ever had. It definitely got larger, almost as large as the soup plate-sized eyes in Raj’s handsome head. Brett didn’t stop here. He copied the pose of his right arm using his left, forming a double biceps pose. Veins popped larger, his muscles bulged significantly bigger and Raj moaned audibly as his lust for Brett Hillard intensified. To hell with professional decorum. Weiss didn’t pay him nearly enough for his work. “Try another pose, Brett. Perhaps a lat spread. Not that I’m knowledgeable of such things,” Doctor Weiss said, almost bashfully. Brett was only too happy to oblige. The naked archetype of Adonis fanned out his upper body, and his mind forged the image of him swelling huge. It took just seconds for his body to respond. He grew way larger than his learned onlookers could have anticipated. His lats formed an impressive delta spread. His pecs heaved upward and became thickly corded and striated. “Get me a fucking mirror… now!” As Brett’s desire to grow intensified, so his aggressive side became apparent. Muscle rage had to be anticipated. It was so very masculine, as the serum bolstered Brett’s levels of testosterone many times over. A mirror was fetched. Brett could now see himself reflected full-length. A smirk of pure conceit formed on his beautiful face. This was what he was destined for. “Grrrr… I’m a big, gorgeous muscle-god now. But this is just the beginning. So much power now courses through these veins. I can do anything I want. Rawwwr!” He flexed down into a huge most muscular, and his muscles exploded with greater size and definition. Raj gasped and dropped his clipboard, not that Doctor Weiss even noticed. The older scientist seemed transfixed with pure awe, although he was incapable of becoming aroused. Raj was aroused enough for them both. “Perhaps we could take some measurements now. And your weight has changed considerably. Could you step back on the scale, Brett please,” Doctor Weiss urged. Raj’s pants were soaked at the front, but his lab coat concealed the precum wetness. He wanted to come, but things were only beginning to hot up as far was Brett was concerned. “Incredible. Your weight has gone from 220 lbs to 350 lbs in a matter of minutes. Perhaps you could halt your gains for a while; give your body a chance to adjust, eh?” Weiss’ complexion had become a tad wan. This was far different from observing a chimpanzee grow to gorilla proportions. Brett had the ability to shape his destiny (as if he couldn’t do that before?), unlike dumb lab animals. “Hey Raj, you have the hots for me, so you get to wield the tape measure,” Brett said cockily. Stepping off the scale, he blasted muscle pose after muscle pose, his beautiful body becoming more and more striking. His skin tightened so that his muscles rippled and rolled, and his veins bulged so much more. Raj wanted him so much. His throat had become dry, and he croaked when he tried to speak. “Biceps...chkkkk…. twenty-six inches….up from nineteen.” Brett smirked in cockiness once more. “Just for starters,” he announced, bunching his upper arms into small cannonballs of size and hardness. He was already hugely muscled, but he knew he could get so much bigger. In fact, his growth seemed instinctive now. He only had to think about his muscles growing and they responded with gusto. His chest had gone from forty-eight inches to sixty-two. He wanted to pump it up even bigger, but it would have benefitted greatly from a workout. In fact: “Hurry the fuck up, the pair of you. This place is starting to get small around me. I need to put my muscles to work and get to the gym. I’m gonna blow people away.” Brett had grown weary of playing the science guinea pig. He wanted to explode onto the world and kick it around like a football. “Er… very well. But we’d like you to keep in contact, for check-ups soon. You are the first of your kind. This serum could have many beneficial medical applications, as in curing diseases that cause muscles to atrophy,” Weiss advised. “Yeah, yeah, Doc. You’ll get your awards and all that shit,” said Brett, continuing to pose and flex in front of the mirror in the lab. His cock had swelled up massively and Raj wanted to suck it so badly. In fact: “Why doesn’t Raj here come back to my penthouse and monitor me in daily life? He can report his findings back to you. Then we can get up close and personal. You’d like that, wouldn’t you Raj.” Seeming all too desperate, Raj pressed his face against the muscle-god’s prominent chest. The smell of his muscle-musk was overpowering. And rightly so. Brett had him under his spell. Weiss could do nothing but acquiesce. “Hmm… my clothes are all but useless to me now. So how will I get home if I’m naked? The streets will run white with spunk when grown men see me like this.” What to do, Brett? What to do indeed. Then he thought about growing smaller. And he did. It was miraculous to observe. But he didn’t return to his original size. He kept some of his gains, just enough to tease the fabric of his clothing to near-bursting point. His shirt had looked painted on to begin with. Now it hugged his muscles even more snugly, and he couldn’t button it across his chest, so he left the top few unbuttoned for even greater effect. Likewise, the threads of his jeans strained to contain his gorgeous thighs. The buttons of his fly groaned trying to keep themselves fastened. His crotch was wet with precum. Combined with his musk, he smelled incredible. An Incredibly Aesthetic Muscle-God was born. And it was time to have some awesome muscular adventures. Part Two: Raj Moves In The penthouse was a complete paradise to Raj. His own apartment could easily fit into Brett’s bathroom. This was a place where a rich twenty-something gay bachelor entertained to extreme. It had its own gym, games room, home cinema, sauna, jacuzzi, bar, and rooftop swimming pool. But there was only one bedroom, since even penthouses have finite space. “Don’t worry about the sleeping arrangements, pretty boy. You’ll be sleeping with me from now on. Not that we’ll be getting much sleep, wink wink,” said Brett, now that he and Raj were alone. Raj couldn’t believe his luck. The most beautiful man in the world was basically making him his roommate. Maybe much more, too. “I can’t believe this is happening,” said Raj, trembling with delight. “Well it is happening, so you better get used to it. Now to get you out of that fucking lab coat. I want to see you in the flesh, cutie.” Brett muscled up considerably, so that his clothes literally flew apart into pieces of confetti. He shot up in height, too, gaining 300 lbs of muscle in seconds. He was now even bigger than back at the lab. Raj cried tears of delight and forgot to breathe for a second. “Look at how huge I am. You’re a fucking rodent compared to me. Although, you’re a pretty sexy one.” Brett ripped Raj’s clothes off. Raj was muscular and toned, and not too ripped. He had, maybe, twenty decent pounds of muscle on him. He was 5’11” and a little broad-shouldered. Indian by blood, he was very attractive. He had a nicely-sized cock, too. A good eight-incher. It would suffice. “Get down on your knees and suck my huge muscle-cock, Raj. Try not to choke on it, although I suspect you will, heh heh,” Brett playfully commanded. He liked Raj a lot. Although he came across as a tad aggressive, he really didn’t want Raj to get hurt. “I will do anything you order me to, Brett. I am your slave in all things from now on,” Raj almost cried out his words. His speech was quickly quashed by a mouthful of the biggest, most beautiful cock he’d ever tasted. He could just about get his lips around the thick mushroom head. “Awww… feels good, Raj. You’re old hat at this,” Brett growled. Standing before him, he blasted out a full lat spread and willed even more muscle onto his incredible body. He bulged insanely — every part of him bursting with size and power — much to Raj’s delight. “Look at how huge I am. But don’t you dare stop taking more inches of my muscle-cock. Take it in, little man-bitch… but don’t choke. You gotta keep breathing in order to serve your Muscle Master. I’m your god now!” Brett’s pecs heaved with striated prowess, bouncing as the muscles pushed and rolled against each other. He played with his rock-hard nipples whilst Raj serviced his cock, and his arousal augmented further and deeper. Just for fun Brett willed his pecs a little bigger, so that they now formed an obstructive shelf before him. They blocked his view of Raj completely, and then Brett grew his nipples to ten times their size. Thicker than three cigar butts taped together, likewise the areolas swelled to the size of size plates. They began to ooze a delicious milky liquid that cascaded over his pec shelf and gushed down on top of Raj who was already getting drunk on Brett’s precum. Brett’s sweet nectars mixed together, and Raj drank it all in, not just with his mouth, but with his entire body. His lust at its greatest, Brett grew larger. His cock shot out and thickened considerably, so that Raj’s mouth could no longer contain it. Raj coughed and pulled back, his body glistening with his own sweat and Brett’s muscle/sex nectar. Brett picked Raj up with one hand and carried him to the massive bed in the bedroom. He playfully tossed him like a ragdoll. His strength was so great that Raj felt completely weightless. Raj lay there, panting and ecstatic, and everything darkened as Brett’s massive shadow fell across him. Cords of precum and muscle-tit milk quickly soddened the bed, but neither of them cared. Caught up in the moment, they were both slaves to Brett’s ever-increasing power. “Heh, I’ll go easy on you, my little man-bitch. Don’t want you in a body cast, heh heh!” There was no way to gauge Brett’s current weight, although his weight could never be ‘current’ since it was near-constantly changing. But Raj felt like he was shrinking as the massive muscle-god before and above him continued to explode with huge amounts of muscle. Brett’s skin tightened over his burgeoning muscles, causing the fibers to become visible and interlaced with networks of bulging black veins. Raj gasped and thought he could see the blood coursing through Brett’s subcutaneous piping. Brett threw his head back and laughed/growled in ecstasy. He was clearly drunk with power and wanted much more. His shoulders, neck, and traps exploded with mass and his pecs and delts continued to balloon. He lowered himself yet nearer to his ‘shrinking’ little man, so that Raj could take nectar directly from the source. Brett’s teats felt like dicks in his mouth and Raj found himself alternating between the two. Growling with desire and lust to grow even more huge, Brett squeezed his gigantic pecs together, creating a deep, dark, and sweaty cleavage which Raj was privy to explore with his tongue as it darted from one muscle-teat to the next. As Brett continued to gain yet more size, the king size bed began to groan in defiance of the massive weight it struggled to support. Brett didn’t care. Suddenly he flipped over, nudging Raj off the bed completely so that Brett could lay on his back. Easily close to 8’ tall, his girth was immense, especially his upper body. But his legs were no less impressive, so much thickness spread across thigh muscles that rippled and rolled as they battled for space. Between thighs and abdomen, Brett’s ball sack expanded to mind-blowing proportions, accompanied by a muscle-cock that simply refused to stop growing. A helter-skelter array of thick, dark veins embossed the rod and fed it constantly with blood altered forever by Weiss’s serum. Raj found himself ensconced on a sea of mega-muscle, the centerpiece of which was a phallus as big as his arm. There was no way his modest hole could accommodate a missile like this. And yet… “Fuck me… please Brett, my muscle-god. Fuck this little man-bitch into next week,” Raj implored. Choked with lust and muscle, his eyes watered with emotion. He was now obsessed with Brett, and this would never change. He found himself unable to stop from climbing onto Brett’s cock and positioning his hole over the huge head. It was already way bigger than just moments before when he was able to take it in his mouth. This would be like getting fucked by a baseball bat. But he couldn’t stop himself. “Get my huge cock inside you, little man-bitch,” Brett barked. The rod oozed enough precum to sufficiently lube itself. But Raj still struggled to get the fist-sized head into his anus. “Heh heh, am I too big for you? Does it hurt my little man-bitch?” Raj was barely visible beyond the huge wall of pec meat that obscured much of Brett’s view. He loved his new body and its awesome power. “Cuh-can’t take your duh-dick… please, make it smaller… puh-please!” Tears streamed out of Raj’s eyes. He really wanted to push down on his master’s enormous cock. He wanted so much of it inside him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life getting hammered up his hole by such a mighty beam. His lust was overpowering. He knew he was close to coming. Brett sensed it. His super-dick had become super-sensitive to maximize his pleasure. Just like his nipples he could control this sensitivity as much as, or as little as, he liked. And through his dick alone he could feel Raj beginning to convulse prior to orgasm. “Okay, I’ll make it smaller for you… but the rest of me must compensate for the shrinkage. Watch this…. Rawwwwwr!” Even as Brett’s dick shrunk by thirty percent or so, his body ballooned with further crazy amounts of muscle. The bed creaked more noticeably, now, as his body gained hundreds of pounds of new muscle. He flexed a massive double biceps and the huge mountains burst forth with more veins and more size. His head now seemed dwarfed by his biceps. His forearms also increased hugely. They made Frank McGrath’s forearms look like fucking twigs by comparison. Raj found himself slipping further down the muscle-cock. Inch after inch went into his hole, lubed sufficiently for maximum benefit. The pain was still considerable, but Raj found he could endure it. He’d taken a ten-incher in the past, but this time he was riding on more than that, probably twice as much. He’d be sore for a week after this, if not longer. Brett played with his massive, and super-sensitive, nipples, tweaking them between his fingers and thumbs whilst Raj adopted a bouncing rhythm up and down on his member. Raj was crying and screaming with every upward thrust from Brett. If Brett were to thrust hard enough he’d have Raj hitting the ceiling and probably cracking his skull. Brett had no idea how strong he was at this time. But he knew that he could get a lot stronger. And he intended to. But for now, he had to practice restraint, for Raj’s sake. Damn, why were men so fragile? He made a mental note to find a hardcore gym and fuck the biggest bodybuilders that trained there. He’d make them all his man-bitches. They would be small compared to him. Heh, that’d fuck up their egos for sure. After a few more minutes of the one position, Brett grew restless. He needed variety, and there was an itch in the small of his back. He leapt to his feet, causing the entire floor to shake. Folks living below probably thought it was an earthquake warning tremor. Still not close to coming (although closer than before) Raj gasped at Brett’s current height. The top of his head was just inches from the ceiling. The ceiling had to be at least nine feet from the floor. “Time for some doggy style, my little man-bitch,” Brett growled. Raj didn’t complain. As a devoted bottom, this was easily his favorite style. He submitted his hole once again and enjoyed the experience even more. Brett had to kneel in order to bring his mammoth member down to Raj’s level, but this was not a problem. And thus, further pounding began. Brett had to limit the strength of his thrusts for fear of sending the bed and Raj careening across the bedroom. But an enjoyable experience was had by all. To finish off, Brett effortlessly flipped Raj around, and the smaller man cooperated by drawing his knees up towards his head and pushing his anus outward, giving Brett two “handlebars” to hold onto in the form of his ankles. Brett did him up the hole even further, and increased his dick girth just enough to give him maximum pleasure without tearing Raj a second asshole. Raj came first, gobbets of spunk splashing onto his abs and chest. He cried out with a level of bliss no man has ever experienced. This further goaded Brett on. He wasn’t ready to cum just yet, although he was close. But he decided not to come inside Raj, as he’d no idea just how much spunk a body this large — with coconut-sized gonads — could produce. Besides, there’d be other times, and Raj seemed exhausted. “Heh heh, I’m a god amongst insects now. I guess I can go on tirelessly. Not like you, my little man-bitch.” Brett grunted out a few more thrusts – knowing he could have gone on and on — but there was plenty of time to ‘get to know Raj better’. Besides, he was ravenous. Growing and fucking had given him quite the appetite. “Time to come. But the mess will be considerable. Hmm… better think fast!” The muscle-god bounded across the bedroom and out onto the adjoining balcony. The city could take his spunk. He was forty stories up, and he knew he could blast out his load like a cannon. “Here you go, fuckers!!!” And he shot his load, a massive blast of muscle-crème. It shot out over the city skyline, arching outwards and onwards. He delivered gout after gout of his rich seed, which rained down on an unsuspecting population. “RAWWWWWWWWWWRRRR AH FUCK YEAH!!!! I’M A FUCKING GOD!!!!!” Liter after liter of hot steaming jizz pumped out of his huge cock. And he didn’t stop shooting for at least three or four minutes. Finally, he was spent, his balls reduced to a quarter their size, but his newfound instincts told him that he could simply will them to refill with yet more spunk, even more than he’d just shot. He finished by forming a massive full lat spread. His upper body fanned out and ballooned with masses of muscle-flesh. His skin tightened further, creating scar tissue: the bodybuilding badges of honor. He could keep the scars if he chose to, or order his body to heal. He was invincible. His full lat spread made him look even bigger. Every muscle was pumped huge. His pecs heaved upwards, so that he had to hold his head back to give himself room to breathe. He dominated everything with his size and power. And he could get even bigger if he commanded it. He crabbed down into a most muscular pose, and his muscles became even more striated, with mind-blowing separation between. In order to compensate, his body grew more veins in order to pump more serum-altered blood to his muscles. He growled maniacally, super-drunk with the lust to grow and get even stronger. His dick got bigger, thicker, and longer, and his balls almost exploded as more spunk was made in seconds. He flexed his upper pecs and willed his huge man-teats to issue their nectar upwards. Fountains of the fluid shot up and arced towards his mouth. In this fashion he fed on his own elixir. And it made him grow bigger. His cock grew larger still — easily thirty inches — and it slammed against his ten-pack ab wall. The sound was like a wet mattress slamming against the trunk of an oak tree. Brett came again. And again. This time he urged his issue upwards — a larger fountain yet — and he gorged on his own spunk. It empowered him. Hundreds of meters below him — the city streets teeming with life — people stopped and gazed upwards, drawn to the sound of a god’s screams of bliss. Some people were scared by the sound. Others were indifferent and went about their daily business. Others, still, were aroused by it. After, Brett shrunk down to 400 lbs of muscle, standing at 6’6”. When Raj was recovered and refreshed from their first fuck, he’d have him measure his muscles. He decided that 400 lbs would be a good baseline from which to spring future growth spurts. He was thickly muscled and extremely aesthetic. He would grow and alter his physique to suit his moods. Right now, his mood was hunger. He decided to see what was in his huge American-style fridge. There was some leftover fried chicken, which he devoured bones and all. A bucket of potato salad went down the same way. He fried up a dozen eggs and wolfed them down right out of the pan. There was a liter of frozen yoghurt, which he added to a blender, chucked in some protein powder and cream cheese and more eggs. He whizzed it up into a decent-enough shake and chugged it down. Finally he was satisfied, but he would want more food, and soon. “Time to hire a live-in chef. He’ll cater to all my food needs, giving Raj more time to worship me and get fucked. Speaking of Raj...”. Brett returned to the bedroom and saw his little man-bitch sleeping soundly in the bed. Brett, now sleepy from so much food, decided to join him. He lay down beside him and enveloped Raj in his muscular arms. If he wanted to, he could grow huge again. But he decided to save his strength for later. There were so many amazing muscle adventures to be had. Part Three: Finding Bodybuilder Man-Bitches It didn’t take long for Brett to find a live-in chef. Within an hour of placing the online ad, there was a queue of anxious and horny chefs — mostly sex-hungry males — gathered outside his building. Brett stood on his balcony overlooking the city and regarded his ant-like minions from high above. His booming voice carried to all and sundry. And specifically, to the women that turned up expectant and starry-eyed for a chance to work for the muscle-god: “Sorry girls, guys only. Go home and play with your dildos!” The crestfallen women chefs didn’t have to be told twice. Brett picked a handsome enough fellah and ordered the concierge to let him up to the penthouse. His name was Pete, but Brett would call him Chef Guy. His salary was three times that of his last job, which suited him fine. He was also gay, so there’d be some perks to the job, too, no doubt. “Cook me up a huge meal before the gym, Chef Guy. Protein-based. And make something out of this!” Brett cockily handed Pete a bucket containing a mixture of his super-spunk and his muscle-tit milk combined. Brett figured that his own fluids would be more nutritious than anything any bodybuilding nutrition expert could develop. Not that he needed to take anything to grow, but it was fun to dabble in new things. Pete came up with a macaroni and hamburger bake doused in the milk from his new employer’s tits and gonads. Brett reckoned he could increase the potency of his issue if he hulked up to massive proportions before spewing forth this anabolic ambrosia. But for now, the food was delicious. Brett ate three huge helpings and a rack of lamb with all the trimmings whilst Raj and Pete watched and wanked furiously. The penthouse would forever smell of spunk from then on. After eating, Brett hulked up to 500 lbs, so that his stringer tank and denim cut-offs would appear membranous next to his incredible skin. He grew his lats out so that his arms rested akimbo, although he couldn’t really get his hands and hips to touch. He loved that feeling, to have muscles so huge that they restricted his movements. He wanted his button-fly to look as strained as possible, so he got Raj to take a scissors to the panel of material that conceals the fly — cutting it away entirely — so that the silver buttons glinted and strained visibly against the massive pressure caused by his junk within. Some of his pubes poked through the gaps in the fly, and every follicle dripped with his musky aroma. “Here, get a snootful of my scent before I head to the gym,” growled Brett, pushing Raj’s head into his crotch so that he could inhale his amazing crotch musk. Raj busted a nut once more and cried out in bliss, before Brett picked him up, sucked all the cum off his dick, then kissed him lovingly and set him back down. No available protein would ever be ignored or wasted. “You two don’t get up to any sexy mischief while I’m doing my workout,” he playfully admonished his two-man crew, although he winked as he spoke. That said, he picked up his gym-bag and left via the balcony. “Fuck it, I’m too big to fit in the lift. This way is faster!” He leaped over the balcony rail, powerful spring-like muscles in his legs bulked out massively to propel him far out over the city. It was an amazing feeling. He landed just a few meters from his regular gym, bulking out his leg muscles to massive proportions in order to comfortably absorb the impact of his landing. He made a massive crater in the street, and car alarms went off and windows shattered. He didn’t care. “City can bill me. I’m good for it,” he declared with lofty pride. His gym was a plush affair, mostly for male models and minor celebrities to work out in, but there was also a hardcore section. Brett avoided the locker room entirely; he’d only spend too much time in there posing and fucking the shit out of the other members. Fuck it, he made his own rules. He decided he was a bit overdressed for his workout, and bulked up by another 100 lbs or so until the stringer tank and exposed button-fly cut-offs flew apart like wet tissue paper. But he still had to think of the other members coming too soon. From his gym bag he removed a micro mankini. It was literally a pouch with string attached. He also slipped on a cock-ring. He didn’t really need to use a cock-ring, but he liked the feeling of extra pressure as more and more blood was forced into his massive tool. The pouch of the mankini barely engulfed the fist-sized mushroom head of his dick. The entire shaft of his monster dick — with thick, dark veins pulsing with power — was exposed for all to see. Brett decided his dick could use more size, and so with a growl that would turn an attack dog’s hair pure white, he forced his dick to grow and thicken to twice its size. “Shit forgot the cock-ring,” he lamented. The titanium ring stretched to contain the even thicker ‘trunk’ of Brett’s dick. “Hmm… fuckin’ thing is holding. Can’t have that. Gotta give it more size. Hnnnnnnnghhh!!!!!” Everyone on the gym floor looked on with awe. They all knew Brett, and couldn’t believe their eyes at his command of muscle-growth. It looked like magic to them, and it was the horniest, most incredible sight they’d forever admit to witnessing. But when Brett grew his dick to the size and thickness of an average man’s leg, the cock-ring exploded. Hot metal flew in all directions. One piece took out a section of mirror behind a rack of free weights, but fortunately no one was hurt. “Hmm, need another cock-ring,” the gorgeous behemoth mused, as he started searching about for a suitable replacement. The bar from a barbell would suffice, so he picked it up, and tried to bend it into a ring. The metal fatigued a little and heated up, but it wasn’t enough. “Need more size, more strength to bend this fucker!” And so more grunting and flexing followed, and as Brett’s monster bod bulked up to even huger proportions — muscles literally gobbling up free space as they became engorged with blood and serum and inhuman power — the bar gave in with ease. He bent it in two, and then into a ring. Crude, but it would do the job. He slid it onto his monster schlong. It was a little loose. Not a problem. He hulked more size out of his dick until the cock-ring was water tight next to his veiny organ. He leaked a bucket-load of precum, which splashed about as he jiggled and twirled his monstrous member. Precum splashed onto the transfixed onlookers. Brett’s musk filled the capacious room and grown men began to lick Brett’s stink off each other. As he bulked and flexed, so the mankini became even more stringy, his gigantic balloon pecs pushing ever outward, forcing the strings to strain and grow thinner. All this happened before he lifted a single weight. By the time he even began his workout, he’d bulked up to over 800 lbs. and almost eight feet in height. He could vary the height/mass ratio to any degree. He now towered above everyone; the next biggest guy in the gym that day was only 250 or thereabouts. Brett could snap him like a twig. In fact: “Hey, mouse boy… look at you, you fucking runt. How much can you bench?” Brett teased. “Er… up… about one-eighty, Buh-Brett,” Mouse Boy stammered. He was afraid of the beautiful and most muscular man alive, but he was too horny to care. Like everyone else in the gym, ladies included, no shorts or singlets remained dry once Brett was in the room. “Buh-Brett? Is that my name, Muh-Mouse Buh-boy? Dare you stammer in my presence?” Now Brett was getting a little pissed off. He decided he didn’t need to work out, but he wanted his arrogant fun. So be it. “Sorry, Brett,” said Mouse Boy, clearing his throat. He sported a not unimpressive erection in his tight black singlet. “Hmm… put more weight on the bar, say… four hundred. Then get on the bench and use a spotter,” the giant ordered. Worriedly, Mouse Boy tried to overcome reluctance balanced with horniness. He was already sliding around on his own precum at this point. The gym stank of it. “I can’t lift that much, Brett,” he protested, glad he could contain his stammering. Brett didn’t approve of stammering. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll have a little help, heh heh,” Brett chuckled. When the spotter was in place, Mouse Boy — the heaviest bloke in the gym next to Brett — got into position on the bench and tried not to feel like a little kid again. “Now neither of you move until you get the signal. You’ll know it when you… er… feel it,” Brett said with a wink. Then he left the floor. Lots of people stood around in silence. They exchanged nervous glances. No one knew what would happen next. After what seemed like a small eternity… The gym began to shake. Just a little at first, but quickly increasing. Beneath the bench upon which Mouse Boy was nervously ensconced — with his spotter trembling behind him — the floor beneath came away with a mighty concrete crack. It began to rise, an area of about eight feet long by four wide. Below the unearthed section of floor, Brett lay flat in the basement below. His huge hands gripping the piece of floor he’d removed upon which two grown men, a bench and four hundred pounds of iron were raised as though they weighed nothing all. Mouse boy couldn’t even raise the bar. He just lay on the bench with his hands tightly gripping the bar, with his spotter clinging on for dear life. Brett hefted out twenty-four reps before relaxing the floor back into place. Masonry dust filled the air, assaulting eyes and noses alike. Brett barely got a pump. “More weight… more mouse boys get onto this section of broken floor. Now… dammit!!!!” Brett wanted to break a sweat, even a little one. But there was no end to his strength. Hell, he could bench all this weight on the end of his dick if he wanted to. Reluctantly more men gathered onto the broken section of floor. One even sat down on Mouse Boy, who was now completely horny but crying at the same time. This was so humiliating, but his lust for Brett’s beauty and power overshadowed his pride. The bar was loaded with weight until it could bear no more. Two more spotters joined in, one on either side of the first guy. The section of floor now supported a dozen men. The weight was astronomical. But Brett could do it. He took the strain. He inhaled for what seemed like a minute, his monstrous chest bulking up to inhuman proportions. He pressed upwards with his mighty arms. The floor quivered a little, but slowly it went up, and up… and up. Brett’s dick grew larger and larger. The second cock-ring heated up and stretched with extreme fatigue. Veins exploded all over Brett’s body. He grew. And he grew some more. He was fucking huge. The weight grew lighter. “More bodies… more weight,” he screamed. “Please Brett… we’re fully loaded up here,” Mouse Boy pleaded. The floor began to crumble dangerously. It felt way too light. Finally, Brett gave in and let everything fall back into place. By the time he arrived back up from the basement, he’d shrunk back to around 600 lbs. But he was still a monster. “Bill me for the fucking damage,” he told the gym manager. And then to everyone else: “You’re all my man-bitches now. From now on you don’t train to look glamorous for photo shoots. You’re all to start hardcore bodybuilding. You’ll be drinking my tit milk and spunk as your protein. I want strong man-bitches to fuck. You got that?” All the men in the gym nodded obediently. They all wanted Brett so much. And just for a treat, Brett willed himself to get even more beautiful. His eyes got bluer and larger, his nose more rugged, his jaw more angular. His lips pouted fuller and his teeth sparkled brighter. His dimples grew a little deeper and his hair shone a more scintillating blonde. His neck became manlier and his Adam’s apple grew a little more prominent. His voice deepened and became even more masculine. Then he flexed his muscles and exploded out of the micro mankini. It had stretched as thin as hair on him and his gigantic cock made short work of the pouch. Women in the gym fainted. Brett got bigger and bigger. His muscles pushed out in all directions, becoming more cut, more striated. His body shone with glistening perspiration, simply because he willed his muscles to shine. “Still want more, you fucking twigs? Want your muscle-god Brett to get even bigger and more gorgeous?” “Oh yes,” came back the chorus. Brett concentrated and configured a double biceps pose. His muscles got larger. Mountainous cannonballs shot up as his biceps climbed higher than his clenched fists. Each bicep was five times the size of his head. His pecs swelled to mammoth size. His lats pushed out on either side, gorging on free space. His waist tapered as his oblique muscles and core abs became tighter and stronger. His legs became huge, with diamond hard cuts in between rolling muscles that left his balls with no room to hang, and so they were forced outwards, themselves swelling with size and power as he willed them to fill with his powerful, godly juice. He changed to a side chest pose. His pecs grew ever outward; truly muscle-tits to the extreme. His huge nipples gushed with milk, spraying everyone close enough to fight over it. The pec striations became deeper, darker. Dark shadows gathered beneath his pec shelf, soaking up the under-swell like a creeping black slick. His abs — now a twelve-pack—partially disappeared into the shadow cast by his pecs. He flexed more and more, grunting, screaming a manly caterwaul which declared his extreme power over his muscles and all those present who lusted to touch and get lost in them. He flexed down into a most muscular. Inhuman biceps hardened and bulged with deeper veins, dimpling into his pecs on each side. Cords thick as thumbs pushed out of his tree trunk neck as he grunted and growled and demanded more size and power from his muscles. He leaned harder and harder into the pose, and by now his dick was gushing his gorgeous nectar as readily as his tit glands. Everyone present was sprayed, driven into an orgy of uncontrollable extremes. Something occurred to Brett at this point: he could will his juice to grow everyone that partook of it. And he did. His incredible body began to pump it out of his dick and tits at a phenomenal rate. This didn’t deplete him in the slightest; in fact, it had the opposite effect; goading him on and making him stronger and more productive of fluids. All the men present drank of his juice, some fighting amongst themselves for the precious muscle-building liquid. This had the desired effect. Men in the gym began to grow. And seeing them grow around him made Brett want to grow even further. Hot, muscular studs transformed around him, first becoming middleweight bodybuilders, then light-heavy, heavyweight and so on. The air filled with the sound of lustful groans and moans of sheer delight and muscle-obsession. Clothing stretched and seams came apart. Some men couldn’t take it and came over and over, their spunk adding to the copious fluids splashing around the gym. Others were able to control their transformations and Mouse Boy bulked up to almost 400 lbs. Brett noticed this and chose Mouse Boy — whose real name was Declan — as his first. Brett was three times his size and weight at this point and so Declan felt weightless to him. “Fuck me into next week, Brett. Please!” Declan’s body stopped growing and he was huge at this point, easily way bigger than Mister Olympia. His body was delicious, huge and striated, with cuts that seemed hewn from glass. Brett wasted no time bending him over a machine and spreading his legs. Declan’s hole was that of a deeply muscled bodybuilder now, sporting thick, deliciously striated glutes between which a tasty hairy and sweaty hole gasped and implored to be penetrated. Brett’s massive twenty-four-inch dick was way too big to get into that moist pipe, but the Incredibly Aesthetic Muscle-God was too embroiled in his own insane muscle-lust to make his dick smaller. He barked an order to the next two biggest bodybuilders who he knew were completely drenched in his fluids. “Feed Mouse Boy. Let him lick my juice from your hot bodies. He needs to get bigger so he can take my dick. Do it now!!! GRRRRRRRR!!!!” Brett was in the zone. He kept his dick at its current size, but once Declan started to lap the cum from the bodies thrusting before him, so his growth spurted again. Dozens of pounds of muscle burst from his body and his hole equally grew and deepened. “Yeah, keep it up. I wanna fuck Mouse Boy so bad. He’s gonna enjoy being fucked by a god!!!” Just to make sure Declan didn’t surpass him in size and power, Brett molded his pecs to make his nipples point upwards, as he had done before. Muscle milk erupted from each oversized gland and he deftly guided the flow towards his mouth. This made him more powerful, and he exploded with a massive 500 lb. growth spurt in a few seconds. His height shot up to just under twelve feet. His strength was off the scale. Declan stopped growing at 850 lbs. or thereabouts. Huge, but nowhere near Brett’s scale. But at least he could now take Brett’s dick and started pushing back in sync with Brett’s enormously powerful forward thrusts. “Aw yeah….fuuuuuuck!!!” Brett couldn’t see what was happening below his gigantic pec-shelf, but he could feel it well enough. Declan’s buttocks felt amazing; tightening around Brett’s dick like they were designed for this function and nothing else. Brett willed the veins of his dick to harden and thicken to create better friction and so heighten the pleasure for both men. The feeling was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He wanted to keep Declan at this size, but wasn’t sure if it was possible. Did he really have the ability to do so? He wasn’t sure at this point. But he fucked him and fucked him, causing him to scream out things like: “Don’t let this end!” and “Brett, you’re a fucking god. Don’t stop!” But Mouse Boy could not be greedy. Other men in the gym were still bulking up thanks to Brett’s incredible body fluids. They all had to have their turn. Without a thought for Raj back at the penthouse, Brett took them all. The fucking lasted for hours. Brett continued to grow and get stronger. But eventually, when all men lay passed out on the floor of the gym — with equipment smashed and clothing lying in tatters all around him — Brett decided to take a break. An inexorable hunger washed through him. Not quite depleted, still, he needed to pace himself. He was new to this new life and power he’d been given. He had to explore it to discover the full range of his abilities. But he needed to eat. So, he shrank back to 500 lbs. and headed in to take a shower. Part Four: The Apology and So Much Growth A week passed, during which the smell of spunk in the penthouse of Brett Hillard never seemed to lessen with the passage of time. You only had to step into the capacious muscle-den to get horny enough to come all over the place, further adding to the compelling reek. But Brett was meticulous about such things and no drop of jizz was ever wasted. (except that one time, when he shot gout after gout of it out over the cityscape). Brett had a lot of growing to do, as did his man-bitches. Declan the Mouse Boy (oh how he hated that moniker) had been evicted from his apartment because he failed to meet the rent due to spending all his dosh on bodybuilding supplements. Brett let him stay at the penthouse until he could find another apartment with a landlord that wasn’t a dick. He even lent him some money to help him get out of a bind. Pete — or Chef Guy — continued to provide all the delicious meals a growing bodybuilder needed to get huge (and even ‘huger’). He liked pleasing the Muscle-God. Now he also had to cater to Declan’s food requirements. This wasn’t really a problem. All Declan ate was pasta bakes loaded with Brett’s ambrosial fluids, as well as the non-exhaustive chugging of gainer shakes. He worked out near-incessantly in the penthouse gym, always striving to better himself and grow for his mentor. He saw Brett as his mentor, although the Muscle-God didn’t really see himself in that role. He was too self-obsessed to ever spend time helping a lesser bodybuilder to get huge. All things considered, Declan seemed to be doing quite well. So much so, Brett would sometimes reward him by fucking him full of his amazing fluids. Pity the growth that ensued never stuck for more than an hour or so. Raj was feeling left out. One night in the sack, snuggled up next to the giant Adonis he said, “Are we officially a couple?” There was an earnest tone in Raj’s question. The bed creaked noisily as the 600 lb. muscle-monster rolled onto one enormous side to better address his boyfriend’s query. “Of course, we are. Isn’t it plain to see, little guy?” Brett had been calling Raj ‘little guy’ for several days. This was an upgrade from the ‘man-bitch’ status he reserved for all his fuck-buddies. “Yes, but… I don’t know, Brett. I seem to be drowning in muscle, of late.” “But you like being engulfed in all my amazing muscles… don’t you?” A hint of doubt rang from his tone, even as his humongous muscles twitched and flexed as he caressed his beautiful boyfriend. “Yes of course… but I thought we could have this place to ourselves. Pete is fine; we need him for our meals… but Declan living here, too?” Raj trailed off with an exhalation peppered with despair. “But we hardly see him, honey,” said Brett. He’d never called Raj ‘honey’ before. It felt like old married couple shit. Still, upon hearing it Raj’s eyes brightened a little. Seeing the tender side of Brett — however brief — was always nice. Brett went on: “This penthouse is huge. He practically lives and sleeps in the gym, only coming out for meals. We barely see him for more than a few minutes a day. His lust for growth is impressive.” “What about us? I know we haven’t been together that long, but we haven’t even been on a proper date. I’d love you to take me to a fancy restaurant and be romantic instead of always being cocky and self-obsessed.” Raj frowned with a little wetness in each eye. Brett got out of bed and flicked on a light. He was huge and naked standing over the bed. Raj got hard in a trice. “Brett not now. I’m too tired for sex. And a bit sore from the last pounding you gave me.” “Maybe if I hulk up to my biggest size ever, you’ll cheer up. Plus, we’ll go on a date tomorrow. I promise. I love you, Raj. Mouse Boy is just for fucking. I don’t have feelings for him. I’m just turned on by how much he wants to grow. But he’ll never be like this!” That was his cue to launch into a massive double biceps. Brett’s muscles snapped obediently into monstrous relief. Veins exploded all over his upper body as they fed his amazing serum-infused blood into every muscle-fiber. Then the fibers divided and thickened, resulting in more growth. He pumped up… impossibly huge. Growling seemed to help the process along. Brett dropped his arms and formed into a full lat spread. His lats flared wide and his pecs heaved upward, expanding… always expanding. Striations, dark and deep, cracked across his amazing muscle-tits. His cock slapped against his cobbled midsection with a loud, moist thump. Raj intermittently forgot about his woe and began to furiously beat his meat as his huge boyfriend got huger and huger before his eyes. Brett grew bigger and even more beautiful. His power was endlessly flexible; he could change his size at will whilst keeping the improvements to his face as the power applied them. His face just got more and more handsome, ruggedly so. His masculine lines knew no limits. His dimples developed dimples. His muscles enlarged to insane proportions. He changed his upwardly-curving giant dick to a downwardly-sloping one. It began to pour with precum. “Wanna drink and get huge, my love?” Raj groaned in bed and shot a premature load, much to their mutual dismay. The tacky fluid landed across Raj’s toned, naturally tanned chest. With just a little patch of dark hair between his somewhat unflattering pecs, Brett leaned down to lick up every drop, not wishing to waste the protein. It was also an expression of his love. “Take me on a date… then you can make me huge, darling,” Raj said, almost imploringly. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. It could only be Declan, as Pete was an employee of Brett’s and would never disturb them after hours. “What do you want, Mouse?” Brett’s voice was guttural and pissed-off sounding. “I smell come. Not the usual smell in the penthouse. Fresh stuff. I want some… please!” On the other side of the door, Declan sounded desperate. Brett thought about it for a second. Then: “Well now, Raj has already shot his load, which I licked to the last drop. So, you’re smelling my fresh precum. That’s what brought you here. You really can’t help yourself, can you, my little 300-pounder?” “I need to gorge on your fluids, and to become a massive bodybuilder… I need to grow,” Declan pleaded. “But your growth won’t stick. It’ll melt away like snow on a wet pavement before long,” Raj reminded the muscled interloper, almost relishing the prospect. He didn’t dislike Declan by any stretch; he just didn’t like him interrupting them during their intimate ‘boyfriend’ time. “So, what if it does? I can go back to the gym with my exaggerated muscles and pump iron so much, I’ll be snorting so much iron and sweat, I’ll choke.” Brett thought about it. Then: “He has been growing like a weed this past week. Even though his growth from my spunk and tit-milk is temporary, it’s helping him to build his body in the conventional sense. Raj, you should jot that one down in your observational notes for Doctor Weiss.” “Yes, I guess I should. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it, Brett!” Raj got out of bed and angrily stomped off to get his notes. “I’m too lusted-up to care about your feelings right now, Raj. Sorry if I hurt them though.” He didn’t sound like he’d meant it. And that was that for the night. Raj would sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. But for now: “I’m ballooning in size, Mouse Boy. Making my fluids nice and potent for you, heh heh!” Declan now lay on the come-sodden bed, with the giant Muscle-God casting a dark shadow over him. Brett’s now downwardly-sloping mega-cock streamed precum. Declan drank from it as though it were a faucet, gulping down the fluid as readily as Brett’s body could produce it. Whilst this went on below, Brett blew up his pecs so monstrously, they pushed his chin and head back to take up more room. His grew his nipples to dick-size and caused a torrential shower of tit-milk to rain down on Declan. The ‘not-such-a-Mouse-Boy-anymore’ stroked his own dick furiously, which triggered his growth and he began to get huge. “Holy shit, I feel a huge growth spurt coming on. Bigger than back at the gym when we first met!” Declan’s speech was broken up between the gurgles he made while gorging on Brett’s fluids, as well as his gasps of sheer muscle-lust and absolute bliss. “Keep going, Mouse Boy… get huge for Br—” Before he could finish: “DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT. GRRRRRRRR!” Declan exploded with rage. Drenched with Brett’s fluids, his growth was immense, and instant. Many hundreds of pounds of masculine muscle blasted out of his frame; in places his skin stretched painfully, resulting in red stretch marks that just barely avoided tearing. The bed collapsed under the weight of a 1000+ lb. behemoth who was drunk with power and the will to grow even larger. Despite his size, he moved with lightning speed, connecting a solid fist to the middle of Brett’s mammoth chest. The rock-hard pecs took much of the force, but enough remained to send Brett careening across the bedroom. He crashed into the wall with enough force to bring masonry down from above. Declan loomed over him, heaving with rage. “Who’s the Mouse Boy now, Brett?” Declan formed a massive double biceps, flaring his lats and swelling his pec-meats. His upper body exploded with mass and definition. The cuts between his muscles were deep and dark, and his body glistened with a sweaty sheen caused by the exertion of his growth. Then he did a full lat spread so immense, the bottom half of his face was swallowed up by pecs way larger than any Brett had ever sported. From across the room, in an open doorway, Raj caught it all on his camera phone. He was excited and terrified all at once, but scientific curiosity became the dominant emotion here, although he held the camera in shaky hands. “I’m suh-sorry, Declan,” Brett panted, clearly taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. He’d never been in a situation like this, in which he felt somewhat helpless. He somehow had to turn this to his advantage. “Can’t you see that you’re not always in control of your fate, Brett?” Declan was continuing to swell with size. His muscularity was immense. He’d easily passed 1200 lbs. in less than a minute, with no sign of slowing down. The more he flexed, the more his muscles liked it, and responded by growing larger, thicker, and more cut. His head scraped the ceiling of the room, and so he had to stoop. His dick was almost the size of a whole man, and it slammed repeatedly against his gigantic pecs as it twitched and spurted further growth. Despite being genuinely scared, the concentration of muscle musk in the room was now so great, that both men were stimulated by it. Brett was growing, but at a slower rate to Declan, who outmuscled him by 500+ lbs. It was then that Brett’s advantage came: “Fuck me, Declan. I’ll be your Mouse Boy for a change. You need to channel that rage into something, before you lose complete control.” Brett slowly got to his feet and offered his hole to Declan. The huge muscle-beast, also overcome with lust, couldn’t ignore such a tasty offer, and so he took Brett there and then, screwing him with his inhumanly massive come-pole. Brett’s strength was barely enough to push back sufficiently, but he just about managed it. Declan, about to lose all control over this temporary burst of power, drilled into Brett repeatedly, his massive shaft pummeling Brett’s muscle-ass enough to almost cause it to prolapse. Simultaneously, bent forward, Brett clamped his dick in between his mighty pecs and began drinking his own precum. He knew that when he blew his load proper, he’d need the extra energy to get the jump on Declan and finally regain control. Declan, not too experienced in fucking, came massively and sooner than he’d have liked. He pumped liter upon liter of his thick crème into his ‘mentor’ whose body drank it up like a sponge. This excited Brett’s serum-infused blood, and so his altered testosterone began coursing through him like never before. He came in his own mouth, and gallons of super-charged come torrented into his system, half of which was his own recycled stuff. Declan started to weaken and lose mass, gradually at first, but then the process accelerated. Brett didn’t grow, but willed his incredible body to become denser, and stronger because of it. All that charged come was absorbed into every cell in his body, and in his mind, he knew that he’d just become way more powerful than Doctor Weiss could ever have imagined. After about a minute, Declan was back to his 300 lb. self. He was exhausted, and collapsed into Brett’s arms, who then took him to a guest bedroom to recover. Brett shrank down to 750 lbs., but when he tried to get back to 600, he found that he couldn’t. “Wow, this must be my new default weight,” he marveled, catching himself in his mirrored sliding wardrobes that spanned an entire wall of his bedroom. Raj, naked and horny, went to his huge boyfriend, and felt even less of a man, now that Brett was even bigger. He was 6’8”, now, and his muscles were heaving and huge. He playfully bounced his pecs and they felt weighty and laborious to move. It was an awesome feeling, as though his muscles demanded that he grow stronger in order to exploit them to their fullest. “I’m so sorry about earlier, Raj. I was a jerk not to consider your feelings. Will you accept my apology?” Brett picked up Raj and before he could kiss him Raj said softly and sincerely: “Yes, of course. I love you, and maybe we rushed into this. But I’m still on the clock with Doctor Weiss’s research, so it’s a crazy volatile situation in which we’re both embroiled. We should expect the unexpected. I got it all on cam for Weiss. I hope you don’t mind.” “Of course, I don’t. You can put in on YouTube for all I care, although I expect it’d be flagged in a heartbeat.” “But I don’t want to try growing, myself. Not yet. Not until we know more about it. You might be able to control your growth and the lust it invokes, but lesser men? Declan couldn’t control himself. Had you not retaken control he might have exploded.” Brett nodded in agreement, lost in thought for a moment. Then, in a complete change of subject: “I’m taking you to the fanciest, most expensive restaurant in town tomorrow. So, we’d best get our glad rags on.” “Hmm,” began Raj, looking more contemplative than usual. He went through Brett’s vast clothing collection in the sprawling wardrobe. “Most of your clothes are stretchy, but you’re now many sizes too big for even your most accommodating garment. Can’t you de-hulk back to 600? Try it again. Really concentrate this time.” Brett did just that. But it was no good. He couldn’t get smaller than 750. His dick was larger, too. Secretly both men relished the fact that Brett’s new default size was much greater than before. But what about clothing? They spent two hours alone seeing Brett try on shirt after shirt. Some of them buttoned from the chest down, but none of them could close across his mighty mega-pecs. Other shirts of slightly lesser quality would blow apart at the shoulder seam, or at the biceps, as soon as he moved or twitched a muscle. It was fun for a while, bursting out of shirt after shirt. Likewise, pants were no joy. He couldn't even get a pair to go past his calves, let alone go up his gargantuan thighs. Eventually: “I doubt they’ll let a naked massive bodybuilder into their restaurant, no matter how much I bribe them. I’d really like to get dressed up for you, though. Something about clothing these massive muscles and being seen in public wearing clothes that barely leave anything to the imagination is quite the turn-on. For us both, no?” Raj agreed. And so did his boner. “Time to let my money do the talking. He reached for a phone and dialed the number for his personal clothier, Fortunato of the House of Trione, an Italian designer who only made clothing for muscled men and serious bodybuilders. Brett Hillard was a client, but he was now his BIGGEST client. Fortunato would have his work cut out, that was for sure. Brett had wakened the designer in the middle of the night. He didn’t sound pleased to be awakened from sleep, but Brett was succinct about his needs. “I’ve grown huge. Make me a new ensemble, and I want it ready by late afternoon tomorrow. I’ll quadruple your fee if you and your minions work through the night, plus I’ll throw in a yacht.” “Buh-but, it is so late, Brett darling. And I’d need to take multiple measu—” “I’ll laser scan myself and email you the measurements. I’m fucking huge now, and you’d better do a good job, or no yacht,” Brett interjected sharply. Fortunato really wanted a yacht. And so, he agreed to snap right to it and get to work making new clothes for the world’s hugest bodybuilder. *** At 3:45 pm the next day, the concierge buzzed up to the penthouse to inform its resident that a rack of clothes had arrived and that he would send them up. Brett was excited. His old clothes lay in tatters in his bedroom, and as penance for his behavior of the night before, he made Declan clean them up. Anything intact he could keep, which delighted Declan no end, as plenty of clothes remained that were now his for the taking. He was growing like a weed, and Brett’s cast-offs still reeked of his musk. Not only would Declan look amazing wearing designer couture for huge bodybuilders, but the smell would also keep him fluffed and lusty near-constantly. Raj went through some of the outfits on the rack and looked uncertain about some of them. “I think he gave you some room to grow, darling,” he said after a short examination. But the clothing was of the finest quality, even at such short notice. There were shirts and pants made of sumptuous fabrics — the best money can buy — all varied lengths and cuts, most of which were constructed so that they would flatter every delicious curve and bulge on Brett’s magnificent body. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll grow into them, heh heh!” Brett guzzled through a huge bowl of ice cream as he spoke. He didn’t have to worry about spoiling his appetite for dinner later. He rarely felt full, and he’d have to eat several more bowls before he came near to feeling that he’d ruined his appetite. The End
  22. The first part of this story may be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/21053-take-the-lid-off-part-one/ Take the lid off Part Two WIDE! Kevin wasn't able to think clearly or coherently any longer, but it didn't matter. He didn't want to think clearly or coherently any longer -- not if The Treatment were able to overwhelm his consciousness with the physical and mental sensations of becoming ... UH! ... becoming ... WIDE! And it was! Uh! WIDE! His throbbing arms and legs blindly thrashed against the surrounding, and comfortably warm, liquid saturated with anabolic salts, but the rational and conscious awareness of his physical surroundings was a doomed and shrinking spot of light, surrounded by an approaching chiaroscuro of male instincts, empowering embodiment and overwhelming physical sensations -- approaching, in order to devour the reticent and timid person he was used to show the world, at least at work. Approaching, in order to replace his former self with something more assertive, something more unyielding, something more PHYSICALLY EMBODIED, something more like ...like Todd. Todd. He shivered. His meat throbbed inside the suction hose. Placed there, because ... "And which purpose does that serve, Dr. Korsakoff?" "The solution need to be perfectly balanced. The biochemicals present in the perspiration of Subjects may affect The Treatment to a very small extent, but that is easily counter-balanced from the control room. If you excuse my bluntness, the chemicals present in prostatic fluid of a Subject, on the other hand, could be able to unbalance the solution of anabolic salts, causing the control-room to lose control of The Treatment. About two hours from injection, add or subtract a few minutes according to a Subject's individual susceptibility, each Subject's metabolism will enter an altered state, which, among other things, will cause production of extremely high levels of testosterone and growth hormones." Todd. Shivered. Throbbed. He had watched Todd grow. He had remembered Todd's assurances: "Of course not something too exaggerated. Just enough to lose this dad bod belly." He should have told Todd before The Treatment. Taken the lid off his guilty pleasures. Told Todd: "I want you to grow huge. Not hold back in the gym, for me. Forget everything I've said to you about 'too big'" Showed Todd the morphs he had felt so embarrassed about. Should have. Too late. Todd! Shivered. Throbbed. The doubts he had had. Exaggerated marketing? Potential dangers? Sharing his secrets with Dr. Korsakoff, but not with his husband. He had watched Todd grow. The male form, that Todd's rugby-bod had approached after an hour's Treatment inside the ModPod, had indeed lost the pudgy "dad bod belly", that was true, but it would have been a damned lie, to describe the male form, that Todd's physique approached, after an hour's Treatment and longer, as "nothing too exaggerated". He had watched Todd GROW. Watched Todd's muscle flex and relax. Flex. And relax. Flex. And relax. Watched Todd's body arch. Watched Todd's BULGING arms and legs blindly thrash against the surrounding, and comfortably warm, liquid saturated with anabolic salts, inside the ModPod. Watched Todd's male form approach a shape unheard of before: Like a Strongman physique, but conditioned like an Olympia Pro. A merger of two different ideals, into something ... Watched visible muscle fibres of Todd's chest emerge. Watched visible muscle fibres of Todd's leg emerge. Watched visible muscle fibres emerge all over Todd's wide and tall body. Watched the veins crawl all over ... Watched ... the impossible happen to the man he loved ... Had felt warm, almost like a temperature. Sweat trickling all over his body. So aroused by watching Todd. Felt a pressure build in his entire body. Been forewarned about it, by Dr. Korsakoff. To be expected. Primed for The Treatment. Clock ticking. Todd. Huge. Temperature. Pressure. Only dim memory. Lost track during Todd's second hour inside the ModPod. Lost ... His awareness had drifted ... Waking up ... Hadn't noticed, that he'd lost consciousness ... Voices ... Men around him ... Men over him ... A voice he recognised, but deeper ... Todd's voice ... "What have you done to him?" Todd had sounded angry. In a deeper voice. The sound of dark chocolate slowly trickling over a pudding. A voice, which steamed of masculinity ... Kevin had opened his eyes, but had felt dizzy, his gaze flickering ... hard to concentrate ... "The effect of the injection has begun prematurely. Let me down, and assist me with his Treatment. Quick! We have no time to lose!" Todd grabbing Dr. Korsakoff by the latter's lapels and LIFTING him from the floor, shaking him. UH! Hard to concentrate, because it felt so good. His body felt so good. Kevin felt ... Todd's naked body close to his. Lifting him. Carrying him to the ModPod. Todd's -- UH! -- fucking Hulk-body lifting him effortlessly and carrying him effortlessly, like Kevin had been weightless -- UH! Weightless. His mind drifted out of and in into existence, gaze flickering: Vague sense of worry, vague sense of guilt -- but the man he loved lifted and carried him to the ... Todd's body heat. Emanating from Todd's Hulk-body. Comforting. Protective. Close. Their eyes meeting. A gaze full of love, but also full of something more: Concern for Kevin's health. And something more: Todd's cheeky, confident jock-gaze enhanced into ... enhanced into ... UH! Kevin had shuddered in delight, and his memories of what had happened, when Todd and Dr. Korsakoff lowered him into the ModPod, was a blur ... They must have ... They must have fastened the suction hose to his dick, because it was there, keeping his pre-cum from contaminating the anabolic solution. They must have put earbuds into his ears, because the waves and subliminals supposed to assist his metabolism and enhance his confidence were buzzing in his ears. They must have fastened the mask over his mouth and nose, because he was able to breathe. Inhale. Air. And perhaps something more, because it felt like he ... felt like ... he inhaled EMBODIMENT. They must have closed the lid of the ModPod, because he was floating where Todd had floated minutes or hours before. And he hadn't been able to brace himself for the impact of the Hypertrophic Energy, when Dr. Korakoff switched the ModPod on, so when it hit him ... UH! When it hit him, he did what Todd had done. His muscles flexed. And relaxed. Flexed. And relaxed. He could feel them grow. Tangibly, he could feel the sensation of his muscles growing. Occupying more and more space inside the ModPod. Aware of the entire physical extension of his body. Aware of, how it was bombarded by the hundreds of tiny purple power bolts he had watched cause the impossible growth of Todd. UH! Like Todd. Growing like Todd had done! Power bolts. Causing his power-body to grow power-muscles. Causing him to buzz of energy. Strength-enhancing energy. But how was this even possible, despite the daydreams he had shared with Dr. Korsakoff, if Todd had kept his promise, to aim for a small improvement. Tone up a bit. Not bodybuilder-big, of course. Nothing exaggerated. EXAGGERATED! Yeah! His body was turning into something ... EXAGGERATED! And Kevin was becoming ... WIDE! Kevin wasn't able to think clearly or coherently any longer, but it didn't matter. He didn't want to think clearly or coherently any longer -- not if The Treatment were able to overwhelm his consciousness with the physical and mental sensations of becoming ... UH! ... becoming ... WIDE! His bullneck growing into ... UH! His steel-hard abs forming obscene globes, that ... UH! The veins crawling over his mound-like biceps ... UH! His legs pushed apart because the sheer volume, the sheer mass, the sheer powerful mass of his ... UH! The raw and untamed masculine instincts lurking in Kevin's soul devoured any remaining rational awareness of the ModPod itself and the two men who, from the outside, watched him transform. There was only the primal urge to become a WIDE HARD COMPACT MASSIVE embodiment of exaggerated masculinity, a mean muscle-machine, an assertive mountain of steel-hard POWER-BRAWN buzzing with that hypertrophic energy -- UH! -- yeah, the power-bolts ... They ... It was all a haze of purple energy now. Kevin could no longer tell the difference between his mind, his body and the hypertrophic power, which ... UH! ... which turned him into ... UH! ... transformed him into ... Cock throbbing. Mind throbbing. Muscles throbbing. His entire body throbbing. ... because of the hypertrophic power, which ... - couldn't believe it: Muscles the size of footballs, the size of medicine balls, the size of boulders - The concentrated face of Dr. Korsakoff, working hard, behind the glass pane facing the control-room ... The face of Todd outside the glass pane facing the Observation Lounge ... Todd's eyes ... Todd's gaze ... Love ... Horny ... Cheeky ... Smug ... UH! Wait! What's happening? Todd leaving the Observation Lounge ... Todd, side by side to Dr. Korsakoff ... The feeling, it ... can't concentrate ... Todd arguing with Dr. Korsakoff. Todd touching the controls ... An EXPLOSION of empowerment in his mind and body, and then, suddenly, Todd, taking the lid off the ModPod, opening it. Korsakoff upset: "You are NOT allowed to do that while the Treatment is running, and you are NOT allowed to increase the settings of the dashboard, will you now leave the area while I finish The Treatment of your ..." Korsakoff's voice fell silent. There was a brief flash of fear in his face, as he ran through the control-room and left it empty, and Kevin could sense the presence of something ... someone entering the ModPod, lowering itself into it ... And then, Todd hugged him, floating inside, grabbing his hands, moving them both to a standing position, their faces now above the surface ... Todd removed the mask from Kevin's face. Their eyes met. Todd just said six words: "I love you. Grow with me." Then their lips embraced in a kiss. Todd's big hand fumbled with the suction hose, and removed it from Kevin's dick. Kevin could feel pre-cum uncontrollably spurt out of his rod, and for a second he felt alarmed, but the next second he could feel the chemical reaction inside the ModPod enhance the sensation of unbelievable increase of muscle mass, and the hypertrophic energy crackled and buzzed all around them. He moaned in pleasure. His enormous husband grabbed his steel-hard hockey-butt, and he returned the gesture, becoming aware of, how big his arms and hands were now. He was almost as tall as Todd, and he was now wider, than Todd. His cock throbbed, and so did Todd's, as they pressed their huge, well-defined and steel-hard abs against each other's cocks. The sensation of growing was stronger now, almost too intense to bear, but only almost. The sensation of buzzing, empowering, strength-inducing ENERGY was stronger, too. It didn't matter why. What mattered, was that he and the man he loved were turning into ... UH! Hypertrophic energy crackled between their teeth, as their lips remained pressed against each other in a kiss without end. Their cocks trobbed. Their minds throbbed. Their muscles throbbed. Their bodies throbbed against each other. Their cocks were engorged. Their minds were engorged. Their muscles were engorged -- steel-hard, rock-hard, impossibly hard -- and he could sense both of them growing uncontrollably, but he didn't want the growth to be controlled. He wanted uncontrollable, limitless, energising, empowering ... He bellowed, but he didn't allow his lips to leave Titan-Jock. The Treatment had released Muscle-Beast. Muscle-Beast hugged Titan-Jock, clinged to him, pressing their uncontrollably forthgushing steel-hard muscular bodies tightly together. The liquid bubbled around their bodies. The hypertrophic energy caused ghostly purple light flicker along the walls and from the inside of the ModPod. There was only the primal urge to become a WIDE HARD COMPACT MASSIVE embodiment of exaggerated masculinity, a mean muscle-machine, an assertive mountain of steel-hard POWER-BRAWN buzzing with that hypertrophic energy -- UH! -- yeah, the power-bolts ... They ... It was all a haze of purple energy now. Muscle-Beast could no longer tell the difference between his mind, his body and the hypertrophic power, which ... UH! ... which turned him into ... UH! ... which turned both him and Titan-Jock into ... -- fuck, it was almost too ... ... almost too much, but only almost, because Titan-Jock and Muscle-Beast were turning into ... YES! THE BRAWN! THE POWER! His grip around Titan-Jock increased. So did Titan-Jock's grip around his body. He could feel Titan-Jock shiver. Shiver of lust. Shiver of excitement. Shiver of increasing STRENGTH. Shiver because of Muscle-Beast's increasing SIZE and PROWESS and POWER ... As Muscle-Beast was shivering because of Titan-Jock's increasing ... UH! Yeah! More! Yes! ... transformed them into ... When they came, the chemical reaction intensified, and caused a loop, leading to the buildup to the next orgasm. The muscle-building potential of the anabolic solution doubled, and doubled again, exponentially. Purple power bolts caused the structure to rock, but the two heavy behemoths stood unperturbably at the epicentre of the havoc, unshaken, unharmed, ecstatically lost in and revelling in the sheer physicality of themselves and each other. Increasing. Again. And again. And again. * * * "It didn't turn out bad, did it?", the photographer asked. "No. It was an amazing experience. I could recommend a Treatment, if you can afford it. The first three photo sessions, we had to work for free, because the company used the photos in the ads, that payed for the repair, but I love the way it feel. I just wish, I had told Todd earlier, and that he had told me beforehand. Do you have many shoots left? The clock is ticking, and the fire brigade will wonder why I'm late. It feels good to be able to serve the common good, now when I'm built like this."
  23. Take the lid off Part One When Dr. Korsakoff initiated the process, Kevin felt how his arousal intensified, but he also felt a twitch of worry and regret. He blushed. He hadn't been entirely honest with Todd, and married couples were supposed to be honest, weren't they? The humming sound from the Modification Pod slowly and gradually grew louder. Taking the medical aspects of it in regard, when he first heard about it all, he had expected to have to wait for Todd's return from the Treatment at some sort of separate ward or hotel for next-of-kin, but no: Friends or relatives were allowed to watch the entire Treatment, if The Subject agreed to that beforehand. The small lounge adjacent to the Modification Pod was obviously designed on purpose, to make the experience of relatives or friends of The Subject comfortable. He sat comfortably in a dimly lit room a half-stair under the level of the Modification Pod, and, from Kevin's view, the Modification Pod resembled a large aquarium, fixed to the wall of the Observation Lounge at eye-level. "No, it's a fairly common request. We actually expect most of our Subjects' significant others to be present and watch the Treatment, and we have accommodations ready for that purpose." Kevin briefly remembered Dr. Korsakoff's words from the interview. Wasn't something wrong with him, if he had been able to talk more openly and honestly about his fantasies with Dr. Korsakoff, than with Todd himself? The memories of the surveys they had both taken individually before the Treatments, the promises of Dr. Korsakoff to design unique and individually tailored Treatment Profiles for each of them, based on the answers of them both ... "What did you answer?" Kevin had asked, but Todd had just looked smug. Kevin loved when Todd looked smug. Snuggling up close to Todd's burly rugby-physique with the little belly, that never disappeared entirely, despite these years at the gym ... The smell of Todd's armpits ... Todd looking smug ... Todd's idea in the first place, to consult the company about the Treatment ... Kevin's doubts: Sounded too good to be true, like one of those Muscle Growth stories he read online and erased from his browsing history on their computer, in order that Todd wouldn't find out ... Kevin blushed again. * * * "No, of course not. Not something too exaggerated. Just enough to lose this dad bod belly." "Todd, you know that you are my hero, and that's not a dad bod belly. You are more built than half of the other guys at the gym, and you know it." "Would feel more comfortable without it. And as I said, not something too exaggerated. I went for the option, which will allow you fill in a survey, too, so I put my destiny in your hands. Afterwards, I'll look 50% like how you wanted me to improve, and I hope, that you will return that favour, by allowing me to have a 50% say about your Treatment." Snuggling up close. Todd. And his dishonest reply: "Of course. I don't wish any of us to look like the more extreme options in the folder, of course. And if you want me to undergo it with you, I'm honoured. Could make this hardgainer bod a little bit more toned, couldn't it?" "You don't think I'm throwing away money, for some ridiculous vanity project?" "No. No, I wasn't just aware of its existence until you showed me. Just perplexed. Didn't think it was possible or legal. Make me grow. But not too extreme, of course. And I'll tell that company about how I would like them to modify your body composition. Todd, do you know, that you are hard?" "Just feel excited. I'm so glad, that you are willing to grow together with me." * * * Kevin's awareness returned to his present surroundings. Behind the thick glass-pane, Todd's imposing body floated in the liquid -- a solution saturated with anabolic salts, as Dr. Korsakoff had explained earlier. Kevin felt hot. Sweat trickled in his armpits and from his brow, just as it had from Todd's body two hours earlier. It was probably the effect of the injection kicking in. A mask allowed Todd to breathe inside the ModPod. That made it difficult, to discern the facial expression of Todd. Some sort of spasm caused Todd's jock-next-door physique to convulse. Kevin suddenly felt worried. It looked like Todd flexed all his muscles all at once, and then relaxed. Flexed. And relaxed. Flexed. And relaxed. What if Dr. Korsakoff took Kevin's fantasies literally? What if Todd, to 50% at least, ended up how Kevin wished him to be, and didn't like it at all? What if their marriage ... He'd been a fool. The humming sound grew louder. Power emissions crackled inside the ModPod. Kevin could see hundreds of tiny bolts of -- what did Dr. Korsakoff call it? -- Hypertrophic Energy hit Todd's exposed body. Todd's nice tan becoming more even, becoming darker, achieving a sort of golden-bronzed hue, and the pudge, that had bothered Todd so much and Kevin so little, began to shrink at a visible speed. If this was The Treatment was possible to do, Kevin regretted how much he had assured Todd, about his own goals: "No, just tone up a bit. Nothing exaggerated. Not bodybuilder-big, of course. Just a small improvement." He should have told him. He should have told him before. * * * Two hours later, it was he who floated inside the ModPod, and Todd who sat outside in the Observation Lounge, watching. * * * Chapter two is found HERE
  24. SecretlyWriting

    Growing Streamer Episode 1: The Beginning

    Tanay was looking at his computer on the lecture table in his dark room. The lubricant and napkin were sitting next to the laptop in the middle. "Greetings! I'm Ayri6533, this is my 6th broadcast!" The on-screen broadcaster was the person Tanay had been waiting for in the dark at midnight. Although the interest in Ayri's gay broadcasting has increased since he started 2 months ago, it was still well below the average. He was chosen to test a new implementation by the broadcast site. Even though people didn't know what he looked like because of the mask he wore on his face, there was something else holding them there. "Don't forget to hit the like button before you start." Although his muscular body and large penis attracted attention from the very first moment, the application that the site tried on him was the most crucial aspect. Half of the money he received from viewers went to the site instead of a quarter (which was the usual percentage). For that expense, publisher's body was getting muscled, taller and stronger. Ayri was 5'8 when he first started, he has now reached 6'4 and almost became a giant. "Thank you for $4 SexistSquirrel2017!" Although change in his body was barely visible, it was evident that he felt pleasure as it expanded. He had medium-length blonde curly hair and green eyes that could be seen from under the mask. He was usually very polite to his audience, although he sometimes acted cocky. Tanay couldn't believe his eyes when he first saw him grow taller in the stream. Since then, he has been sending donations in every broadcast. There was also the fact that the only person who could make him horny enough to masturbate was Ayri. "Prepare your staff because this stream is going to be long and hot!" The chat was full of simps. 'Forget the story. Take off those pants!' "Hahaha, let me do my damn stream." said Ayri. 'What will you act like this time?' There was a slyness in Ayri's voice. "Guess what." 'Kind boyfriend?', 'Flirting with us while lifting weights?' "No." said Ayri with a 32-tooth smile on his face. "In this stream I'll be your..." he paused for the dramatic effect. "I'll be your horny boyfrend." He opened his shirt in one go without bothering with buttons. Beneath him, his bulging muscles were immediately noticeable. From triceps to chest to his six pack, he was developed enough to make most bodybuilders jealous. Tanay gulped. He slowly moved his hand towards his swelling penis. Ayri started to run his hands over his chest. His muscles had grown so much that they protruded forward like a breast, but they looked quite hard. "I'm sure your dick is hard up already. Go grab some toilet paper somewhere and make sure no one's around." Tanay stared at him without taking eyes off him and began to slide his hand on his thingy. He looked at the unbalanced contractions of those muscles, the area they cover, the penis as thick as a beer can... Tanay pushed his trousers off his legs and accelerated masturbating. As he watched Ayri's body, which had grown too large to fit in the frame, Tanay's penis began to hurt from the pleasure he was experiencing. When Ayri looked at the camera by running his tongue slowly over his lips, Tanay ejaculated by banging his fist on the table to endure the pain he was experiencing in his dick. He hastily wiped off the sperm that had splashed onto his computer. "How was it?" said Ayri, slightly out of breath. Tanay just stared at the screen for a while. As he regained consciousness, he sent the donation he had kept. "WHAT, $200?! Thank you very much TN261! Is there a youtube video you want me to open or something to do?" Ayri's body was visibly enlarging on screen after donation. His muscles tightened, his head sticking out even further from the frame. Sounds of pleasure came out of his mouth. As Tanay looked at what he saw, he felt his newly ejaculated penis aching. He started typing in the chat an answer to the question. That night, he thought he would never meet this person. Accepting this made him sad.
  25. MrWritr

    Welcome to the Frat (Part 1?)

    (This is my first sample story! It contains NSFW moments, hypnosis, muscle growth, and dubious consent [although for the purposes of this story the characters do consent]. Enjoy!) --------------------------------- Welcome to the Frat --------------------------------- It had all started out innocently enough. Jake was walking down the sidewalk through his college campus when it had happened. The financial stress of the situation was starting to get to Jake; unable to get a scholarship and with loans running high it looked like his part time job wasn't going to be enough to pay off for another semester of college. That’s when he came across the flyer. “OFFERING SCHOLARSHIPS FOR NEW PLEDGES!” That’s what it took to catch his attention. He went to the lamppost on which the flyer hung, noting as he went that most of the tabs with the number to contact were already gone. Was this for real or just a scam? “OFFERING SCHOLARSHIPS FOR NEW PLEDGES! “The fraternal order of Alpha Beta Sigma is offering scholarships for students interested in joining an international brotherhood of men in the arts and sciences! Alpha Beta Sigma is world renowned for the quality of its members in the fields of engineering, psychology, fine arts, and many other fields of study! We are accepting all applications for students with interests in pursuing one of the following majors as well and partaking in community service projects! “The current majors for which we are seeking in earnest are: “Biology “Chemistry “Engineering “Human Services “Psychology “Do you not see your major listed? Give us a call or text with one of the tabs below and we will see if you’re qualified for a scholarship. Once tabs run out a waiting period will be in effect until all candidates are reviewed. “Thank you for reading our notice! We hope to hear from you soon! “Signed, “Mike, treasurer.” Only two tabs left… Jake began to wonder how serious it was. Should he take one? He was majoring in psychology, something his mom and dad frequently rebuked him for choosing. It was, however, a passion that he wanted to pursue. After many nights of arguing with his parents, Jake finally made his point clear that he would go for a psych major, but without any funding from his parents. Now, financially alone and on the brink of having to take a break from college, an opportunity had presented itself. Would it take care of his loans? No, but it would give him a much needed break. After a few moments Jake slowly tore a tab from the bottom of the flyer and continued on his way, stuffing the tab in his pocket. This was a perfect way to forget about the piece of paper. Even after mentally telling himself that he would look into it after class, Jake promptly forgot as soon as he entered another campus building. After the day at school he arrived back at his dorm with a meal from the gas station nearby. After emptying his pockets and finding the tab within he stopped to think and remember what it was from. He had forgotten all about it up until now. He sat at his desk and ate as he sent the text. Jake: Hey I saw your flyer and got a tab from it. Do you guys still have that scholarship opportunity? It would probably be tomorrow before he heard anything, he rationalized as he closed his messages. Jake then opened up a streaming service and flipped his phone sideways to have something to watch as he ate. About halfway through there was a sharp PING that rang through the air. From: Mike? Hey, yeah we still have it. You want to come by the frat at some point? I'm here all week when you have time. W... Jake opened his messages again to read the full message. It continued, Mike:... What kind of major are you? Jake began typing and messaged this guy back. Sure enough he seemed legit, not like some rando whose friends duped him into a prank. Hopefully, Jake thought, he wouldn’t be the one getting pranked in the end. Jake: Hey man, names Jake. Jake:Is this Mike? Jake:Im a psych major and saw that you all were looking for psych majors? In a few minutes there was another response in a couple of texts. Mike: Yeah, dude, this is Mike. We should still have a scholarship for psych majors open. Let me check rq There were a few moments of waiting before the speech bubble popped up again. Yeah, Jake, looks like we still have some psych major openings for the scholarship. If you have time tomorrow around 2 I should be available. Hopefully this wasn’t some sort of sick prank. Jake typed again. Jake: I have a class until 2:30. Can I come by then? A few more moments and the response came. Mike: That works. I got ya down for 2:45, but you can come earlier. Just bring a transcript with you or a screenshot of your classes with your uni ID. Jake: Awesome thanks man ----------------- Jake found himself outside the fraternity, a large brick building on the edge of the campus with “ABS” proudly bolted onto the brick with member navy and white flags flying in front of it. He opened the glass door leading into a hallway, a hand sanitizing station immediately within. He could hear the sound of people coming from primarily the left as he entered, but thankfully the sign in front of him said that the chapter administration was to the right, a much smaller hallway with a seating area across from some doors. He turned to the right and began to walk down the hall, looking at the pictures and trophies in a glass case as he passed. Jake knew that Alpha Beta Sigma was well known for some of the best athletes and a good portion of the brightest minds, but the amount of awards was staggering. It took up two cases, and all of these trophies and medals were just for this chapter. Maybe he could get more out of it than just a scholarship… As his attention turned away from the trophy cases, he saw the small waiting area just ahead inside a room marked “Administration Offices.” He walked in to be greeted by a small row of chairs just inside the door with an empty desk in the corner and a short hallway of doors just beyond. With no one at the desk, Jake walked down yet another hall, passing labeled doors as he went, most of which were closed. “Chapter President,” said one. Another stated “Chapter VP.” The third by which he passed was open, a man sitting behind it. It read “Chapter Treasurer.” Jake knocked on the door and the young man looked back up at him. He was in his mid twenties for sure with a strong jawline and a thick beard over it. His facial features were strong, rugged, and he had a very masculine figure. Jake could feel his dick twitch just from looking at him and let his eyes travel downward. The man’s body was wide but covered by a hoodie, making most features indiscernible underneath. “Hello, I assume you’re Jake.” the man asked with an upward inflection, his bassist voice making Jake feel like he was rumbling. “Uh, yeah, hey,” Jake stated with a smile. The man smiled and motioned for Jake to come in. “Great! Come in, have a seat. Name’s Mike.” “Yeah, good to meet you, Mike,” Jake replied. He walked into the small office and took a seat on the other side of the desk. Jake’s eyes met Mike’s and he couldn’t help but feel a flush coming over him. Just staring into those deep, caramel voids were making him feel slightly weak in the knees. Thank goodness he was sitting down. “So, are you like a professor, or administrator, or…?” Jake continued Mike chuckled in response, his face lighting up in a brilliant white smile fit for a movie star. “Nah, I’m a senior student, going to a degree in engineering myself. Which leads me to why you’re here.” Mike opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a file with Jake, Psych. Maj. on the tab. “Here we go,” Mike mumbled as he opened the folder up, a bright flyer on top which Mike promptly handed to Jake. “Just some reading material, we normally give it out for RUSH and recruiting events but it gives you a synopsis of what you can expect. If you don’t care, can I see the transcript and a university ID?” He then pulled the remainder of the paperwork out of the folder. Jake handed over his transcript and ID as he glanced through the flyer. The glossy paper had the same colors as the flags outside. At the top of the flyer it read, “ALPHA BETA SIGMA WANTS YOU" Below the title there was a group of men all dressed differently and each with a very American-esque reenactment of Uncle Sam in all blue and white, each wearing a striped top hat for some extra cheese. One was a scientist of some sort in a lab coat with glasses; another an engineer holding his compass, ruler, pens, and blueprints; the third was what was probably supposed to be a manager or business owner. One thing was strange about all three though- to put it mildly, they were jacked as hell. How had they even gotten into those clothes to take the picture? Not that Jake was complaining… They must have gotten some of the best looking guys in the fraternity for this. Below them were two columns of three rows, each with a different virtue for the fraternity: INNOVATION HONOR UNITY LEADERSHIP INTEGRITY SERVICE Along the side was “We want YOU to join our community! We at Alpha Beta Sigma are a community and brotherhood of leaders, thinkers, and diligent workers ready to tackle the world! We offer scholarship programs, study sessions and tutors, connections with coaches for most sports, and so many other offers! Interested? Come by your local chapter today and see how your brothers can work with you!” As far as Jake was concerned it was largely the standard recruitment ploy. “Okay, looks like everything’s good to go on the admin front…” Mike chimed in suddenly as he finished writing something on about the fifth or sixth paper in. “You’re in as a psychology major which puts you ahead of a lot of the other candidates. We don’t have a large psych major population so it’ll be good to have someone in that demographic. So, are you interested in just the scholarship or is there something else you were looking for with our fraternity?” Mike asked finally and looked at Jake again, those soft brown eyes staring back into his soul. “Well… uh…” Jake found himself looking down at the flyer for help. “I do need some help in some of my core classes so that would be nice.” “Yeah, of course! We offer tutors for almost every class. As you probably saw we have a lot of connections with coaches and other clubs around the campus from theatre to football, from newspaper and journalism to the future rocket scientists club.” He chuckled more with the last one. “Cool guys in that one, but may not be up your alley. We also offer community service projects, which we require twice a year although most of our brothers sign up for more, and we invite all of our members from pledges to senior year students to come with us on mission trips and nationwide frat meets.” Jake paused for a moment before answering, was he really just getting the street pitch here in this office? “Yeah, that sounds great, but I gotta say it’s mostly just the scholarship and tutoring.” “Not a problem at all. Let me walk you through some of this paperwork and we’ll get you signed in as a pledge-” “Well, uh, one thing first,” Jake interrupted after hearing the word ‘pledge.’ “Yeah, man, what’s up?” Rather than looking angry or confused, Mike just calmly looked up from the papers and back into Jake’s eyes. “When you say ‘pledge…’ does that mean, like… hazing or anything?” Mike nodded in an understanding fashion and began to explain, “Understandable, it’s a stigma that sticks with the term ‘frat’ or ‘fraternity’ as a whole; it brings up images of a bunch of guys lined up and forced to do embarrassing and humiliating things that they don’t want to do. Well, as you know, most university systems have outlawed the threat or concept of hazing entirely, this university is no different, but what makes our fraternity different is that we don’t allow hazing at all. We don’t entertain the concept of it. Even if one of our older members or administrative brothers is slightly serious about it they’re stripped of their fraternal title and kicked out. We don’t tolerate hazing.” Jake visibly relaxed and took the stack of papers. Mike, meanwhile, stood and came around to the other side with Jake. As Mike rose from his chair Jake looked on as the man continued to stretch towards the ceiling. Holy shit, Jake thought, this guy’s a giant. Mike moved around, his legs and the baggy jeans around them shuffling to the side before resting in the chair next to Jake’s. Jake could feel the heat radiating off of the guy. Why did he need a hoodie, exactly? And from the sound of the fibers popping as the big man sat down the baggy pants seemed too tight to be baggy. That’s when Jake noticed Mike’s thigh, or rather how the denim clung to Mike’s thigh. Is every dude in this frat massive? He thought, thinking back to the flyer. “Do I need to move?” Mike interrupted “Why do you say that?” Jake asked, trying to keep his composure. Was his bulge showing? “You look like a tomato, dude.” Fuck. “No, no, I’m good. It’s probably just from the cold outside. Y’know flushed face and all that.” Mike didn’t say anything but just gave a sly smile. The two then went through the paperwork. It was about 4 PM when everything was finished. Besides the paperwork, the two sat and talked with each other before Mike stood up. “Wanna go meet some of your brothers? I can walk you out and send you an email or text with your induction ceremony after I talk with the other admins.” “I think I’m gonna head home, but let me know about that… induction ceremony, you called it?” “Yeah, dude! And, hey, thanks for stopping by today,” Mike replied with a grin. Jake said his goodbye and walked out of the front of the building. --------------- It was a couple of days later when Jake received the email. “Dear Jake, “We thank you for your interest in our organization and are delighted to tell you we have accepted and are moving forward with your application to the fraternal order of Alpha Beta Sigma! We find your GPA of 3.5 acceptable for entrance and, as well, this GPA allows you to participate in our scholarship program for which you applied. We would like to have an induction ceremony for you and your fellow pledges. The date set for your and your fellow initiate brothers’ induction into the fraternity is scheduled for December 12th. We hope that this is an appropriate time, but if not we urge you to contact our assistant Liam at this time. We thank you for taking the time to express your interest in us and look forward to seeing you soon. “Best regards, “Keylan, Alpha Beta Sigma Chapter President” At the same time Jake felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out to look at the screen and see Mike’s message. From: Mike? Hey, man! Keylan went ahead and approved your application! Did you get it? Jake opened his phone and started to respond Jake: Yeah, dude! I got it! Thanks so much! Mike: No problem, man! See you on the 12th? Jake: You got it dude! -------------- A couple days passed before Jake found himself back at the frat house, himself in a nice button-up shirt and khaki pants. It’s something he usually wore for work, but since the rest of his clothes were more casual and this was his best suit that is what he decided to wear here. Cars were parked all around the building, music booming from the inside, lights strobing to the beat of the music, the whole affair seemed less like a ceremony and more like a party. He walked to the door of the frat and opened it up. Inside was an array of colors and flashing lights. Streamers covered the ceiling and floor, the trophies and plaques that had shone so brightly before with a golden light were now strobing to the beat as well. The administrative office area was dark leaving only one way to go. He turned down the left hallway, stepping to the beat without even realizing it. He walked past a dark stairwell on his right and finally came to a large rec room, the room ablaze in a rainbow of colors, and the people as well. He looked around seeing a number of guys, a lot of guys. Most were dressed rather casually and those who weren’t were in similar dress to him. Most of the guys dressed like him were also built like him - fairly skinny. They were gathered along one side of the room, seemingly trying to keep to themselves, talking loudly over the music despite their discomfort. It was the other guys that had them so gun shy, and Jake soon saw why. The majority of the guys here were huge, the large muscles on their frames and heavy bodies making the floor dance with them. He had never seen the sheer amount of muscle packed into one room, not to mention all of them were giants. Some wore their fur like carpets while others kept their bodies trimmed or clipped, regardless each one of them were unashamed to show their bodies for what they were - godlike and perfect. Most were dancing shirtless, their pecs and abs exposed, strong and boulder-crushing arms over their heads or around another man as their shining skin pulsed with the ever-changing light. He saw the men dancing less like friends at a party and more like couples about to do some serious ‘business’ later. The more he looked around, the fewer shirts he saw, some wearing harnesses and collars in lieu of any clothing. Then he made the mistake of looking down. FUCK! Has someone accidentally bred horses for these dudes? Like, all of them? Those that were hard had dicks easily over ten inches at the smallest and those who were soft, which weren’t many, had a cock that easily slapped their thighs as they moved to the beat between their immense thighs. A hand clapped on his shoulder. Jake wheeled around to see Mike there with a smile on his face. Bro was stacked too. While not half- or fully-naked like his brethren his clothes didn’t hide as much as they did the other day. It was the pec shelf that caught his eyes first on that wide frame, the fact that three of the buttons were straining to hold back the fur-covered mountains within. He traced the arm from Mike's shoulder to his own. That shoulder, more like the deltoid that had completely strangled the shoulder, had bunched up in the fabric, making it look like the seam was about to rip, and the bicep-tricep combo below it put extra strain on the middle of the sleeve. If Jake didn’t know any better he could swear he saw veins in the dancing lights, and that was with the sleeve rolled up onto the upper arm. His forearm was laid completely bare, the fur-covered maze of sinew and muscle pumped with strength had veins wrapped around it like vines from his football-sized hands to the comparatively small-looking elbow. “Hey, Jake!” came that familiar voice. “Glad you made it! I think you’re the last one to arrive.” Mike looked much more comfortable, less stressed than the mid-twenties man he had seen the other week. “U-uh, yeah…” Jake replied with a slight stutter. “It’s, uh, good to be here and see everyone.” Mike just chuckled in response. “It’s alright, bro, you’re not the only one that’s uncomfortable,” he stated with a nod to the guys lined up like wallflowers. “Normally we’re not this… expressive, but with so many new additions to the frat a lot of us felt the need to celebrate.” Jake looked back to the giants on the dance floor, their sweaty bodies making the room shake as they danced. It was then that Jake noticed the sheer stench. It had hit him when he had come into the building but he had shrugged it off as normal for the party he heard happening, what he hadn’t expected was the smell of sweat, musk, and what he could only describe as a fresh load. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your time too,” Mike couldn’t help but chuckle. Jake had a raging hard boner from the moment he looked on the dance floor, and the sight, smell, feel, and sound of the man beside him was doing that leaking nub no favors. “Heh… yeah… thanks… Uh, when is this ceremony?” Jake asked, trying to push past the awkwardness. If all the brothers in the frat looked like gods, where did he fit in? Was this really a ceremony for him? “I think Keylan has it set up for about an hour from now. Lemme check.” Mike turned his head and shouted. “Yo! Keylan! Prez! Get over here!” It was at that moment another large man came upon them. The man was similar in height and size to most of the men here, but whereas Mike’s eyes were intimidating yet gentle in their caramel hue, Keylan’s eyes black were as coals, simultaneously smoldering and intelligent, perceptive and focused. “What’s up, Mike?” boomed the deep voice. It seemed to deafen even the music pounding in Jake’s ears. That chest slowly heaved up and down, the thin fabric of the white shirt stretched like Saran wrap over it. From the looks of it two buttons had already been made casualties, a tie put in place in an attempt to cover the hole they left. “This is Jake, the one who signed up last week,” Mike explained. Jake could feel those eyes searching him, probing him. It was almost like they were inside of his own head. Jake wanted to look away from the large man but found himself getting pulled in deeper and deeper. “You remember, right?” Mike asked, the words seeming sluggish to Jake’s brain. “The one that you thought would make a great psychologist?” Jake felt the words slur in his mind. The room felt like it was warping around him. He felt if this man asked him anything Jake would give it up to him with no hesitation. “You know, the gay one?” Mike offered further. The world began to fade away. The words Mike just said barely registered in Jake’s brain. Keylan then chuckled and blinked. Jake could feel the haze on him lessen. Keylan looked away and back to Mike. “Yeah, I gotcha,” Keylan replied with a smirk. “He seems like the most promising one here.” Jake slowly came back to reality, the music coming in again. What had just happened. Mike nodded. “Glad you approve, prez,” he smirked and elbowed the president in the ribs. Keylan didn’t even flinch. “But yeah, we were just wondering when the induction ceremony was going to start.” “We can start here in a few minutes. Was mostly waiting for everyone to get here,” Keylan replied. He turned back to Jake. “Does that sound good to you?” He asked. Those eyes bore down on him again. “Yes, sir…” he found himself saying. Sir? He asked himself. Why say that? “Great, I’ll get everyone rounded up and we can get started.” Jake watched the man walk off, staring at that wide back threatening to pull the shirt apart at the seams. Mike seemed to be watching as well, though his vision was pulled down lower. Jake saw what Mike must be staring at: under that wide back tapering to his waist that appeared to corset his body was a thick ass ready to pop out of the jeans and a third leg fairly obviously lining one leg of his pants. When Keylan disappeared into the throng of bodies, Jake turned his attention to Mike who seemed to be in another world entirely. Jake was going to ask Mike what was up when the president’s voice came over the speakers. “Brothers! Could I have your attention?” The crowd stopped dancing one by one and turned to look toward the DJ’s stand on the far side of the room. How had Keylan made it over there so quickly? “With our last pledge here, let’s give a big hand to the men who worked so diligently and were fortunate enough to cross our path! Welcome pledges Kris, Casey, Ben, Matt, and Jake!” The crowd erupted into applause, heads of numerous men turning to look at the lineup at the wall, a few turning towards Jake and Mike as they found the last pledge. The eyes were unsettling on him. They seemed less intimidating than Keylan but there was something about them… “Now then! We will start making our way to the basement for the initiation ceremony! Mike has assigned an older brother to each younger brother as we have done in the past to ease the transition from pledgling to full brother. If our pledges will wait where they are, Mike will come around and introduce each to their older brother.” The crowd began to shift, going into the hall as Mike pulled Jake back to the lineup on the wall. Most of the pledges looked as confused as he felt. Older brother? When did this happen? Thankfully, Mike was there to explain as four other guys made their way over. “As is tradition with our fraternity, we have assigned each of you an older brother, one that will be with you on your journey tonight and even after to help you find resources, answer questions, and be a guiding force.” This sounded more recited than just information. Was the ceremony already underway and they just didn’t know it? “One day you too will pick up the mantle as we have and join us in welcoming and helping our new pledges, your future younger brothers. But let’s get started. Kris, you’re with Ash; Casey, go with Jacob; Ben, you’ll be with Parker; Matt, you line up with Dillon; and Jake will be staying with me.” The ‘older brothers’ fanned out and went to their respective pledge, the shorter, scrawnier men feeling dwarfed by their larger counterparts. With that Mike led the double column out of the rec room and to that dark stairwell. He took the group down, the stairs darker and darker, lit by electric candles on the rails. Jake could swear he heard a soft whirring in the stairwell, perhaps even the low hum of a bass. At the bottom of the stairwell they proceeded forward down another short hallway. As they did Jake saw the virtues listed on either side of the wall in a bronze plaque. They really took their shit seriously here. It slowly crept up on him with the candles and the dark stairs but came more and more to a head with all of this ritual stuff that Jake started to feel like he was being inducted into a cult rather than just some fraternity. They reached the end of the hall and Mike opened the door. Inside stood not the brothers they had just seen, but a series of chairs in a circle and a large television screen in front of each, like the light over a dentist’s chair. The room was otherwise empty. What was going on here? “Okay, each pledge take a seat in a chair and we’ll begin from there,” Mike ordered, breaking up the low hum with his rumbling voice. None of the pledges seemed sure about making their way forward until one by one the frat brothers with them took a hand and shepherded them to a chair. Mike did the same, gently grabbing Jake’s hand and walking him to a chair along the left wall. Jake took a seat in the chair and looked around. The wall across from him was dark blue in the low light of the room, unable to tell if it was actually blue or the color being changed by the soft yellow glow of the candles. Sharp clicks erupted around the room, gasps coming in a wave until it reached Jake. Steel bands clasped over his wrists, ankles, and waist in the chair. A hand pulled him back to rest his head in the tall chair as one was pulled over his neck like a seatbelt. Jake could hear some of the others protest and ask what was happening when the speaker came on. “Welcome,” Keylan’s voice stated, “to your induction ceremony.” A robotic voice then rang throughout the room “Brothers, attention!” Jake watched as Mike went stiff, standing in front of him like a soldier, arms at his sides as best as he could reach with his wide back and shoulders. Jake stayed quiet, unsure what this meant as the other pledges in the room started to wig out a little. “Brothers, disarm!” The robotic voice rang out again right before Keylan began speaking once more. “We are glad for you to join our ranks today, not as normal people, but as fellow brothers.” Mike began to strip, taking his shirt off, popping the buttons and tearing sleeves in his haste to get undressed. “Our inductions are much simpler than other fraternities, no arbitrary amount of tasks that you have to do, no complicated rules to follow, but rather just to listen and follow instructions.” Jake could hear the others wigging out a little, the sound of the metal chairs creaking as a couple tried to get out of them. “We’re going to take this time to help you calm down, to just relax,” Keylan said. Rather than the robotic voice again, Keylan continued, “Brothers, put the screens in position.” Mike, and presumably the other men, stepped forward to their pledges, lowering the monitor from above to rest right in the respective pledge’s face. The monitor turned on. First there was static, then there was a noise coming from nearby. Mike slid a pair of headphones over Jake’s ears. In the static of the monitor, Jake could see Mike. Those warm caramel eyes were blank, the face drained of emotion. He looked zombified. His eyes were even glazed over. The world around Jake deafened as the headphones came over his head, only able to hear something similar to that low hum in the hallway as a group of baritones and bassists rumbled in his ear. “One of us, become one of us, become one of us,” he could distinctly hear, but there was a jumble of voices as well saying something about growing and power and intelligence. He couldn’t focus on it for the adrenaline surging through his system. Keylan’s voice came into the headphones this time, providing an intimate whisper. “Don’t worry, just look ahead. Just stare at the screen,” it reassured Jake. Not like Jake had much of an option, the screen was so close to his face the only thing he couldn’t see was the black box of the dark room around it. The screen clicked to a dark blue and black, ribbons spiraling out of the center of it. A hypnosis spiral? What the fuck? “Just relax,” Keylan continued, “Just relax and slowly give in.” Jake could feel his body relax a little. Was it him? Was it Keylan’s soothing voice? Two eyes came on the screen. He recognized them immediately as Keylan’s. He slowly felt his brain going numb again. “Grow to your biggest extent, Increase your power, Gain your intelligence,” the voices mumbled in his ear as he began to focus more. He felt himself melting, those eyes boring into him. It felt like the world around him was going away. “Breathe in,” Keylan ordered. Jake breathed in. “And out,” he stated after. Jake breathed out. “In… out… in… out…” It continued. Jake could feel his body slowly relaxing more and more as he just breathed. “You can feel it starting in your hands and feet,” Keylan progressed, the repetition of breathing orders echoing in his ears. “With each breath in, you feel it climb higher, up your arms and legs. With each breath out you feel it relax your limbs. In and you feel it go to your shoulders and hips, out and you feel it make them feel like lead.” Jake tried to move but found he couldn’t move either arms or legs, the limbs completely useless, weighed down as though they were made of stone. “In and it goes to your back, going up your stomach, out and you feel them relax further. In and it goes around your chest, out and you can feel everything below your neck relaxing.” He felt it pulling him down, even. Good thing he was shackled so he wouldn’t be able to just slip out of the chair… “In… it goes up your neck, out… it makes your head heavy. In… it washes over your face… out… it makes your entire body numb…” And Jake could feel it… or rather not feel it, he could only stare forward, breathing in the stale air of the room, breathing out hot breath as he felt compelled to listen further. “In and your tongue dries up, taste going with it… Out and your scent goes away, breathing out any conscious thought… In and your eyes start to dim, the world around you fading as you can only stare into my eyes…Out and your hearing fades, only able to hear me deep within your mind.” Jake sat there, staring blankly at the screen. He swore he saw Mike stepping forward, taking away the screen… but then why was it still there? Why was it still there in front of him? He thought there was something happening outside of his headphones but the voice just kept playing. “Now, we’re going to take a journey into your mind… into your mind and make everything better. Take you down and down, deep into your conscious mind and thoughts to help you integrate into our fraternity better. As you stare into the spiral between my eyes, you feel your body start to travel there, travel deeper and deeper into that spiraling void. You walk towards it, and with each step we work deeper and deeper into your mind. At the count of zero you will be completely in trance and every step that way will make you more and more deeply integrated into your brotherhood. “Five, going down and down, deeper and deeper… “Four, just letting go, letting your mind wander freely as you go down this hall… “Three, deeper and deeper, so relaxed and comfortable… “Two, so deep now, conscious mind drifting away… “One, nearly there, nearly under, subconscious mind accessible… “Zero, completely under, completely in trance…” The next thing that Jake knew he was standing in a spiraling hallway. He had never gone under hypnosis before and the feeling was foreign to him. It was like a lucid dream. Between how fast he was put under and how effectively, it made him feel like he was somewhere between reality and a dream world. All around him blue and black stripes spiraled, both in front of him and behind him. Mike slowly unshackled the pledge, having already removed the monitor from vision. He himself was in a kind of trance but knew what was going on where some of his fellow older brothers did not. Jake was transitioning well, more than willing it seemed to want to experience hypnosis, not everyone could say that. A couple of the initiates had trouble going under. More than likely they wouldn’t be long for the frat although they wouldn’t remember the night’s events. Jake and a couple of the others had taken very well, though, and they would be moved on into the frat if they took the hypnosis very well. Ash and Dillon on either side of him started unbuckling their pledges too and he knew it was time to move on. He tilted Jake back, the chair becoming more like a slab for a mad scientist as opposed to the chair that it was. Mike then opened the legs, spreading the bottom of that chair and the legs attached to it out. Even in his hypnotic stupor he could hear Jake moan as Mike removed Jake’s pants. He unbuttoned that shirt and slid it off of Jake’s arms but allowed it to rest under him. Next came the underwear. Jake wasn’t much to look at, it turned out: the balls were nice and plump but the cock was a little embarrassing. Nothing that a couple of treatments wouldn’t fix. Mike looked up as a thin hose descended from above. He took it and guided it to Jake’s mouth, the smaller man groaning as he blankly stared upward. Smaller for now, at least. “Brothers, fuck!” The voice ordered and Mike felt himself propelled forward. He was already hard, he didn’t need a command for that. Being with his brothers was more than enough to stoke that flame, but being property of the fraternity he couldn’t fuck without permission until he graduated. Then he would become an alumnus brother, a frat daddy as they called them. But for now he was forced to obey. He slid his cock into his pledge. He could see Ash and Dillon do the same while the others stood in front of their pledges. Not everyone would be fucked, they weren’t animals, only the ones who would normally consent were fucked, only those that would not resist joining the frat, and what’s more you couldn’t even apply to the fraternity until you were over eighteen. He felt Jake shiver and moan out, his spiraling eyes staring into the void overhead. Not even he could remember everything from his own induction, he just remembered feeling sore afterward, thinking about how he could glorify his brothers and his fraternity. He grunted as he fucked the younger man, sliding his dick in and out of that tight virgin ring. Mike and Jake had been texting back and forth over the past couple of days. Jake had come out to Mike, something the younger man was too scared to do to his parents, and Mike opened up to Jake. Jake hadn’t known it yet but the induction process had already been underway. Mike liked Jake a lot and as more than just a person; there had been lots of spicy messages between them, ones that Mike couldn’t address with himself due to certain restrictions. Now, however, it was time to let all that out. He let that hole milk his cock, moaning and grunting like a beast as he did. He watched Jake’s cock throb and leak, pouring pre into his slightly out-of-shape belly. Jake just moaned and groaned around the tube, unable to do anything. The first time was probably the worst time as the pledge had to be completely under, unable to get into the act with the top, but regardless Mike pushed on, huffing as his breathing quickened. He could feel sweat dripping down his chest, slowly matting his hair to his chest. Once he had been like Jake. He wanted to make Jake something to be proud of too. That’s when the fluid started to come down. It pumped down the tube slowly, not a lot of it, not enough to choke anyone if it was out of place, but Mike’s was right on. He watched as Jake groaned more, his body slowly puffing up in the stomach with each pulse of the substance before shrinking back down between batches. He stared as Jake’s muscles started to inflate slowly, bulking up. That pudgy stomach flattening with the next dose and abs mounding in it, his chest starting to push forward. Even his shoulders widened out and bulked up with more mass. Jake wouldn’t notice it this time until the session was over. It would take a few more doses to bring him close to Mike’s size, but that’s alright as Jake seemed to have good, receptive genes. Mike pumped his dick in and out harder before taking it long and slow, making Jake’s spiraling eyes drift back into Jake’s head. Arms stretched longer, and so did the legs, the spine grew taller as the shoulders widened. Mike watched with lust as the musculature of the still-shorter man became more defined. He could feel himself getting closer as he held those bulking thighs and felt the ass close around his torturously slow thrusts. He stared at Jake’s face, subtle traces of increased masculinity started to take hold. He watched that jawline become sharper, a beard grow in as fur began to mound on Jake’s chest. He felt that asshole twitch as the muscles deep within the pledge became stronger. Soon it was too much, the twitching of the hole and the sight of another man growing in front of him was too much for Mike. Mike grunted and slammed hard. He roared and came into his pledge as the other brothers participating did the same. They were a unit and so they came together. Those who could not participate just stood there, bound to get their relief with others later. As for Mike he breathed heavily as he dripped sweat, his fluids mingling with his pledge’s. “Brothers, at ease!” The robotic voice came through. Mike felt his knees wanting to give way as that tube retreated into the ceiling above. How long had he been fucking? Had he really been going that hard? Keylan came on the speaker and told each of them to remove the pledge’s headphones, except for the two who weren’t adequate for the frat. The two would not consent and the frat would not force them. Ash, Dillon, and Mike removed the headsets even as their legs shook from weeks worth of edging finally released. They pulled up their new brothers and started to take them up even before Keylan had said to do so. The other two would stay and get brainwashed. As he had thought before, they wouldn’t join so they wouldn’t remember anything. As for the three taking their new brothers away, they had been given the outro beforehand, able to bring them up and into a brand new state of mind. It only seemed to last for a few minutes before he found himself being awakened again. There was a soft cloud under him now, no longer standing in a hallway or on a metal chair. He could feel the world coming back around him, the spiral disappearing as he watched it go up into the sky above his cloud. The cloud became more real, more like a mattress. And why did his ass hurt so good? “Four, waking up gently, easily, coming back to reality.” What had happened? What was going on? “Five, completely awake and alert again.” Jake opened his eyes to find himself on a bed, Mike and he in a bed together, snuggling by the moonlight. Mike’s chest was in his face, the other man’s head over his. Jake couldn’t understand why but he felt tired, exhausted, but also powerful and full of vigor. He looked down at his chest, his arms. What the fuck? He thought as he saw the protruding pecs and his bulging biceps while his hands held onto his big brother’s chest. “Welcome back,” Mike rumbled. “Wh-what…? What happened?” Jake asked, still drowsy from his awakening. “Welcome to the frat, bro.” Mike said, that handsome face grinning in the moonlight.
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