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  1. Hey, y'all! It's been a while since I've written a story on this site. I miss writing, so, here is the thing: Gimme a picture of a nice, buff guy, or a morphed up guy, or something, and I'll write a story for the picture! It'll be a short story, but I'll do it! Cause I feel like it would be fun! So, don't hesitate to share!
  2. Tranquilos, no voy a abandonar la otra historia, sino que el cuerpo me pedía una historia así para ayer xb. Está historia no va a tener encuesta aunque se agradece si dejan comentarios. Espero que les guste porque yo estaba urgente de una historia de cambio de rol más aya de músculos que si habrá (;3) solo esperen. Seguiré con esta historia cuando acabé [El resurgir de una leyenda] con poco tiempo de espera entre cada nuevo capítulo, espero ver bastantes comentarios de como se desarrollará está historia. Capitulo 1: una nueva vida Un 7 de noviembre del 2022, la pandemia se está controlando y ya muchos no se preocupan del virus, los negocios van abriendo y lss compañías vuelven a necesitar contratar mano de obra. Una de esas compañías era Dyhigh-tech una empresa que se dedica al desarrollo, diseño y construcción de nuevas tegnologias; ahí trabaja uno de nuestros protagonistas, Luis Javier García, o solo Javier para abreviar. Él era un hombre de finanzas, siempre sentado en el computador registrando las ganancias y perdida de la empresa, a dónde se dirige el dinero y así, pero no era de importancia ahora y menos en un puesto tan abajo en gestionar los sueldos de los empleados del almacén, la vida de Javier era aburrida y en decadencia, sus años de gloria como deportista acabaron cuando la futura esposa y madre de su hijo toca su puerta con un test de embarazo a sus 17 años de ambos, desde ahí hasta sus ya 35 años su vida se está yendo al desagüe, su hijo adolecente no le respeta y siempre se reviere a su padre como cerdo fracasado, aunque su esposa Nancy siempre está corrigiendo a su hijo Gabriel, ella no podía justificarlo mucho pues era verdad que a Javier lo podías disfrazar de cerdo y le quedaría el papel, siendo un hombre de pocos modales, peludo, algo descuidado y sobretodo con sobrepeso que mantenía comiendo como un cerdo. A Javier no le preocupaba mucho su futuro, estaba cómodo en un empleo que no requiere tanto esfuerzo y tener una esposa que se a conservado muy bien le sube un poco el ego, pero eso cambio con la pandemia y ahora descubrió lo alejado que estaba de si familia y que ya no se entendían como antes, antes de terminar el 2021 su esposa Nancy le dió el m documento y le pido directo sin dudar que quiere el divorcio, él extendió todo lo posible pero tenía un ultimátum para antes de la primavera del 2022. Para el colmo la compañía dónde trabaja aún siguen recortando personal y él está casi en la mira así que tiene que salir de su zona de confort y empezar a trabajar de más. Lo de su hijo ya era un caso perdido, casi que él prefería pasar el tiempo con el padre de su mejor amigo que con él. Pero las cosas iban a cambiar con la llegada de un pariente que busca una oportunidad en la ciudad, su sobrino Alexander hijo de su hermana mayor, venía a la ciudad a buscar empleo, Alexander no pudo estudiar en la universidad por falta de dinero aunque sabía que podría sacarle provecho, no aplicó para una beca por su historial académico y de mala conducta, si el chico era alguien intenso que no querías molestar, podrá parecer un alto flacucho pero sabía dar una buena pelea sin importar que le superes por varios centímetros y peso, él era rápido y no dudaba en lo que hacía. Pero ya esos tiempos de institutos quedaron atrás y el joven está dispuesto a conseguir empleo, su madre convenció a su tío Javier para que le consiga algún trabajo y también hospitalidad en la gran ciudad, Alexander no estaba cómodo con la idea, no por su tío sino por su primo Gabriel que desde niños el pequeño Gabriel era el más fastidioso e inquieto de la familia. Alexander llegó un 10 de enero a la casa de Javier quien ya lo esperaba con una habitación de huéspedes lista para él aunque demasiado cerca de la habitación de Gabriel, para suerte de Alexander el pequeño Gabriel ya se había calmado un poco y tenía videojuegos para entretenerse el mismo. Nuestro Alexander aceptó la oferta de empleo que pudo darle su tío Javier, no es que fuera realmente algo que le daría una independencia económica pero gracias al alojamiento puede ahorrar para algo más y mientras gana experiencias buscar un mejor empleo, ¿Que cuál fue el empleo? Boguedista de la misma compañía de Javier, así también se ahorra el viaje. Paso una semana y se podría decir que Alexander se está empezando a adaptar a su nueva vida en la ciudad, el trabajo era pesado si pero le daba el tiempo para al menos también intentar hacer vida, conocer sus alrededores, no era mala la experiencia fuera del trabajo y la casa de Javier, la cosa cambia dentro. Pasando una semana con la familia de su tío es imposible no enterarse de los problemas más evidentes, trató de no involucrar se pero el viaje al trabajo casi atrapado en el tráfico, dos hombres en un auto y claramente la incomodidad del silencio, era preferible hablar de algo aunque sea de los problemas en casa y del fútbol que la verdad ninguno de los dos veía pero nunca se lo dijeron al otro. Parecía que iba a ser otro viernes más en la vida de ambos pero estaban completamente equivocados, hoy tocaba unas horas extra, ambos claramente no estaban felices con ello pero ¿qué podían hacer realmente? Alexander estaba moviendo equipo de la bodega a uno de los laboratorios de las plantas bajas, algo ya parte de la rutina de mover aparatos y cosas que no entendía bien del todo, la cosa es que tuvo un pequeño descuido con una caja la cual se cayó de sus manos en un tropiezo y las piezas salieron volando por todas las direcciones, una de esas piezas llegó a impactar contra una máquina extraña la cual ahora estaba dañada por una pieza que llegó a atravesar el tablero de control de alguna manera. El joven pudo limpiar el desastre pero no sabía que hacer con esa máquina, algo apanicado por pensar que iba a perder su empleo y tener que volver al pequeño pueblo con su madre, una idea se pasó por su mente, Javier, él posiblemente sabrá que hacer tenía la esperanza que así fuera. Javier llegó con Alexander y vió claramente cuál era el problema desde que entró al laboratorio, estuvieron discutiendo que hacer unos minutos hasta que simplemente llegaron a la conclusión de que al menos no dejen ese fierro clavado ahí y que ya alguien más se de cuenta del daño. Los dos empezaron a hacer fuerza para sacar la pieza de metal que estaba más atascada ee lo que pensaban, fue en un descuido que activaron la máquina y no solo eso sino que estaban en la mira del rayo que salió antes de que lograrán quitar la pieza. Ellos solo vieron casi que un flash de luz azul que los cegó momentáneamente, la cosa es que no sabían es que esa máquina no era una cámara muy costosa, sino un cambiador de mentes y que sin querer ellos dos cambiaron de cuerpo. Alexander fue el primero en despertarse, se sentía pesado, cansado y curiosamente con hambre, estaba algo sudado y sus pies lo estaban matando, él pudo reconocer a alguien más en el suelo, fue rápido pero un escalofrío recorrió su cuerpo cuando se dió cuenta de qué era su cuerpo ahí tirado, levanto lentamente sus manos las cuales ya no eran esas manos que vieron varias peleas y con unas pocas venas marcadas, ahora eran manos grandes y gruesas pero más que nada gordas y con mucho vello que recorría desde laano hasta casi sus hombros. Corrió a un tanque metálico que funcionaba como espejo y ahí se vio mejor, tenía el pelo negro, una barba descuidada pero abundante, un casi inexistente cuello, hombros flácidos y brazos regordetes, pechos de hombre un poco colgantes, una gran barriga semi cervecera, una cadera y piernas demasiado anchas que no cabría bien en un asiento, además de llevar unos zapatos que se sentían 2 tallas más pequeños de lo que deberían, era su Tío Javier, mejor dicho él tenía el cuerpo de su tío Javier. El siguiente en despertarse fue el mismo Javier quién se extraño de verse a si mismo de espaldas, hizo caso lo mismo, miro sus manos flacas de dedos largos, venas marcadas y parecia que tenía los nudillos endurecidos, se levantó y fue al lado de su cuerpo y se vio a si mismo también, un joven alto para su anterior estatura de 1.75 m ahora tiene 1.85 m, era flaco pero no sé sentía para nada débil, su pelo ahora era castaño y no tenía mi un pelo más aya de su cabeza, podía ver si piel un poco más bronceada por dónde se asomaban de la ropa ajustada que hacía notar un poco su pecho y su cintura pequeña, unas piernas largas que terminaban en tenis sin plataforma algo grandes pero de la talla adecuada. — ¿Que fue lo que pasó? ¿Por qué estoy en tu cuerpo? — Dijo Javier a Alexander que aún estaba aturdido e incrédulo por lo que veía. — No… no lo sé. ¿Que vamos hacer ahora? ¡¿Que le diremos a tu familia?! — Expresó con preocupación y enojo Alexander. — Mira, no tengo ni la más remota idea que pasó, pero no debemos decirle a nadie, si se enteran de ésto sólo va a empeorar las cosas, ya tengo demasiadas preocupaciones como para lidiar con esto. — ¡¿Qué?! ¿Acaso quieres callarte y pretender que nada paso? — Toma de la camisa de Javier que sería su antigua camisa y lo pone contra ese mismo tanque. — ¿Se te ocurre forma de justificar ésto a alguien? Si es así te escucho, sino, no nos queda de otra que estar así y averiguar cómo volver a cambiar. Alex se queda callado un momento pensando, luego recuerda la máquina pero para su desgracia y por más que intentara, ya no encendía, al fin ese daño del fierro cobro factura y quemó los circuitos internos al usar la máquina. — No… ¡No! No puedes hacerme esto… ¡No!.... — Empieza a golpear un poco la máquina. — Hey ¡Hey! Para, no la destroces más de lo que ya está, tenemos que irnos de aquí. Aún enojado pero claramente aún cuerdo solo es un último golpe y cierra su puño con fuerza antes de sólo acentir e ir con Javier al auto. Ya en el auto se sentaron ambos adelante, solo que Javier en el cuerpo de Alex se fue al lado del conductor y Alex en el cuerpo de Javier en el del copiloto. — Mira, tanto tú cómo yo está claro que no queremos esto, ya tengo problemas en mi matrimonio, mi hijo me odia, mi empelo está en riesgo y no quiero preocuparme ahora por ésto. Pero no podemos hacer nada por ahora… — Dijo Javier apoyándose contra el respaldo y mirando al techo del coche. — Se que no se puede hacer nada… pero ¡Mierda! No quiero esta vida, lo siento pero realmente tenía planes, quería un trabajo que pagara bien pero me deje tiempo para… cosas. ¿Cómo voy a manejar tu vida? — preguntó Alexander. — Te ayudaré con éso, a manejar mi empleo y no te preocupes por mi familia, mi esposa se quiere divorciarse y mi hijo no me obedece por más que le digo que haga las cosas, por lo menos céntrate en el trabajo, porque si me corren no sé cómo podré mantenerte en casa. — más bien, que no me corran para mantenerte a ti en casa… maldición, esto va a ser un desastre. — Nos empezaremos a llamar con el nombre del otro, tú serás Javier y yo seré Alexander, trataremos de usarlos incluso cuando hablemos sobre este asunto de cambio de cuerpos, ¿Qué dices? Javier.— le extiende su mano como si se fueran a conocer por primera vez. — Pues… no hay realmente otra alternativa, Alex. — le da un apretón de manos y ambos aceptan de momento intentar vivir la vida del otro. Pero mi momento como narrador a terminado, es hora de que ellos mismos describan sus experiencias en los próximos capitulos, la nueva situación que vino a cambiar sus vidas literalmente.
  3. Buenas, para los que no le conocen, ya llevo un rato en esta comunidad, trate de publicar antes pero no podía seguir con esa historia, pero quería contar más, dejaré aparte la primera historia que hice, quizás después de la retome, quizás no . Otra cosa que aclarar es que, está historia va a tomar en cuenta que quieren que pase en el siguiente capítulo, elegirán alguna de lss ideas que propongan y también pueden comentar algunas que les gustaría ver. Está historia está totalmente en español, si alguien quiere traducirla puede hacerlo. Capítulo 1 tesoros del ayer. Mi nombre es Michel, tengo 19 años, soy un estudiante universitario de intercambio del otro lado del país, vivo en un departamento con mi roomy Carl, ambos vamos a la misma universidad pero diferentes carreras, el va a medicina y yo voy a nutricionista, amo los deportes y el cuidado del cuerpo, aunque no es que haya logrado destacar del todo en alguno, más bien era de la gestión de tiempos y estrategias, así que quería llegar a ser entrenador, ¿Cuál deporte? Uno de boxeo, mi abuelo era antes un luchador, y en casa siempre había recortes de periódico y algunos trofeos de su carrera como luchador, una parte de mi quería llegar a ser como él, yo estando en el ring pero mi madre nunca me lo perdonaría, aunque eso nunca me impidió intentarlo alguna que otra vez a escondidas. Cuándo me da tiempo la universidad, voy al gimnasio de mi localidad, uno de los más viejos y reconocidos de la ciudad, Empire of steel (el imperio de acero). Muchas leyendas se forjaron ahí dentro, o eso dice su folleto de entrada, la verdad es que el lugar se siente viejo, atrapado en la década de los años 90 pero está en buenas condiciones. No llevo tanto en el gym, apenas voy para mí segundo mes aquí, así que no es que tenga la mejor condición, soy peso ligero aún, pero al menos puedo presumir que tengo el estómago marcado. Mis estadísticas hijo: Altura: 1,75 m (5,7 pies) Peso: 70 kg (154 libras) Masa corporal grasa: 10% Tez: delgada No era nada sorprendente, mi metabolismo es muy rápido así que me cuesta subir peso, aunque estoy aprendiendo a como subirlo con mis clases, quiero estar totalmente seguro en lo que estoy haciendo antes de meterme a una dieta y arruinar mi progreso sin querer. E tratado de hacer que Carl se una al gym, no para que se vea espectacular sino que se cuide, él es un genio pero con malos hábitos y lo sabe, es un poco más alto que yo y aunque no come mucha comida chatarra es muy sedentario así que tiene grasa acumulada. Pero aún así si tengo a alguien que me acompañe en el gym, es mi guía aquí desde que me uní, David, o como es conocido, el joven Hércules, un tipo bastante guapo, de buena mandíbula con barba corta, unos hermosos ojos verdes y su cabello castaño en punta, tiene mi misma edad pero es mucho más grande que yo, no solo con su altura de 1.85 m (6.1 ft) sino también de peso, él ya es semi pesado y cerca de llegar al pesado, con unos buenos 85 kilos (187 libras) de músculo, también quizás algo de grasa,no tiene los abdominales tan marcados pero no puedes discutir con sus brazos que parece que tiene una pelota debajo de su piel, venas gruesas que registran todo su brazo hasta los dedos de las manos, un gran pecho amplio el cual se nota que se depila seguido para que se aprecie las fibras musculares cuando levante la barra de 118 kilos (260 libras) su era lo más increíble que tiene, podría cargarme con facilidad si él lo quisiera, y hacer peso muerto conmigo; él también trabaja las piernas, siempre usando shorts cortos para mostrar sus piernas gruesas tan anchas y bastante bien marcadas que me recordaba a un tronco de un árbol mediano, fuerte y que solo crecerá para ser más grande e imponente, eso era lo que se esperaba de David, que llegó a ser un culturista de renombre pero él no está tan interesado,más bien lo atribuye más a algo genético para estar así que realmente esforzarse. Lo envidio y admiro en secreto. Pero basta de él, debo concentrarme en mi rutina la cuál era el pecho el día de hoy, estaba levantando unos 59 kg (130 lb) no era mucho pero era un progreso bastante bueno, antes y ni podía levantar la barra, si que estoy feliz por ello. Mientras iba terminando con algo de cardio en la máquina de correr, siempre me preguntaba, qué personas habrán recorrido estos pasillos, correr sobre estás máquinas, levantar los pesos más pesados, y llevar en alto el nombre del gimnasio que los llevaron hasta su máximo potencial ; claro que estaban colgadas las fotos de esas leyendas en el mural de la fama al entrar al gimnasio, pero a lo que me refiero es a sus historias, que tanto trabajo les tomó llegar hasta la cima. De cualquier modo estaba internet para ello y ya también era hora de irme,eran las 9 de la noche y tenía que dormir temprano para los exámenes de mañana, fui a las regaderas y estuve ahí un poco más de lo normal, tenía asuntos pendientes ahí abajo después de ver cuerpos tan trabajados casi toda la tarde, cuerpos esculpidos en mármol por Miguel Ángel, un arte viviente creciente y con lo mejor de todo, que se pueda tocar y llevar a casa. Una vez liberado de ese deseo, salí y me vestí con el cambio de mi casillero número 22, podría decir que ésto era de lo más antiguo del local, los casilleros, estaban ya bastante desgastados, les faltaban algo de pintura y algunas partes estaban oxidadas , varios clientes se quejaron y quisieron cambiarlos pero el antiguo dueño siempre tenía excusas para no mover ni un dedo por ello.tenía asuntos ahí abajo después de ver cuerpos tan trabajados casi toda la tarde cuerpos, esculpidos en mármol por Miguel Ángel, un arte viviente creciente y con lo mejor de todo, que se puede tocar y llevar a casa. Una vez liberado de ese deseo, salí y me vestí con el cambio de mi casillero número 22, podría decir que ésto era de lo más antiguo del local, los casilleros, estaban ya bastante desgastados, les faltaban algo de pintura y algunas partes estaban oxidadas , varios clientes se quejaron y quisieron cambiarlos pero el antiguo dueño siempre tenía excusas para no mover ni un dedo por ello. tenía asuntos ahí abajo después de ver cuerpos tan trabajados casi toda la tarde cuerpos, esculpidos en mármol por Miguel Ángel, un arte viviente creciente y con lo mejor de todo, que se puede tocar y llevar a casa.Una vez liberado de ese deseo, salí y me vestí con el cambio de mi casillero número 22, podría decir que ésto era de lo más antiguo del local, los casilleros, estaban ya bastante desgastados, les faltaban algo de pintura y algunas partes estaban oxidadas , varios clientes se quejaron y quisieron cambiarlos pero el antiguo dueño siempre tenía excusas para no mover ni un dedo por ello. — ¡Oye, Michel! ¿Qué haces aquí tan tarde todavía? — Dijo David semi desnudo, apenas con una toalla en la cintura y acercándose a mí, había olvidado que su casillero está cerca del mío, el número 47. — Oh… hola, David, yo sólo… quería esforzarme más este día, ya sabes, poder conocer mis límites y expandirlos, como tú siempre dices. — le contesté con algo de vergüenza en el tono aunque seguía teniendome como si no me importara. — Pero bueno, mira que tenemos aquí, ¡un futuro luchador que quiere llegar lejos! Eso campeón, da tu mejor esfuerzo. — me toma del cuello con su brazo para poder despeinar mi cabello aún mojado. Él siempre es así, bastante amigable, activo y que no conoce el espacio personal, aunque no me importaba mucho estar tan cerca de él. — ¡Oye, basta! Ya me había peinado. —me quejé aunque riendo un poco, disfrutó realmente de su compañía, como el hermano mayor que nunca tuve. — Solo me alegra que estés dando lo mejor de ti mismo. Recuerdo que cuando llegaste eras un insecto palo andante, ahora ya se puede ver carne debajo de esa piel. — Me suelta y prosigue con lo suyo, abriendo su casillero y comenzando con su desodorante de menta y romero, típico de él, casi que ya son olores característicos de David. Mientras tanto voy dando unos tacos de ojo de vez en cuando, para ver cómo es que luchar para ponerse su playera blanca intencionalmente de una talla más pequeña de la que debería de llevar. — Oye, ¿quieres que te ayude? Parece que ahora sí vas a tener que cambiar tu armario por unas tallas más grandes. — Naaa, yo puedo, quiero llegar al punto dónde se desgarre con solo hacer flexiones, quizás una semana más y no tendré cambio para salir del gimnasio decentemente. Me sonrojé con el pensamiento de solo imaginar esa escena de verlo aún más grande y notar como su ropa se va desgarrando frente a mí. Por suerte él parecía tener prisa, se vistió rápido y se despidió de mí a su manera, un choque de puños y un abrazo fuerte para presumir fuerza, aunque… solo conmigo hace eso. Ya casi terminaba con mis cosas, solo faltaba luchar con el casillero para que cerrase, de que no te iban a poder robar nada podía casi confirmar eso, algunass estaban ya oxidadas o algunas llaves perdidas, ese era el caso incluso del casillero de al lado , el casillero 23. Ese casillero no se a abierto en años, según las leyendas y rumores del gym, le pertenecía a un culturista de principios de los 2000, Amari Stone, un culturista que estuvo a punto de ganar el Mr Olympia dos veces , y en las dos quedando en segundo lugar, era un hombre con casi el doble de ancho de una persona, pesando el triple y aunque no era tan alto, definitivamente tampoco era bajo, medía 1,82 m (6 ft). Su carrera parecía que iba por gran camino, pero a sus 37 años tuvo problemas cardíacos por un soplo en el corazón no diagnosticado.Y murio a sus 38, Iba saliendo del local, pasando por el muro de la fama, de los que llegaron a llevar en grande el nombre del gym, y ahí estaba la foto del legendario Amari Stone, compitiendo en el Mr Olympia del 2002. Me acerqué para verlo mejor en la foto, aunque no sabía bien sus estadísticas, diría que fácilmente pesaba 130 kg (287 lb) estaba claramente definida, sus músculos eran grandes si, pero en buena proporción, aunque a él siempre le gustaba resaltar pecho y brazos, además de sus piernas . Muy parecido a David… en ese sentido, quizás si él se interesará llegaría tan lejos como Amari. Toque un poco la foto, recordando los dedos por el cuerpo de Amari, imaginando cómo se sentiría un cuerpo así de trabajado. Y cuando ya iba a irme, que escucho que algo se cae y se rompe, temía lo peor, me giré y ahí en el suelo estaba el marco de fotos roto. Trate de rápido recoger los fragmentos de vidrio y la foto antes de que viniera el hijo del dueño, aunque no era severo como su padre, tampoco es que me llevara muy bien con él, era un idiota que abusaba de esteroides y acosaba algunas chicas, por suerte ahora mismo quizás y está en privado con una en el baño.Así que solo iba a poner la foto en el escritorio y tirar el marco, pero entre los trozos de vidrio y la foto, estaba un pedazo de metal que no correspondía con el marco de fotos, lo tome con cuidado y al levantarlo ví que era una llave con el número 23 en ella, no lo pensé mucho, ------------------------------------- ¿Qué les gustaría que haya en el casillero número 23? -Esteroides especiales. -Algo para pedir deseos. -Algo para robar músculos. -Ropa usada. Los leo quiero que sea una historia larga y con la participación de la gente.
  4. Lexfan

    Lex's Fulfillment

    I thought I would use the opportunity of a new forum to revise a story I had on the old site - try not to write myself into a corner this time. His anger was now the only emotion he recognized. Lex had devoted his energy and genius night and day for almost twenty years to his mission to vanquish the Kryptonian, but what had it accomplished? Lex now found himself at 38, having spent most of his adult life behind bars or, as now, a fugitive, working secretly on inventions and plots that one after the other had failed to overcome his enemy. All other pursuits in life had loss their purpose – wealth held no pleasure, it came too easily, and power over lesser men seemed merely an aggravation. Lex had long since discarded the emotional bonds of friendship or any other form of intimacy with others. The only living being who mattered to him was the alien that he had failed to destroy. Lex had come to realize that only one form of conquest could bring the satisfaction he sought. He must humiliate and destroy his nemesis personally, with his own hands if possible. To that end, Lex’s research revolved around projects aimed at making his opponent vulnerable by draining the alien's superhuman energies. Although attempts to accomplish the same goal had been tried and failed before, Lex believed he had reached the key. He hypothesized that the Kryptonian’s atomic structure varied from natives of this world both by atomic density and structure, but that density and structure could be altered by radiation at the appropriate vibration, and that properly calibrated such vibrating radiation would leave a man who was “super” no more. It would not be enough, however, to simply render his opponent mortal and then shoot him. Such an easy death would not be personal enough for Lex. He lay awake at night dreaming of crushing the life out of his foe, to see that worshipped face bruised and bloody, and to hear that once deep and confident voice begging him for mercy that would not be shown. Lex spent nearly every waking hour not engaged in his radiation research conditioning his body and training in martial arts that Lex would use to annihilate his enemy once the alien's advantages were eliminated. Lex hired a team of trained sparring partners. Although he left his first few training sessions bleeding and bruised, within weeks Lex found he had to hold himself back to avoid injuring his opponents. But it felt so good to hear the ones with dark curly hair beg for mercy. Eight months after having started work to turn his theory into a device that he could use against his opponent, Lex had hit a seemingly insurmountable obstacle. He had the means to transmit a blast that could alter its target’s atomic structure, but it was useless unless properly calibrated. To accomplish that would require knowledge of the atomic structure at issue. Just when Lex felt stymied, fate threw a twist in his path that opened a course he had never considered. As the deadly effect of Kryptonite on Krypton’s sole survivor became increasingly well known, authorities around the world had worked to gather the substance and place it beyond the reach of those who would harm Earth’s protector. However, a black market of unconfiscated material survived, and invariably pictures of the samples for sale made their way to Lex. Reviewing a picture of one such sample, Lex’s eyes did a double take. He saw in the sample a pattern inconsistent with the rest of the rock. Lex knew he had to have that sample, regardless of the extortionate terms on which it was offered. Once obtained, Lex’s suspiscions were confirmed. He unearthed a remnant of organic Kryptonian material – a fossil – buried in the glowing green rock. Even in a fossilized state, Lex believed the remnant of Kryptonian life could provide the means to calibrate the shift between the atomic structure of life originating under the sun of Krypton and life originating in our solar system. Nevertheless, Lex recognized that a successful effect would likely only result from a trial and error process. However, the danger of facing his enemy’s unstoppable force if Lex’s calculations were wrong was too great a risk, and his target was unlikely to allow Lex have more than one opportunity to utilize his device. It was contemplating this issue that Lex suddenly recognized that he had approached his mission in the wrong direction. While it would be impossible to test his device on compliant samples of Kryptonian life, there was no such obstacle to testing the device in reverse upon creatures originating here – to utilize the device to increase atomic density and energy to the levels he now knew corresponded to those of life on Krypton. The sole issue would be to provide the additional energy needed for the transformation. While a shift from Kryptonian to earthly levels would have simply resulted in dissipating energy, the shift in the opposite direction would require an additional power source that could come from only one source – kryptonite. Lex set to work immediately reconfiguring his device. He calculated that he had on hand enough Kryptonite to perform tests on small subjects. His first attempts on mice ended gruesomely, with the poor rodents squealling in pain and exploding. Curiously, each attempt left the kryptonite sample utilized for power a grey stone, no longer radiating any noticeable energy. Lex determined that the root of his failures lay in the rate at which he exposed his subjects to the change. Lex drugged a small white mouse into unconsciousness and placed it in a plexiglass box underneath his device. After placing his green power source in place, Lex set the machine to release its force at the slowest rate he could reach. Hours passed without visible reaction in the comatose animal. Slowly, the animal began to stir. It came back to consciousness in a state of shock, moving slowly in its cube, then faster and faster. Suddenly, the terrified creature smashed into the wall of its cube – knocking it to the floor and cracking its walls. The animal smashed its way through the walls of its carrier, and began hurtling itself across the room, knocking over large pieces of equipment as they came in its path. Lex realized he had caused the creation of a new Kryptonian, in the form of a small white mouse. However, any pleasure in his accomplishment was outweighed by fear for the danger this small white steamroller ricocheting across his laboratory posed for his device and to him. Lex quickly grabbed and opened a small, lead-lined metal box. Inside was another piece of glowing green rock. Almost immediately, the mouse slowed in its tracks. It made squeals of pain as it rolled on its sides as Lex approached it with the box. When the animal finally lay still, Lex picked it up by the tail and dropped it inside the box with the radiant green rock. Later, as Lex studied the animal’s corpse, he fully realized the magnitude of his success. Even as a lifeless form, the animal’s reformed Kryptonian structure remained stable and indestructible. However, the experiments that had led him to this point had all but depleted his store of Kryptonite. To proceed further, he would need to obtain more, much more. Lex invested virtually all of his hidden financial resources in acquiring every ounce available in private hands. Lex considered breaking into the stockpiles held under security by various governments, but decided that it was best to avoid any strategy that might raise his enemy’s suspicions. As word spread someone was willing to pay any price, the price of the rocks escalated rapidly, but it did not matter to Lex, as he knew that eventual success would make any expense meaningless. After weeks of utilizing his criminal contacts, Lex determined it was unlikely any further samples remained for acquisition. He considered the irony that he was now personally responsible for taking out of other criminal hands all samples of his enemy’s weakness. However, he determined that he had acquired enough material for the one transformation that mattered – his. From his initial failed animal experiments, Lex realized that a mistake in his calculations would be catastrophic for him. His greatest danger was a too rapid exposure to the transformation, but he also had determined that performing it too slow might make cause the exposure to have no effect other than draining the energy from his kryptonite samples. He spent hours painstakingly calculating the rate at the transformation should occur Lex knew that to endure the pain that the process would likely entail, he would need to be in a comatose state. Lex placed himself on a stretcher underneath his device, scheduled to begin its work after the time necessary for coma inducing drugs to take effect. As Lex turned the switch to began the intravenous injection of the numbing drugs into his bloodstream, Lex realized it was a gamble at best that he would ever emerge from the darkness invading his mind. His last sights and sounds were those of his lab generating the power needed for his throw of the dice, and his last conscious sensation was a mild burning as the energy flow reached his exposed flesh. The first sensation calling Lex back to life was a cacophony of sound unlike anything Lex had ever heard. Lex breathed, only to realize that his nose filled with overpowering stench, but before Lex could try to make any sense of the odors his body cramped in pain, and he again lost consciousness. When Lex drifted back into awareness, he began to realize that the sounds that he heard were simply those of the space around him, the hum of the machine, his heart, the blood rushing through his veins, a dripping in a sink nearby, heard at level he had never before experienced. As he listened his brain sorted out the sounds, and enabled him to concentrate on them one at a time, or simply place them in the background of his thoughts. Similarly, he realized what he had smelled was his own sweat and the materials in his laboratory. He could also provide them as much or as little attention as he willed. As the pain throughout his body subsided, Lex pulled himself off the stretcher and stood on his feet. Although disoriented and exhausted, he knew immediately he was a changed man. For one thing, he could literally feel his body recovering and at the same time expanding. He looked at his hands, and knew they were actually larger than before, and he could see them gradually enlarging still. Lex attempted to walk but found it hard to maintain his balance. Lex climbed back onto the stretcher and again passed out of consciousness. After about an hour, Lex felt his internal upheaval coming to an end and again got to his feet. This time he was able to stand and walk without difficulty. The sense that he was not the man he had been was now even more pronounced. Lex turned and caught his reflection in the metal lining a wall of his laboratory. His initial shock turned to satisfied laughter as he assessed what even this crude mirror revealed. Were it not for the bald head, Lex would have thought the reflection revealed another man in the room with him. That man possessed an astonishing physique. His frame was actually now several inches taller than the 6 foot he had been for years. But more astonishing was his muscular development – which had apparently responded to the increased atomic density by expanding to its natural limits. The only person Lex could think of whose overall muscle mass and heightened development now even compared to his was his nemesis himself. Lex immediately realized that this explained what he had long wondered about his foe – how could a being for whom no object offered any real resistance have developed such a hypertrophied body. It was apparently simply the physical reflection of the energy within. As Lex assessed his own now oversized biceps, bulging chest, and tapered waist, he thought that the object of his hatred looked no longer so imposing. He would later realize th he was now several inches taller than his opponent, and was thus proportionately larger throughout his frame. Even Lex’s face has been altered by an expanse of fully developed cheek and jaw muscle tissue. Although the change in his appearance was a startling surprise, Lex needed to determine the extent of the change that would not show in a mirror. Lex approached the steel door to his laboratory that he had bolted close when he started his procedure. Lex made a fist, pulled it back, and hurtled it at the door. His hand burst through the metal door like it was made of paper. He brought his hand back through the punctured metal and looked at it. No cuts, no bruising, no sign of even an abrasion, and, most significantly, no pain. He smiled, as the extent of his success became clear. Lex reached over picked up a palm-sized radiation detector, and used it to examine the Kryptonite samples he had used to power his device. The rocks, no longer a growing green but instead a commonplace grey, no longer provided any trace of radioactive activity. Next, Lex walked across the room and pressed a button on the wall. A lead panel on the wall of his laboratory moved, revealing Lex’s last sample of untouched, glowing kryptonite. Lex felt a pain he had never experienced at his core. He fell to the floor struggling to breathe. Then the lead panel shut close again, removing the green rock from sight. He felt the pain inside him subside, and realized that this test had confirmed that for all intents and purposes, he was now a Kryptonian like his antagonist, and thus shared his vulnerabilities along with all his powers. As anxious as he was to confront his opponent on a level playing field, Lex knew it would be foolhardy to do so before he had mastered all of his new abilities, and that even after he had done so he needed to protect his greatest weapon - the element of surprise. Consequently, Lex spent weeks in secret testing and perfecting his skills. He quickly discovered that the largest barrier was convincing his mind that he could raise himself off the ground and hurtle through space, or that he could see through the walls of the buildings around him. Once he had developed the proper means of concentrating to summon these abilities, each of his powers came without effort. To keep his presence from being discovered, Lex practiced flight only late at night when he would not be seen. He found the experience exhilarating. He would hide himself behind the tails of aircraft, and follow. Lex turned over and over in his thoughts how and when "the Encounter” should take place. Lex recognized that it would only be their first and not their final encounter. Whereas one human combatant might succeed in killing another just by force, the rapid recuperative abilities that both he and his foe now shared made such a result virtually impossible. As much as he loathed his enemy, he would not be able to kill him without the use of Kryptonite. But killing his opponent was no longer Lex’s goal. He instead wanted something far more personal – to humiliate him repeatedly and publically, to force him to admit Lex's dominance, and finally drive him from his adopted home, this planet, in defeat. Lex's plan was minimal – more driven by emotion than calculation. He counted on at least the following advantages. First, the element of surprise. The enemy would not be expecting and was inexperienced in facing a combatant on an equal playing field. Second, and most importantly, Lex knew that his opponent lacked the mindset to attack without mercy, a characteristic basic to Lex’s identity. Lex trained and waited, looking for the perfect moment to fulfill his destiny.
  5. BobbysJournal

    Bobby’s Dream (A short story)

    Bobby’s Dream (A short story) Friday, late afternoon. After a long day of classes Bobby was relaxing in bed. He rested a hand behind his head while scrolling through his phone. The room was dim as the glow of his phone illuminated his face, he mindlessly scrolled until he came across a post. It was a video of a bodybuilder flexing. The angle of the camera gave a view from below. The man’s abs rippled, his hairy pecs bounced and hardened as they flexed, simultaneously grunting. “Fuck yeah man..” the bodybuilder said as he grinned, the video finished with the muscled man swollen hard biceps bulging up and down close to the camera; his wide, hard torso unable to fit in the frame. Bobby watched and felt an oozing sensation inside his sweatpants, his big boner was pulsating, and leaking pre at the sight of the bodybuilders big hard swollen muscles.. “Fuck..” Bobby said quietly to himself.. he groped his boner and thrusted his hips into his hand. Bobby lifted his shirt, and felt his hard abs, his hand went back down and dove into his briefs as he groped his throbbing cock.. Mmph, wish a huge muscle god was here right now.. damn. Bobby always used to imagine a fictional muscle character when he was horny; it would always make him erupt. It’s been a while… His name was Mr. B While slowly stroking and rubbing, Bobby reminisced about Mr. B. He imagined his green eyes, black hair, enormous bulging delts, and thick traps His minds eye guided him lower… His pecs were big, and hairy, well, big is an understatement, they were fucking huge! His hard nips would push downward and in opposite directions. He thought lower… Bobby’s put his phone down, closed his eyes and continue to explore his forgotten creation. His turtle shell abs were thick and wide, the cobble stone valley of muscle had deep crevices leading to a belly button that made an o shape; framed with a thick, wide, juicy, bulging Adonis belt… that flared with hot dirty masculinity. fuck.. why did I ever stop thinking about him? A thick treasure trail guided Bobby’s mind lower.. to a big black bush flowing into Mr. B’s big thick bulge.. his hard cock rolled up inside his tight jeans as the thick veiny shaft pulsated pushing it forward.. making itself expand bigger.. and bigger.. Bobby became lost in hot masturbation imagining Mr. B’s thick lumpy ropes of muscle cum erupting from his big hard lurching cock.. He imagined Mr. B moaning deeply as the smell of cum arose up his rock hard abs and hairy pecs… Bobby’s cock lurched and throbbed pumping thick hot cum into his briefs.. he moaned as his hips bucked in pleasure.. Shit, that felt good.. Bobby looked at his clock 1am He then changed his briefs and fell asleep.. But after a few minutes of sleep He opened his eyes He was standing up in the middle of his room and all he had on was his briefs and he felt someone’s presence behind him. “How’s my horny boy?” A deep voice said. He could feel the warmth of the man’s breath against the back of his neck and a hard masculine torso pushing up from behind him. Bobby could tell he was big… Bobby recognized that voice, he imagined that voice, right?… the room was dim but he could feel his boner throbbing hard, it curved and pulsated against his leg. fuck.. why am I so horned? He had always felt super horny, all the time, but never felt the depth of raw horniness he was feeling at this moment.. this was different, this was deep, dirty, and masculine.. and it felt so fucking good… he felt a deep pleasurable connection to his masculinity, and the boner in his briefs.. Bobby could feel his muscle lust bubbling from inside, ready to overflow.. his nuts churning hot spunk for him to pump. “It’s been a while…” the man’s huge hand rubbed down Bobby’s lower abs, and slid into his briefs, the waistband opened up revealing Bobby’s big hard boner.. The man took a deep inhale as a cloud of muscle lust fumed up Bobby’s hard toned body “Fuck yeah boy, that muscle lust smells good…” Bobby felt the man’s stubbled jaw and deep moans.. He felt the rock hard torso behind him expand and grow.. the man’s enormous bulge began to grind and hump Bobby’s soft ass.. the man gripped Bobby tightly.. A hot masculine smell began to waft up from the rock hard muscle man’s growing body.. fuming from his hairy pits and bulge. Bobby’s boner throbbed and pumped hard in the big man’s hand, all the pleasurable sensations made him ooze pre.. and the smell of the growing muscled man made his lust for muscle even stronger… “Oh fuck yeah boy.. you like that hot muscle man stink?” The deep voice emitted close to Bobby’s ear, as the man kept stroking him slowly… Bobby moaned, and nodded “Fuck yeah..” The huge muscle man pulled Bobby’s briefs down as his big boner bounced and throbbed in the air, the man then turned him around heavily lusting over his hard pecs and abs, and rock hard cock. Bobby’s eyes were guided by a thick hairy bush connected to a treasure trail that led up the muscles man’s rock hard cobblestone abs; which rippled and bulged. His hairy pecs were pumped big and his nips pointed in opposite directions. His traps were thick and his delts were huge.. he was enormous. Bobby’s brown eyes met with the man’s green eyes. The man grinned and his deep voice boomed.. “come here...”
  6. There's been a big slowdown in new content so I thought I'd try to inject some activity. This story will contain similar themes from my other stories, but it will be a lot more lighthearted, I believe. Hopefully you'll find some enjoyment out of it as well. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ My Roommate Rivals CHAPTER ONE: “So, Rory, are you gonna live on your own now? Enjoy the bachelor life a little?” Amy questions me as I help her box up her things. Amy is my roommate, my soon to be former roommate to be exact, and also great friend from college. “I don’t think so, I’ll probably get another roommate. Maybe even two. I’m only 24 so that extra income really helps with the mortgage.” “I would guess, I still can’t believe you were able to get a house like this.” “Yeah, perk of living in the Midwest and buying in a down market. Big houses that are cheap. You’re not going to get that out in Denver.” “Oh trust me, I know,” Amy rolls her eyes in exasperation. “I’ll have to get used to a 400 sq ft apartment. You got it lucky here.” I purchased my home a little under three years ago when I was just out of college. I like my city and knew I had a very safe position in my job even back then, so I bit the bullet and bought my first home. Certainly no mansion, but as Amy mentioned it had a lot of space for a starter home. Two bedrooms and 1-1/2 baths upstairs with a fully finished walkout basement with two more bedrooms and another full bath downstairs. A little of 2500 square feet, no too shabby, even though half of that is a basement. That being said, purchasing a house so young I knew I some assistance with the mortgage would be needed. So since I bought my house I’ve had a handful of roommates over the years and it had worked out great. The house was perfect to rent rooms out with the walkout. It gave me my privacy upstairs when I wanted it and it’s hard to argue with the extra income. Plus, I was still young and more than happy to stay connected as much as I could to my college friends, many of whom were still undergrads. With a big open backyard as well, my home made for a good place to have the occasional shindig as well. Amy offers a lead as I carry some boxes upstairs, “Well if you don’t have anyone lined up yet, my cousin just graduated and is looking for a place. He’s a business major, works for the air conditioner manufacturing plant across town.” “Oh yeah? That’s cool. I already put out a feeler among my buddies on Facebook. I’d much prefer to find roommates from friends like you rather than sift through the weirdos on Craigslist and such. Then if he sucks I can blame you." Amy giggles as we load the boxes into her car. “He’s cool. He’s a frat boy, Theta Chi.” I give her skeptical look. “I know, I know! But he’s alright. Yeah, a little bit of a tool but all fratties are. If he gives you shit let me know and I’ll kick his ass.” We share a laugh and Amy tells me she’ll get me in touch with him. “Sweet, I’ll let Grif know.” “Grif? Really?” “Shut up!” Amy then gives me a devious look, “Plus Rory, regardless of their personalities, don’t act like you haven’t told me that you think frat guys are hot.” I smirk back at her, “Ok, you sold me. As long as he wears a polo. If he’s ok living with a gay dude then I could give it a try." - Seven days later I’m sitting at a BWW’s reading a menu when I see a hand reach out to me in my peripheral vision. I look up and see a stunning young man smiling down to me. “Are you Rory?” I nod. “Hey bro, I’m Griffin, nice to meet you.” I shake his hand and my eyes trace up the defined forearm, past his elbow to nicely pumped biceps which are encased in snug sleeves. I take in his torso…oh yeah, he’s even rocking a polo. I laugh inwardly wondering if Amy told him to do so to make a good impression on me. Either way it’s working. I can make just out his pecs through the polo and note how his waist is still hiding in the loose fabric, indicating its tightness. He has very broad and round shoulders, perhaps he was a swimmer back in high school. Standing there I judge him to be about 5’10 with a nicely gym built body. Far from huge, but he definitely uses the weight room on a regular basis. I look up to his face. Oh yeah, typical frat boy, but I can’t deny I’m temporarily smitten. Strong jaw, full lips, Roman nose. His face is a perfect combination of masculinity mixed with a still maturing, yet boyish face. On top of his head is neatly styled dirty blond hair contrasting his bright blue eyes. My stomach flutters as I attempt to regain my voice. “Hi Griffin. Have a seat, I already ordered a beer, the waitress should be back soon. You like wings?” “Hell yeah man, who doesn’t! The hotter the better.” We chat and I do my best to get a feel for the guy. The waitress comes by and takes our order and Griffin orders himself a beer as well. “So I guess that means you’re 21?” I ask. “Yep, just turned two months ago.” “Are you a big drinker, Griffin?” “Call me Grif, bro. I’m not a huge drinker, but I like to party, yeah.” Grif chuckles, sensing my apprehension. “But I promise I’m not one of those alcoholic frat boys. I like to party, but I keep it reasonable. Only the weekends. Plus, too much booze is bad for the abs.” Griffin smiles, leans back and pats his stomach. The fibers of his tanned forearms undulate as he does. Inside I’m wishing he would pull up the shirt and give me a glimpse. As we chat more I quickly catch on that he has the frat boy charm. He’s a guy who is used to getting what he wants, but it also becomes clear he’s worked for what he has too. He came to college with minimal scholarships and worked part time for most his undergrad. I can respect that. He lets me know he’s got a typical 8-5 job so our work schedules would be the same. We are both into watching sports even though I’m not nearly as athletic as him. It seems like a good fit, and I trust Amy’s judgement. “Well, Grif, I think this could work out if you still want to rent out my room?” “Sweet, dude! Yeah man, if those rates you told Amy are still good then I’m in for sure. Amy told me about the basement and I trust her. Sounds like you got a great setup.” “Great! Oh…um…I don’t know if Amy mentioned this, but-” Grif cuts me off “You’re gay right, bro? Amy already told me.” “Um…yeah. Is that a problem?” Grif smiles and takes a drink of his beer. “Fuck no, dude. Some of my favorite guys from Theta Chi were gay. Is it gonna be a problem that I’m a breeder?” I laugh out loud and Grif raises his glass to mine and we cheers. - It’s just three days later when Grif starts moving in. He has a couple of his frat bros helping him and I’m swooning at all the hot young men in my home. They are all boisterous and playful but I can tell they are good dudes. And their muscle definitely comes in handy and not just for my eyes and spank-bank. All the bros are wearing cutoff shirts exposing their rock arms and giving me glimpses of pecs. Their strong bodies easily handle the big items. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to help Grif move in his dresser, the thing was massive. Luckily I got to stand by and hold the door open as these jacked frat boys move Grif’s stuff in. Grif and his bros are impressed with my house as well, which I take pride in. I can tell Grif is excited, “Damn dude, Amy didn’t do this basement justice. This living room down here is HUGE! And you even got a bar down here? With fridge and microwave? This is awesome!” Grif throws his meaty arm around my shoulder, “Whenever you bring over a hot stud I got all I need to stay down here and let you have at him!” I laugh and reciprocate, “Yeah Grif. And if you have a chick down here you got all you need.” “Not ‘IF’, Rory-boy. WHEN!” Grif squeezes my shoulder and pats me on the back. I reward the guys with pizza and beer which only cements my endearment to Grif’s buddies. They ask if I ever host parties and I tell them occasionally. “But you guys can certainly come over anytime you want to hang with Grif.” Grif smiles and adds, “And to hang with you too, buddy!” Late that night after Griffin’s friends have left I leave him alone to get settled in. As he does I notice a new message on my phone from my mother. [Hi Rory. My coworker Wendy has a son who is looking for a room. He’s in his last year at the University. He was always a good kid in high school. Here is his Facebook page if you’re interested. Love you!] [Thanks mom. Give me a few days to think about it. New guy seems cool. I prefer one roommate but let me think it over. Love ya too.] The next day the decision becomes easier. I find out that all annual merit raises as work have been frozen since business is down. I grumble but I suppose I should be thankful that I wasn’t one of the 15% who were laid off last month. All of sudden the income of another roommate is very enticing so I let my mother know I’ll set something up. I bring it up with Grif too. “That’s up to you, Rory-boy. I’m good with another roommate if you are. I lived in a frat house with 40 other guys, just 2 other roommates is a huge improvement. Just please don’t bring in a weirdo.” “I won’t Grif. He’s a bartender, I’m meeting up with him tonight.” “A bartender, huh? Well that’s a good sign. Plus if he can get me free or reduced drinks at his bar then I’m in for sure!” I’ve arranged to meet up with the new prospect at his bar. He works most nights so this was the only way I could see him during my normal hours. Being a college town and with it still being summer, the bar shouldn't be too busy so he assures me via text that he’ll be able to talk. I ask the woman behind the counter, “Excuse me, is Osbourne here?” She looks at me before shouting down the bar, “Oz! Someone’s here for you!” A man comes from behind the wall of booze wiping his hands on a towel and approaches me. His is a fine specimen of man I must say. He is long and lean with dark complexion that goes perfectly with his short black hair. He either has some Mediterranean genes or he has spent a considerable amount of time tanning this summer. I take in his dark piercing eyes, he is one of those guys who looks like they are wearing eyeliner. He’s a got a couple small tattoos on his forearms which look like black flames but I don’t look too closely. His has a very tight and lithe body, sort of like a male runway model. I can tell he has some power in his taut muscles, he gives me the impression of a compressed spring. A man with a lot more power than he looks. I peg him at about 5’11, maybe 170 lbs. He’s wearing a snug black shirt which gives an impression of the firm muscles underneath. The dark jeans he’s wearing show off a surprising ample ass, which no doubt gets worked a lot, either in the gym or with the women he picks up. All in all, the guy is smoldering. The type of guys that gives ‘dark and mysterious’ its appeal. He smiles at me, “Hey man, are you Rory? I’m Oz. What can I get you, it’s on the house.” “Top shelf it is!” I joke and he grins. “Kidding, any hefeweizen will do.” “Got just the thing for ya, man.” Like any good bartender he is charming and engaging. He makes me feel like he genuinely interesting getting to know me, even if he isn’t. I certainly want to get to know him better, especially sans clothes, but I keep this to myself. “Just got a few classes left before I can graduate with my business degree,” he lets me know. “This bartending job pays pretty well so I’m not in a huge hurry to get my degree, honestly. So instead of one tough final semester I’m going to stretch what I have left over two semesters and graduate next Spring.” “Smart man. So I already have one roommate, is that cool?” “If it’s not a problem with him its not a problem with me. I just gotta get out of my current place. I currently live with four other dudes. Five guys in one big house is way too many. The place is a pigsty and I’m a very clean person.” “I like hearing that, Oz. So you’ll still be bartending for the next year then?” “At least. I’d be a great roommate. We wouldn’t even really cross paths too often. I work afternoons and nights until closing and my normal days off are Sunday and Monday. So most of the time I won’t see you. We wouldn’t be in each others way too much.” This revelation gives me conflicting feelings, I love the idea that the second roommate will almost be invisible…yet at the same time I WANT to see as much of this gorgeous man as I could. “One last thing, Oz. I don’t know if your mom told you, but I’m gay, I hope that’s alright.” Oz chuckles as he smiles at me. “She didn’t tell me but honestly I pegged you as gay right away.” “You did? How!?” Oz smirks at me, “Because I’m hot, dude. And Erica, the girl who called me over. She’s smokin’ hot too, but you were only looking at me.” I hide my face, embarrassed and Oz laughs. “No worries man. It wasn’t obvious. It’s a skill I’ve picked up being a bartender. And to answer your question, I don’t care at all that you’re gay. Love is love, man. Here, have another free beer since I embarrassed ya.” He sets a new bottle down on the bar in front of me and gives me a smoldering wink. - The following weekend Oz pulls into my driveway on Saturday morning with the back of his pickup full of of his belongings. I welcome him inside where Grif and I have been eating breakfast. Grif and Oz lock eyes for the first time in my home. Grif drops his cereal spoon, rolls his eyes and moans dramatically. “Awww man, Rory? You’re letting this loser live here?” I’m taken aback by Grif’s rudeness but turn to see Osbourne smirking at Grif. “I take it you two know each other?” Oz approaches Grif and slaps him on the shoulder with a grin. “Griffin of Theta Chi! How’s it going man? Still salty about how we beat you guys for the flag football crown?” Grif huffs, “That was a lucky fuckin’ fluke play and you know it!” “We still won!” Oz grins brightly. “So you two do know each other.” “Yeah, Grif and I here were in the top two frats at the university. Our frats were big rivals. My frat, Phi Delta Theta has won the most intramural Greek trophies in the last few years. We usually beat the little Theta Chi boys here like Grif. But hey man, 2nd place is still pretty good,” Oz says patronizingly. “The Phi Delts always got the calls by the refs, some shady shit if you ask me,” Grif grumbles. “But my frat was known for having WAY better parties with MUCH hotter girls. Can’t deny that, Oz! Sorry you guys were never invited.” The two continue to banter and I watch them close. While it’s clear they are both proud members of their frats and both extremely competitive, I don’t get the sense that they hate each other. They seem to have a frenemies relationship. Regardless I decide I better make sure this is the case. “So boys, is this gonna be a problem? You two are going to start coming to blows are you? Because you guys are both a lot bigger than me, I can’t stop you.” The two laugh and Grif answers, “Naw boss, we’ll be fine. Plus, if we fought, Oz here would be in trouble since I’m clearly bigger and stronger.” Grif smirks and quickly throws up a single arm flex. A well developed biceps muscle pops up. Oz grins and turns to Grif. He stands right up to him, “Are you sure your bigger, Grif? I’ve got a couple of inches of height on you, little guy.” “Couple of inches my ass! You are maybe an inch taller, bro. I still weigh more than you, skinny.” “Barely. Well I’m still taller!” “And I’m still bigger!” - Oz takes the day to get settled in. He is wearing a sleeveless shirt as we hauls his stuff in and I enjoy his caramel skin which is stretched tight over his very lean muscles as I suspected. Oz is much more vascular and lean than I previously thought. He’s not as bulky as Grif but has that wiry look, almost like a wrestler. I catch a glimpse of his abs through he side of his very loose cutoff tank…and it’s very nice. By that evening Oz is settled into his room in the basement next to Grif’s. With a big sigh Oz joins us on the couch in the living room. “No plans tonight, Grif?” he asks. “Did you lose all your friends or what?" “No, twat. Just a low key Saturday tonight. I went out last night.” “Got it. No friends.” Oz teases and Grif chucks a pillow at his face. Later that night their intensely competitive streak comes out again as I hear screaming coming from the basement living room. I tromp down the stairs to find the two studs playing Call of Duty. “What the hell are you guys doing down here?” “Well, Oz here is fucking CHEATING, that’s what’s happening.” Oz just laughs, “Sorry, boss. Grif here just can’t handle losing to the better man. You’d think he’d better at coping by now, poor guy.” “Fuck off!” Grif slams his controller down and stomps to his room. I laugh as I watch him sulk off, “It’s not that big of a deal, Grif,” but he just huffs as he walks by. I may have underestimated the intensity of their rivalry.
  7. So, what I’m writing here is all real as best as I can tell you about it. I’m going to get some things wrong - and embellish just a little sometimes - but nothing that didn’t actually happen. Honestly, this isn’t one of those articles where it acts like “man I’m telling you the truth” and then someone is suddenly a nine foot Hercules “in real life”. However, because of the details, I think this fits best in “Stories/Fiction”. I hope you enjoy it. I sure as fuck did! SO WHAT HAD HAPPENED WAS…. I was going on a business trip. I knew someone else from the muscle worship community - the MGS board & CF - who also had the same kind of muscle & macro kinks that I do who lived there. I hit him up on Instagram way ahead of my trip & he was willing to connect when I got there. He talked about getting some dinner first, getting to know each other a bit before maybe losing some clothes. I understood - hey, this guy doesn’t know me, and truthfully, same towards him. So, sure, before meeting a potential nutjob (vs for a potential nutjob) at a hotel, let’s grab a bite. By then we knew each other's pictures, some about height/weight - because you know…that could matter, right? Suffice to say we met & that went well. We had some non-kink stuff in common. Talked about our various current relationships and boundaries, and that was all cool. We had earlier established we both were into muscle worship and power cuddling. From my POV, Jim is a sexy, 40’s, built, medium furry fireplug of a man (5’5”, 220#). There was nothing to dislike at all. That is one hot fucker right there. He told me some guys are disappointed at his height - he looks taller in his pictures. For me, it was a total turn on as I got to picture being “the big guy” in getting together with him. I also loved how at his height that muscle just made him seem bigger & wider! I’m 5’10”, 260#, but just the way my life has worked out, in the few cases I’ve been in a muscle worship or just play situation I’m often the smaller guy. One of my friends is 6’5” and about 290# (but not into muscle, we just have a good time together now and then) and another was about 6’3” and low two hundreds - that one loved flexing and being worshiped. Those are the only real times I’ve had someone flexing for me, so I’m pretty small compared to them. Jim told me it was the first time he’s gotten to be the “little guy”, which from my experience surprised me! I’m just used to guys who are bigger than me - where for him, it's the reverse. As we spent time together it was great to have him enjoying me being “the big guy” for him since I really, honestly, don’t typically see myself that way. I have enough dysmorphia to forget that I’m a 260# musclebear if I haven’t done a therapeutic mirror flex in the last 20 minutes. So, giving him something he was turned on about at the same time I was having an experience I was totally turned on about was just perfect. Jim and I fooled around, lots of cuddling and touching, getting acquainted physically. We never lost any clothes below the waist - seriously, belts, pants stayed on, and nobody got their cock out. Not that I would have minded! But, respecting boundaries, you know? (I like to say you can’t tell someone you’re trustworthy, you can only demonstrate it.) The guy is hot. I wanted to prove he could trust me to keep my word…and also because keeping my word is just important to me. So after some great petting, kissing, and mutual flexing & feeling on the bed, I decided to try a scene I have been fantasizing about in one way or another. I’m happy to say we matched on this, as it turned out. I got him to stand up in front of a mirror in the hotel. I stood behind him. I had him flex his arms with me a few times. I like that, it gets me out of my dysmorphia a little. It also let me be the big guy and him the little one for a moment. Then I told him to close his eyes. Being bigger than him I started holding him across the chest, moving back and forth a little bit here and there and stroking him on the head, chest, etc, very gently. Rubbing my chest on his back, squeezing him gently. Intentionally being just a touch hypnotic & relaxing - and from our conversation at dinner I know he understood what I was doing. I lean in and start to gently talk to him. Quiet but not sexy. “I’m going to tell you a story now Jim. I want you to visualize what I tell you in your mind really clearly.” He nods. “You walk into your gym like it’s any day for your workout. You feel strong, solid. It’s going to be a good one.” “You warm up, start to train, and start using some good weight. You realize you’re feeling strong, and getting a great pump. Things are feeling tight. Flex this right arm for me here.” He does. “Good man. It feels big, the pump is real today.” Jim makes a soft noise, just a little, gently, enjoying flexing his bicep in my hand. I’m getting off on it too. Still petting him around his body as I do this. I’m rock hard in my pants, and so is he, but other than stroking a cock now and then through the jeans nothing happens there at any point in the few hours we had together. “You notice as you’re training that things are looking different, just a little. Like things are just - off somehow. After another set or two you realize that you have to sit differently on the bench, and you have to lean down to put dumbbells back. You’re growing, getting taller, a little more muscular in proportion even, and nobody has quite noticed yet. You’re about five-ten now, closing in on six foot.” Jim: “Fuck yeah….” “Fuck yeah is right…you keep getting bigger, taller, more muscular. A buddy of yours comes up to you and says ‘Jim, what’s happening?!? You’re growing!’ The guy is about six foot, but now you’re about six-five, maybe six-six.” Jim: Moans a little. “That’s right, big man, you’re a head taller than him.” I stroke the top of Jims chest with the blade of my hand. “He comes up to just here on you now. You’re way bigger than him, and wider too.” Jim: Moans more. “You’re still growing. As you get bigger everything seems like it's shrinking, becoming somehow undersized, the people being shorter than you.” Jim is still moaning some. One of my hands continues to pet him, stroke him, indicate I want him to flex one or another muscle. He understands when I prompt for this by gently tapping the muscle, and he complies. I squeeze his trap, pec, shoulder, bicep, as I prompt for a flex, appreciating him as he does it, continuing to kiss him gently on the neck, head, or muscles when I can reach them. Keeping him in the story is the important part. I draw his attention back to the hand I’m keeping flat-bladed on his chest, gesturing to the gym guy’s size. “You’re growing more. Seven feet,” my hand moves down to the middle of Jims’ chest, “eight feet”, my hand moves to the bottom of his chest just above his sternum, “nine feet, “ the middle of Jims stomach. Jim moans with each movement of my flat hand. We both love the giant thing. I know this is part of his fantasy life. “Your six foot buddy is like a child next to you. You’re more than twice his width already…your muscles have blown up bigger than your height as you’re growing.” I lean in close and whisper to him “And you’re not done growing yet, not by a long shot”. Jim moans again, more intensely now. Because of time I decided to accelerate. (I wish we had more time, but we are both working the next day.) Blade-hand moves down. “Ten feet.” And down again and again. “Eleven…twelve feet. You’re double this guy’s size now Jim. You walked into this gym a half-foot shorter and eighty pounds lighter than him…but now, he is half your height. You are a massive beast, bigger than four of him put together, and more than twice as wide.” Jim is really into it, moaning and flexing: “So big..so big….” “You’re still getting bigger…fifteen feet comes and goes…twenty feet…” I can’t move my hand down that far without breaking the body connection we have - I’m wrapped around him gently, my chest moving gently on his back, keeping contact, so I take the blade hand back to stroking and tell him what he’s seeing now. “Your buddy is staring into your bulging teardrop quads right now. Your thigh is easily wider and way thicker than his whole body. He looks up at you, and you lean forward just a little over your huge chest to look down at him.” Jim moans. “You look up above you, you still have room before the ceiling, but not much.” “Twenty five feet, your buddy is down around your knee.” “Thirty feet, He is staring into the front of your calf - it's bigger across than him, and probably has five times as much mass as he has in his whole body. Your muscles have kept growing bigger than your height - you are looking thicker and more muscular every moment.” Jim: “Fuck yeah…” “Thirty five feet - your buddy is starting to be just below your calf, and your head is getting closer to the ceiling. You’re reaching up so you can break a hole in it..because you’re not done growing yet, are you Jim.” Jim, moaningly: “Not done yet…so much bigger…” Jim is still flexing when I touch a fur-dusted muscle, and I’m squeezing it to express my gratitude for the gift of feeling his body, his fur, his flex. Knowing he is into it the same way I am. Sometimes leaning into his ear to whisper “Yes…that arm is giant now, probably over ten feet around if you could measure it…” He moans a little. “I’m so huge”. I whisper to him: “Yes, you are…you’re a growing giant…you are massive and powerful…and this city is going to shrink in front of you as you break out of the gym…” “Forty feet and you are tearing a hole in the ceiling. It is like paper, the steel support struts crumbling as you handle them, still getting bigger, the ceiling approaching your shoulders. You are tearing room open around you, making space in the roof, keeping the debris off your little buddy. You’re quickly sixty feet tall Jim. You are ten times your little friend’s size - he’s somewhere around that ankle above your giant, massive foot, taking up part of the gym.” Jim: “Fuck…fuck…fuck…bigger than the building…giant muscles….” “You look down and see he moved - he pokes out from behind your enormous, bulging calf once or twice - the massive size of your calf is keeping any debris off him like the overhang of a building….” Jim: “So big….” I kept petting him for a few more moments, but stopped storytelling. I leaned in close and said quietly - not whispering, bringing him up gently from suggestibility, “It’s getting close-ish to the time where you said we had to stop…I don’t want to, but I don’t want to keep you later than we said was OK.” (Remember that thing about trust?) He fully opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and nodded. Me: “Can I ask you back to the bed for another quick cuddle before we go? I still haven’t had you be my big guy yet. We have about ten minutes and I would love having my head on your chest…big man.” Jim: “I would love that.” The man is really a furry, broad, muscular fireplug, just sexy as fuck. We lay back down, I scooched down the bed a little, and put my head on his big furry chest. We curled up again in a few different ways for a few minutes, then got off the bed & I helped him get himself together. I asked him about the storytelling: he told me that was new for him too, and really fucking hot, would be happy to do it again sometime. I was really glad to hear it. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. (I have a few variations in mind as well.) We called it a night. We’ve kept in touch a little & I think we’re both up for doing it again sometime if it's possible. We don’t live in the same city & I don’t travel there often. But those dates are getting set for next year…and I’m reserving him for a couple of nights if I can! …AND THERE YOU HAVE IT. As I said, within the limits of my memory, that’s how it happened. Some details are definitely wrong, but all the spirit is right. I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR FROM YOU. So, I am left wondering, is this thing unique to me, or has anyone else done something like this in person? Not just talk roleplay, but something where you’re in the same room interacting. I’d like to know! If you have any reactions or info to share, that’s welcome in the thread. Oh...and if you might be up for something similar let me know. I'm in the Texas DFW area, but I travel occasionally. -Bear.
  8. James

    Writing Will

    This is my first attempt at writing a growth story. I hope it goes well and that you'll appreciate it! CHAPTER ONE I’m a writer. Always have been. In fact, when I was a kid, about eight years old, I wrote my first book : Diary of a Trophy. Seven hundred and twenty-four pages long. An in-depth analysis of my relationship with childhood, my parents and the burden it was to be a single child. The book was pushed by my aunt, Helen, who used to get drunk with a few of her friends at the M. House every Thursday. Helen was always supportive of my writing, even when it did border on the creepy way-too-mature-for-his-age side. So she offered a copy of the diary to one of the soccer mom friends of hers, who was married to a major publisher. And then, without any warning, I became a sensation : the Writer Kid. Won a few awards, too, and began working on the next installment, entitled Growing pains : ruminations of a successful child artist. I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice to say I managed to become the world’s youngest successful writer just as fast as I became the world’s youngest has-been. Growing pains was a painful failure. And although my parents, Helen and the publisher were trying their best to help me get through it, encouraging me to keep writing, I realized that, after all the theatrics of being a child celebrity, I was actually relieved. Relieved because I would be able to experience a normal teenager’s life when entering middle school. And in any case, it’s not like lots of ten-year old kids had read my books. No one would know who I was. And indeed they didn’t. Still don’t. Which I’ve come to see as a blessing in disguise. Sitting alone, sipping my beer in the corner of the M. House, just like my aunt Helen did, I sighed as I felt my pen drying out again. “His tears brushed against my...” was the last sentence to come out of my pen that evening. Happy birthday, me, I thought. Twenty six years of dry pens and counting. Setting it down and letting myself get lost in the serenity of the small bar I had spent so much time meditating in, I felt someone tap on my shoulder. “Excuse me ?”, the stranger’s voice asked as I looked up at them. “What ? Uh, yes ?”, I answered, coming out of my haze so suddenly. “You’re Tiny Tolstoy, right ?” The man was undoubtedly expansive. It actually took me a few seconds to work out whether or not he was a man or my living-room cupboard. He wore a very large leather vest, which barely covered his long, thick wrists. It seemed to have been picked out of a pile at Goodwill, which gave his rugged look even more of a strange attractiveness, considering the ill-fitted ripped jeans he was wearing and the hobo beard that covered most of his face. I almost got scared, hearing the nickname I got when the Diary became a best-seller, because his deep, almost uncanny voice was booming it out way louder than I was comfortable with. “Uh, excuse me, who are you ?” I struggled to say without choking. “Sorry, I’m Will. It’s just that… I’m a big fan of yours. Alex, right ? Alex Castle ?”, he let out, nervously. Which I found so strange considering how imposing he was physically. “Yeah, that’s me. Nice to meet you, Will.” I held out my hand, noticing with a belated feeling of self-disgust the faint dark spots that the dozen cigarettes I’d smoked in the last half-hour had left on my fingers. He shook it, relieving me of any discomfort, since his hands were covered in dirt, replacing it with the pain of how strongly he was shaking my hand. “Same here, Mr Castle.”, he replied, filled with apparent joy. I must’ve given my pain away because he quickly relieved the pressure and smiled at me. “Sorry, I always do that. Still have a hard time managing my strength.”, he confessed. “That’s fine”, I playfully answered, mainly relieved that I had someone to talk to in this lonely bar. “And you can call me Alex. No one’s called me Mister Castle since I was ten.” He laughed and nodded along, sitting on the opposite side of the booth. My God, that guy is huge, I thought, seeing as though he seemed to be taking up the entire width of the booth. After a few seconds, I noticed that he wasn’t going to do or say anything except keep up this star-struck look he’d held since the beginning of the conversation. It was weird bumping into someone who was an actual fan of my work. “So, uh… Still, huh ?”, I asked him. “Huh ? What do you mean ?”, he replied, sincerely confused. His look of pure innocence reminded me of so many John Coffeys and Lennie Smalls, without the implied stupidity. In spite of his child-like demeanor contrasted by his giant frame, nothing about him indicated that he was dumb. Quite the contrary : he had that sparkle in his right eye that seems to hide a world of wonders. And what eyes. Brown, tinged with some light green. Big and getting deeper the more I looked into them. “I just mean… Well you said that you still have a hard time managing your strength. You’re obviously a big guy, you must’ve gotten used to it by now right ?”, I said, not really sure how else to open a conversation with this man. He suddenly turned red, which added to his shy, innocent attitude. “Not really,” he answered honestly. “This is still fairly new. But thank you for noticing… Alex. And, uh… Happy birthday.” He smiled and reached into his front pocket, taking a shiny new pen out of it and placing it in front of me. I laughed and smiled wider than ever. “You know, you’re the first person to wish me happy birthday this year, let alone give me a gift. Thanks a lot, Will, it means more to me than you think.” “Oh my God ! That’s what Henry says to Catalina in Loving Kind!”, he blurted out, more excited than I’d ever seen someone be about my work. We spent another hour and a half talking about my books, what he loved about them, how strange it was being a child writer. And for the first time is so many months (years?), I felt heard. Listened to. Will turned out to be more than a fan, he was interested in talking about my work and curious about how it came to be. He then confessed that he always kept that pen in his pocket, because he heard not long before that I used to write at the M. House. Apparently, he often wished he could give it to me and know that he contributed to my work, albeit in a small way. All in all, I couldn’t say if it was the attention he was giving me, his look of pure interest or his ironically ultra-masculine aura, but I felt myself shifting closer to the table, hoping to rub a tiny fraction of my finger against his. “Can’t believe I’m twenty-six, Will…”, I said, exaggerating a sigh. “Well you don’t look a day over twenty, Alex”, he answered, smiling. “And how old are you?”, I asked, guessing at about thirty. “I just turned nineteen.”, Will responded with all the calm in the world. It took me a few seconds to start chuckling. “No, come on, how old are you?” “I just told you.”, he said, a little upset. “But you’re not nineteen, I mean look at you. You’re like…” “A monster? A freak?”, he cut off. “Because that’s the bullshit my classmates always gave me, Alex!” I was shocked by two separate things: one, the fact that this mountain of man was nineteen years old. Second, that anyone could’ve even thought about bullying him for looking that way. “Will,”, I interjected softly, taking his giant hand into mine. “You’re…” Some tears were forming on the surface of Will’s gorgeous eyes and I couldn’t think of anything to say to express the way I saw him. Appreciated him. So I decided to kiss him across the table. His tears were now trickling down my cheek as I felt his rugged lips push against mine. His big, calloused hand reached up to my jaw, making me feel like I was kissing a senior bodybuilder, not a nineteen year old boy. I let go of him for a few seconds, looking straight into his eyes. “I’m sorry. And you’re not a freak. You’re beautiful.”, I confessed before resuming the kiss. Five minutes later, I saw myself picking up the scraps of paper that I referred to as my next book. Will was breathing heavily and didn’t stop looking at me for a second: indeed, the intensity with which he was staring at me made me feel weak in the knees. When arriving at my car, I realized with half-concealed amusement that we were going to have a problem : my new friend was, as he told me in the M. House that night, standing at 6ft and 4in high, and 250 pounds, which by all means meant that he would have a very, very hard time fitting in my tiny Kia Picanto. Nevertheless, too entranced by what we were going to do with each other once we got past that minor car-related inconvenience, we laughed it off. Although I can’t say for certain that watching Will struggle to fit on the passenger seat of my car and almost fail to close the door didn’t somehow contribute to my erection. His enormous thigh, which the ripped up holes in his jeans only allowed me to see a fraction of, was pushing against the gearbox but he did his best to contain it. We arrived at my place at around 11pm and calmly walked the length of my front-yard to the door. “This is where you live ?” he asked while he marveled at the big house’s facade. “Yeah. You like it ?” “I love it !” I locked the door behind us and before I could even process what was happening, Will pressed his entire body against mine and kissed me harder than anyone had ever kissed me before. I could feel his moans of pleasure in my mouth and his very obvious hardness against my thigh. I held on to his huge arms, feeling myself fall against the door from the intensity of the kiss. Only then did I truly realize the expansive width and general size of the young man. My fingers dug deep into the leather sleeves that seemed to struggle to contain the mass of his rock-hard biceps. His hips and legs pushed with so much force against mine that I almost felt crushed, but the pain paled in comparison to how much Will turned me on. It had been months since I’d been touched, let alone touched with so much intent and forwardness. He then shifted to start kissing my neck. I looked up at the light gray ceiling above me and got blinded by the light of the chandelier that adorned it as he forced his lips into my neck, eliciting moans of pleasure that I didn’t even know I had in me. The way he handled me was so primal and powerful that I decided to let go and gladly let him take anything he wanted from me. This was not the adoring fan I’d met a few hours ago. This was a decidedly masculine force, that I was willing to give up everything to. Will picked me up in his big, muscular arms. “Where’s your bedroom ?”, he asked in a deeper voice than he had used a couple minutes before. He put me down on the bed with more brutality than he probably intended and proceeded to take of his vest, revealing an extremely tight, black undershirt that seemed to almost give way, considering the size of his enormous chest. I sat there in silence for a few seconds, looking up at his beautiful frame with blatant amazement, which apparently made him a little nervous. “You think I’m too much.” he said, visibly embarrassed. “I think you’re perfect.” I sat up on the side of the bed, lifted up his shirt and found myself face to face with his incomparable set of eight blocky abdominal muscles. My face was drawn to them and I started to kiss every single one of them with a softness that made him breathe more heavily than he ever did before. “Fuck, Alex. Yes…”, he hissed while I made my way to his expansive chest. If I had to guess, I’d say that his pectoral muscles hung from his chest by at least four inches. He held the back of my head as I licked past the deep cleavage that formed in between his pecs, pushing the shirt upwards when I reached his hard, rosy nipples. I felt him flex his chest against my face when I sucked on the right one. “Oh my god, yes… Don’t stop!” he moaned, pulling me closer to his enlarged nipple. By then, I was almost sure that I’d burst inside my underwear before even touching myself : the combination of his deep, perfect voice with the feeling of pure power that emanate from his body, and the hard warmth against my mouth as I sucked on his chest harder and harder made me more erect than I’d probably ever been in my life. A strange calm suddenly washed over me and I felt myself compelled to do something strange. My right hand came up to his abs, slowly caressed them and soon started to circle around. The circle I traced kept getting smaller and smaller under I was barely covering a single abdominal muscle. I ceased any and all other activity, but he still held me close as my index finger traced that circle over and over and over… I have no idea what triggered this instinct, neither do I understand what compelled me to keep going, or why it seemed to elicit so much pleasure in Will, who started to moan louder and louder until all I could hear was the never-ending echo of his pleasure above me. “Keep going, Alex”, the nineteen year old titan bellowed, letting me feel the resonance of his deep voice inside his chest. My finger traced the circle until it finally decided to move upwards, then lower, to the right, another circle… It took me some time to understand that my brain was doing something for me. Out of nowhere, a powerful wind of pleasure flowed through the two of us. The world went silent. No more cars passing by, no birds singing their last song of the day. Not even a rustle in the trees. Not a single hushed hiss of October wind. Nothing, except the distinguishable sound my finger was making, rubbing against the skin of Will’s ripped stomach. “Oh my God… It’s too much. Fuck !”, Will said, tearing the silence of the room. His chest pushed against my face. Was he flexing ? It didn’t feel like it. He applied more pressure on my head, as if he never wanted me to let go of him or stop the movement of my finger. Then, after a few seconds of powerful and emotional pleasure, something else echoed through the room. A sound I knew and had heard before. The sound of Will’s undershirt ripping right down the middle of his backside. He let out a powerful moan. “What the fuck is happening to me, Alex ?”, he said in an even deeper voice, which seemed impossible. My finger kept tracing. Over the same two-inch surface. I was doing what I’d always done best. Writing against his warm skin a word I didn’t even know the implications of: BIGGER.
  9. ABSQRST

    Halloween In Havenville Part One

    Not my first story, but the first I've posted here. I write a lot more on my tumblr. Many thanks to MonsterMash for editing this for me and for encouraging me to write some stuff. I don't think it mentions Havenville in the story, but it's the default town I write most of my longer stories in, I'm gonna start posting the others if you guys like this one. October 25th 2014 In the Omega Beta Alpha Frat house a party was raging. All of the frat brothers had their new pledges and each of the older boys had adopted one pledge as a brother. Tonight, the first test for the pledges had started: seeing if they could handle their liquor. “Hey there, lil bro!” Drake staggered into the hall of their frat house, a little tipsy already. “Come join the party!” he said to the smaller red head that he’d been paired with. Nate, Drake’s pledge brother, was a freshmen, and a real freshman at that. He was very boyish, being a lot shorter then the other pledges. He reminded Drake a lot of himself. He’d been shy like Nate. He hadn’t wanted to get involved with the parties or even the Frat. But, like Nate, Drake was a legacy and his family had pushed him into the frat. Drake had been scared that being gay would be difficult for the frat to deal with, but surprisingly, it hadn’t been. His frat brothers had been so easy going about it that Drake had come out of his shell, quickly losing his shyness around them. He still hadn’t made his mind up about Nate yet, probably just the usual nerves. Omega Beta Alpha was a bit of a jock frat, which could be intimidating to a little guy like Nate. Hell, even Drake had been a track star in high school. Nate was definitely not an athlete. He looked like he was the token nerd for the frat that year. A hot little nerd, Drake thought, with his red hair and green eyes. If Drake had those features on his slim runner’s body, he’d rule the world. But Drake had plain dull brown hair and boring grey eyes. Nate shook his curly red head at Drake. “I’ll stay out for a bit.Just looking at all of the pictures.” One of the walls of the frat house had been decorated with pictures of frat brothers from previous decades. But Nate seemed interested in one particular photo. “You know that guy is a murderer,” Nate said, pointing to a tall dark haired boy in the center of a photo. The text “James Hawke, President, 1962” was inscribed in gold underneath the photo. “Yea, I heard it was some Alfred Hitchcock shit, how they found the dead guy. ” Drake shrugged “We’re not really meant to talk about him. I mean, he wasn’t convicted or anything, but its not a part of history the university wants remembered, you know?” “Do you know if they ever found him? I heard he took off after the murder.” Nate said, looking at Drake with wide eyes. “Not that I know of,” Drake told him. Nate suddenly looked sad. “The guy he killed isn’t on here.” “That’s cause he was gay!” Jimmy said, coming up behind them. Drake and Nate jumped a little. “The frat wasn’t nearly as accepting as we are now, back then.” He hiccuped, standing between them. He wrapped his arms around Drake and Nate’s shoulders, staring at the picture with them. He held a half full glass of beer in the hand hanging over Drake’s shoulder, a few big drops of beer sloshing out onto the floor. Jimmy was Italian and it showed in his tanned skin and pitch black hair. He wasn’t hairy and worked hard to keep his body trim and tight. Something he had to do, given how much beer he drank. He was a swimmer and Drake thought his legs and his ass were his best features. Not that he told Jimmy that. “Wasn’t James Hawke gay too?” Nate said. “Yeah, but his daddy was rich. That makes all the difference around here,” Drake said, matter-of-factly. “You're so tiny!” Jimmy said, feeling Nate’s shoulders. “Look, can you fags come back in and join the party already?” Nate’s face went red. Drake shook his head, rolling his eyes at Jimmy. “What?” Jimmy’s drunken face suddenly looked angelic and innocent. He spoke in a higher pitched voice than usual as he said, “it’s ok to call someone a fag if they’re your friend.” “It’s not ok, douche-nozzle,” Drake said, but couldn’t help but smile. He liked how his frat brothers could joke around with him about being gay. “Whatever.” Jimmy nodded at Nate. “Let’s get this boy drunk!” he said, leading them back into the party room. ——————————————————————————————————————————— October 26th 2014 It was early morning when the party ended. Nate managed to loosen up a bit and had even impressed a few of the guys with how much he drank. But it had cost the little ginger. He could barely walk and Drake had to drag his little bro back to his dorm room. Nate was practically asleep, his arms wrapped around Drake’s slim torso and gripping at his shirt. His face pressed into Drake’s shoulder and he was drooling onto his big bro’s collar. “We’re back, lil bro,” Drake announced, dumping Nate against the wall next to his door. Nate woke up abruptly as he was suddenly forced to keep himself upright. He smirked dumbly at Drake and tossed the room key at him. Drake rolled his eyes and tried to open the door. But Drake was drunk too and it took several tried for the door to open. Once the door was open, Nate fell into his room and somehow managed to land on his bed.His roommate wasn’t home so luckily there was no one to complain about the noise. Drake started to help Nate get his shoes off, but the little guy pulled Drake up by the collar and kissed him full on the lips. It only lasted a second, but Nate pushed him away, his face bright red. Guess that answers if he’s gay or not, Drake thought. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Nate slurred, burping. “I’m really drunk.” Drake shrugged and flashed a cheeky grin. “That’s…” he stopped when Nate dropped down onto his pillow, already snoring softly. Drake sighed. He was on his knees next to Nate’s bed. The door and the roommate’s bed looked miles away. He just laid back, resting his head on a pile of folded towels and tried to get some sleep. Maybe Nate wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. Or maybe he would. Drake wasn’t sure which one would be better. During his sleep,for the first time in years Drake had a wet dream. It was intense and vivid. He felt hands caressing his body, teeth biting at his nipples, and tongues working his average cock and balls. It felt as if his clothes moved as he slept, like real hands were sculpting his body into something new. He twisted and turned, fighting against strong grasps that held down his wrists and ankles. It was extremely hot, and he eventually came, roaring when he did. Something he’d never done before. The noise was so loud, it almost shook Nate from his sleep. The smaller guys groans though were silenced by Drake’s moans. Drake woke hours later, well into the day, and he thanked god it was a Sunday. He was hungover and still very tired, but his underwear was cold and damp from the multiple loads coaxed out of his sleeping form. He sat up noticing that Nate’s bed was empty, then he thought he heard something tear and felt cold air on his back. “Sleeping beauty’s awake,” a voice chuckled from the other bed Drake turned to take in Nate’s roommate, a beefy looking boy.The corn fed Kansas type. “Nate said to say sorry for last night, he went off to the library… I think to avoid you” the roomie explained. “I’m Greg by the way” “Hey, I’m Drake, Nate’s big brother at Omega,” Drake greeted, rubbing sleep from his eyes He was just wondered whether he was coming down with a sore throat, he sounded horse, when there was another tearing sound. A rip spread up Drake’s sleeve, the fabric stretched thin by a thickly muscled arm that wasn’t his own. “What the fuck,” Drake gasped, jumping up and looking at his arms, both huge and heavy with muscle. “Yea, your bursting out of that shirt.” Greg grinned. “Big guy problems, I know the feeling. You can borrow one of mine if you like.” Drake nodded, a little shook up by his veiny arms. He looked over to Greg who appeared to be the same height as him. Greg fished out a vest from his wardrobe and Drake noticed that Greg’s arms looked a little thicker than his own bigger arms. Greg tossed the vest over and Drake pulled his shirt off. It fell apart in his hands. Drake stopped dead as he looked down at his torso. He always had some nice slender abs, but now he couldn’t see them past a pair of big, tight pecs. “Nice fucking abs man!” Greg said, lifting his own shirt to show abs that looked a lot like Drake’s had, before he woke up. “Been working on mine for months and can’t get any more cut…… What’s your secret?” “I don’t know,” Drake answered, one hand shrugging on the vest, the other tracing deeper then normal ridges on his stomach. He moved to the door, the vest tight against his torso, his massive arms painfully on display. As he opened the door he saw Greg’s nostrils flare, a little flash of light sprang up in the back of his eyes. “Hey, if you want to work out or sometime…… you know where I am.” Greg smiled, his broad shoulders folding inwards like he was suddenly shy. Drake just nodded and fled the dorms. When he got back to the frat house he sped up to his room, ignoring his brothers who’d starting to clean up from the party. He jumped out of his clothes and threw his cum sodden briefs into a pile of dirty clothes on the other side of the room. He stood at the mirror on the back of his door. His mouth open and his eyes flushed with shock. Drake was ripped, a deep solid six pac flexed on his stomach. He bounced his pecs for the first time ever and smirked arrogantly at the feel of them falling under their muscle-heavy weight. He flexed his arm and caressed the swollen bicep. He’d always had big legs, but now the rest of his body had caught up with them. The biggest surprise was his cock. When hard before, it was about 6 inches, on a good day. Now it looked to be that big soft. Also his balls felt heavy and full, even though he’d shot more into his pants then he did in a normal week of jerking off. Drake shook off the shock and with eyes still heavy with sleep, he fell into his bed. ——————————————————————————————————————————— October 27th 2014 Drake slept the whole day and night, and he had another wet dream. This time even more hands and tongues were involved. Again they milked Drake while he slept. Invisible mouths taking turns sucking down his swollen cock, hands massaging his bloated muscles. Then the tongues started. They worked over his body, washing every muscle. They cleared his skin and excited the hair follicles. He woke in a sweat the next morning, but it wasn’t cold, it was warm like bathwater. Still full of sleep, he rose out of bed and moved towards the mirror. He half wondered whether he’d dreamt the growth from the day before. Maybe he’d drank some bad vodka. But he felt heavy, and parts of his body bounced and swung when they hadn’t before. His eyes widened at the sight in the mirror. He was the same size as yesterday. Built like he’d been hitting the gym for years. His abs still cut unreasonably deep, his arm muscles still big and covered in veins. But now he was hairier. A thin forest of dark hair had sprouted over his pecs during the night. Some more spread over his thighs and a slim trail ran up his abs stopping one cobble stone muscle below his pecs. Cum was splattered over his pecs and stomach again. Drake sighed and wiped it off with a nearby shirt. It was the shirt Greg gave him. He’d have to wash that later. Drake felt a chill and what could’ve been a tongue run along his soft cock, causing it to shoot up into a instant erection. “Fuck.” Drake grinned. He should be shocked or scared, but what kind of man would react without delight to suddenly having an 8 inch cock? There a loud knocking at the door. “One second!” Drake shouted,this voice a little deeper then the day before He pulled on some boxers quickly, not realizing that they fit perfectly over his longer fatter cock. Like they’d spent their entire existence being stretched out by it. He didn’t bother with a shirt, none of the other guys did in the frat, and Drake had a much better body then most of them now. He opened the door and found his frat brother Jimmy staring back at him from the room across the hall. “Why’d you knock on my door?” Jimmy said.He looked like he’d just woken up, his eyes bleary and bloodshot. 
Like Drake, he wore only boxers. Drake did his best to keep his eyes above the neck, not looking down at Jimmy’s flat stomach or long legs. “I didn’t…. you knocked on mine,” Drake retorted. Without even being aware he was doing it, he flexed his chest and rolled his shoulders towards Jimmy menacingly. Jimmy shook his head, and backed away a step from the larger male. “No, I didn’t,” he said. They both stood quiet for a moment. Drake went back to relaxing his muscles, but noticed that it made him seem a couple inches shorter. He watched as Jimmy took one long inhale and rolled back on his feet a little. “Do you have classes today?” Jimmy said,suddenly shy Drake shrugged and scratched the back of his head, feeling, a little nervous for some reason. His bicep flexed and Jimmy’s eyes widened. “I got a few hours,” Drake answered. A wide smile appeared on Jimmy’s face “Great…. do you want to fuck?” Drake stepped back this time. “What are you….” Jimmy leaned against his door-frame and took another deep breath. Drake did the same and got a sharp smack of musk in his nose. Drake shuddered. He smelt really good. “I just really want to fuck, and you look like you know what you’re doing,” Jimmy stated. “You know you’re pretty hung and you’re gay, so I assume you can fuck guys pretty well…” Drake just nodded, even though his experience with men was surprisingly small. Jimmy took the nod as a yes to everything and pulled Drake into his room. The door swung closed under its own power and a gust of wind pushed the two frat brothers onto Jimmy’s bed. Drake clumsily tore off Jimmy’s boxers and then his own. He was unused to his larger hands and his new found strength. Drake went to roll onto his back, to let Jimmy on top, but he felt a gentle pressure on the front of his body, preventing him from turning. Like hands were holding him in place. While he tried to move forward, Jimmy laid down on his back in front of Drake, and wrapped his legs around Drake’s waist. Drake felt more pressure, this time pushing him into place and lining up his swollen cock with Jimmy’s tight looking ass. He would’ve been alarmed, but he didn’t have time. The next thing he knew, he was baring down on top of Jimmy, his cock pluning into Jimmy’s hole. The sensations were so hot, it made it hard for Drake to think. The formerly straight boy cried out once, but then buried his face into Drake’s thickly muscled chest. Drake felt himself bottom out, filling Jimmy to the hilt. Loving every second of it. For a long time, Drake fucked Jimmy, hard. He’d never fucked a guy this hard before, but it felt natural. As though something were guiding his thrusts. Pushing him in a certain way to hit Jimmy’s prostate just right. To make Jimmy’s cock bounce at just the right time. Jimmy nibbled at Drake’s traps as they both felt phantom mouths licking their nipples and cupping their balls. They got lost, joined in the sheer heat of their bodies coming together. Drake felt himself get close, over and over again, but each time, something stopped him from coming. It felt like a tongue would run between his balls as they slapped against Jimmy’s tight ass at just the right second, pulling him away from the edge. Jimmy also found himself unable to come, the feeling of a hand pinching his piss slit slightly whenever he began to feel his balls tighten up, ready for release. After an eternity, Drake felt himself ready to come. Jimmy pulled his head away from Drake’s neck and lay back on the bed. Drake felt a pressure on the back of his neck, guiding him towards Jimmy’s face. His face moved forward and he gladly kissed Jimmy, feeling as though Jimmy’s mouth had multiple tongues in it kissing him back. And that’s when he finally came, shooting thick shots of come into Jimmy’s tight ass.Jimmy came at the same time, his ass clamping down on Drake’s dick as he fired numerous shots of jizz onto his chest. Drake broke their kiss, hovering over Jimmy, his arms flexed like marble pillars on either side of Jimmy’s head. His fingers were dug in the headboard, almost denting the wood. “That was better then fucking girls,” Jimmy exclaimed, sweat glistening off his face and cum covered chest. 
“Well, you’re the one who got fucked…” Drake smirked as Jimmy breathed in the combined musk of Drake and sex. “You want to go again?” Jimmy asked, grinding his ass further down Drake’s softening cock. Drake felt tired, and started to shake his head no. But then a tongue ran up the under side of his cock and Drake went immediately solid, deep inside Jimmy’s freshly broken in ass. A light breeze blew against Drake’s balls and they bloated with more of his potent spunk. “Lets do it” Drake growled, pushing upwards and forcing Jimmy to curve against Drake’s larger body. They continued till Drake had to leave for class, hours later. He left Jimmy exhausted and covered in cum. But Drake felt powerful and full of energy. He got dressed and was already in class by the time he noticed that his clothes fit his bigger body perfectly and that no one had noticed he’d nearly doubled in size in one night. ———————————————————————————————————————————
  10. geektofreek

    Outgrowing The House

    Hey guys! Hope everyone has been enjoying the new forum like I have. If you haven't already bookmarked my brand new website, I posted this story earlier today. It's been a long time since I've written a macro story, and while it still mostly focuses on muscle, I'm sure there is going to be something for everyone in this story. Enjoy! ******************************** It was strange to say that someone would want to outgrow their own home, but high school senior Zachary Parker wanted exactly that. He stood there naked in the bathroom, a giant of nothing but muscle and young teen sweat, eyeing his shower like it was the competition. He knew today just had to be the day. The young teen was teetering on 400 pounds of solid muscle after this mornings workout. His body felt so incredibly pumped, so unstoppably huge. He knew immediately as he put one foot into the shower that things were definitely different. The small growths that he had been experiencing were nothing compared to the explosion of muscle that had happened earlier. There was no telling how huge he had grown this morning (with a smashed scale now sitting in his bedroom). All he knew was that the shower began to make this horrific cracking noise, the pipes inside the walls strained, and even the tiles began shattering like glass. “It’s finally happening...” Zach snickered. It was actually almost hard for the muscle teen not to get aroused at this point. He had been fantasizing about this moment for so long, he almost didn’t even know where to start. He figured he would do something that would typically be innocent, washing his body for example. There was almost that sinister chuckle as he popped of the cap. There was no way the shower going to hold, just no fucking way. As he began lathering up his mountainous hairy pectorals, the first bolt blew off the wall, bouncing off his 70 inch muscle chest. Zach just laughed and continued casually washing his chest, hearing the strain of the metal framework, the impending destruction of the all the grout and plaster holding everything together. With a flinch of his giant hairy legs, a flex his mountainous arms and barndoor-wide back, he triggered another small growth. It was almost frightful how comical the young god thought the whole thing was. There was such an overwhelming amount of joy he felt feeling his body squeeze and fill the tiny space, just like when he had outgrown the houses small door frames. With barely any effort, and what felt like pounds of muscle packing onto his frame, his shoulders and legs become wedged and almost stuck between the showers bending frame... STRRRAIIINN CRACK Zach watched in amazement. The cheap walls around him collapsed to the floor like they were nothing to him; childrens architecture in the face of a real god. With his body now totally unleashed, completely exposed, there was almost a part of Zach that wanted to just keep growing until the he filled the entire bathroom. A fun thought, bringing him a small chuckle. He figured though he should probably wait, he wanted to enjoy every minute of this. He arrogantly stepped on the broken shower door and crushed the plastic frame beneath his feet. After the shower it was onto the clothes, his third favorite part of the morning. Everything he wore was a size XXL and up, yet it still seemed to be no match for his hulking muscle boy body. The once super sized varsity football tank barely even reached the upper part of the teens hairy brick plated abs. It was all caught between the teens boulder sized hairy pecs which seemed to almost stretch over a foot off his breast cage, nipples the size of fucking pancakes, the most immense canyon of hair and muscle. Next came his fully tailored briefs, white just the way he liked them. The pouch was specifically designed for the teens heavy nut suck and enormously large foot long cock. Truth be told though, as crazy as it sounded, his manhood was almost starting to look comically average when compared to the size of his gigantic muscle body, small even. Even though Zach was a little disappointed that it had seemed to stop growing like it once did, there was a small satisfaction knowing that he managed to make MELON sized testicles look small. By the time Zach got downstairs for breakfast, he was the definition of obscenity. After his briefs, the giant teen had somehow manage to squeeze himself into his last remaining pair of custom 46X38 jeans. His dad nearly choked on his coffee watching the morning news. Even though he lived with the giant muscle teen twenty four seven, nothing could have prepared him for the way that Zach looked this morning. “You see something you like old man?” Zach taunted, flexing one his gigantic arms. He knew what his dad was looking at, it was the same thing he was always looking out. While his father was mostly straight, he recently learned that the man was a total fag for big muscle arms, and now that his monster teen biceps were a record breaking 28 inches in size, chiseled like some hairy fucking mountain of muscle, engorged in the most disgusting display of vascularity, he knew there was no way his dad would stand a chance. Zach just arrogantly whiffed his own pitts, watching his father's crotch bulge between his jeans. It really was only a matter of time before the old man would crack. Eighteen years old and he was already among some of the biggest muscle studs in the world. He was literally a factory of testosterone, dripping with power, effortlessly packing on more muscle and hair then most bodybuilders could ever dream of. "How b-big are they now s-son...?" His dad could barely ask the question. Zach menacingly thumped a little closer. It must have been his undersized white tank and swollen blue jeans that was making his dad really whimper today. He knew it really was the perfect choice of outfit to show off his unstoppable growing teenage physique. He never understood why so many muscle men hid beneath their baggy gym clothes all day when they could look like this. The clothes were so tight, so painted onto his super roided out muscle-boy body that you could even see detail in his rock hard nipples and firehose sized cock. After all It was because of this his own old man was literally sitting there in his recliner with a full on erection beneath his jeans; no remorse, no hiding, he had totally lost it over his big muscle boy. The drool just wept from his dad’s lips like an endless river, I mean school girls had more control than this. That’s not to say there wasn’t a small part of Zach that was totally getting off on this moment. After all what son doesn't look forward to totally dwarfing their dad when they grow up. “Why don't you take a guess" Zach finally decided to start, raising one of his meaty muscle boy arm. His triceps hung there like huge hairy slabs of meat, while his bicep, it was like looking at a mountain of muscle, swelling bigger with every passing second. The young teen smirked as his unmatchable and magnificent muscle peak went flexing past his own eye level, swelled beyond his own head, squeezed into his own face. It was long until the freaky mammoth peak reach it's full and daunting size of 28 inches. “O-oh my g-god, LOOK at it!!” His father stuttered pathetically "Ooooh yeah that's right, biceps bigger than your fucking waist!” Zach squeezed his bicep that much bigger. It was then he looked down with a sneer and watched it happen like clock work. His fathers cock, like every other man’s, began throbbing faster and faster between his legs; the size of his young muscles, the enormity of his pits, the sheer stench of his musk, even the straightest of men couldn’t handle it. His dad just shamefully began blowing what had to have been the biggest load of his adult life, right in between his own jeans. He clenched the sides of his armchair as he continued to look up, struggling to hold back his cries of pleasure. "You know I'm going to outgrow this entire house right dad?" “Breakfast!" His mom shouted "Yes!!" Zach said with excitement. The teen rested his giant arm, leaving his now humiliated father to soak in his own shame. The entire house now made that daunting thump as he took each hulking step towards the completely loaded breakfast table. His mother like most mornings had prepared a meal large enough for a whole feast; pancakes, sausage, eggs, bacon, potatoes, all piled up like endless rolling hills, enough for ten people at least. Zach felt his large cock bloat between his monster legs like it always did before a feast. The notion that every bit of this food would soon turn into raw muscle was such a get off. He couldn’t wait to get in there and stuff his face so he could grow even more. “Thanks for breakfast mom” Zach gently kissed her on the forehead "w-wow just look at you this morning" Just like his father, his mom seemed to have an extreme attraction for certain parts of the male physique. For years he had been catching her stare down at his monster muscle thighs and epic bubble butt, but just like his dad, this morning she couldn’t resist from full on “deer in headlights” mode. She was especially glancing at his hefty horse-sized teenage package. Zach smirked having to admit his lower half was ridiculously gigantic, in fact it was almost becoming a struggle to walk. He figured, in the same unorthodox fashion as earlier, that he would give his mother an equally as impressive show. “You like these legs mom?” Zach widened his stand, slowly beginning to flex his guerilla sized thighs. It was only a matter of seconds before the blue denim began to snap and tear along what was probably the most muscular legs in the human race. Zach eagerly watched her awestruck face as the first tear had formed along his right leg. The denim fabric was practically painted onto his skin at this point. You could see everything, absolutely every freaky detail of his monstrously out of control thighs. There wasn't a single doubt that they had to 38 inches of bone crushing hairy muscle, yet there they were growing bigger, beefier! SNAP “Ooooh yeah…” SNAP “Get a load of this mom!!” Zach chuckled like a kid at Christmas. Both seams had blown open, relieving only momentary pressure. Lucky for him though, it was far from over. As the arrogant stud flexed even further, It wasn’t long before the rest of the blue denim threads began snapping away off his jeans like power-lines in a thunderstorm. His mom squealed and covered her mouth as the most monstrous hairy thighs began squeezing out of his large denim jeans. Zach had to keep adjusting his stance wider and wider to accommodate the irregular amount of size his ultimate leg flex was taking on. They already had to be a freaky 39, maybe even 40 inches of solid muscle, biggest on the planet! Within his own two feet spread almost further apart than he could bare, the large bulging zipper that contained his jaw breaking cock BURST open. THUMP His mom fainted. “Is she ok!?” His little brother spoke up, watching the whole spectacle from the large breakfast table. When Zach finally turned around, his little brother could see why there mother fainted. Between his barely held together jeans was the teens giant manhood stretching his white briefs between the gaping zipper hole. The poor kid couldn’t even grasp how anyones cock could ever achieve such size. The enormous and freaky cock head looked bigger than his own fist, a piss slit so huge you could stick your tongue down it. “You know I’m starting to think my clothes aren’t going to last through the day...” That’s all Zach said. He knew his giant cock was tenting his briefs through his jeans, exposed for his little brother to lay his scrawny virgin eyes on, but he didn’t care. He looked back down at the opulent breakfast feast and felt his stomach rumble with immense hunger. He began walking forward, feeling the house truly thump this time. Dishes in the cupboards rattles, the floorboards beneath his giant feet almost bent. He knew colossal thighs must have been approaching near the immobile territory. There was such strain and heft to his footsteps, enough even to make Zach wonder just how much bigger he could grow. As he pulled out one of the chairs, even attempting to sit down almost seemed to be struggle. His thighs were just swollen against one another. He widened his stance once more, wrapped his legs around the specially reinforced seat. You could hear his remaining clothes crack and strain. It was always the sound people heard before the teen would burst through his own clothes, before thousands of more dollars would be spent trying to keep him looking somewhat normal and decent. "How much you want to bet I could eat this whole thing Jeremy?" He said with a cocky grin, watching his little brother poke away at small plate of food. With one of his huge burly hands he lifted one of the serving plates up to his face. His monstrous cock just bulged even bigger underneath his briefs as he gazed his hunger upon 24 deliciously scrambled eggs. With one of the now seemingly small forks on the table he began wolfing them down his throat. Only a few minutes later he moved onto the meats, the potatoes, and finally finished off with the pancakes. Of course with all this new fuel being added to his body, Zach started to slowly grow once more. As he consumed what must have been over 20 pounds of food, what remained of his jeans began tearing away hopelessly. He didn’t even have to flex this time, even move, he was just getting bigger! RIIIIIIIIPPPPPP "Fuck yeah, look me grow little bro!" Zach was so unapologetic. He continued to eat like a beast, packing on muscle faster and faster, scarfing down every last bit of food on the table. He even grabbed his brother left overs and lifted the plate to his mouth, dumping the food into his mouth like some dump trunk, finishing it all off with one loud gulp. SNAP The chair collapsed. With his now unimaginable weight, it sounded as if a bomb went off as he went crashing to the floor. His little brother just squealed as the hardwoods beneath his global butt exploded upward, the dust and plaster from the ceiling went falling to the ground, and the walls and windows surrounding the kitchen cracked; It felt as if a fucking 6.0 earthquake had just hit the house, yet It was really just one teens accidental destruction. Zach just laughed arrogantly, slowly picking himself back up. His tank had ripped free during the incident, and what little denim remained on his legs soon began to rip free as he stood up. Standing there now in just his barley strapped on briefs, Zach looked around realizing he must have now stood almost 7’5”! “I think I’m going to have to start thinking of a new goal with the way this house is shrinking so fast...” Zach laughed deeply. The excitement of his impending demolition of his childhood home was getting him so rock hard he couldn’t bare to stop. Jeremy nearly pissed his pants as his own gigantic brother raised both of his large arms in the air. So powerful they seemed, yet you could tell there was significantly more of a struggle to move then there was before. Zach knew within an instant that extreme immobility was beginning to take place. There was no longer a space reserved for the him to wash his hair or even scratch his neck. It was just muscle swelling into muscle. Zach teased though anyways, playfully trying to demonstrate a simple crab pose from his onlooking kid-brother. He barely got half way before his biceps squeezed into his face, his elbows bumped into the ceiling above. His biceps had to to be well over 34 inches at this point, so big in fact they threatened to crush his own face like a grapefruit. Unlike most men though who would cower in fear over this situation, Zach just snickered, and reached his tongue out for one massive worshipping lick. "You know I think I can guess what muscles you like most..." Zach sneered down at his brother “... you like my pecs don’t you?” Zach thumped closer, towering over two feet taller than the barely adolescent teenager. With one of his big hairy knuckled hands he relentlessly squeezed one of his boulder sized furry pecs like some crazed muscle worship video. He almost felt bad taunting him like this, the kid was always so nice, so supporting of his insatiable desires. The fact was though, even a boy of his age wanted to see something like this. “You know I can barely see below them...” Zach chuckled “That’s not to say I don’t want them bigger though” Zach gripped his fist together in front of him, purposely ballooning his mountainous pectorals almost two feet off his breast cage. With the small whimper his brother seemed to release, he knew this was his muscle of choice. It was only a few seconds of growth before Zach literally couldn’t see below them. He grinned with a freaky satisfaction knowing that he would no longer be able to see his own two feet, suck on his own cock, do anything remotely normal. He just proudly kept on growing them until they became so enormous, so astronomically huge, that even his own chin helplessly started to be pushed up. “Are these big enough for you yet little bro!?!” Jeremy whimpered. He had always admired the superheroes in movies with a nice thick set of pecs, but this was taking things to a whole new level. Massive rolling hills of hairy muscle, bigger then fucking tires, now hung from his macro-addicted big brother’s chest. He wanted to lick and worship every inch of this chest, suck on those rock hard freaky sized nipples. As he thought about this though, he heard the strain of something below. He gulped and slowly looked down, not wanting to almost see what he knew had been growing... “Ooooh yea, DIG IT little brother” SNAP Zach’s briefs went exploding onto Jeremy’s head. The poor kid whimpered as the most horrendously musky and pre-cum soaked fabric covered his face. The smell that crept into his young nose was intoxicating, so musky and yet sweet he almost didn’t want to stop smelling. After what must have been finally a few minutes, Jeremy reached up pulled down the yellow cum stained fabric, witnessing the tremendous thump of his brothers head hitting the ceiling. Zach casually reached up and pushed his hands against the ceiling. There was that extra moment you could tell he thought about it, what he was really doing. It was short lived, because only a few seconds later, that thought turned into delightful chuckle. “It’s time the world witnesses a new god...” And with that, Zachary, outgrew his house.
  11. muscleson

    Muscle House - Part 2

    Part 1 Part 2 – House Tour Joey and his new muscle bros guzzled their celebratory protein shakes, or at least Joey tried to. He struggled to ingest the one-gallon shake, while Bruno, Damon, and Hunter chugged them easily. He marveled at how quickly they finished, as they slammed down their jugs, wiped their mouths, and smacked their muscle guts in delight. “C’mon Joey, you gotta drink that whole thing,” demanded Bruno. Joey blushed. “It’s too much, I don’t know how you guys do it.” Bruno chuckled. “If you wanna get big, you gotta down it. Let me show you bro.” He moved in front of Joey and held the jug to his mouth. “Open wide bro.” Joey opened his mouth while Bruno started to pour the shake into it. “Chug! Chug! Chug!” they chanted while Joey swallowed mouthful after mouthful. Joey nearly choked, but he managed to drink the whole thing. “Fuck yeah bro!” they cheered and smacked him on his newly distended belly. His stomach was bloated, but he felt amazing. “Good job bro! Now let’s give you a tour of the place,” said Bruno. “You’ve seen the living room, and this obviously is the kitchen and dining room.” Tubs of protein powder lined the counters and a vast array of supplements and packaged foods stuffed the pantry. “We spend a lot of time here eating and cooking. We do meal prep on Sundays.” He opened the gigantic fridge door to reveal a mountain of meal containers and other food jammed inside. Joey gulped at the amount of food these guys ate and that he was about to eat. “I know it looks like a lot of food bro, but you’ll get used to it after a while. You’ll even get hungry for it.” “Let’s go upstairs to the bedrooms bro.” Bruno led the way, waddling along as his massive thighs moving around each other and his huge glutes bounced up and down. Joey’s cock throbbed at the sight. When they reached the top of the stairs, Bruno opened the first door. “So, this is will be your room bro.” Joey stepped in and was hit with that same scent of testosterone from before, making his cock twitch. The room was fully furnished and the walls were covered with pictures of bodybuilders, all flexing and posing. A few dumbbells laid on the floor. Dirty jockstraps and posers were strewn about the bed. “Sorry about the mess, bro. The guy living here just turned pro and had to move out real quick to go work with his new sponsor. So, he didn’t have time to take a lot of his things. We’ll clean it up before you move in.” Joey walked around the room, his cock getting hard at the sight of it all. “That’s ok, bro. You can leave it. I’ll take care of it.” “Sure bro!” Bruno responded. “C’mon, I’ll show you the other rooms.” They made their way down the hall and peered into the next doorway. The smell of testosterone was even thicker in there. “This is Damon and Hunter’s room.” It looked almost identical to the last room, complete with bodybuilder pics, weights, and dirty posers. “I thought everyone got their own room here,” Joey inquired. “There’s only three bedrooms and they don’t mind sharing. Helps on rent and bills and stuff,” replied Bruno. Joey noticed that the room only contained one bed. But it was a California king, so it looked like they could both fit in it. Further down the hall, they passed the bathroom. “This is the upstairs bathroom. We all share it, but there’s another one downstairs if you need it.” It looked normal enough, but Joey did notice a lot of syringes and vials on the counters. Was that what he thought that was? “And over here is my room.” Bruno turned sideways to fit through the doorway and entered. Joey followed, but without having to turn. The testosterone smell was the strongest here. Joey felt weak in the knees. The room was similar to the others, but larger. A massive bed sat on one wall and a platform surrounded by full length mirrors sat on the other. “What’s that for?” asked Joey, pointing to the platform. “Oh, that’s for posing practice. You can see yourself at all angles with the mirrors. Check it out.” Bruno tore off his tank, stood on the platform and struck a front lat spread. His hands set firmly at his waist, he spread his thick lats wide, grunting as he did so. Joey’s dick pushed hard against his jeans, making a visible tent. Bruno didn’t seem to notice as he was admiring his own muscles in the mirror. “Fuck bro, that’s fuckin’ sick! Come feel how fuckin thick my wings are!” Joey couldn’t believe what he heard and froze in place. “Bro, get over here and feel how big my lats are!” Bruno ordered. Joey obeyed and hurried over. He tentatively reached out and put his fingers on Bruno’s lats. They felt hard and dense, without an ounce of fat. “Go on, really feel them!” Bruno flexed harder with a deep grunt. Joey’s cock was throbbing as he squeezed Bruno’s muscles. They felt so strong and tough. He wanted to lick them. “Yo, Bruno! It’s time to train!” shouted Damon from downstairs. “Be right down, bro!” replied Bruno. “Looks like I can show you the last part of the house, bro.” “What’s that?” Joey removed his hand from Bruno’s body and adjusted his cock in his pants. “Our basement gym.” Bruno smiled cockily as they headed downstairs. Next - House Gym
  12. muscleson

    Muscle House - Part 1

    Muscle House Part 1 – House Hunting Joey was starting his second year of college but wanted to live off-campus instead of in the dorms. While searching the want ads, he found a listing that caught his eye. “House full of muscle bros looking for a fourth roommate. Have own private room but must be willing to share in household duties and supplies. Don’t have to be huge, but must be into bodybuilding. Chill, laid-back vibe here. Open house today from 2-4.” Joey was intrigued with the idea of living with all muscle bros. He loved working out and was attracted to muscular guys. But he wasn’t very big, let alone the size of a bodybuilder. He wondered if they would even consider him. But, he decided to swing by the open house and check it out. He nervously climbed the steps and timidly knocked on the door. Heavy footsteps approached from the other side. The door swung open to reveal a huge, muscular bro wearing a sports tank, gym shorts, and a backwards baseball cap. A dopey smile crossed his square jawed face as he greeted Joey in a deep voice. “Hey bro! You here for the open house?” “Uh, yeah,” he mumbled while standing awkwardly. “All right, man! Come on in!” the bro bellowed as he flexed an arm. “Name’s Bruno!” “I’m Joey.” He anxiously entered while eyeing Bruno’s hard, dense bicep. As he moved into the entryway, the intoxicating smell of testosterone hit his nose. The hormone filled his lungs, making him feel light-headed and dizzy. He steadied himself for a second and then walked into the living room. Two other big muscled bros were lounging on enormous couches while watching a bodybuilding show on tv. They were dressed similarly to Bruno and displayed his same dopey expression. Their glazed eyes were glued to the oiled-up bodybuilders on the screen while they mindlessly flexed their pecs. “Hey bros, this little bro here is Joey,” announced Bruno. They snapped to attention and turned their thick heads to look at Joey. “That’s Damon and Hunter.” “Sup man!” they boomed while each flexing an arm. Joey stared at their swollen biceps. His cock started to twitch at the sight of all that muscle. They both turned back around and refocused on the bodybuilding show. “So, you into bodybuilding bro?” asked Bruno, looking Joey up and down. Joey never felt so small in his life. These bros were giants compared to him. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I’m obviously not a bodybuilder, but I follow it. And I like to work out. I know I’m not that big, but…” Joey trailed off. “Hey man, you look good for your size. Let’s see your guns.” Joey stood there blankly. “C’mon man, flex your bicep.” Slowly, Joey raised his arm and meekly flexed his arm. Bruno reached out and grabbed Joey’s small, but defined bicep with his big meaty hand. “Squeeze it tighter, let me really feel it bro.” Joey flexed harder, making his bicep swell up and harden. “Nice bro. You’ve got a good base. If you lived here, we could help you get bigger.” “Really?” Joey’s face lit up. “Oh yeah, bro. We could help you with training, food, and supplements. You’d be packing on some serious muscle in not time.” Joey’s dick throbbed as he imagined training with these bros and getting big with them. “But, you’d have to be willing to live like a bodybuilder. It’s a whole lifestyle bro, 24/7. That means eating a ton, training hard, and doing whatever it takes to get big. Could you do that bro?” Joey pondered for a second. He always wanted to get big, but he never thought about what it took to really get there. It all seemed so unattainable. Yet, if these muscle bros could show him how to grow big like them, then maybe… “Yeah, bro. I could do that. I could live like a bodybuilder.” “Fuck yeah, bro!” Bruno raised both his arms into a double bicep pose. “You hear that bros, Joey here is gonna become one of us!” “Fuck yeah!” echoed Damon and Hunter. They rose from the couch and lumbered over. Joey was surrounded by a wall of muscle, nearly making his dick pop out of pants. “C’mon bros, let’s celebrate our new roomie with a protein shake!” They all made their way to the kitchen while Joey smiled from ear to ear. Part 2
  13. MrMuscleJake

    One Fateful Night (Part 3 07.10)

    Hey everyone, long time lurker here. This will be my first story here but I love to write so I hope to create many parts to this. There is no growth in this first section, but there will be a bunch in future installments. It will be more of a romantic slow-burn (think in the vein of AJ & Noah). Let me know what you think, I appreciate any feedback! * PART 1 * Caleb sits on the train heading towards the city center, just like every Friday night. People are milling around him, making room for the latest passengers and shifting to let the stragglers out. Feeling a vibration from his pocket, Caleb opens up his phone to see if someone has messaged him. A couple notifications pique his interest, which is quickly dashed as he clicks on them to discover they’re nothing more than people too old for him or too horny for him. Sighing discontentedly, Caleb slips his phone back into his pocket and takes stock of the latest batch of newcomers to the train. Standing a couple meters away with his back to Caleb is a promising specimen. He looks to be about the same height as himself, he’s dressed sharply in a figure fitting jacket and dark jeans that accentuate a trim waistline, and his closely dropped blonde hair, practically white, is coiffed to the side in an effortless yes classic style. The blonde reaches for his phone in his back pocket, drawing Caleb’s attention to his beautiful ass. It wasn’t the biggest ass Caleb had ever seen, but then, neither was the gentleman. His butt was simply well shaped, whether by training or by gifted genetics was beyond telling, and accentuated by the dark jeans. Caleb quickly looks at the other passengers to avoid revealing his interest, instead letting his peripheral vision monitor the stranger. He hopes the man will turn around so he can see if the front of the stranger is as equally attractive as the back, but in such a tight space, it isn’t likely to change any time soon. As fate would have it, the subway car pulls into the next station and the doors quickly open. A number of passengers exit, but one woman taps the man on the shoulder, asking to get by. As the man turns to allow the woman through, Caleb is granted vision of his side profile, stealing Caleb’s proverbial breath away. He is wearing glasses and the subtle stubble is groomed perfectly to accentuate a square and prominent jaw. The jacket protrudes ever so slightly around the man’s chest, just enough to hint that this guy frequents the gym. A slight bulge in his jeans also betrays a hefty package, and judging by the rest of the ensemble, this guy knows exactly what he’s doing to make himself look as mouth watering as possible. Caleb notices what appears to be the tips of a tattoo sneaking out of the jacket sleeve and onto the back of the stranger’s palms. As the woman leaves, she mutters a quick thank you, which the stranger returns with a gleaming smile and rich baritone voice, perhaps that of a singer or a trained orator. As the train doors close, the hunky blonde remains facing the same direction, but shifts into a more comfortable position by placing the weight onto his left leg, resting against the back of the seat across from Caleb. Caleb again averts his eyes hoping not to betray any intention of checking the guy out, but cannot avoid moving his eyes slowly across the man, choosing things in the background to read that allow him the opportunity to continue gawking. A robotic female voice announces the next stop: downtown. Caleb prepares to stand and notices the guy in front of himself also turning around, readying himself to depart. Rising along with his hopes, Caleb shuffles out behind the couple people between him and his target. The man leads the group of passengers to the escalator and everyone follows him, stepping on and slowly ascending to the surface above. At the top of the escalator, the crowd scatters into the larger crowd that is downtown. Caleb continues to follow the man towards the club, eager to see if their destination is the same. Squeezing through the crowd, Caleb soon sees the sign for the club and the bouncers outside checking ID’s. The blonde approaches the bouncers and flashes an ID card before the bouncers allow him to pass. Caleb does the same and follows into the club, already packed nearly to capacity. Mystery guy quickly stops off at the beer to grab something, but Caleb can’t hear the guy’s voice over the deafening bass of the club. The bartender returns shortly with a small beer, which the guy immediately takes a large swig of. Caleb follows suit and approaches the bar as the blonde pushes his way deeper into the club. “I’ll have what he had,” Caleb shouts to the bartender, motioning generically in the direction of his dream guy. Like clockwork, the bartender returns with the beer and Caleb pays, turning to see if he can find the blonde. Pushing through the crowd, he eventually sees the stud taking another sip of his beer, gently swaying and bopping along with the beat. Caleb pushes close to him, but far enough away to not arouse any suspicion, not that anyone in the club was paying any attention to either of them. Caleb takes a sip of his drink and starts to dance as well. Several songs bleed together and Caleb admires his quarry from afar. The seething crowd eventually places Caleb dangerously close to the blonde twunk, but Caleb accepts it and continues to dance. The guy is gyrating his hips along with the music and pumping his fist in the air when appropriate, which Caleb also does. All Caleb can imagine is dancing closer to him and jumping alongside him. As the song crescendos, the rowdier people behind Caleb begin jumping and one of them inadvertently shoves Caleb forward, sending him into the twunk. Neither of them falls over thanks to the sheer volume of people they fall against, but Caleb’s hand is pressed directly against the guy’s pec for a solid three seconds before they stand upright again. “I’m so sorry!” Caleb shouts, his cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. “Don’t worry about it!” the guy shouts back. Caleb now notices the German accent in his voice. “People in here can get pretty crazy!” “Yeah, definitely!” The guy says something to Caleb, but an electronic distortion makes it too hard to hear for Caleb. “What?” The guy leans in closer, his mouth practically against Caleb’s ear. “I’m Lukas!” “Caleb!” “Nice to meet you!” Lukas shouts, adding an extra wink. “Likewise!” Caleb says, trying to hide his shock. He can count the number of times somebody has winked at him on one hand, unless he counts his family. Lukas seems to notice Caleb’s slight discomfort and grins. He leans in close again, grazing Caleb’s ear with a stubbly lip. “Can I get you another drink?” Caleb looks down at his glass and sees it is nearly finished. “You don’t have to do that!” “No, it’s no problem!” Caleb sighs and gives in. He quickly finishes off his drink. “Ok!” Lukas pulls away and heads back to the bar. Caleb can hardly believe it. This isn’t a gay bar, is Lukas just being polite or is he actually gay? What are the odds of that happening? How many guys has he had a crush on and how many of them have turned out to be gay? Caleb’s head is spinning and his heart is pounding. This has to be some kind of cultural difference, right? Moments later, Lukas comes back bearing two fresh glasses and hands Caleb one of them. “Thank you!” Caleb shouts. “Bitte schön!” Lukas says. They smile at each other and continue to dance. Lukas dances closer and closer to Caleb as the songs come. His eyes roam up and down Caleb’s body and Caleb’s eyes glide over Lukas’. “Where are you from?” “I’m originally from America but now I live on the east side of town, kind of in the outskirts. What about you?” Caleb asks. “I am from here, my family lives in the village on the other side of the river, so I grew up here.” “That’s cool!” “Thanks! How did you decide to come to Germany?” Lukas asks, just a hint of skepticism in his voice. In Caleb’s experience, every German finds it incredibly difficult to see Germany as a desirable place to live. “What’s not to love? The culture, the language, the history, sexy European boys…” Caleb says, trailing off suggestively. Lukas grins. “You think Germans are sexy?” “What can I say? I love tall, blonde studs with foreign accents!” “Then you should go to Sweden. It is even better there than in Germany.” “Maybe, but I don’t like the snow. And besides, they don’t teach Swedish in American schools. Though to be fair, they barely teach any languages in American schools these days.” Lukas chuckles to himself. “Yes it is not common to see Americans living here.” “Guess I’m one of the special ones,” Caleb says. “Yes, I think you are,” Lukas says. Caleb blushes and Lukas flashes his award-winning smile. Caleb can’t recall the last time a smile has had such an effect on him. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s the man the smile is attached to, or perhaps it’s the pervasive sense of loneliness and hopelessness of finding someone, or maybe a combination of everything. Whatever the exact source is, Lukas’ smile gives Caleb a sense of stillness, like it is opening up the hurricane around them to create an eye big enough just for the two of them. As the night goes on, Caleb and Lukas continue to dance and do their best to have a conversation amidst all the chaos. Caleb notices his usual nerves just melt away and words have never come easier to him. All he wants is to lean in and kiss Lukas, but he could never be so forward so quickly. Instead, as the night starts to wind down, Caleb and Lukas leave the club and walk back towards the train station. “I had a really nice time in there,” Caleb says. “Ja, I had a good time as well. I don’t often meet such cute boys in these clubs,” Lukas says. Caleb winces a little internally at being called cute. He knows certain types of people are really into his specific look, but Caleb wishes beyond anything that he could change it. He has always felt like he wasn’t enough for people. He was always one of the skinniest people around, never the tallest, never the hottest, not even among the cutest. He knows he can be kind of cute if he styles his hair and takes care of his skin, but attached to such an unremarkable body, all he would ever be is a forgettable twink. “There are guys way better looking than me there. I know because I’m looking at one right now,” Caleb says dejectedly. Lukas smiles reassuringly, melting away some of Caleb’s insecurities but adding a few new ones. The two of them enter the train and sit down next to each other. “Don’t say that, you are very cute. And thank you. But you do not need to compare yourself to me or to any other people. You are cute, it is true, but you have something else too, and that is kindness and sympathy. You are real and honest, and that is something better to have than the handsomest face or the biggest muscles.” “Yeah but some big muscles wouldn’t hurt would they?” Caleb says, softly punching Lukas’ pec and gritting his teeth awkwardly. Immediately, Caleb feels a surge of embarrassment at his brashness. Lukas chuckles and looks down at his pec. “My muscles are not that big,” Lukas says, rubbing his chest tenderly, feigning pain and insult. “Better than what I’ve got,” Caleb says. “Well, that can easily be fixed. Just hit the gym some more and you’ll be huge in no time,” Lukas says. “Ha, I wish. Too bad there isn’t some magical elixir to do it all for me.” Lukas looks like he’s about to say something, but the electronic woman’s voice comes over the speakers, announcing Lukas’ stop. “Naja, this is my stop. Would you like to text via WhatsApp?” “Sure,” Caleb says, pulling his phone out and exchanging it with Lukas. The two of them enter their numbers in each others’ phones as the train pulls into the station. Lukas and Caleb hug each other goodbye and Lukas leaves. Caleb watches Lukas walk towards the stairs through the windows as the train starts to move again. Caleb sits back down and thinks about how lucky he was to have met Lukas. Somehow fate had smiled upon him tonight. After arriving at his station, Caleb exits the train and walks up the stairs to the street. He walks along the street contemplating everything when he accidentally kicks something. Looking down, Caleb sees a glass bottle, but this one is full of some blue liquid and it hasn’t been opened. Out of curiosity, Caleb picks up the bottle and written on the label in big bubble letters are two words: MUSCLE JUICE
  14. This is, the longest and the most intense one-shot i wrote, by far. i don't know how it turned out, would love to see your opinions on it. (it will be my last story for a while, i'll miss you man) ---- I haven’t been seeing Max for a time now. Ever since I’ve known him he used to tell me, how much he desired to be bigger, and stronger. And I always answered the same, ‘if you put the effort, why not?’ But he never did. I called out to him countless times. But he never put the effort. He always ranted about how much he tried to get bigger, how unfair it was since his genetics ‘weren’t compatible’ with filling on muscle. But I don’t think, he even tried seriously. It was all just a sudden burst of motivation, snap ending with a steep fall in the mood. I digress, but, why is it so dark? Well, what do I know? Maybe he really wasn’t compatible with getting his body to better levels. Not genetically, but without a single suspicion, he wasn’t someone who can endure any kind of challenge. He wanted to be given, instead of taking it. That’s why I was the perfect candidate on friendship for him. Nobody, and I mean nobody could’ve listened to his rantings intently as I did. Nor could they have still try to help him after all this time. Why? Because I am doomed. Even though I have been accepted as a scholar genius from the get-go, I don’t think I am pragmatical enough. Or maybe I am too pragmatical on issues that don’t really need to be solved. Why? Because I am a slave to my fetishes. I don’t feel my body, at all, right now Whenever he talked eagerly about how big he was going to get, I listened to Max just as intently. Every time he tried to go into gym, I’ve been there to push him forward. If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t possibly have gotten a decent shape. Not that he is muscular or anything, but he is not a twig like me. I am slender, but I am not even exactly sure if that word is enough to address this. Even though I made tons of food just to get him bigger, I didn’t touch one of them. He always had an endless appetite. Though, most of them became a part of his slightly protruding belly. If I tried, just tried to even do one percent of what I have done for Max, I would’ve had a place in history. Instead, I am still behind his back like a tail. For what? Just to get his dream to reality. Maybe this is beyond fetishes at this point. Yeah, that seems alright. I love Max. And that’s my illness. Sickness? Mental disorder suits better. At some point in time, my fetish became an obsession on just one individual. Him. Most likely because of all the energy spent on him. Like a parent. And I know, he doesn’t care about me one bit. He just sees me as source of money, food, motivation. A pawn for his grandiose dream. This is not alright. I know. It never was alright. And maybe what happened was just the right thing. What happened? A flash of light. I must still be in coma, to not feel my body, but I don’t have dreams too. It is so dark. My consciousness somehow stayed fully open. And in spite of my status, it was Max who I was thinking about. How was he? Was he able to live without my help? Did he find someone to replace me? If yes, I would be happy. Then I could leave him, with a eased heart. But I didn’t believe it one bit. Nobody could be as obsessed with a narcissistic freebooter, as I was. At least, very few. He wasn’t a good looking person at the time. His nose was pointy, and his face had too much excess fat. With my money, he changed his face. Insanely, extremely, unbelievably different now. He looks like a model. But he still looks like a washout with his unshaved stubby beard, sweaty and dirty clothes, and a disproportionate belly (he always ranted angrily about how his fat was mostly collected in his stomach). But handsome when you look at him from physical perspective. With green eyes, curly medium black hair, genetically wider shoulders and a model-like face. So, what was I going to find when I woke up. Will he be maybe dead? Or will it be just like before? Maybe, he found a way to turn into the god he wanted to be? Yet, all of these weren’t exactly accurate. Because at some point, I opened my eyes. I couldn’t move my body yet, but it was slowly improving. And there I saw the most unimaginable scene. The least of the probables. The last thing that could’ve been thought of. He was sleeping in my hospital bed. No, not on it. He was literally with me under the curtain. His eyes were swollen and puffy. He must’ve been crying. For what? For losing the source of income? For losing the precious pawn? Then he shouldn’t have been here. He should’ve been lazing around, to maybe find someone new. So why here, with me? And his body… it was the worst. He had lost all the progress. It was slender. Looked sick as me, maybe sicker. It must’ve been a while. Only few hours passed for me. He murmured, in his sleep. “I miss you…” Why? Weren’t you supposed to be using me? Wasn’t I just a tool for you? Why are you sad?! I don’t wanna see you this sorrowful. Please, don’t care about me. If you love me, how can you live a life, how can you achieve your dreams? Are you out of your mind!? Did I break you like this? How can I forgive myself now… So I had done more harm than good? How can I die in peace with this knowledge? What if I die right now?! Do you have any idea how much of a despair I will be in? Don’t be this selfish!! Hate me, hate me with all your heart if necessary… I was crying. But tears didn’t appear. And it was silent. Screams echoed just inside my head, as my body stayed paralyzed. I needed to get up. I needed to solve this. I had to. … And you believed that? You really believed he was there? He wasn’t someone who knew what ‘liking’ meant. He had no heart. And the love was one sided, from me to him. When I woke up, doctors said, there wasn’t a single guest to my room. I wasn’t disappointed, it was what I expected after all. Like I said, I was always doomed. Max never came to look for me. Later I learned — after losing his earnings he went out of his way to look for jobs and became a model with the face I remade for him. He was still lazy, so they tossed him for his stably washout body. But he got a decent amount, to continue living like a trash. When I contacted him, he just said “Come to my apartment.” There, he didn’t even notice the change in my body, how weak I looked. He straight up started to explain his plan, nonchalantly. “I want you to help me get bigger.” He sat on the couch, and ate some fast-food while explaining. The food spitting out of his mouth, all the while. “With the help of a nerdy friend, we remade the machine. It can transfer masculinity from one body to another. And doesn’t even need the other body to be muscular. All I need is complete devotion, which nobody has… Except you, right?” he said, matter-of-factly. I nodded. But, for the first time felt anxious. This could be incredibly dangerous. I could die, right after returning from the brink of death. Oh, you didn’t know. Right… The reason I fell into a coma was because of Max trying the machine on me for a test run. It seemed they fixed it a little. He pulled me, as I grunted from pain because of the months of coma leaving me weak. He had retained his shape, thanks to the model agency forcing him to do so. There were two metal wristbands on the table. They looked side to side like a chainless cuff. “This is yours,” Max said as he threw it to me. I catched it, with an apprehensive look. He gave me an impatient look and gestured to my neck. Well, there wasn’t a need to prevent the inevitable. So I put it on. It suddenly shrunk to fit my thin neck, like a collar. He put it on too, but not onto his neck but his dick. It looked like a sci-fi penis ring, slightly hidden by his crouch hair. “So, what do we do?” I asked. He didn’t care to acknowledge the question and put his hand firmly on my shoulder to lead the way to his bedroom. The bed was too large for any human. It was as though made for giants. His whole house was hugely made. I bought them according to his specific instructions. He pushed me inside. Since I was already fragile, it must’ve felt like playing with a rag doll. After Max got rid of his pants and underwear he sat onto the bed and gestured me to turn back. The last glimpse of his face I got was a sinister smile. “Sit on my dick,” he said. I felt disoriented as I walked backwards to find his average penis. It had been a long time since I had any kind of masturbation. He liked me panting about how big he is when we had sex, that was the only reason of every sexual intercourse we had. When the stiff and hot rod found my ass crack, I adjusted it. I could see he was leaning backwards with his elbows, and watching me, doing nothing but smiling. I had hard time making it go in. Then started to instinctively talk about how big he is, and how much big he can get. They had a genuine tinge to them. Finally I was able to get it all in. I was on the bed, like a spider, but backwards. My arms ached as I tried to stay aloft. I was having harder time than usual. Like my body was already weak, I knew that already, but for some reason my energy levels dropped instantaneously. I, for the first time, moaned the first time. “Faster,” he breathed. Then suddenly thrusted upwards making me give take a dry breath. My arms were going to give up soon, but they felt even weaker than how they were. And a suffocating smell of musty sweat was filling my lungs, leaving me even more hopeless. Then I noticed something, I couldn’t get it out and in anymore. His dick was constantly in. That could only mean, it was getting longer, or I was getting smaller. Then I noticed my breasts, they were slowly protruding outwards, and my voice was getting higher and higher. My ass, juicy. His dick felt like a pillar now. Getting up and down felt like destroying my insides. I felt despairedly painful. It was like a taking a bat in. I couldn’t stay at the bed anymore, since it swung me up even more each moment. Then I heard him. Between my painful moans, noticed him. It was inevitable. The bed trembled with it. His voice, his shallow moan, felt like the moan of a lion. I looked back, and there he was. His back was rubbing the back of the bed, and his head was rising to the ceiling, meanwhile his feet firmly on the ground, knees slightly bent to keep fucking me. His arms were fuller than melons, no they were inexplicable. There were no words to describe the sheer power that was lurking there. As he got bigger, his arms slowly cracked the walls and went inside them. His chest was so huge, so full, he could hardly see me getting his giant dick inside me. My organs were moving up and down as I continued to get his dick inside me. He didn’t even need to make an attempt to kill me. I was doing it for myself. As my body shrank and became more feminine, fragile, his head wrecked the ceiling, and the bed broke down. My ass was widely opened by the melon sized tip. But I still continued to take it. I continued to move myself back and forward. And then, with a flex of his dick, I flew towards the ceiling. The precum held me there, but as his dick grew bigger, and more muscular, it reached me there. That was the first time I felt the horror truly. He suddenly started to smash his giant pillar on me, like I was a bug. I was getting more and more miniscule. And the ceiling once again broke. He was now filling two floors at the same time. I was smaller than a bug now. He looked like the entire world. I was so small, so broken. Noticing me, he laughed, and laughed. With flick of his finger his sent me to the last wall he still had to break. His legs already taking all the apartment, was having hard time to find more room. Covering the entire sky world for me. It was like looking at the sky, he was the entire atmosphere. His feet moved and squeezed me under his thumb, then between his thumbs, I shrank, as he grew so much. He groaned. “I need to release now…” he growled. With another flick of his, this time toes, I was now under his skyscraper dick. It smashed down, and again and again. Destroying my world. And at that moment, as he ejaculated a sea of cum, the building couldn’t hold on anymore. And I fell and fell. He was just standing as I was falling. When I looked above, I couldn’t shape things anymore, since I was now so small, the sky was now the texture of his feet. And it fell down on me, finally ending the pain.
  15. TonnyGiant

    "Godzilla Project"

    "Project Godzilla" Day 1. The first day was considered within the normal range according to the scientists. The first test subject was Regan, a Canadian bodybuilder. The results were BIG.
  16. photoguy

    Fraternal - P 8 up now

    Hey guys, Longtime lurker who’s finally decided to take the plunge. Not much exposition here - suffice it to say the characters are 18+ fraternal twin high school seniors, one of whom is developing a bit faster than the other... Anyway, definitely not literature; I just want us all to nut like crazy till we’re dehydrated. ************** Fraternal Part 1: Daydream Believer Matt stared off into space, blocking out the droning teacher, dreaming about his twin bro. Fuck, what if Derek kept growing? What if he shot up and out, towering over him, hitting 7’? His massive, sweaty muscles hulking with veins and striations, bulging and flexing rock hard with man power. He’d storm into their bedroom, casually breaking the door down with one massive fist, ducking down and turning sideways to squeeze through the opening... “What the fuck?!” “Sorry lil bro, but I got so fuckin horny workin out! I need your ass,” Derek growled, his deep bass voice matching his ruggedly handsome, thickly bearded teen face and gigantic body. His veiny monster dick was rock hard and leaking a thick rope of precum, slanted off to the side and ripping through the heavy material of his shorts. Derek flexed his abs and cock hard, blowing his shorts and jockstrap apart completely, his monster dick flipping upward and slinging precum onto his briefcase-sized pecs and into his thick teen beard. A big rope hung off his heavy mustache, right over the full lips, and his incredibly long powerful tongue unfurled to lap the salty goo off sensually. Derek strode over to the bed, his huge feet thudding. He reached down and grabbed Matt by the throat, his giant paw wrapping easily around the jock’s neck. He lifted his bro out of bed with one fluid motion, barely registering the weight on his hulking arm. He dangled Matt in midair. Their eyes were completely level, while Matt hung eight inches off the floor. “Enough talk. Fuck time!” Derek roared, flipping Matt around and impaling his beefy ass on the dripping, veiny 13” long x 3” diameter monster dick, the apple-sized cockhead busting past his glutes and stretching his ring wide open. Matt saw with horror in the mirror that he no longer had a tight puckered little manhole, but thanks to Derek’s repeated battering a gaping, sloppy, loose-lipped mancunt hung from his jock boy ass and hugged the giant meat wetly. His back arched as he begged for more, goading his twin into a frenzy of musclefucking, globs of hot precum belching out of his red, prolapsed, destroyed pussy, the massive cock distending his abs like some kind of alien invader. Matt watched through tears as Derek’s incredible girth dragged his guts inside out, filling him like no other man could. Suddenly Derek gripped his side hard with one huge paw, slamming Matt down until Derek’s dick was buried to the orange-sized balls. He flexed hard, a full body flex that made the veins on his muscles and cock surge, forcing him to grow outrageously bigger, stretching out Matt’s already wrecked asshole and lifting his body up. “Unnnf... so fuckin BIG...” he moaned, clamping his mancunt down and suddenly erupting like the fucktoy slut his bro’s muscle and dick had transformed him into. “Grrr, yeah, fuckin’ big.. an’ gettin’ BIGGER!” Derek growled, suddenly straightening up his towering body and flexing to appreciate his new height and power, Matt’s whole body weight supported easily by Derek’s steel-hard monster. Razor-cut striations jutted out even more across the insanely muscled expanse of this body, while veins pulsed and bulged even thicker. Fuck, Derek was noticeably bigger and leaner than he was earlier that day, bulging with raw masculinity and dripping with sweat. He felt Derek’s balls swell and tighten up as the first cannon blasts of cum began to batter his guts, his gaping pussy meat sliding up the veiny shaft from the force... RRRRING! Matt snapped to attention back in class, dick spent and dripping down his leg, as the bell rang.
  17. idealmuscle

    Genie Jafar

    Some of you may have come across this story within the ideas part of the forum. Giganticbeast gave the okay for people to expand this story. I love the character. Jafars lust for power was never truly captured in the film. Let's carry on Gigantic beasts work by carryong on the growth. Why not introduce other gods? Or savor in the growth a little longer. The Genie has more Power than you'll EVER HAVE! He gave you your power and he can take it away!" Aladdin said with a sneer, the young man playing this last hail marry struggling to outthink this powerful sorcerer. The genie and half drowned Jasmine stared in terror at this suggestion! Why would he suggest this powermad monster could gain MORE power!? "You're right...the genie's power DOES exceed that of my own.." the sorceror thought aloud, his serpent form snaking around the struggling street rat. His eyes lit up "That's it! Genie I have my FINAL wish!" He said, abandoning the giant snake form, returning to his former slender self, freezing Aladdin in place with a single wave of his hand. Aladdin sighed, watching the hourglass fill with sand, the poor princess Jasmine struggling for a breath, as Aladdin prayed this mad man would make his last wish already! The Genie tried to talk him out of it "hold on sir, mister megalomaniacal psychopath if you could just stop with the wishes that'd be greaaaaat" the blue genie adjusting his tie and fixing his glasses while standing beside a suddenly conjured cubicle wall. Another wave of the magicians hand obliterated the office space, and the sorcer wished "NOW Genie I wish to become an ALL POWERFUL-" taking a breath while Aladdin smirked, his cocky grin sickening the lithe old man, clearly the street rat THOUGHT he had a plan, what a fool! "ALL POWERFUL GOD" The man bellowed at the top of his lungs! Aladdin cockily dropping from the old man's spell as a blast of magic hit Jafar square in the chest! "Aren't you forgetting something Jafar? A genie has oh...wait...god!?" The Genie struggled to complete this wish, his energy draining as he continued to blast the old man, magic wracking through Jafar's lean body as he started to moan and groan from the increase in energies! "OH YES! you FOOL you think I would want to be a GENIE!? Why be a GENIE when one can be a GOD!" He doubled, losing focus enough to let Aladdin free. The youth freed Jasmine and dashed towards Jafar, scooping up a scimitar as he leaped through the air! Closing the distance and swinging the scimitar downward the blade was halted as if it stuck a block of steel! Aladdin opened his eyes nervously and stared at the thick muscled hand that now gripped the base of that blade showing no sign of harm! "OHHH YES....I can FEEL IT! Ohh the POWER! the fucking absolute POWER" he grunted as his twig of a forearm BULGED with rippling power, both Jafar and Aladdin watched the wave of growth rush over him! Travelling up his arm as his sleeve burst off! Individual rippling fibers of muscle swelling and BULGING with power as veins snaked up and down the dark toned skin! The old man standing and rising up and UP growing taller as his robes started to fray and stretch across his thickening form! Aladdin took a swing and another and ANOTHER, but the blade just bounced off the growing gods torso, cutting the stretched robe off, showing his skin changing to a deep red hue! "GO AHEAD and SWING street rat! OHHH Swing while you can! You FOOL! You fucking OHHHH GOD! WITLESS WASTE OF LIFE!" His shoulders bulging and swelling as he doubled in height lurching taller, his growth out of control and forcing his body to jerk and flex without any sign of stopping! His arms stretching down past his knees as he watched his body swell and grow like never before! thickening as his chest and lats continued to heave with every deep intensely pleasurable gasp of breath! The youth ran to the princesses side, watching as the man grew into the world's newest god! "OH THE UNIVERSE ITSELF WILL BOW BEFORE ME! MY IMMENSE MUSCLES CAN REND THE VERY FABRIC OF REALITY!" he grunted as a single flex of his pecs caused the princesses' clothes to literally vanish! He turned and threw his arms up into a double Bi pose, as his monstrous peaks bulged, Aladdin let out a shriek of pain shrinking in size and shape until he was nothing more than a baby! The towering, still growing god's grunts were only getting louder and more powerful by the second as the genie completed the ultimate wish! His blue form literally fading out of existence as his powers were completely drained! "WELL PRINCESS LOOKS LIKE YOUR REAL MAN IS NOTHING MORE THAN A MERE CHILD! AS I WARNED YOU!" He laughed his voice dropping so deep as his shredded rags of robes finally exploded off the towering muscle man's 15ft frame! The orgasmic feeling of this growth was so intense even HE was caught off guard! Jasmine let out a gasp watching his thick legs slowly dissipate, the muscled tree trunks becoming more ethereal as the transformation was progressing just out of control! The hulking behemoths shoulders bulged once again larger, swelling up against his ears as his jaw grew more square and pecs heaved upwards pressing against the base of his chin, almost swallowing his head! A loud CRASH echoed as the red skinned GOD grew right up against the brass domed ceiling! "YOU CANNOT STOP A GOD YOU FOOLS! THIS WORLD IS MINE! ALL POWERFUL! UNSTOPPABLY HUGE! I CAN'T FUCKING STOP GROWING!" He grunted, his body from the waist down merely a swirling maelstrom of gas and cloud until the lusty ever growing beast reached downward and simply started stroking the air itself. The red clouds of aether started to swirl and grow, stretching from his waist into the form of a monstrous cock! Thickening and growing between his hands, soon bigger than his own arm and growing more massive by the second! "YES PRINCESS I BET YOU WISHED YOU MARRIED ME NOW DIDN'T YOU?!" he asked as he pushed up through the roof of the palace, his cock growing to his pecs! "YOU ARE RIGHT THOUGH I'M NOT A REAL MAN, I"M A GOD! A GROWING ALL POWERFUL GOD!" he moaned as merely GAZING upon him sent the princess into a furious orgasm crumpled up as the all powerful Jafar continued to grow! Rising up from the ruins of the palace he continued to swell and GROW into the cool night sky! his moans echoing so loudly as he watched the once great city shrink below him! "TO THINK I MERELY WANTED TO RULE THIS CITY! I NOW RULE ALL OF EXISTENCE! A TRUE GOD! AN ALL POWERFUL MUSCLEBOUND GOD!" he laughed his deep voice booming so loudly the earth quaked and the sandy ground cracked open and swallowed up entire houses in the city! People staring upwards as the night sky was FILLED with this hulking flexing monstrosity! He smiled a wicked grin as his cock bulged against his monstrous pecs "GO AHEAD YOU PITIFUL MORTALS WORSHIP ME, CUM ALL OF YOU! NOW" he barked and with a single thought drove every human on earth into a simultaneous orgasm. It's only fair given the dark terrible things he planned on doing to them all...
  18. Florida20

    Super Soldier (Chapter 10)

    Chapter 1 Chapter 2-4 Chapter 5-6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 CHAPTER 10 I felt my gut freeze as the calming hand I had on his shoulder involuntarily squeezed Lewis's delt hard enough to make him wince. "He what?" I asked then waved Lewis off when he tried to repeat himself. "How?" I asked more importantly. Lewis's eyes shifted down. "Damon told him," he said. “And who the fuck is Damon?” I bellowed. Lewis opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off with a more important question. "And why the fuck did he give one to your that deranged psycho?" "It's three AM,” a sleep-ridden voice barked from the door next to mine. “Could you guys shut the fuck u--" The neighbor cut off when it saw the two of us. Apparently seeing two bodybuilders, one visibly naked even in the dim hallway light, was enough to make him reconsider how pissed off he really was. He let his eyes linger on me a little longer than he probably intended before turning and shutting the door behind him. Now wasn't the time for unwanted attention. I pulled Lewis in by the shoulder I was still squeezing and shut the door before turning on the light. After getting over our momentary blindness, I started digging through my drawers for clothes that wouldn’t rip apart the moment I put them on. "Fuck!" I cursed as I settled on a set of Navy-issued sweats. They’d feel like a sauna in the desert heat outside but a little physical discomfort was nothing compared to the mental warfare going on in my head right now. My gut was a ball of ice and fire and, by his stunned expression, so was Lewis's. His stunned and vacant expression while I dressed sent me into a rage. “TALK!” I ordered. Words suddenly began falling out of Lewis’s mouth in torrents, with such little structure or coherency I had to stop him twice and tell him to start over. I slowly pieced together that Damon was one of the three other friends who had taken the canister when Lewis had. Whitaker had found him alone and had pressured the information out of the weak-minded bastard over the course of a couple days. "How could we not know this was happening?" I asked with a grunt as I tried to pull my tennis shoes over feet suddenly too big for them. I heard a snap just before the heel of the shoe ripped in my hand. Fuck, there goes another pair, I thought as I threw the ravaged shoe across the room. I stood, resigned to the fact that whatever path this night took me would be done shoeless. Lewis chewed on his lip before answering. "Damon has been acting strange all month," he said finally. "But I had no idea he did that." "How did Damon allow himself to be bullied like that? He's huge!" I protested. Damon wasn’t as big as me or Lewis but he wasn’t someone who should be cowed by a mere mortal like Whitaker. "Because two months ago he was a hundred and twenty pound dork," Lewis responded. "It's hard to overcome a lifetime of being bullied. Believe me, I know." My heart sank even deeper. He was referencing how I bullied him to show me the canisters. I may not have used fists and violence, but I still made him do something he hadn't wanted to. And now Whitaker had done the same thing to Damon. Suddenly something Lewis had said had finally caught my ear. My heart thudded in my chest so hard it felt like a wild animal was trapped in my ribcage. “Wait, back up. You said Damon has been acting weird...all MONTH?!” Lewis nodded, his eyes glassing over as if about to cry. I stepped forward and did my best to speak calmly. “Lewis, how long ago did Whitaker take that first vial?” Tears finally did start falling down Lewis’s cheeks. “A month ago,” he said, whimpering. It was weird seeing such fear and emotion from such a god-shaped figure. My stomach dropped even further. “And Lewis. Why did Damon choose now to talk to you?” Lewis took a deep breath. “Because Whitaker told him he’s going to take a second canister…tonight. Sir, Whitaker is at the silo right now and if we don’t stop him there’s no telling what he’ll become. We may already be too late.” * * * “Fuck,” I screamed at the windshield for the tenth time. I pressed the accelerator through one of the base's stop signs, ignoring the honk of a slow rolling Humvee intending to turn in front of me. Lewis was beside me, a dark shadow filling the passenger seat with only the glint of his tear-filled eyes visible. I took a sharp left without even breaking and my black Suburban lurched as it screeched onto the side road. The storage warehouses I oversaw sat like hulking tombstones at the end of the darkened path. I had known war in my short time in the Navy, but I was more scared now than I ever had been. The fact Whitaker was somewhere in those silos with another canister of that stuff flowing through his veins isn’t what scared me…it was that him being there meant he was big enough to want the second canister. The euphoria of growth the first canister brought was all I needed or wanted for weeks after taking it. It wasn’t until the growth slowed that I suddenly wanted more. So had Lewis. We both felt our bodies, as monstrous as they were, should have been far bigger. The fact our weight was so much higher than our size would indicate made the coiled spring feeling all the more real. Whitaker must have taken a canister soon after I kicked him out of my unit, meaning he had almost as much time to grow as me! What could a month of this serum do to a guy like Whitaker, who’s body could grow muscle just by looking at a weight even before taking this serum. I looked over at the darkened Lewis and grabbed his shoulder in what was hopefully a comforting gesture. “I’m going to need you, Lewis. If we’re going to win this, it’s going to take both of us.” Lewis remained silent and the hint of a nod I saw in the darkness may have been my imagination. We pulled up to the gate with the headlights turned off and hurriedly exited the car. I peered into the guard shack, ready and, after initially thinking it empty, saw the crumpled form of the guard on the floor. "He’s alright,” I said after checking the poor kid for a pulse and breathing a sigh of relief when I found one. “We need to call the police." For once, Lewis offered no resistance and already had his cell open and to his ear as I stood up. He told them there'd been a break in and a guard had been knocked unconscious. "They said we shouldn't attempt to enter the building," Lewis said as he slid the phone back into his pocket. "Fuck that," I said immediately, and made my way towards the door of silo four. I had to get my hands on those other two canisters before I lost them for good. I was shamed to admit that to myself, especially since that meant risking Lewis’s life too. However, looking at his eyes showed a determination behind that raw fear. He wanted the canisters too. This time the nod wasn’t my imagination. We found the door to silo four open with light pouring out from inside. Strange sounds were emerging from the doorway and, after we crept into the giant warehouse, I recognized them for what they were: the violent and indiscriminate throwing of very heavy objects. We slowly crept in, careful not to disturb the mountains of junk filling the warehouse, following the noises toward the back corner of the room, where we both knew the safe was hidden. While they were one errant disturbance from sounding an alarm, the piles were also a great cover as we crept closer by ducking from one pile to the next. I peeked around a final mass and found myself twenty feet behind Whitaker's back as he continued to clear the rubble blocking his way to the safe. He wore his camo pants and his brown military undershirt. And fuck he was big. Giant bouldered traps rose all the way to his skull and his lats flared as wide as most people could extend their arms. The rolling plains of his back practically boiled with twisting cords of muscle as he threw items weighing hundreds of pounds around like they were pillows. Bent over as he was, the bottom of his strained undershirt rose multiple inches above the waist of his pants, revealing an incredibly striated Christmas tree of his lower back and a hint of his gorged glutes. Sweat stains were growing from his armpits and lower back and his breathless grunts were deep and primordial with the effort. He let out a grunt of triumph when he revealed the safe. Whitaker's giant form stared down the chest high safe before he reached down and began entering the combination with his bear sized hands. I looked over at Lewis, his face white with fear as he hid behind another pile. I looked back just as Whitaker finished the combination and moved his hand to the lever and gave it a twist. Nothing. There was no click. The combination didn't work and I breath I was holding finally released. Undaunted, Whitaker tried the combination again. Again there was nothing. He tried again. And again. Each time his skin grew a little redder and the veins in his neck grew a little bolder. He was getting mad. After his sixth try, Whitaker roared with rage, picked up the safe with both hands and threw it to the ground. The room seemed to shake as the safe crashed on top of the scattered debris, door facing up but otherwise undamaged. Whitaker turned to the side and put a foot on top of the door. Reaching down with lips peeled back in a snarl he dug his fingers into the joint between the safe's door and the body, trying to get a hold. If there was a seed of doubt we could stop Whitaker before, seeing him in profile turned that seat into a giant oak. Whitaker was a god. He easily outsized both me and Lewis. His shirt was likely the largest size the military made but it still fit him like a medium shirt on a professional bodybuilder. His pecs bulged like striated slabs of beef over deeply chiseled abs that each stretched the shirt’s fabric like a balloon ready to burst. His shirt sleeves crept most of their way up his volleyball sized shoulders revealing an equally sized upper arm that appeared flexed even while hanging limply at his side. Pencil-thick veins snaked their way across his bicep like rivers and a giant cable thick one cut its way across the center of each. All told, he stood about 6'6" and looked well over three hundred pounds and still had that overly dense look about him that Lewis and I did. He weighed way more than he looked. As if to exclaim that point, Lewis absent mindedly stepped on a metal tin as he shifted his footing. The half of his bodyweight he applied didn’t simply dent it, it crushed it, flattening it like it was a beer can. Whitaker didn’t seem to even notice as he bent over the safe. It was worse than I imagined. Lewis was a runt before the serum. I was merely average. Whitaker was likely a muscle tank before he even hit high school. Where we had to try to gain mass before, Whitaker seemed to only have to think about working out to grow. His body probably took to that serum like a fish took to water. A creaking sound snapped me back into the moment. Lewis’s fingers had successfully dug themselves into the lip of the safe's door and he was now pulling on it with all his might in an effort to rip the door off its hinges. Muscles all over his body bulged and thick veins pulsed against his paper thin skin. His neck expanded in a swell of veined muscle as it grew deep red with the strain. He let his head roll back, teeth bared and eyes clenched shut as he roared. I saw the muscle fibers in his shredded 24 inch arms writhing and shuddering. The muscles in his shoulder and thick back strained in high definition against a shirt that was beginning to give up all hope of holding together. Then it happened. A giant bulge grew from the right side of Whitaker's already giant back. First it was a single muscle along the side of his lat, then another, and another. Each muscle seemed to double in size in rapid succession and combined to effectively double the size of his back. His right deltoid ballooned and tore through the already pitiful excuse of a sleeve. The fabric parted like stretched dough over the mountainous fibers of his shoulder and parted along the seam of his lat as it grew out of his side like molten lava. At the same time, the safe gave a pained groan as the hinges finally failed. Whitaker gave a deep roar of triumph as the door flew from the safe and landed against one of the piles of flotsam behind him. Whitaker stood and looked at his enormous right arm hanging wide over his new tortoise shell of a lat. He smiled and gave his lat a good flex and let the muscular ripples cascade up his back like waves. But his eyes quickly looked over and down at the newly reveled contents of the safe. He reached in and I saw him pull out one of the white canisters. His eyes grew wide and he rubbed its surface gingerly with his thumb. He didn't even see me coming. Without any thought other than keeping him from using any more of those canisters, I ejected myself from my hiding spot and raced towards him as fast as my body could take me. I barreled into Whitaker before he even looked up. It was like hitting a parked car and I grunted in pain, surprised at how little my momentum seemed to affect the giant. The only affect all my weight had was to momentarily push an unsuspecting Whitaker onto one foot. My eyes forever on the canister, I used what little surprise I had left and yanked it from his hand intending to use it right then and there on myself. But the thud of his bare fist hit my ab wall and pain flared through my body like fire. The force of it pushed me back violently and the canister flew from my hand. Just like that, my advantage was over. I bent over the pain in my gut as an unphased Whitaker stood over me. Holding my throbbing midsection, I looked up and found myself inches from his boulder-like abs. His newly gorged back had pulled at what was left of his shirt, revealing the bottom row of his shredded bricked abs. I stood back up with visible effort, even then barely making it above his heaving chest. Whitaker was taller than 6’6” and he was incredibly wide, more so with his oversized lat still flaring angrily under the gorged mass of his arm. "Well hello there, sir," he said in a deep rumbling voice with a smile that didn't touch his eyes. "Fancy meeting you here. You look healthy." His right hand flashed like lightning and was suddenly wrapped around my bull neck. His mutant delt flared even larger as he lifted me to my tip toes with that single arm and pulled me even closer. "But not as healthy as me." I put both of my hands against his steel-hard forearm and tried to pull him away from me but it was in vain. He just glared at me with those dark blue eyes, radiating power. I felt his hand tighten around my neck, unfazed by the useless resistance I was offering. I kicked him in the gut with enough force to break through drywall but he shrugged it off with barely a grunt. "My body will break yours," he laughed. "I'm unstoppable." He closed his grip, shutting off my air. I was choking. In that moment there was a metallic click followed by an abrupt hissssssss. We both looked over to see Lewis, eyes still wide with fear, standing next to the mangled safe. Our eyes traveled down simultaneously and we both noticed the white canister jammed deeply into Lewis’s thigh. There was a moment after the hiss died down where everything was silent and still. Then Lewis, eyes wider than ever, took a fearful step back once he realized Whitaker now had him in his sights. My captor gave a deep chuckle and began making his way to my scared accomplice, dragging me behind him like a child would his stuffed bear. Lewis took another step back, raising his open hands in surrendered gesture. Then he stopped, gulped, and looked down wide-eyed at his own raised hands. His face grew red and his breathing deepened. "Oh fuck," he said, a hair shy of hyperventilating. "I’m so hot. It…burns.” He gulped air as if starved of it and every exposed part of his body grew a deeper red. Veins bulged across every visible part of his skin and pulsed with his rapid heartbeat. “Ohhh fuuuuuuuuuck." His voice grew deeper as he bent over and gripped at his uniform blouse. "Oh fuck yes," he said again. He wrapped his arms around himself, squirming in his uniform as if unable to get comfortable. It reminded me, appropriately, of a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back in a combination of pain and ecstasy, his wide neck flaring in a red mass of veins and muscular bulges. I then noticed that the loose folds of his military uniform were slowly falling and smoothing out. He…he was growing. His back shuddered and his traps began to bulge up. His uniform inflated all over as if being filled with air. Lewis threw his arms wide, the cuffs of his sleeves riding up his wrist to where it got caught by his increasingly swollen forearm. Thighs already the width of a fully grown pine tree ballooned ever wider as the stitches of his pants began popping. A bulge began growing at his crotch and I saw the giant imprint of his dick begin crawling down his thigh, somehow finding room to squeezing between it and the practically painted on uniform. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god." A dark stain grew halfway down his thigh as he came. He reared back, eyes fluttering in ecstasy as his lats pushed violently against his thick ripstop blouse. There was a grunt of pain as the clothing ran out of room or capacity to expand, then every stitch practically exploded from his body, revealing an inhuman monster beneath. Lewis inhaled deeply, his thick plated pecs expanding, each one inches deep and crossed with deep-set fibers. Pulsing veins covered his growing body. He flexed his arm and watched it expand, then flexed again, as it expanded further, growing ever bigger and higher. His feet tore through the tattered remains of his boots and he stepped off their crushed soles. Thigh-sized calves flared as he stumbled forward, unused to his increasing size. Quads the size of hundred-year-old tree trunks shook and rippled with each step. His dick stood hard and erect, well over a foot long. Eyes still glazed and inwardly focused, he touched it as another growth spurt hit and he came again in a flood. He grew taller as his body grew wider. He looked down again and felt the ever-deepening abs he could no longer see over his gargantuan chest. When the growth seemed to be over, Lewis stood at nearly eight feet tall and was so incredibly big I couldn't even estimate how much he weighed. 500 pounds? A thousand? He steadied himself, still breathless, each heave of his chest stretched the skin pulled across it, making the individual muscle fibers beneath swell enough to cast their own shadows. He stared down at himself and tested his body, flexing his arms and chest and legs, he and I both taken in completely by the sheer size and power that radiated from the former runt. A stray sound broke our fixation; he and I both looking over to see Whitaker diving for the white canister I dropped when he punched me in the gut. “Oh no you don’t,” Lewis bellowed in a newly baritone voice. In a handful of lumbering steps, he closed the gap with Whitaker and grabbed his wrist just as the bully wrapped his hand around the canister. Lewis pulled him up by that wrist and glared down at his tormenter, whom he now towered over by nearly two feet. The canister shook uselessly in Whitakers trapped fist. “What should we do with him, sir?” Lewis asked. Whitaker roared and balled the fist of his free arm, the same arm that was still so gorged and oversized from tearing apart the safe. His pumped arm flared, the stretched skin around it growing shiny with sweat. He then pulled his balled fist back and with another guttural shout threw a punch so hard into Lewis’s side, I could hear the breath knock out of him. Although clearly stronger, Lewis wasn’t as invincible as he thought. He grunted and shuddered over in pain, releasing Whitaker in the process. “Get…guhp…get him!” he moaned in desperation as he fell on a knee and steadied himself over the upturned safe with his hand. Without thinking through it, I ran forward and tackled Whitaker again. This time he was ready for me and clotheslined me with his forearm, knocking me on my back. I coughed and blinked to steady my vision and I looked up just in time to see Whitaker thrust the canister into his leg. “No,” I heard myself moan and Whitaker himself began to laugh. At that moment, Lewis’ hulking form flew into view as he now tackled Whitaker to the ground. The larger Lewis pinned the Whitaker to the floor by his neck. “Got him,” Lewis said through gasps, victory showing on his face. I tried to speak through my throbbing throat but only coughs came out. Whitaker continued to laugh, pinned as he was, as his face started to grow red.
  19. Hello MG Forum, it's me again! Still not sure if this is the right forum, but I'm going to risk it. A bit of background first, I've been working on a muscle growth interactive story game where the player gets to create a character of his own choosing and then adventuring through a land devoted to muscle, growth, and all other manly things. As of now it's still an early WIP so a lot of things have yet to be implemented, but I need alpha testers to sieve through the gameplay for any game breaking bugs. There will be no technical expertise required, you just have to play it and report anything obviously wrong that goes wrong. I'm going to throw this out now - this game contains many furry features, I simply have no choice since the furry growth audience surpasses the regular one and I personally do not discriminate, muscle is muscle to me and that's really all that matters. You do not have to test this game if you do not like furry characters (there are/will be humans too!), but I'd greatly appreciate it if my inbox could be spared any hatemail. I'd also greatly appreciate it if any bugs could be reported in this thread so I can address them. One thing to note is that there will be plenty of links highlighted in a light red colour, these are not bugs, simply content that I have yet to implement, so don't report these! Online Gameplay Link : http://bit.ly/1sR4XeA Offline Download Link: http://bit.ly/1rAXmAo If you are given an error message right off the bat, please download the game and play it from any browser. That is all, Waffle out.
  20. Shade

    The Alpha Male 8

    Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 Another Dose “It seems like such an insignificant thing,” muttered Kyle as he held the vial up to the light for inspection. The deep violet liquid under the glass glistened not only with the reflected light of the sun, but with the glow of its own source of illumination as well. It had a phosphorescent quality and looked like it was liquid amethyst. I watched, both dreading and eager, as Myles took the container from Kyle and prepared the syringe with a full dose of fluid from the vial. Something stirred within me, something I had taken to calling the dragon, since that was how I imagined this unique force of energy. The dragon scared me, but I had decided that it would be prudent not to mention all those details to Mack and Myles. Although in my gut I knew it wasn’t right to hold back such information, I felt confident from my time with bear that I could control it. At least I hoped I could. “It is anything but,” Myles told us, the tone of his voice definitive. “This protocol is highly experimental and if my sources are accurate only a limited batch was ever correctly manufactured.” “Why?” queried Mack. “Apparently they had limited access to a key ingredient. And they could not synthesize a substitute.” “So this is not Vulcan’s Fire?” This last comment was my addition to the discussion. I’d been sitting there like a lump on a log while Myles, Kyle and Mack had weighed – sometimes quite heatedly – the pros and cons of giving me another dose. It turned out we only had three vials altogether from the case I had acquired from Mr Fong, and it was unclear precisely how much of the initial supply might be left in the hands of others. “No,” Myles continued, “The Vulcan’s Fire protocol was developed in conjunction with Fong’s syndicate. Your acquaintance, Mr Nickerson, has been taking a derivative of that formula. Although what he is taking is likely to be in a much more concentrated form than what has recently become available on the street. Such as what Mr Mikkaelson is currently taking.” Myles nodded his head toward Jack, who as it turns out was the Mr Mikkaelson in question. Jack just flexed his bicep in response. A shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “Works good too!” he reminded us, as if the bicep alone wasn’t proof positive. It hadn’t been my decision to bring Jack into our group, but while I’d been AWOL Jack had tracked down Mack and insisted to know what had happened. Myles, keen to sample Jack’s blood, had reluctantly convinced Mack to give him clearance. “Indeed,” said Myles, but I noticed he gave Jack a familiar and rather knowing look. “But as we’ve seen this formula, DA300, is something else altogether. Apparently Vulcan’s Fire was developed in conjunction with the Russian Mafia from a failed experiment the Soviet military establishment had been working on.” “Yeah,” I said, feeling guilty. “Sorry about that.” As it turned out, after my fight with Billy, Mack had brought me into one of the abandoned mines where Myles had set up a makeshift medical facility. They hadn’t reckoned on my ass being whupped quite so badly as it had been. More importantly they hadn’t reckoned on what would happen when they’d administered the initial injection. It can best be described for the lay person as a massive fucking hulk out of epic proportions and Myles, Kyle and Mack had barely survived with their lives. “Are you sure you can control it this time laddie?” Mack stood there with his arms crossed. I knew that posture and that expression. He was worried, but even more concerned that this was a stupid idea. “Trust me Mack. I know I’ve got something that will help.” I picked up one of the empty kegs of the bear’s formula in my hand for emphasis. I’d managed to fuck the secrets of his formula from the bear. It was old school, but developed overtwenty years he’d spent on his own. You see the bear had originally been a biochemist. His growth had been long and slow, but the effect had supersaturated his muscle. I’d brewed some of the concoction and given it to Mack and Jack, both of whom had responded favourably to the drink. I think it basically acted as an enhancer. But I also found it was the only thing that could calm the dragon. With it I could maintain control. I hoped. Mack looked down at the three kegs I’d already consumed. My muscles were supersaturated with formula and I figured that now was as good a time as any if they were going to administer another injection. “It doesn’t matter whether he can control it or not,” sighed Myles. “You are the only one that we have who is strong enough to give us the advantage in this fight.” Myles and Mack dogmatically refused to elaborate on what fight we were in. And it wasn’t for want of asking on my part. “That is after all why we’ve come to the middle of nowhere.” Kyle gestured out to deep Nevada desert. “This way if you hulk out again, we won’t have a whole mountain coming down on us. Despite it all, he grinned at me. “What the hell,” said Mack resignedly. “In for a penny, in for a pound.” “I still say that you could give me a dose,” Jack said exasperatedly. “We’ve settled that.” Myles looked very firmly as he spoke. “I would not have used this at all if it hadn’t seemed necessary at the time to save his life. We don’t have any idea at all what it would do to you – or if you’d even have survived.” I smirked at Jack. But I actually agreed with Myles, and not just because I was worried about Jack overpowering me at some point. The truth is that first dose was so painful and so destructive that I nearly lost my mind. As it was I forgot who I even was for three weeks. Mack and Myles both stated their belief that it was my phenomenal, natural strength – which we had on good authority was probably the greatest inherent strength of anyone not juicing – that had allowed me to survive death and the effect of the formula on my system. What might it do to someone else? Of course Jack was a juicer. Maybe he would have been fine. Myles, however, was not willing to take any chances. “That dose will remain safely locked up for now.” He turned to me, syringe in hand. “Are you ready?” The dragon hissed its acquiescence and I felt that tingle in my balls, the tingle of excitement. I nodded. He slipped the titanium steel needle into my vein and depressed the plunger. I was not restrained this time, as there was likely no restraint we had at our disposal that could hold me - extra dose or not. I’d seen Kyle and Mack move back and Myles stepped away also, but this time he remained in my field of vision – as did Jack. My stomach was bloated with the other formula, the sweet nectar still on my lips and it deadened the sensation of the DA300 formula. But I could feel it. Like a creeping evil. That was when it took hold of me. Not pain. No, this time it manifested itself as pleasure. Deep. Fucking. Ecstasy. And it hit me like a whack from Thor’s hammer right between the eyes. I stood up, grabbing my head. Though I just as quickly fell to my knees. “HOLY FUCK!” I groaned like I’d just had the best orgasm of my life. I was so powerful. I was in a state beyond powerful. Jack approached me as I knelt there. I was aware of him. There was a fog between the two formulas. They were like oil and water, not quite mixing. I felt dizzy almost to the point of nausea. I put my hands on the ground, squeezing the dirt, crushing it. My arms forced downward and into the ground. I felt the dragon flapping around. It desperately sought its freedom, trying to figure out how to escape, but the other formula dampened it. Prevented the full effect from materialising. Yet I could start to feel it commencing, slowly, but with increasing pace. My muscle pumped slow…the formulas beginning to metabolise together. My mind clouded with an inner darkness, so intent. Bent on destruction, I knew then that I could do horrible, unspeakable evil. But I would hold it back. I was holding it back. Trying to. Trying so hard. I slowly, slowly rose to my feet. “Well that shot appears to have been a dud.” I turned to the voice that had spoken. “What did you say?” Jack looked back at me, an expression of regret and boredom on his face. “What a waste of time big guy. It didn’t fucking work.” As I regarded him the muscle engorged further. I felt myself broaden. The fibres toughened, bigger and denser. My whole body was changing under the assault. I’d been bare chested for days as we’d had no shirt big enough to fit my body. It was a good thing because with each breath I was increasing in size. As with my initial tussle with bear, the formulas were complimenting one another. And each had the intended effect, as I’d hoped earlier, of slowing the other down. I felt the bones of my body expand, growing and changing into something not quite human. The very experience was deeper than just juicing. "No," I grunted. "It's working." Jack's eyes widened as he became aware of the growth. My body was expanding in all directions, my shoulders growing wider, lats expanding and growing thicker as my already huge pecs expanded outwards. I felt my skin struggle to contain the sudden increase as it was pulled, stretching faster than my muscle would allow. Biceps and triceps swollen, thicker than ever. Looking pumped and feeling hard, so hard. I just had to flex them. I changed my stance as I felt my quads and hamstrings adapting also. The calves growing, their diamond heads getting wider and thicker with each passing second. Oh fuck! I could feel the onrush of size as the nutrients in bear’s formula fed the dragon. Now it was truly in my blood, in my muscle, and in my DNA. Maybe I shouldn’t have mixed those two formulas? Maybe I didn’t care. This I knew was only the beginning. Still there was Jack. I looked at him standing there and I couldn’t remember why I’d ever bothered wasting time on him before now. He was such a weak little pussy. A weak little bitch. He was just a fuck toy. But he was also a threat. Jack wanted to own me. Wanted to fuck me. He had aspirations above his predestined place in my life as my cum receptacle. I moved quickly then. In a couple short strides my powerful quads propelled me across the distance between us and I backhanded him. The force of my arm tore his body from the ground and Jack soared through the air landing meters away in the dust of the desert floor. He lay there still. Pussy. Before I could turn my attention back to the other ants, Mack leapt onto my broad back. And he held on to my neck like a rodeo cowboy as I spun round, catching sight of Myles and Kyle in the process. Why was I surrounded by these insignificant little beings? Not even men. I could crush Kyle like the germ that he was. I wouldn’t even have to exert myself to do it. And Myles. Angelic, beautiful Myles. He may be a pretty toy but what was that compared to the awesome supremacy of my muscle? Godly. Unstoppable. Needing to be worshipped. I was far beyond those little men the cartoonists drew to impress. Hulk? Thor? Superman? What were they compared to me? What could they do that I could not excel at? Outclass them in every way? I stretched up to my full height, and ROARED. This was all that there was. Pure unending strength. This was power. Reaching behind me I grabbed Mack’s arm and flung him over me and into the ground, dislocating his shoulder in the process. He slammed into the hard earth as it compacted beneath him, indented by the force with which I’d thrown him and by the density of his own muscular body. I casually stepped on him to keep him from getting up, not that I suspected he would or could. My foot pressed on his chest. “I could crush you to a pulp little man. Drive you down so hard you’d find yourself inside the Earth’s molten core.” I leaned down and put weight on his chest, but not enough to destroy him. He groaned and his ribs snapped. I smirked. The dragon’s wings beat in my ears. I knew this was wrong, but I didn’t care at all. Why should I? The boulder slammed into me then. I could feel the stone collide with the expanse of my back. My broad lats, hard and dense, formed the toughest armour on the planet, and they resisted the impact. The stone cracked and dissolved upon impact, bits and pieces of the large rock shattering and falling about me. I turned and I saw Jack standing there, a trickle of blood dripping from his mouth. A welt on his face. “You have gotten stronger,” I told him. “Did you come back for more? If I were you I would have run when I’d had the chance.” “Leave him alone!” “Maybe I should pick on someone my own size, right? Except I don’t see anyone here who is my own size. Guess you’ll just have to do.” He ran at me as I stood there, massive now, bigger than a hulk. He slammed fist after fist into my abs. It didn't even register. “Fight it man!” he screamed over and over with each ineffective punch. At least until I got bored, grabbed him by the throat, and began to squeeze his head off his shoulders. As I did I felt a strange sensation stirring in the back of my mind. “Fight it laddie…” murmured Mack from below. “Please…please….” I'd forgotten about him. I lifted my foot up prepared to crush this annoying insect once and for all when his desperate words finally penetrated the fog inside my dense skull. What the fuck? What was I doing? “Mack?” I asked coming back to myself. I turned to see Jack now a shade of deep purple and quickly set him down. He gasped for air. “F-f-fuck…man!” he choked out between great intakes of breath. “You are one mean son of a bitch!” “Do you have it under control?” asked Myles then, striding up to me. “Yeah…yes…” I said. I knew it was the truth now. The feelings of pleasure and power had abated. “Well then,” Myles said as he surveyed the scene, “Let’s get some medical treatment for our friends here, and then let’s get on with this mission.” * * * I’d stayed upon the roof to watch the sun set over the Istanbul skyline as I now listened to the last call to prayer echo through the city. It was foreign, but not unpleasant to me. I was aware that I was in a different culture, which would present new surprises. Standing there with my arms crossed I must have looked an imposing sight to anyone who chanced to see me. “I think our biggest concern should be the Volkov brothers.” Mack stood solidly beside me, despite everything that had happened, his arm still in a sling. He healed quickly, but I had been hard on him. “Mack…” I started to say for the hundredth time. “No lad. No apologies between us. You did what you had to do. This thing, it means nothing.” I lowered my head. “You can control it though, can’t you?” We had exercised my new strength in the desert after the second dose and I’d had no further ill effects, but always in the back of my mind I felt the shadow lurking. This time I’d told Mack about that. I only regretted that I hadn’t done it sooner. I nodded. “As much as I can Mack.” “So about these lads.” He flipped the subject on a dime. Mack didn’t like to get too emotional. “They’re mean fuckers, and I know you’ve had your share of that recently. These two have been guns for hire for a while. Mostly in organised crime. We think they are currently working for the lab that produced DA300.” “When was our last intel received?” “We had pictures from a Romanian facility inside a week. They look the same as ever.” “So we’re going to go to Romania?” “That’s the plan. Myles believes he knows the location of the formula. I’m going to send you in along with two other operatives. They’ll be here by tomorrow and then we can make our move.” I took a deep breath and turned to face Mack. “Okay…tell me what I need to know.” To be continued....
  21. Interview with a Bodybuilder He entered the room with a confidence only held by the biggest of bodybuilders. He's 35, 5'10" and 350lbs of muscle, power and raw sexual energy. His hair is brown, curly and falls over his massive shoulders. His eyes are a piercing blue - eyes that look through you and understand your innermost needs - the need to worship his mass, his muscle and his strength. He has a Fu Manchu mustache, which frames his perfect lips. His cheeks are unshaven and covered with dark stubble, giving him an air of sexiness. He wears his shirt open almost to his navel exposing his hairy pecs, which he is constantly tensing to impress anyone who notices. His slacks are tight showing his mammoth dick soft and to the side. When he decided to meet with me, to tell me about his exploits, it was with the agreement that he would do all the talking. I agreed and this is the transcript. "I started lifting when I was 15. My brother bought a Weider set, and only used it for a few weeks. He gave them to me and the minute I noticed the growth, I was hooked. I saw my skinny 12-inch arms start to bulge out. My chest started to expand and soon I could get a pretty good flex if I tried hard. The girls at school noticed the change, too. That really got me going. After school they'd stand around in the yard and ask me to flex for them. It was freaky. I realized that the bigger I got the more they wanted me. And I wanted to get bigger. I could see the changes every time I looked in the mirror and it turned me on. Within a year my arms were up to 15 inches and a peak had formed. I used to get naked and stand in front of the mirror pretending I was Arnold Schwarzenegger - only I knew I was going to be a lot bigger than him. I was determined to be the biggest fucking bodybuilder in the world! On the weekends, I'd work out for hours, rarely going out and obsessed with getting HUGE! I'd pump my guns and measure them. Sixteen years old and I already had 15inch arms. I knew there was no limit to the size I could attain. I'll admit, when I'd pose in front of the mirror, I'd get a fucking hardon - 16 and my dick was like iron, and fucking 10"! I was as turned on by my muscle as the girls at school. By 17, I had grown so big, I had to buy large size clothes. My neck was 19 inches and my arms were almost 19". I'd go to school and the girls would flock to me. I had so many chicks after me that I hardly had time to keep up. They'd watch me flexing and want to feel my muscles. I'd take my shirt off to give them a treat. They'd run their hands over my pecs and just to surprise them I'd start flexing them. They'd shriek with delight at that and then I'd raise my big arms in a double biceps, or spread my lats like fucking wings. I took a lot of them home, and screwed them good. That's another thing they liked. I had a huge eleven incher that stayed rock hard for hours, always loved screwing their tight pussies and showing them what a real man feels like. After I left high school, I really started getting into growing. At 18, I entered a local contest and took 2nd in my weight class. I laugh about it now. I was a puny little shit, with 19" arms and a 45" chest. The more I worked out the bigger I wanted to be. I was a member at the local Gold's Gym and used to freak the guys out. I'd be in there at 9am and not leave till 6pm working every muscle harder and harder. I took tips from power lifters and found it easy to bench 400, 500lbs. Soon my arms were so fucking big I had to get Extra large shirts and I pretty much wore sweat pants all the time. Chicks liked that - it showed off my huge dick and I'd get hard working out, which really turned them on. A couple times I'd take 2 or 3 of them back to my apartment and fuck them all night. I have incredible staying power, especially when I have a room full of admirers. Me flexing and posing while they fingered their cunts, till I was rock hard from their worship and then one by one I'd fuck their brains out till they begged me to stop. None of this ever kept me from my goal of being the biggest fucking muscle monster in the world. I worked out all the time, getting so freaky I scared myself sometimes when I saw how big I was getting. My first bi experience was when I was 23, with this older couple I met in a local bar. He came up and told me his wife really wanted to fuck me. I thought, 'great. I'll fuck this bitch while her husband watches. A real fucking man screwing the ass off his wife.' We went back to their place and I stripped for her. She played with her pussy while I posed for her. The more I flexed the more she groaned. "How big are your arms?" she'd ask. "Maybe you should measure them," I smiled. She grabbed a tape measure and put it around my arm. She just about fainted when she read, "21 inches!" I picked her up in one arm and sat her down on my throbbing hard dick. Her husband watched, and started jerking himself off. I was jerking her off on my dick when I felt a hot tongue start probing my asshole. At first I told the guy to back off. He said "relax, guy." and I started to get into it. It felt great - fucking this hot cunt and feeling this hot tongue in my asshole. Fuck they both worshipped me! I pulled her off my dick and hit a few more poses. The husband started licking my arms and chest, pumping my big cock while I posed. She was licking my hairy calves and thighs and I was so fucking hot! She said, "fuck him like you fucked me". I said, "Can he take a REAL MAN up his ass?" He nodded and pulled out a condom, placing it on my dick with his mouth. Fuck, I was hot! I picked him up like a rag doll and sat him down on my rock hard dick. I pumped his wimpy little body up and down on my dick, and I tell you - there's nothing like a man's hot ass wrapped around my pole. 'YOU LIKE THIS MAN'S POLE IN YOUR PUSSY, HUH?!' I'd ask, and he'd nod while his mouth was planted on my biceps. 'YOU FUCKING NEED THIS BIG MUSCLE COCK, HUH?!' I shot the hottest load into him, man - I couldn't believe it. We did that all night long - They worshipping my body and me their own personal fuck stud. I'd fuck her then him, I'd line them up and fuck them both. By the time I was 25, I weighed about 280lbs, my arms were about 25" and I was the freakiest looking man at the gym. I entered a few contests and won with little effort. It was then that I realized I'd stop with the contest thing and just focus on getting more and more massive and ripped. I knew I would be so big that contests would be pointless. And I hated shaving, man. I liked the hair on my body. It turned me on having some hot chick or some guy run their fingers through it while I flexed for them. I got into performing strength feats for my sex partners - I'd tear a phone book in half then grab the halves and tear them in half! I'd wrap steel bars around my fucking huge neck. I'd pump my arms for a hour solid, curling with 200lbs and have the chick measure them. Once I actually pumped up to 29"! I fucking loved it, man! And my partners loved it too. The bigger and freakier I got the hotter the sex was. I'd sit back on the couch and have some chick fucking blow me, or ridemy 11" monster muscle till I shot a load on the ceiling! I'd stand up and start taunting them - flexing my arms and pecs saying stuff like, "YOU WANT THIS FUCKING STUD MUSCLE, DON'T YOU? YOU NEED A REAL FUCKING MAN TO DO YOU RIGHT, BABY!" Then I'd pick them up in one hand and carry them into the bedroom, have them oil me and put on a personal pose down - my eleven inch pole rock hard with the worshipping I was getting." At this point he unbuttons his shirt and casually tosses it aside. He stands up and crosses to a mirror and begins to talk to himself, or an imagined partner. He flexes as he talks. "Big fucking stud. You need this big stud, don't you? Look at this fucking bicep! Lick it, boy! Lick these huge fucking pig pecs, boy! YEAH! You like this fucking huge freaky body, DON'T YOU?!" He rubs the growing erection, straining his pants and returns to his seat. "Everybody wants me. I know it. And if they're into my muscle I'll do them good. Now, at 35 I think my arms must be about 29" no pump and my chest is about 65". I pumped my cock up to 13" and rock hard! I can't wear anything but XXX large clothes, and I fucking love it. Look at me! You ever seen anything this fucking freaky. LOOK AT THIS FUCKING MASS, MAN! I'm so fucking incredible! Flexed all day, all night – I don't give a shit!. And staying power! I know this guy, Chuck. He's pretty puny - only 250lbs - his arms are about 21". He said he could fuck a dozen chicks all night and never lose his hardon. I told him a dozen was nothing, and why just chicks? I told him I'd fuck easy 20 chicks and a handful of fags standing up and doing arm curls at the same time, for a night and a morning. He wanted to try me on that, so we went out and found ourselves a harem. He had his 20 chicks and I found the same number chicks and a dozen guys from the local bar. It's so fucking easy picking up anyone when you look like me. I just walked over and said, 'you wanna get done like you've never been done before?' Then I'd flash a pec and start getting hard for them and they'd follow me anywhere. That night at 11pm, we were at Chuck's place - he's got a huge split level living room. First Chuck stripped and the crowd loved it. He stood there buck naked and started posing - most muscular, abs, lat spread, double biceps. Some of his chicks were crawling over him, licking his muscle. The thought of what I was going to be doing started getting me hard and I said, 'Move over wussy boy and let a REAL FUCKING FREAK get started! I unbuttoned my shirt and opened it slowly, showing off my hairy pecs and ripped abs. People went quiet, as I stripped the shirt off and stood there relaxed, letting my size and mass overwhelm them. I rolled my pecs a few times and could see my men getting hard in their pants and my women getting wet. I raised my guns in a double biceps pose and pushed a freaky peak up on my massive veined arms! They fucking loved it! Then I slowly undid my pants and pulled them down. I wanted everyone to see this real man's dick properly unveiled. As the pants came down, some of my women came closer, wanting to touch it. But I wouldn't let them. I just stood there naked and smiled as I got my huge 13" pole hard without touching it! Even Chuck was impressed. His cock started throbbing as he realized he was in the presence of a fucking god! Then we started in. I grabbed a couple of 200lbs dumbells and started curling while the first chick straddled my prick. My cock was rock hard, while I fucked woman after woman, pulsing cunts clamped on my man's dick. Chuck was busy trying to keep up, but couldn't. I'll give him credit - he's never taken on a god before. After a couple of hours his arms tired with the weights and he started losing his hard-on. Not me. I fucked men, women and kept pumping those weights. Chicks and guys all licking my freaky huge biceps, veins popping and my huge dick plunging into their tights holes. It was 11am before we quit. I'd been pumping my arms for 12 straight hours, and my hairy nuts were so tight it felt like I was going to shoot a gallon of cum! I told Chuck to get his hot ass over and let me fuck him. He didn't want to at first, but then the thought that he'd be fucked my such a monster was enough to send him over. I pounded his bubble butt with my 13 inches and his puny 9 inch cock came almost immediately. Then I pulled him off me and stood there, among all these exhausted people lying on the floor. "YOU WANT MY CUM?!" I shouted. "TELL ME WHO'S THE BIGGEST FUCKING MUSCLE STUD IN THE FUCKING WORLD!" "You!" They all shouted back. "Spray us with your cum!" I throbbed my red hot cock a few times, flexed my arms, pumped to an unbelievable 32" and shot a load that sprayed over all of them. Then to end it, I had 20 of them pile on the couch. I went behind and easily lifted about 1000lbs of couch and bodies over my head, doing a few presses for one final pump and a night they'd never forget." He put his shirt on, flexing his hairy massive pecs as he did. When he went to leave he told me he'd be back. He had more stories to tell and needed to tell them.
  22. Chapter 1 Cal was searching frantically in the supply room. “Let’s go, boys! On the field in five!” Shit shit shit.” His first practice and he didn’t have a uniform. He counted himself lucky to be on the football team as a freshman, but being late to his first practice wouldn’t bode well for his future. His parents had helped him buy his own set of pads, pants, and cleats, but he was supposed to get a jersey from the school. If it wasn’t for his ass of a math teacher he would’ve been early to get a jersey, but now he was shit out of luck. Pushing aside old bags of deflated balls and pads that still reeked of B.O., his hopes dashed by a jersey only to find a huge tear in it. He could feel his heartbeat faster as he counted down the seconds. “Fuckin finally!” Pulling a jersey out of the corner, he inspected it quickly. Still sporting the school colors but in an almost retro design. No holes, rips, and it didn’t smell that bad, it was, however, nearly 4 sizes too large. Standing at a proud 6’0 and 183 lbs, Cal was a size large, an xl accounting for his pads. Checking the tag, it was a size 5xl. Putting it on, cursing his luck. Checking in the mirror, the collar and sleeves were disproportionately huge, the waist billowing halfway down his thighs. Still, it was manageable and would probably last until he could get a fresh jersey. Running out to the field, his oversized jersey billowing around him. The other players were already on the field doing warmups, Coach Stevens off to the side talking to the quarterback and a couple of other seniors. Joining everyone else for what seemed like a couple of laps around the field, Cal took the opportunity to check out his fellow teammates. It was hard to tell under everyone’s gear, but it looked like Cal was the biggest freshman there. He was still clearly outmatched by some of the more seasoned athletes. Still, he was proud of how far he’d come. He spent his junior high years playing soccer and only recently started lifting weights in his free time. By the time Summer started, the repeated soccer practices and games started to lose their excitement. It had started out fun, the competition, the training, the wins. But after a few weeks, it didn’t seem as exhilarating. Soon lured by the intensity of football, Cal found himself admiring the lifestyle. The games, the intensive training, the social life. Starting in June, he began working out, increasing his calorie intake, and even started taking supplements. He remembered fondly the thrill of first seeing the fruits of his labor. After two weeks of his regiment, he felt his shirtsleeves starting to bunch up over his biceps. Soon he could feel his pecs start to press out against the fabric. He practiced flexing in the mirror, seeing his muscle tone increase week by week. By the time Fall came around, he proudly marked his progress over the summer in his head: 1 inch taller and 23 lbs of bulk added to his powerful frame. Cal could feel his pulse beginning to rise as he quickened his pace. The excitement of actually being on the field, Cal tried to take it all in. The smell of sweat and fresh grass filling his lungs, his cleats digging into the field as he jogged ahead. Completing their laps, the players gathered round for a quick introduction and an overview of their games for the season. Remorsefully, Cal accepted that he wouldn’t be able to play most of the season’s games. Going out on the field in groups, Cal paired himself up with two other freshman newbies for some beginner tackles. Trusting his size and abilities, Cal prepped himself to rush the faux quarterback and the poor guy protecting him. The ball was thrown and Cal launched himself at the receiver, taking him down in a tumble. Cal could feel his muscles vibrating with energy as he jumped back up, ready to go again. That whole afternoon, it seemed like nothing could tire him. They kept going until sunset. By then everyone was ready to collapse, but Cal felt like he could keep going for hours. Getting home and tossing off his sweaty clothes, he got into the shower. Feeling the heat from his pumped muscles escape into the frigid water, Cal relaxed his energized body. As the water crept up in temperature, he paid close attention to his groin. Proud of what he had for his age, Cal soaped up his schlong and balls. Swinging to its full 6.5 inches, he gently stroked it. Getting out of the shower, his hard on bouncing up and down, Cal started to towel off his muscular torso. Looking down, he could feel something off about his point of view. His normally small but hard pecs looked bigger, protruding further out. Checking himself in the mirror, he could tell his frame was much thicker than it was that morning. Jumping on the scale, it read 195. “195? What the fuck?!” Out of nowhere, a deep voice behind him chuckled, “Awesome right?”
  23. Ziel

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    Russel had never felt more out of place. He was a shrimp in a hall of ripped muscle gods. It seemed like everyone at this gym had been going regularly for years, and here he was entering a gym for the first time since P.E. class in middle school. It didn’t help that his work out shirt was comically huge on him. Russel was half tempted to go home and change… or maybe just go home altogether, but he had promised his pal he would at least try to start a gym regimen. In many ways it was only because of Russel’s friend that he was even here today. Russel had long said he was going to start working out. He had always dreamed of having a big, buff body like he saw in the magazines, but he just never seemed to put on any muscle when he tried lifting weights at home. He doubted even having access to professional lifting equipment would help his case at all either, but Russel’s pal, Kurt, was insistent he at least try. Kurt even went so far as to give Russel a new set of workout clothes, a shirt and jockstrap, for Christmas to help him kick off his fitness journey, and it was that outfit that Russel was wearing to the gym this very afternoon. The shirt was a seemingly standard muscle shirt with the caption “Loading Muscles…” on the front as well as a comical loading bar underneath the text. The loading bar was actually completely empty which seemed almost like a cruel joke to the poor, puny Russel. To make matters worse, the shirt was so huge that it hung loosely off of Russel’s wimpy frame. Russel still wasn’t sure if he was wearing it because it was a gift from a cherishes friend, or because he was just too cheap to buy something for himself, or even if he was just motivated by sheer spite, but that hardly seemed to matter at this point. His oversized shirt just made him feel even punier than ever, and his shirt wasn’t the only spacious part of his attire. His jockstrap was a little extra roomy around the Netherlands as well. Russel’s painfully average cock just wasn’t up to the task of filling the ample pouch of the “Enhance” brand strap. Fortunately, he had an old pair of jogging short on over top of the strap so nobody else had to know about his shortcomings in that department. Figuring that even the longest journey begins with a few steps, Russel made his way over to the treadmill. He might not know much about lifting weights, but he did at least know how to jog so the treadmill seemed as good a place as any to get the ball rolling. Russel quickly settled into a routine of jogging along at a reasonable pace while scrolling through a beginner’s guide to working out on his phone. It was strange. He expected to get winded pretty easily since he had never been the most athletic dude, but the more he jogged, the more energized he felt. He felt like he could run nonstop for days! But before he even realized the timer on the treadmill dinged to alert him that he had done a respectable warm-up. Russel hopped off the treadmill and decided to put the newbie guide to weightlifting he had been perusing to good use and made his way towards the weight room. The weight room had tons of mirrored walls all around the place. Try as he might, Russel couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of his own reflection. When he saw himself, he did a double take. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something seemed different. He wasn’t what he would call fit by any stretch of the imagination, but he was looking healthier than when he had walked in. He chalked it up to the rush of endorphins from the jog and the slight sheen of sweat which had settled onto his skin, but there was something else afoot that he had not yet begun to realize. Russel quickly adjusted his oversized shirt and went back to focusing on his next workout, completely missing the fact that the loading bar on his shirt now had an almost imperceptibly small bit of blue filling the otherwise empty loading bar. The first exercise on his to-do list was a few simple bicep curls. Russel figured he’s be ahead to start light and grabbed one of the smallest set of dumbbells he could find, but after a few experimental curls he quickly realized that five pounds was far, far too light. He quickly moved up to ten and then fifteen pounds and found that those were too light as well. He was surprised to say the least. The guide he was reading didn’t suggest going above fifteen pounds for a lightweight beginner like himself, but here he was hefting a thirty pounder like it was nothing. Perhaps even more surprising was the bulge of a bicep the poked out when he reached the highest point of his curls. Russel was amazed by what he saw. It was a muscle! He had an actual muscle! It was small, sure, but everyone had to start somewhere, and the fact that he actually had some sort of muscle definition to show off on his first day at the gym was beyond a miracle. Perhaps he had not given himself enough credit. He tended to carry a few heavy books around campus. Maybe his nerdery was good for something after all. Russel was not about to rest on his laurels just yet though. If anything, this newfound discovery spurred him on to work out even more. If just a few bicep curls could bring out his latent muscles, just imagine what a regular routine could do! He could be buffed like those babes on the cover of Men’s Health in no time! After what he assumed to be a suitable amount of reps, Russel put up his barbells and made his way towards the bench press station, completely unaware that his loading bar had gained a few more pixels in the past few minutes. Russel loaded the bar on the weight rack with what he thought would be a safe and easy starter weight, and laid down to do a few reps. To his surprise, the bar was incredibly light! He wasted no time in adding more weight to it and trying another few reps. Again, the bar was too light. Before he knew it, he had doubled and then tripled the starting weight before he began to feel even a little strain from lifting. He was so amazed by the amount of weight he was benching that he almost didn’t notice the bulges forming in front of him… almost… Russel’s jaw dropped when he caught sight of the mounds in front of him. From where he was lying he had a front row view of his own chest and could see two very clearly defined pectoral muscles. He had pecs! Sure, they weren’t he hugest pecs he had ever seen. They would even be classified as fairly small by most of the muscleheads at the gym, but they were there, and they were his! He couldn’t believe his eyes. He quickly got up from the bench and turned to check himself out in one of the mirrors on the wall. There was no denying what he was seeing. He was cut! He wasn’t bulky by any stretch of the imagination, but he had some honest-to-god muscles on his body. He had a lean, lithe, swimmer’s build. Russel could barely fathom what he was seeing. He had gained a noticeable amount of muscle since he had arrived, but how!? As if to answer his question something caught his eye. A slight movement down below… Russel glanced down at the reflection of his shirt, and for the first time he noticed the additional blue on the loading bar. “Loading Muscles…” indeed, and from the look of things, he had a long way left to go! The loading bar had barely even begun to fill in. If he was this cut with just a little bit of bulking, he could hardly imagine how huge he’d be when he was done! The sheer thought of it sent a shiver of excitement up his spine and surge of excitement down his groin. Russel quickly adjusted himself down there. His chubby was feeling particularly cramped in the confines of his running shorts, but he paid it no mind. He was far too enthralled by his muscles to worry about a little thing like that. Russel couldn’t wait for more muscles to stack on. His mind was racing with ideas of just how huge he’d grow and how to speed up the process. Was there some sort of catalyst besides the shirt? Did pumping the old irons cause him to bulk up faster? He didn’t know for sure, but he knew there was no harm in trying. If nothing else the rush of endorphins and the pump that came with a good rep was starting to go to his head. He couldn’t wait to really test the limits of what his body was capable of. Russel glanced around the gym for the next station he would try out. There were so many options. He was like a kid in a candy store. Eventually his eyes fell upon the simple, unassuming bar attached to the far wall. A pull up bar. Such a simple device, and yet so full of promise. Russel had never in his life successfully performed a pull up. He was shaking with anticipation as he placed his hands on the bar, and then with the greatest of ease he pulled himself up so that his chin was over the bar. It felt so effortless that he might as well have been picking up a tissue. He could scarcely believe that the pull up bar had been the bane of his middle school existence. He remembered struggling and straining for half an hour to accomplish even a single chin up, but now he was effortlessly doing a chin up and beyond. He could pull himself all the way up until the bar hit his chest. Russel was so caught up in the rush that he did another pull up and another and another. He was a well-oiled pull up machine. He kept going up and down like a pistol, completely unaware of how his body was changing. His muscles were thickening all around him, and weight was packing on elsewhere as well. By the time the rush finally died down and he dropped down from the push up bar, he was feeling something very strange indeed. It was tough for him to put his finger on it at first. It was a strange pressure around his legs and groin, but all it took was a look in the mirror to put two and two together. His shorts were getting incredibly tight on his bulking frame! Russel was amazed at what he saw. During his brief stint on the pull up bar he had gone from twink to twunk! He went from a lean, cut, swimmer’s build to having a thick body that would grace the cover of a fitness magazine. He had quads that would amaze a quarterback! His formerly airy running shorts now dug into his thick thighs, but it wasn’t just his muscles that were filling his briefs to the brim. It was plain to see that his dick had grown as well. Russel could only stand and stare in awe at the outline of his own cock and balls that now pressed so hard against the front of his shorts that he could see the very shape and size of them. He could scarcely believe that thick set of sausage and eggs was his! He had a schlong that had to be closing in on a foot long and every bit as thick as his wrist and a pair of softball sized stones to match! It was hard to believe that just mere moments ago he had had trouble filling out his jock strap. Now he looked like he’d be spilling out in the very near future. Russel couldn’t wait to work out more and grow even larger. He already had the body of his dreams, but still, he wanted to be even bigger, and if the loading bar was any indication he had a ways to go yet. Russel didn’t want to waste any time moving onto the next exercise and getting any bigger. He turned and set up shop at the very next station his eyes fell upon – the pull downs. Russel sat down on the seat and glanced up at the bar above his head. Despite how swole he was looking, he was still pretty much a newbie when it came to working out so he was glad to see that there were guide marks on the bar telling him where to place his hands for ideal results. Russel wasted no time getting to work. He placed his hands where the marks said to and began to pull down on the bar until his hands were even with his thick pecs. He was amazed how easily the bar came down. He hadn’t even bothered changing the weights on it before he began working out, and the guy who had been using this station before him was one of the biggest bros at the gym! Russel could now hit the weights with the best of them and then some! And at the rate things were going he was soon going to dwarf even the biggest musclehead the gym had ever seen. Just imagining what it would be like to be so huge got his huge cock to stir to life in his undersized shorts. His semi was straining hard against the fabric of his too-tiny running shorts. He could already tell that one way or the other something was going to have to give. His shorts were reaching their breaking point in more ways than one, and as he pulled down on the bar over and over again he could actually feel himself getting bigger and thicker by the moment. He could actually hear the sound of his shorts straining against his thickening brawn. The sound of straining fabric just spurred him on to work even harder and reach new amazing sizes. He couldn’t wait to see what he would look like when he finally filled the loading bar. Russel was so fixated on his pull downs and his shorts that he hadn’t even noticed what was going on with his shirt. By the time he finished his reps on the pull-down station and returned once more to the mirrors to check his progress he was in for quite a shock. His once far-too-huge shirt was now looking a few sizes too small. The fabric of his muscle shirt strained across his thick pecs and his sculpted abs. The straps of the shirt now rested firmly in the groove between the thick mounds of his delts around his neck and the bulging mass of his traps around his shoulders, but perhaps what was even more amazing was how much his thick lats spilled out the sides of his open-sided muscle shirt. His wings had grown so thick that they would have shredded clean through the sides of his shirt had his shirt not already been open on the sides to accommodate it, but as amazing as his torso had become, it was hard for him to keep his eyes off the improvements below the belt. Russel’s cock was beyond huge at this point. He put even the most ridiculously hung porn star to shame. His dick was looking more like a third leg which each passing moment. His junk was so massive that it didn’t even fit in his shorts anymore. His package rested on the fabric of his shorts as if using them as a hammock instead of actually fitting inside his shorts. Only the tip of his melon-sized cock head actually fit inside his shorts, and his basketball sized stones were even less contained. With how huge his dick had become it was a miracle that any of it could fit in his shorts, and that was saying nothing of his jock strap. His strap had been a bit roomier than his shorts to begin with, but it was still a miracle that it held his bait and tackle in place as well as they did. The red fabric of the front pouch of his jock strap was so strained that it had taken on a sheer, pink texture. The color of his cock and ball flesh was starting to show through. Russel didn’t waste too much time ogling his new size in the mirror. If the loading bar on his shirt was any indication, he still had plenty more growing to do. He was already larger than the biggest bodybuilder in the gym, and he was still just shy of the 50% mark on his loading bar. Russel next made his way over to the squat rack to do some squats. He loaded the bar down with every weighted plate he could get his hands on. The bar was so heavily loaded by the time that he was done that the metal bar actually started to bend and warp under the sheer weight of the plates. Russel figured that that would be a good enough starting point and proceeded to load the bar onto his shoulders and squat down low. He made it halfway through the first squat when a loud, rending sound split the air. His over-stuffed pants had reached their limit and then some. His body was already too big for his britches, but bending down was the final nail in the coffin. His shorts split open clean down the back leaving his big, beefy ass exposed to ass to see. Russel quickly stood back up and set the weight bar back on the rack. The sheer weight of the bar caused the entire gym to rumble. Russel glanced at his reflection once again in the mirror and realized that his shorts were beyond ruined. They were doing more harm than good at this point, and it’s not like he was ever going to fit into them again, so he reached down and unceremoniously ripped them clean off. The waistband snapped with ease leaving him clad in just his shirt, his strap, and his sneakers. With his shorts no longer interfering, Russel once again set to work on his squats. He once again shouldered the weighted bar and squatted down low. He was amazed at how light the bar felt. He had apparently packed on even more muscles during even just the short interlude. The lightness didn’t bother him though. If anything, it spurred him on to work out even harder to grow even larger. He squatted down low and stood back up over and over again while eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He was enamored with how his muscles flexed and rippled with each rep, but there was something else that caught his eye too. With each squat, his hefty nuts came ever closer to touching the floor, and it wasn’t because he was squatting lower. He could actually see his cock and balls getting bigger with each rep! He soon reached the point where he squatted down low and his nuts touched the floor, but he didn’t stop there. He went again and again, squatting down and standing up, and each time he watched as his nuts reached the floor sooner and sooner in each rep. He soon reached a point where his beachball sized nuts were so massive that they reached the floor halfway through his squats and sat there as he finished his motion. Russel was amazed that his strap had held on so long. The fabric was so strained that it had become nearly see-through. Rips and tears had spread through the fabric giving large, uninhibited glimpses as the bare cock and ball flesh tucked away beneath. By the time Russel had finally had his fill of the squat rack, his jockstrap had more than had its fill of his cock and balls! The fabric of the front pouch split wide open, causing his cock and balls to spill out. Russel stared in awe as his dangly bits spilled forth. He had known his junk was huge, but the pouch had hidden just how huge they really were! His beachball sized nuts dangled down to his shins, and the head of his cock rested solidly on the ground at his feet. He had more than a third leg! His cock was not only longer but thicker than his impressively thick thighs as well. His dick nearly rivaled his thick, sculpted midriff for sheer girth! Russel placed the bar back on the rack one final time and took another moment to admire how huge he had become. His torso was sur burly that his muscle shirt was having trouble adjusting. The front of the shirt had become nearly completely swallowed by the dense chasm between his massive, meaty pecs. Only the loading bar, which was now stretched taut across his top row of abs, could be seen. Russel smirked at his progress. He was already so massive, and yet he was barely 60% done? He couldn’t wait to see how much larger he would become. Russel grabbed a pair of the largest dumbbells he could find and took a seat at one of the benches near the free weights. The bench groaned under his massive, muscular bulk, but held its ground. Russel glanced down and smirked at his bare cock and balls which now rested solidly on the ground at his feet before he hoisted the pair of dumbbells up over his shoulders and began to lift them above his head. He quickly settled into a routine of lifting the dumbbells up over his head and then bringing them back down to around his shoulders, but there was something slightly offer. He was getting so massive now that his muscles were getting in the way! The bulge of his traps around his shoulders made it hard for him to raise his arms straight up, and the bulge of his delts around his neck was so thick that the dumbbell kept bumping into it when he returned his arms to the low position. Eventually his traps got so huge that the his could only lift his arm to a 45-degree angle. He figured by that point that it was time to move onto a new exercise. When Russel stood up to move onto the next exercise he was in for a shock… two shocks, actually. First of all, his lats had grown so much during his brief stint doing shoulder presses that he couldn’t even lower his arms all the way! He lowered his arms as low as they would go, and he looked like he should be saying “Welcome to Chili’s”, but the lack of mobility didn’t bother him. If anything, it got him even more worked up. His already semi-boned cock got even harder than before which brought his attention to the second thing which shocked him. His cock had grown even more! He had sort of assumed that once he had lost the pouch of his jockstrap the growth would stop. After all, his jock strap was now less of a strap and more of a belt that barely wrapped around his swelling hips, but the Enhance brand strap hadn’t stopped enhancing his junk! Even now that he was standing straight up, his nuts rested heavily on the floor at his feet, and his semi-boned cock jutted a few feet out in front of him. He could scarcely believe his eyes. His semi was as thick as his midriff, bulging obliques and all! Even as awed by his own body as he was, Russel couldn’t help but notice how eerily quiet the gym had become. For the first time since he had started growing he looked around the room at the others who occupied the gym with him. All eyes were glued to him and his massive muscles and cock. There were a wide range of emotions displayed in those eyes. Jealousy. Wonder… Lust. Just seeing how hot and bothered the other gym-goers were got Russel even more worked up than before. His semi soon reached rock hard status and then some. His massive cock was so hard it was dribbling pre onto the rubberized floor of the gym weight room. Russel was already so massive that it was getting tough to move, but he couldn’t quit now – not when he was so close to maxing out his download bar, and definitely not when he had such an eager audience to please. The question was, what to do next? He had already gone through every exercise on his list, and he doubted he could even fit on most of the gym stations. That was when an idea popped into his head. At his size, he didn’t need gym stations. He was his own station. All he needed was himself and the two barbells he still had in his hands. All eyes were on him as he moved his massive, nearly-nude form into position. He leaned forward so that his enormous cock was resting on the ground in front of him and then laid down directly on top of it. His dick was so massive that while straddling it as he currently was, his feet could barely reach the ground below him and the tip of his dick reached so far forward that his chin rested comfortably on the puffy glans. Once he was happily in position, Russel set to work on his next exercise. He dropped his hands as low as they could go until he was nearly hugging his fat cock and then raised his arms back up until his arms were spread wide by his sides. The murmur of approval from the crowd made it clear they were enjoying the show. Russel could only imagine what they must be seeing though. With his body as exposed as it currently was, there was no doubt his enormous muscles were rippling with each motion, but that wasn’t all. Russel could feel his cock getting thicker between his legs. He could feel the head of his dick poking further and further forward with each fly he completed, and that was saying nothing of his nuts and muscles. He couldn’t see his nuts to check on them, and he had no way of checking his loading bar either. He just had to trust the invigorating rush that was flowing through him to prove that he was still getting larger and larger. Soon Russel reached a point where his chin no longer rested on the spongy head of his cock. His dick had grown so massive that the tip of it poked out past his own head by several inches, and yet it was still growing. As Russel continued his reps he became aware of something interesting. It was getting tougher and tougher to complete a fly. His arms just wouldn’t go all the way back down. At first, he chalked it up to just his cock getting too fat for him to wrap his arms around, but he eventually began to realize that there was something else at work. Part of him wanted to continue his reps, but the curiosity was getting the better of him. He had to see with his own eyes and verify his suspicions. He awkwardly propped himself up and hopped off of his own cock and turned to stare into his own reflection. Sure enough, it was just as he had suspected. His pecs were now so massive that they impeded his ability to bring his arms together. Russel couldn’t believe how massive he had become. He couldn’t believe that he had been a stick when he had walked into the gym this afternoon. Now he was easily five times wider than he had been before. His broad shoulders were so wide he wouldn’t be able to get through a normal doorway without shifting his weight around, and that was saying nothing of his cock which was every bit as thick as his broad, barrel chest, and then there were his nuts which were each about as large as a Lay-Z-Boy recliner. His pecs were the size of mattresses. His individual abs were so huge that each one bulged out like basketballs. His biceps alone were bigger than his whole head, and his quads were as thick as oak trees! And yet, as massive as he was, he could still see himself steadily creeping up in size. Russel knew he had to be reaching the end of his growth. He was already so massive that he was having trouble moving, and yet he didn’t want it to end just yet. Unfortunately, he couldn’t read the loading bar on his shirt. His shirt had been completely swallowed by his pecs. He awkwardly fumbled as best he could with the fabric and tried to pull his shirt out from underneath his pecs so he could read the loading bar, and to his surprise, when he finally did get a chance to read it, the bar was nearly complete! This was about as big as he would get? On one hand he was glad he wouldn’t grow to immobility, but on the other hand, the rush of getting larger and larger was too great to be ignored. Part of him wanted to keep going. Part of him wanted to get even larger than before. He didn’t care if he outgrew the whole gym! A telltale ding came from his shirt to alert him that the download had been completed. For better or worse, this was his new size. Russel wasn’t too bummed out about it though. He was bigger than he ever dreamed possible. He couldn’t wait to show his new bulk to all his friends on campus, but first things first… he needed to rinse off some of the funk from the powerlifting he had done. He put up the barbells and made his way towards the locker rooms for a quick shower. Russel stopped off by his locker briefly to put up his clothes. He had to pull and tug at his shirt to get it unstuck from between his massive muscles, and when he finally did remove it he had to chuckle at what had become of it. The shirt was so badly stretched out that it looked more like a series of spaghetti straps than an actual shirt. Next came the jockstrap, or what was left of it anyway. That part came off much easier than the shirt. All he had to do was shimmy it down across his thick thighs and then step out of them. With that off, all that was left was to kick off his shoes, which he did with ease. It was strange. He had been pretty much bare-assed naked for half of his gym set, but somehow shedding the last few tatters of his clothes left him feeling awkward and exposed. He never was the most outgoing guy, and he had always been afraid of showering in public like this. He had to remind himself that he was no longer a little shrimp with something to hide. He was massive! He had the muscles of a god and the cock of a whale! He had nothing to hide anymore. It didn’t take long for him to psyche himself up and make his way towards the showers. He was not too surprised to find that he was too large to fit into any of the stalls. He was so huge that he couldn’t even get just his dick into one of them! Still, he wasn’t so quick to be discouraged. There was a showerhead on the side of the wall that was out in the open. It was obviously designed for those who were going to hit the pool and just needed to hose off real quick while still in their suits, but it worked just fine for Russel’s purposes. He shimmied his bulk towards the showerhead, turned the knob, and then did his best to soak up underneath the flow, but he was so massive he could only get small parts of him wet at a time, and that was saying nothing of lathering up. There was no way he could reach his arms around his cock to wash it, and his backside was even harder to reach! Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry about what to do for long. He soon felt the warm touch of a wet washrag against his bare skin. Russel glanced over to see one of his admirers from the gym had made the journey into the showers with him. It was hard to believe how tiny the guy looked. He was without a doubt one of the burliest bros Russel had ever seen before, but even this guy looked puny next to Russel’s new mass. Russel didn’t know what to say. Part of him wanted to thank the guy for stepping in to help out, but at the same time he felt kind of weird having someone rubbing him down like this. Fortunately, the new arrival didn’t seem to be too keen on conversation. His eyes were glued to Russel’s enormous pecs. The guy ran the soapy cloth across Russel’s massive pectoral muscle and sensually stroked the thick mass of brawn. Russel’s pecs were so massive that the guy couldn’t even reach all the way across to wash both pecs. The best he could do was focus on the one closer to him. He’d have to walk around to the other side if he wanted to have any hope of washing Russel’s another pec, but for the time being he was content just to wash half of Russel’s front. The suds cascaded down Russel’s pecs and coursed through the deep trenches of his sculpted cum-gutters before reaching his crotch and dripping off his cock and down his immense nuts before splattering onto the tiled floor below, but soapy water wasn’t all that was splattering onto the floor. Russel was trying to keep a level head as he focused on soaping up the parts of his body he could actually reach, but the sensual rubbing from his new friend was getting him even more hot and bothered than he already was. His rock-hard cock was drooling pre so fast that it rivaled the showerhead for sheer output. Pre oozed out from the tip of his supersized cock head and down onto the floor, and things were only going to get even steamier in the showers. Another set of hands soon found their way towards Russel’s enormous body. This time the hands fixated on his backside, and Russel could only assume that the owner of said hands was just as enrapt as the Russel’s first helper. Try as he might though, Russel could not catch a glimpse of the guy behind him. He just couldn’t turn around enough to look behind him, but he was fine with letting his new helper remain anonymous. The mystique just added to his arousal. Russel soon found himself so hot and bothered that his cock was shuddering with joy as the new arrival soaped down his backside. By the time the newcomer had reached down low enough to start massaging Russel’s massive ass, Russel was so close to cumming that he had to try his hardest to tune out the sensations that were overcoming his senses. Having two helpers was almost more than Russel could take, but soon he had yet another newcomer working over his enormous mass. This guy didn’t seem interested in Russel’s muscles though. Russel could only watch in awe as another cute gym jock strode towards him. Even before this newcomer began soaping down a part of Russel’s enormous brawn, Russel knew exactly where he was going to focus his efforts. The guy’s gaze never left Russel’s enormous cock even for a second. The look in his eyes was even hornier than Russel felt! Russel half expected the guy to start washing his cock with his tongue, but instead the guy soon joined in the other two helpers in lathering up Russel’s body with a washcloth and soap. Russel stared in hormone addled awe as the guy stared down Russel’s enormous cock head, a cock head which eclipsed the dude’s entire torso! The guy silently went about his business as he soaped up and stroked down the spongy tip of Russel’s cock. Just feeling how tiny the dude’s hands felt against his cock drove Russel even crazier than before, and the feeling of the dude’s hands sliding under his foreskin to stroke around the fringes of swollen cock head. Russel almost came right then and there. It was only by sheer force of will that he kept himself from dousing the new arrival in a torrential spurt of spunk. Although, judging by the devious glint in the guy’s eyes, Russel wouldn’t doubt that the dude was hoping for just such a shower. Russel’s mind was almost as foggy as the steamy showers as the three guys works over their respective portions of Russel’s colossal body. Guy A had shifted sides and was now working over Russel’s other pec and the other half of his abs and occasionally even dropping a hand low enough to caress Russel’s inner thigh – the guy’s hand wedged tightly between Russel’s thick quads and enormous cock and ball sack as he did so. Guy B had gotten more adventuresome in his worship and cleansing of Russel’s backside and was now giving Russel’s meaty ass a washing he would never forget. Russel was a very hygienic guy, but even had never spent so much time scrubbing the crevasse between his butt cheeks before. Russel was sure he had even felt a tongue in there amidst the lathers and strokes of the washcloth. Meanwhile, Guy C had gotten even more hands on than he was before. He had climbed onto Russel’s cock as if it was a roadhouse mechanical bull. The guy used his entire, soap-covered body to rub and lather Russel’s cock which dwarfed the dude in terms of sheer girth. Even in terms of length, Russel’s dick had a few inches on the guy’s whole body. It was all too much for Russel to take. Dude A stroking his muscles so tenderly, Dude B massaging his ass, balls, and taint so fervently, Dude C gyrating and grinding his whole body against Russel’s cock so erotically, it all worked together to send him over the edge. Russel tried to hold back, but all he managed to do was forestall the coming torrent long enough to let out a loud, low groan. His moan echoed through the misty showers, and then cum erupted from his colossal cock. Russel was so lost in the ecstasy of his own colossal climax that he couldn’t even comprehend what was happening around him. For all he knew everything faded away into the fog of the steamy showers, but he wasn’t the only one in the throes of orgasm. His three attendants had cum as well. Each one without so much as laying a hand on their own cocks. The group came and came again and again, but the trio of attendant’s loads seemed inconsequential next to the flood of spunk that erupted from Russel’s gigantic cock. After a mere two spurts, there was a standing pool of spunk up to Russel’s ankles, and he was nowhere near done draining his nuts. By the time he was finally spent, the thick layer of spooge had seeped out of the showers, into the locker room, and even out into the gym lobby. The four guys slumped down in an exhausted, post-coital haze and basked in the afterglow and the warm sprinkle from the showerhead. Eventually, Russel’s attendants had recovered enough to continue their work, but Russel took much longer to come to his senses. He was only vaguely aware that the three of them were still rubbing him down, and by the time he had mostly come to his senses, his body had been once more washed and was free from spunk. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for much of the locker room. Russel staggered his way back towards the locker room and over towards his locker. He soon realized a small problem that he had not taken into account during his growth – he now had no clothes to wear! His gym shorts were a tattered wreck. They were useless to him even if he wasn’t too huge to wear him, and he hadn’t brought anything else to wear home – not that anything he owned would even fit him anymore. Even the muscle shirt he had been given by his friend which had once been the largest garment he owned was now far, far too tiny for him. He figured he could maybe force it on over his bulky brawn, but what then? The thing would be so stretched out that it would appear to be little more than spaghetti straps. Russel stared down at the stretched-out garment in bemused fascination. He could hardly believe that this little bit of fabric had completely transformed his life and his body. He had gone from the smallest shrimp to the biggest bodybuilder in the span of an hour! He was even bigger than the biggest bodybuilder by a huge margin! Russel was just about to shove the stretched-out ribbons of a shirt back into his locker when he noticed something odd. The loading bar had vanished! It instead had been replaced by what looked to be a pop-up window. Russel unraveled the shirt as best he could and stared in awe at the new message on the fabric. “A New Update is Ready to be Installed” it read.
  24. rmorris

    The Arab Prince

    This is my first ever written story published here. I have actually written one story before, but it was lost when my old laptop gave up. I've been hesitant to put anything here as I don't want my story telling getting too judged, but, this is an idea which is so hot to me, I just had to share. I hope you all enjoy, and any feedback is much appreciated, or feel free to drop me a message. “So, anything else that needs discussing before the next news meeting?” My editor asks. “Umm, well, is there anything I can be focussing on?” My voice slightly cracks, I’ve only been at the BBC offices for a few weeks but I’m trying to make myself come off as keen, but not too keen that everyone around me hates me and thinks I’m going to gun for their job. The World Service has been through some really, really tough months, job cuts, redundancies, people moving abroad to other networks, the BBC was not the place everyone wanted to work anymore, and certainly a young 25 year old upstart like me joining the most respected name in news worldwide might rub some up the wrong way. My game plan was simple, move in the right direction but slowly, and never appear too fast or eager. I genuinely wasn’t there to steal anyone’s job, certainly not deliberately. “Actually, there’s something we want you to do, wait behind.” The room vacated, everyone doing awkward British nods and smiles at each other as they left to complete their tasks. “We’re impressed, you’re progressing well,” she says, “so we’ve got a small interview we’d like you to do, but it is an important one, and it’s a foreign assignment so it’s a good first job.” “Oh wow, okay,” I pause, “go on.” “Prince Abdul Al-Aziz Al-Hamza is shortly to take over the small island nation of Thazzan,” she starts. “Isn’t that the country which has insanely high oil revenues but doesn’t really look after its people?” “Oh yes,” she says, “we’d like you to go there and interview him. His father’s in his dying days and he’s willing to give one radio interview, specifically radio, we don’t know why, to discuss what’s next for his country.” This was a perfect scoop, I mean, it was going to be boring as hell, but good. By boring as hell, I mean there would be no chance for real questions. Interviews with dictators and their sons always followed the same format and went on the same lines, how thrilled the people are to have them and how many changes they have planned for the country. No-one actually ever takes these kinds of things seriously. “I’m a bit concerned about LGBT rights,” I say, after a few moments of pondering. “They’re inviting you, it’s not going to be a problem, in fact I’ve already checked that,” she replies. “Wait you what?” I ask, rather startled. “You’re our only free reporter, so I was upfront about it,” she replies, calmly, I forget my editor has been doing this for years, “we used to check this kind of thing with reporters in other slightly homophobic countries nearby, it’s standard practice.” “How is that, remotely standard practice?” I ask, blood pressure raised. “Because then there’s a record that we checked that it was fine for you to go as a gay man, actually it protects you from being arrested for debauchery if they were to find out you were while you’re there.” “The last thing I’m going to do is hook up with some guy from a country where it’s so repressed and I can get thrown in jail for it,” I say, almost losing my temper, but, then remembering this is the person in charge of assignments, “but thank you for your concern,” I add, through slightly gritted teeth. “Can you leave this evening? It’s either this evening or an early morning flight I’m afraid. You can leave the office now. We’ve planned around 4 days for you there, there’s a visit to some oil refineries, some oil treatment works, some oil fields, and then the final day is the interview itself,” she says, “did you know the country’s economy is almost entirely dependent on oil?” She asks, with a wry smile. “I could have guessed.” I say. ******************************************** 24 hours later and I wake up my first day in Thazzan. The air conditioning perfect, the hotel nice, the BBC could never afford a really, really nice hotel, especially for an inexperienced reporter like me, but it was comfortable. Certainly more comfortable than most hotels around the M25, although that’s not saying much. My first visit to an oil field was boring, as I guessed all the visits would be. I ended up having a chat with the manager as we were wrapping up. Oil was booming, he was telling me, no he wasn’t concerned about the sudden drop in oil in the coming decades as the country was investing now, yes he was very confident in the new Prince. “He telephones in to our board meetings across the company,” he said, excitedly. “Oh so he is more hands on than most bosses?” I ask. “Oh, absolutely,” he says, “much better than in neighbouring countries. He always dials in and he’s very good at giving direction, after all, the country shares the oil wealth so we have to do it for the benefit of all.” He replies. It’s worth pointing out at this point that corruption indexes but Thazzan at one of the worst in the world for corruption, and the UN has repeatedly said that even though they have all this oil wealth, it is not trickling down to the people. Pleas have been made repeatedly to have the wealth shared more effectively, it’s all gone unheeded. I look up from his desk, sure enough, there was a smiling Prince Al-Hamza, probably embezzling huge amounts of this money for himself, not that the people would ever know. I hated myself for thinking this, in a country of such poor gay rights, but he was hot. The guy was hot. His Excellency, or whatever his formal title was, was hot. He had the kind of manicured facial hair and beautiful dark brown eyes that really turned me on to Arab men. Not one guy so far had really piqued my interest, but the Prince did. “Ah yes, it is his official portrait, we are all very pleased with him,” the manager grinned. I notice the date mark in the plaque next to his smiling image. “2008?” I ask. “Yes, why?” he asks. “That’s ten years ago.” “It is the most recent official portrait, he is twenty there, if something more recent comes, then we all have to change. We used to change them once every six months.” “Oh right, so does he look like that now? I mean, during your teleconferences?” “Oh no, you misunderstand, we never see him, he calls in on the phone.” This struck me as odd. I sat back in my chair and looked at the image of the attractive Prince in full Thazzan flowing white robes of national dress. It also made me wonder why the man had specifically asked for a radio interview with the World Service, any Prince on a good PR job would be after BBC World News on TV, not radio. TV had a better reach and could be used on YouTube, radio, not so much. “Have you ever seen him? Met him? He’s nice?” I ask, digging. “Nope, but he is a very kind man, he cares deeply about the people,” says the manager, “sometimes when oil revenues fall, he will call me personally and discuss.” “So he’s never visited your oil field?” “A Prince is far too busy for something like that, he has many diplomatic things to attend and people to look after, I would not expect him to come visit.” “But it’s your country’s main source of revenue?” I ask. “Of course!” He replies, he’s not going to comment further. I let his last two words hang in the air briefly, most interviewees will almost always talk more when you leave the room quiet, this man, not so. Perfectly trained in PR. The two officials standing near the exit to the office probably didn’t help either, while they were there ostensibly to help me around, they were almost certainly there to make sure all my visits were perfect. With that, I left the facility. ************************************** My final day had arrived, this afternoon I was told I had an hour with the Prince, to ask him what I wanted. He wouldn’t answer any question we hadn’t planned from the news team, but we could at least try. He would give highly scripted answers to complex questions and that would be done. I didn’t know why the BBC was going through with this total farce of an interview, but there we are. I was taken to the royal palace at 1pm. The huge, vast building opened up like an oasis in the desert as we drove nearer. An enormous monolith dedicated to housing the ruling family, it had hundreds of acres of perfectly manicured grounds and guards every few metres. I was shown into a big room, then another big room, and finally another big room. I was sat down at a table with a phone on it. “The Prince will talk shortly.” I was assured by a small man in perfectly fitted attire. I got ready to read through my notes for the upcoming questions, I got out my radio microphone, I worked out the best lines of attack. I thought I’d start out slow and ask about oil revenues, then start asking why the country was still not dealing with its poverty effectively. The phone rang. I looked around, but I was in this empty space alone. I gingerly picked up the receiver. “Hello?” I asked, my voice cracked slightly, I needed to drink more, the country was too hot. “Hello, I believe you have some questions for me,” came a slightly deep, immaculately accented English from the other end of the phone. My mouth went immediately dry. “Your Excellency! I didn’t realise we weren’t doing this in person?” “I am a very busy man. You must understand.” “I do, I do,” I say, biting my tongue, before realising I needed to state the obvious, “how am I supposed to do a radio interview over the phone?” “My people will record it,” he says, assuredly, here’s a man no-one has ever said no to. “I can’t do that,” I say, holding back a frog in my throat, “BBC guidelines, I have to record it myself.” “Why?” “You could tamper with the recording, it has happened.” A deep laugh came from the other end of the receiver. “Surely not?” he asks. “Yes.” I reply. “But you would know if it had been edited, you’ll have done the interview.” “Yes but that isn’t the point.” “Okay so what is your first question?” He asks, pointedly. “No, no, I’m really sorry, I have to insist, I have to interview you in person. There’s no point in me being sent all the way here in order to get audio from a telephone recording, I could do that in London.” “London is a beautiful city,” he said, randomly. “Yes,” I say, slightly caught off guard, “it is.” “I have many houses there, would you like to know how many?” “Yes, actually,” I say. “A few, Knightsbridge and Belgravia, all of my neighbouring royal families have houses in the same areas, you know, it’s a second home for us, so many of us in the Middle East are educated in London or around London, we like the UK.” Whilst this is interesting, I get what he’s trying to do. Distraction techniques don’t work with me. “I can’t do the interview like this. It has to be in person.” There’s a loud sigh let out on the other end. Then, some barking of Arabic at an assistant. “Wait,” he says. More Arabic is exchanged. A second voice enters his room and more Arabic is discussed. They have a slightly politer form of Arabic in Thazzan, clearly, more like Lebanese, softer, not the harsh guttural tones of Saudi Arabia. A new voice joins the line. “Hello, I am chief lawyer and legal officer here at the palace.” “Oh hello,” I say, just a trifle taken aback from this new development in proceedings. “It is highly against protocol to let people meet the Prince himself.” “I know, but it is also highly against protocol to even invite foreign journalists to talk to your officials, so this is a rather new day for you, isn’t it?” I say, smirking slightly at the way I am holding myself, surprising myself, really. A long sigh is let out. “We can let you see him,” he continues, “but you don’t have a camera, do you?” “Well I’ve got my phone.” “Surrender the phone, you need to hand us everything bar the microphone and any notes you may need.” “Okay.” “There’s also a contract you need to sign, what you in the west call a non-disclosure agreement, you do not discuss the Prince’s appearance with anyone, not even your colleagues or direct bosses.” “What?” “It is radio isn’t it?” “Yes.” “Then this is not a problem, the contract should be there now, it’s standard royal protocol to not discuss the Prince’s appearance.” “Why?” I struggled to hold back laughter, this was bizarre protocol. “I cannot comment, sign the form, you will see him.” “Thank you.” I say, to his rather curt previous remark. The perfectly dressed assistant who showed me to the table comes back in, this time a gold tray with a piece of paper is handed over, as well as a fountain pen. “Please sign,” he says, bowing. I read through it, it is literally nothing else other than that I must not discuss his appearance with anyone, no hidden clauses, nothing confusing, just that one stipulation. I shrug and sign, if this is going to give me the high quality audio interview we need, that’ll be it. “Please,” he gestures frantically, “leave this room, turn right, walk to the end of the corridor, it is the last door on the right.” I really didn’t need those instructions as a man had now come to stand next to me, and started walking very closely beside me. He was hot, too. I needed to focus. ******************************************************** The doors clicked open upon my approach, but no-one else was going into the room with me. They swung open and I walked in. The room was markedly cooler than the rest of the palace. To the left, at least twenty floor to ceiling windows looked over a perfectly manicured garden being tended to by a multitude of staff. I walked in, distracted by the windows and what they had to show. There didn’t appear to be anyone in the room, I meandered slowly towards the vast view of the courtyard, and the gardens beyond. “Hello?” I ask. My voice dying in the room as it bounced off the walls and marble floors. Nothing. “Hello?” I say, voice slightly raised. I hear footsteps and two men are now leaving the room behind me, the doors click shut. I frown. I hear heavy footsteps, ones more sounding like a rhino crossing the perfectly varnished, clean, white floor. I see a broad man approaching in a beautiful crisp, white national dress. I say broad, he’s across the room and I can see that he is built like a tank. He continues to walk heavily toward me, each step making a noticeable sound on the floor. This is a man who works out. I see it is the Prince, he has barely changed facially, but there are some noticeable changes. He extends an arm to shake my hand and smiles broadly, at which point I notice his neck is almost thicker than his head. Even under the free-flowing gowns of the Arabian Peninsula, it is obvious that this man works out, all the time. He places his large hand into mine and says the Arabic for welcome, I extend the same courtesy back. As he walks towards me, one leg is being placed purposefully in front of the other, clearly due to huge legs. The arms are stretching at his national dress, and it is by no means small. “It is nicer to see you in person,” he says, “my people were very talkative with your editor, I have heard much about you, you have been in the BBC long?” That perfectly accented English makes me weak at the knees, he has a perfectly manicured beard and immaculate teeth, the deep brown eyes make me melt and that thick neck makes me swoon, I wonder what he’s packing underneath the robes. “A couple of years,” I say, looking solidly at his neck. “You will see I am different to portraits, I am more of a man now,” he smiles. “I can see there have been some changes,” I reply. ***************************************** He turned his back to me, his huge, broad back stretching at the seams of the otherwise flowing robe. He walks off to a couple of extremely comfortable looking chairs at the other side of the room, still near the windows. I’m focusing on how heavy his footfall is with each step, his purposeful gait gives the air of someone who is used to dominating a room. He sits down, the chair creaks under his weight, I pretend not to notice. “I don’t have much time, I’m sure you’ll appreciate I am a busy man,” he says, straight away, rubbing his left hand with his right. “That’s fine, I want about half an hour with you, if that’s okay? Just to clear up all the questions the world media have.” “I completely understand, please, I will answer the best I can.” I look through my notes. “May we begin?” I ask. He nods and smiles. “Oil revenues are increasing, aren’t they, how do you use these to pay for the infrastructure of Thazzan?” “My kingdom is very fortunate to have been blessed with such resources to help us out. We have historically always struggled with our economy, imports and exports. It is just one huge export, but it helps out my country hugely, we are moving into the 21st century.” “Do you think the country could be doing any better?” I ask, trying to look at his arm slyly while he rubs his mouth with his right hand in thinking. “I think we have historically had problems with corruption, from previous administrations before my branch of the family came to power, we had big problems.” “What do you say to people who say that the country still has too many problems, too much poverty, for one which last year was estimated to make a few billion dollars a day in selling oil?” He shifts in his chair, it creaks again, he pushes his head back, his neck looks as though he just flexed it, is he trying to intimidate me? “Of course there will always be these problems, but in a Muslim society, we do the best we can to help those in need, I hope that these problems will continue to be eradicated, any poverty is too much poverty.” He shifts in his chair again, he looks uncomfortable. I think he doesn’t like asking questions from a media which actually searches. This is not the fawning state media he’ll be used to. “What are you doing to promote tourism? I understand you are bidding for worldwide sporting events?” He looks relieved at this question. “We are bidding for the World Cup, and for more sports to take place here, we need to boost our economy further with tourism and to show the correct Arab culture around the world, you know, Arabs are seen as so hospitable, yet everyone just associates us with terror attacks, it is awful.” The chair lets out a larger creak as he shifts again, he takes a deep breath. “In terms of your tourism economy, what -“ “Stop,” he interrupts. I momentarily pause, still looking at my notes, rather taken aback by his interjection. He reaches forward and rips the batteries out of my recorder, his huge arms at work under that national dress make me do a double take. “I am sorry, I am not feeling well, I had a brief illness last week, and I thought I would be okay, but I just need to get some water. This is off the record, illness is something my people would not associate with me.” I’m rather taken aback by the admission here, but pause. It’s highly unusual, but if he wasn’t feeling that well at the beginning of the interview then why did he proceed anyway? I ask him this. “I thought I’d be okay, but…” he lets out a long sigh, I notice the chair is creaking again, surely he can afford better chairs, “pass me some water.” He gestures at an ornate table, about five metres away, it has two huge pitchers of water on it and seven glasses. I walk over and pour some out. Hopefully we can bond over me helping him. I have my back turned to him and I hear another creak, he lets out a low groan. He isn’t going to be unwell is he? I can’t be accused of trying to poison him, can I? Is this a trap? I suddenly realise this man knows I’m gay in a highly homophobic country, is asking me to pour him water and hand him it, he could accuse me of all kinds of things, there are literally no staff in here. I don’t carry poison, but what can they accuse me of? I turn back around to face him, he’s sweating. “Are you okay? Should I get staff?” “No, honestly,” he lets out a huge burp, covering his mouth, swearing under his breath in Arabic, “I need some water.” He shifts back in his chair, then more upright, both times the chair makes the loudest squeaks and creaks yet. I rush back with two glasses of water. He has some beads of sweat forming on his forehead. This has to be real, he can’t be faking it at this point. He gulps down both glasses. His face is red, sweaty. “Can you stay longer? We may have to reschedule, I think,” he says. “Yes of course I can, what -“ I’m interrupted by the sound of ripping fabric. His eyes let out a look of panic, briefly, locking straight on to mine. I have no idea what to say, the pause hangs there immediately after the ripping. He continues to stare at me, rabbit in the headlights, as I notice the seams on his shoulders are giving way, the previous flowing robe now bursting at the seams. We both continue to stare at each other. In the corner of my eye I can see the seams getting wider on his shoulders. “Are you -“ I’m speechless beyond that, I don’t know what to say. I’m standing in front of him in the chair, staring. He continues to stare at me, almost completely vacantly at this point, but still panic-stricken. There’s no more words to be formed, I fantasise about this kind of thing all the time, every day, but is it actually happening? Had I finally gained the ability I had always wanted to have? This is the kind of thing I read about on muscle fantasy forums every night, night after night, after work, one handed typing, as I read hot stories of men growing. But this guy is doing it actually in front of me. This isn’t a wet dream. He lets out a deep breath and burps again, says something else under his breath in Arabic. I, automatically, in my British sentiment, excuse him. He thanks me under his breath. The pregnant pause continues, it’s unbearable, I want to watch him grow but I can’t believe it’s happening. There’s no batteries in my microphone, I can’t take notes. I just continue to look at his face. He continues to take in great gulps of air, a bead of sweat forming at the end of his nose and another trickling down the left side of his face. Finally, both stretches of fabric covering his shoulders give way and tear. At this point I sit down, my burgeoning erection had been going since I realised that this was happening, and that he wasn’t actually unwell. He smirks, gently. “You like this, don’t you?” He says, absent-mindedly rubbing his exposed left shoulder with his right hand. I can’t reply. I am staring. My boxers are wet. “Being trapped in such a small, island nation with only a few hundred thousand people and such bad gay rights, I was thrilled to find out a gay reporter was coming.” My mouth is dry. The chair creaks again, he didn’t shift in it this time. “Imagine how surprised I was to find that the security detail provided to you by my security services included that you were a member of the muscle growth forum?” Rumbled. I feel the colour drain from my face. I really want a glass of water now. “When we got into your account, had a look through, you’ve always dreamed of being the guy who encourages, stays the same while his partner gets bigger,” he continues. “I have to say, when I was handed the report by my special security services, and I came across that section in the online activity chapter, I knew I had found the man for me,” he groans under his breath and throws his head back, closing his eyes while something else rips elsewhere. My mouth is as dry as the desert outside. I struggle to prevent my hands shaking wildly. “I bet you want to know why poverty is so bad in my country, why healthcare is so bad,” he says, opening his eyes, staring at me again, those deep, beautiful eyes. I nod, mouth open, catching flies. “I have always wanted this,” he says, grunting a bit at the ‘this’, “ever since I was a child, I wanted to be bigger and better than everyone, I went to school at a private institution in England, I could never become the rugby player I wanted to be. “I have always felt like the only one in the world, who wanted this, like you do, but for me. But then I realised, I’m coming to power, let’s spend my family wealth on the one thing I want, I can be in charge of the government, let’s change government research and development from medical research to muscle.” The chair underneath him lets out two staccatos of creaking. He groans a bit. “My family makes billions per day, of course I use it for the people, and some offshore, but at least one billion of that goes into this.” He stands up, the robe falls to the floor, I involuntarily make a sound like the slut for muscle I’ve always known I have been. “You are literally looking at the only guy in the world who can grow, and grow on command. I have pills, I popped some before you came in, I take them when I want, they’re not perfect, I rarely go out in public, sometimes the growth takes over, so I rule from my palaces.” I look at the striations of muscle across his body, the tensing and flexing, the beads of sweat dripping down his hairy chest and arms, the only clothing he still has on are his undergarments, sandals and his headwear. He reaches out a hand to me, and pulls me out of the chair, I’m weak at the knees. His hands lead me to put my left hand on his chest, my right on his left arm, he tenses both areas. I feel a wet patch forming. “No-one is allowed to touch me except family, that’s a sackable offence in royal palaces,” he continues, “but you, you have always wanted this, you don’t want to admit it but a multi-billionaire prince who can also grow must also be something you want.” He flexes his left arm, I realise my voice box is involuntarily engaged as I let out a huge, sudden breath, I feel my body tense all over. I came. He looks at my now sticky trousers. “Well, well, well, your profile was not fake.” “I’m so sorry,” I say, shakily, sweating, barely able to get a word out, voice cracking. “Why are you apologising?” I stare, dumbly, I can’t take the situation in. “When you came in I was around 270lbs, I’m around 6’3, at this point I’m usually 100lbs more than that, there’s more to go, yet.” This makes me acknowledge the current situation and regain some ground. “How big do you,” I say, I pause to run my tongue round my mouth, “how big do you go?” “Well I only took a couple, so, erm, 200lbs more? I’ll end up somewhere around 500, it’s not an exact science.” My dick is hard again. Throughout all of this, I have noticed how huge his penis is, but there’s been so much else to take in. “And you’re hard again! Oh this will be fun,” he playfully states. He lowers his under robe, a huge, footlong, and thick as a wrist dick springs out, balls the size of small lemons. “You may touch elsewhere, I have no intention of firing you,” he flashes a shark-like grin. ********************************** I gingerly touch his huge, throbbing cock with my hands, left hand towards the hilt, right hand towards the head. I push the skin back towards the hilt and forth towards me, I start gently jacking him. “I love that you’re into this,” he grunts, “I usually have to get prostitutes, no-one likes a man to be this size.” I try and steady my breath, I want to have a calm conversation and not get too ahead of myself. “This is something I’ve noticed, there’s some sizes that most people just think are too much -“ I start to say. “As if there’s a too much,” he says, before groaning again under his breath. “I couldn’t agree with you more,” I say. I grip his huge dick slightly more with my right hand, keeping the rhythm going, while playing with his enormous balls. “Once I finish I usually start shrinking a bit back to my normal size,” he says, “sometimes it takes a few extra hours to reduce down.” “Your normal size is something I was impressed by,” I reply. “Oh believe me, it can go so much more than that,” he says, smirking, “actually, I’m taking the stuff so often it seems to have a residual effect, my smaller sizes are much larger than they used to be.” He flexes his hairy pecs, I moan and bury my face in them. He lets out a moan of approval. As I rub the left side of my face into his pecs, he raises his left arm and shows me its progress. I groan involuntarily, lean over and start kissing the huge growing bicep and tree trunk arm. He’s even thicker and bigger than he was before. “I like food too much to be a ripped god, but I guess from your messages on your muscle growth profile you like men beefier anyway,” he says, his voice has now definitely dropped an octave. “Size and mass are my thing,” I say, leaning over to kiss his now much enlarged arms. “You’re perfect,” he says. I hear a low rumble come out of his chest as his body expands further. “I must be getting close to the 400lb mark,” he adds. I step back, my hand still working his huge, perfectly cut and girthy footlong. He has expanded. He’s now starting to seriously take up my view of the room behind him, even when I step back. “Oh my god,” i whimper, under my breath. “So you’re enjoying this?” He flashes me a grin with those beautiful, perfect teeth. His eyes catch the light streaming in through the windows. The dark brown gets turned to a slightly reflective brown in the sun. He’s perfect. He lets out a low moan as I run my tongue along my lips. His huge arms envelope my back and he holds me tight to his huge chest. My face is buried in between the crevice of his impossible pecs. His slabs of abs, not super defined, but there, press into my stomach beneath my shirt. He squeezes me harder and I let out an involuntary whine. He gets his big hands under my armpits and lifts me just above the ground so we are eye to eye. “I told you I get bigger,” he says, his eyes looking at his enormous biceps. I can see them actually swelling, now that he’s holding me. Every pump of his heart is leading the muscles to engorge slightly more. In this position, hovering just a foot above the ground, his huge body visibly expanding in front of me, I feel something I didn’t want to feel again this quickly. My dick starts tensing incredibly hard, and before I know it, my cream trousers are once again coated on the inside. He looks at me closely as I groan under my breath. Then he realises. “Again?” He says, his voice even deeper than before. Those perfect teeth make another appearance in between smiling lips. My face flushes and I nod. He puts me down and starts unbuttoning my shirt and undoes my belt as I take off my clothes hurriedly. He gets to my boxers and runs his fingers along the huge wet patch. I’ve always been proud of how much I can cum. He rubs his fingers into it, and takes them to his mouth, and licks gingerly. “You taste good, actually,” he says, hesitantly. I hear him groan slightly under his breath. The traps and his neck now have no definite start or end point. He reaches out his hands and forces off my shoes, boxers and socks. I stand naked, in front of the Prince of Thazzan, he at around 450lbs I must guess by now, just his undergarments on, torn clothes on the floor, sandals and head garment still on. He holds me close to him again, my back clicks slightly as he squeezes me, I whine again. He kicks off his sandals and pushes me to my knees. He bends his huge body down slightly to lower the undergarment to his ankles and slaps his heavy dick across my face. His hands connected to his huge swelling arms wrap around the back of my head and force the dick between my lips. He gets two thirds in and I gag. My jaw is fully relaxed as it’s the only way to ensure I don’t bite any part of it. He pulls my head back and then fully back into his dick. It gets around 9” in. I gag again. I look up at him, eyes watering, his eyes and eyebrows just visible beyond his pec shelf and huge stomach. “I’m going to have to train you,” he growls. I feel my dick start to helplessly tense again. It’s looking up at his huge body that’s doing it. I beg internally for it not to happen as his huge dick tries to explore my mouth further and work further down my throat. I try and pull my head back but it’s useless to try something like that when there’s a 480lbs muscle guy restraining you. I close my eyes as they water, tears streaming down my face as I let out a moan on his dick and I shoot across the marble. I open my eyes and look up at him through the tears, dick still firmly lodged down my throat, my breathing partially constricted on it. He smirks, “you’re passing all my tests.” He grabs me under the armpits again and lifts me up, puts me down on the ground and my feet land in my own sticky mess. Great. He takes two steps back and I can feel every bit through the marble. “It’s solid foundations beneath this, you know,” he boasts, “that’s how heavy I am.” He gets on to the floor, when his hands touch the floor I feel reverberations too. “Pass me a pillow,” he says, I dumbly oblige, standing in my own cum. “Lie down, head on the pillow,” he growls. I get on my front on the cool marble floor as he stands up. Bones and joints click in his body. “On your back. I want to see you when I do this.” I dread what’s coming. He’s a monster. I knew this was going to happen but I’m still not prepared for it in the slightest. He lifts me legs with such effort as he gets on his knees, and the floor shakes, that I feel my ass and body being lifted up, up to my neck. “Oops,” he grunts, “you weigh nothing now.” He sits my feet on his shoulders and look up. I’ve never been more turned on. If I tilt my head left or right he still dominates my view. I feel the pain as my hole is stretched beyond belief. His now 500lb body lowering into me. Every inch feels like six with the added girth and pain. I am paralytic from pain and can’t even scream. My mouth is open but no sound comes out. He lowers his head right up to mine, forcing my legs back into a position I didn’t think possible, but his weight made inevitable. He kisses me on the lips, before moving his mouth to my ear. “This is my biggest, do you like?” he rumbles. He raises himself back up as his dick starts working in and out of my hole. I just want it to be over. He can train me, but the pain is too much. It would take years to adjust to a dick like this. I finally find my breath and let out a yelp of pain. He puts his right hand beside my head, I feel the ground shake, and his left hand covers my mouth entirely. “Shhhh,” he says, “I thought you liked guys my size,” he smiles. He removes his left hand from my mouth and flexes his left arm in front of me. My hands reach out for his arm like a thirsty person reaching for water and I realise both of my hands have no chance of ever being able to reach around his huge tree trunk arms. One hand barely covers a quarter of the circumference. “Do you like guys my size?” He asks, flexing his hulk-like left arm as I reach at it like a pathetic kitten. “Yes,” I moan, in between trying to breathe when not all of the 12 inches are inside. “This is two pills,” he gives me a wide grin, “I’ve got an unlimited supply,” he continues. I moan in approval, my hands now roaming over his impossibly huge, hairy chest and body. “I can grow like this any time I want,” he continues, as I continue to feel his burgeoning form, “any time,” he repeats. His thrusts get stronger, heavier, I feel his dick tensing inside my hole. “If it were up to me I’d be big like this all the time,” he says, I feel my dick starting to tense again involuntarily, I know what’s coming. “I want to be bigger than this, and I can get bigger than this any time I want, I only want to be this kind of size, only you understand,” he lets out a load groan and I feel what’s coming. His dick is pulsing hard deep inside my gut. “I have no limit!” I yell. I feel my hole suddenly flooded with sperm, his orgasms seem to actually be getting stronger. He lets out a deep, masculine roar as he collapses onto me, my legs flexed fully back beside my head. My dick tenses again and pumps out what it can from the very active half an hour it’s had. His orgasms seem to subside slightly before he groans into the pillow again, his full 500lbs of weight is seriously restricting my breathing and I start to panic slightly. I feel his huge strong dick continue to pump and tense inside me before he lets out a slightly higher pitched grunt and he feels less heavy on me. We lie there, breathing heavily.
  25. This story uses a character from @MadMutter, Jolias (at his request, so yes I have his agreement), this is what he looks like if you have never seen him (in this story, his body was not so muscular at the beginning): https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DzT340qWoAgJVhF.jpg https://www.deviantart.com/madmutter/art/Jolias-Ready-for-Raccoon-City-784139560 And the other character, his boyfriend, is Max (brown hair, glasses). I planned to post the full story in one time but it would takes too much time. This story should have 7 or 8 chapters so no, it's not finished. I hope it will meet your expectations. As usual, feedbacks are welcome ! Enjoy ! Jolias and Max: The cock ring Level 1: From zero to fit Max was in the Jolias's bedroom, lying on his boyfriend, their lips were stuck and their tongues were dancing, when suddenly... I was lying in the Jolias's bed, with Jolias, well, rather ON Jolias, we were in the middle of a kissing session. Gooooosh I loved these kissing sessions, to taste each other's saliva, feeling our tongues dance. Then suddenly... *DING DONG* I stopped to kiss Jolias and looked towards the door. Hu ? Who is it ? "Oh crap !" replied Jolias. "I really hope that this my package ! I've been waiting for it for weeks ! Jolias got up, quickly put back his tshirt. Craaaaaaaap he was so beautiful, this amazing body, slighty muscular, this tanned skin. I fell in love every time I looked at him ! Jolias went to the front door to see who it was. "... FUCK YES ! IT'S HIM !!" he yelled. Excited, he quickly opened the door ! "Hello ! A package for M. Jo..." "Yes, it is for me !" asked quickly Jolias. Fuuuuck he was really excited ! I was wondering what he could expect promptly. It looked like a kid receiving his Christmas present. "Please sign here." asked the delivery boy. He hurriedly took the pen and signed. "Thank you very much. Have a good day !" said the delivery boy. "You too !" asked Jolias then he closed the door. "Oh YES ! I got it ! I got it ! I got it !" repeated Jolias, clearly very happy. To be so happy, it must have been very important ! "Dude, what's happening to you ? What is this package that makes you so excited ?" "Haha ! A little gift for both of us !" replied Jolias, in laughing. "A... gift ?" Jolias tore the package, not even taking care to open it properly as he was so impatient. And finally, he showed the gift. "TAAAAAADAAAAAAAAAAAA !!!" he yelled, by showing two rings. Huh ? Two rings, it is also excited just for that ? ....... OH FUCK ! Don't tell me he's going to propose to me ? "Eeeeehhhh.....rings ? You were so excited just for two rings ?" I wondered. "Jolias, are you... going to propose to me?" "Gnuh ? .... Ah no haha ! No no no hahahaha ! Nothing to do with a wedding, well that will come too of course but this is for something else ! It's not a ring that you have to wear on your finger" replied Jolias. "Huh ? To the ear then ?" "Nope !" "To the nose !" "Nope !" ".... FUck Jolias, Are you going to tell me what the fuck this is for?" I said, with a touch of annoyance but also intrigue. Jolias had a little smile. He pulled his shorts down and his underwear and passed his dick in the ring. "WHAT THE HELL ? Is it for... ?" Wait, was that for what I think it was? "Hahaha it's a cock ring !" A cock ring ? He was as excited about a fucking sex toy ? "Go ahead and put it on, I'll give you a demo." It was a ring, made of a slightly elastic material to fit the size of the dick. I put it on and placed it at the base of my cock. Gooosh it squeezes, as if someone was grabbing my dick. "Well... an now ?" I asked. Jolias was playing with his phone. "The nice thing about these is that they are..... connected !" He had barely finished his sentence when I suddenly felt intense vibrations at the base of my cock. It was as if I was masturbating myself but much stronger and more intense "AAAAAAAAAAAAH Fuck !!!! Fucking fuck !!! Crap ! HOLY CRAP ! What is this thing? OOOOoooOOOOOOOOOoooOHHHHHHHHH aaaAAAAAaaaaAAAAAaaaAAAAHHHHHHHH !!!!" "It's intense, right ?" In a few seconds I was already panting as if I had fucked for one hour. It sent me a wave of pleasure on wave of pleasure. "Crap Jolias ! I think I will... I will....I...aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!!!!!" My cock started to spit its white liquid, a dozen charges that splashed on the ground. Fuck, I had rarely come like this, not so fast !!! "Ha.... ha..... ha....... ha..... ha...... ha" It only lasted a very short time and yet it was as if I had had an intense session of over an hour. "So, did you like it ," asked Jolias, in smiling. "Oh crap.... oh fucking crap..... it was... it was... intense !" "Hahaha ! Yes, the first time surprised me too ! And as you saw we can control it via an app ! I actually thought we could have fun with this". I could feel a shiver of lust in his last sentence. "Have you ever been turned on in the middle of the day and felt like having a little session ? But not being able to satisfy you because it would be too visible ? Well, with this we can !! Well on the other hand, you'll have to try to refrain from screaming and hide your wet patch hahahahaha !! And to "spice up" the game, because you know I love to eat VERY spicy food, as they are connected, why wouldn't each one control the other's ring. Wouldn't that be fun hehehehe ?" I must admit that the idea was very fun but on the other hand it would be much less nice if everyone understood that you were in the middle of orgasm. But I must say that what I loved about, was this sexual tension that we maintained it made our sexual relations very much more intense and enjoyable. And if there was one thing he was good at, it was coming up with ideas to push lust even further. And this was his latest find. "Yep, we can try this !" I said. "Perfect !" he replied, not hiding his joy. Jolias drop down his short and released his "monster". Craaaaaaaap ! I think I'll never get used to this amazing view. Long, thick, venous, his member was in the image of his body: perfectly perfect ! He put the ring around his cock. "Max, give me your phone." I gave him, he fiddled few seconds then: "....... here it is, it's installed ! Just open the app, select the ring and enter the password. Well, I wouldn't want anyone else playing with my dick hahahaha !" "What's the password ?" "makemecum123" "......." "Well... we check that it works ?" said Jolias, in smiling. I opened the app, I selected the ring and I entered the password. As soon as I did, a small light lit up on the ring. "Oh crap ! aaaaaaaaaaaahhh... fuck....ggnnnnnnaaaaaaaahhhh....it's...ooooooooooohh...so...aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh... gooooooood....aaaaAAAAAAAAaaaAAAAAHHH oooOooooOOOOooOOOOOHHHHH !!!!!!" Jolias was moaning about 15 seconds then.. "Oh CRAP !...I'm....aaaaaaaah....cumminNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!" Like me, his dick spat out its white juice. A dozen charges splashed on the ground. "ha......ha.....ha....ha.....ha....craaaaaaap....ha...ha...ha... it's even better than I imagined and damn, it's not going to be easy to hold back !" Jolias pulled up his short and watched the clock. "Well, I thin it's time to go to college... And (boy)friendly advice Max, take several underwear and pants in your bag, you're probably going to cream on some hahahaha !" "Hehe but look out Jolias... because I can return the favour hehehehe !" "Ah but I hope so !" The school was only about ten minutes on foot, on the way, I couldn't focus on other thing than this embracing sensation at the base of my cock. It wasn't unpleasant, I just wasn't used to it. Arf, the first course was philosophy. I dislike this course, the teacher was so boring. Jolias and I were still sitting next to each other, by the way, that was how I met him, I remember staring at him for several seconds and then when he noticed me, I couldn't look at him all the way, but my heart was racing, it was only the next time we started talking, he never told me but I'm sure he didn't sit there by chance. But today we decided to step aside, so that we could admire the other in action without appearing too suspicious. If we were seen moaning, next to each other, I think our notoriety would take a big hit. Craaaaaaaap, as planned, this course is sooooo boring... Discreetly, I took my phone and send a message to Jolias. *Man, this course is so boring ! Can't wait for the end !* Few seconds later, he replied. *Boring ? Even with... this ?* As soon as I finished reading the sentence, my eyes were widening: I felt an intense vibration at the base of my dick FUck ! Fucking fuck Jolias ! Not now dude ! And I received another message: *Hahahahaha you should see your face dude ! And I know what you are thinking: not now, right ? But this is war my dear Max hehe ! So...enjoy ! :)" Crap, fucking crap !!! If I was at home, I would have enjoyed it but not here, no way that I cum in course ! I closed my mouth and clenched my teeth. Oh fucking crap ! It was so good ! How do you want to resist to this ? I try to seem normal but inside, I was clenching my teeth to the max, I squeeze my fist and I'm sure you could see veins on my forehead. Fuck Max ! Don't come, don't moan, Don't come, don't moan, don't come, don't moan... and of course it was already over for the last one. "......NNggnhh............." ... and obviously during a moment of silence. "Are you alright Max ?" asked the teacher. CRAP he noticed ! I tried as best I could to answer... "...nnngh....yeah....yeah...just...a...slight indigestion....It's...it's..okay..." He looked at me in disbelief... and continued Oh gosh thanks ! I was looking towards Jolias: he was completely amused by the situation, unable to hide a slight laugh. Crap Jolias, my vegeance will be a dish best served cold, or rather a cum best served hot ! My face started to turn red, I couldn't take it anymore, I need to cum. I spread my legs so that my trousers don't stick to my underwear. I could resist for a few more seconds and then the floodgates opened. My cock was spraying my underwear of his white liquid. I tried to stay stoic and produce no sound. but I could be seen to have a slight spasm with each load. And if you find that easy, I invite you to try, no sound, no reaction: it's FUCKING hard. I don't know how many loads I shot, but my underwear was warm, soaked and above all sticky. Fortunately, I put tightening boxer, which helps to keep it out of the way. But fucking crap, I couldn't spend the rest of the day like this, especially since I feel like I shot more than usual, so... go toilets ! But for to not be suspicious, I asked the teacher. "Hem, sorry Mister, but I need to go 2 minutes at toilets." "You are a big boy now Max, no need to ask me but thanks, just don't disturb others" Ouf! This was one of the advantages of the college, be able to slip away whenever you want. if I had been in high school, it would have been a disaster. I went out quickly of the room, in trying to not show that I had flooded my underwear. Once in the toilet, I checked that there was no one, I would lock myself in a cabin and took off my trouser. ...... HO-LY CRAP !!! I was right, I was swimming in cum. My underwear was almost entirely soaked ! SHit, I had rarely shot so much !! Craaaaaaaaaaaappppppp !!!! It was warm, thick and sticky, creamy. It seemed... delicious ! if I wasn't at school, I would have tasted it but really not a good idea. Well, I had taken an airtight bag and especially deodorant, A LOT OF DEODORANT. If I could hide my trophies easily, there was one thing that was less easy to hide: the smell. If I'd just put it in my bag I'd be toast in two seconds. I put on clean underwear and returned in course. When I entered in the room and Jolias saw me, I could see his smile grow. Oh man, wait, it will be your turn soon hehehe ! No sooner had I returned to my seat than I received a message from Jolias: *So, how the battle went ?* And I replied: *I was able to hold off the attacker for 5 minutes but they gained ground and broke through my defence. The courtyard of the castle was invaded !* The wording was weird but I don't want anyone to pick up my phone and see "Oh I have the best orgasm of my life in middle of course, I flowded my underwear !" And Jolias replied: *Hahahaha needed the biggest walls !* Yeah well I would have liked to see him there... Finally, the course ended, the next was history course. Jolias disliked this course. So we were going to make it more interesting ! But I would strike when he least expected it. the class started and the teacher began a long monologue (and yeah, it was boring). But personally, I was concentrated on Jolias, which, as it went along, almost fell asleep and at some point, he ends up closing his eyes... YES ! it was time to strike ! I'll give you the best alarm clock ever, my dear Jolias ! I opened the app, I selected the ring and entered the password... mmmh.. what was it again ? .. Ah yes, "makemecum123" and don't worry Jolias, you will cum hehehe ! Just before to apply, I looked Jolias, he was almost slept. Haha dude, you're going to have one of those wake-up calls, the best of your life ! I confirmed. Almost instantly, he opened his eyes at once. He tried to hide it but I could see clearly he was panting. Then he looked me. I gave him a discreet wave of the hand then I sent him a message. *In war as in war my love !* I saw him slighty laugh but quickly interrupted, he was clearly tense, as strong as I was. So, it's not easy Jolias, right ? I could see by his head and his fists, completely closed and clenched, that he was fighting hard. Then, like me, he couldn't help but let out a slight. "NNNGHnnnnn.........." "hem Jolias... are you okay ?" asked the teacher. Jolias was lucky that his very tanned skin didn't show quickly that he was blushing but I knew it, he was embarassed. "nnnngggnn.....Yeah.......yeah...just......just a little indigestion..." Oh the copier hahahaha ! I tried to show if he had already came or not. And suddenly, I had had my answer. I saw his eyes opened even wider, his fists clench harder and he had like spasms. That's it, the fire hose had just been turned on and then several dozen seconds later he relaxed. Well, no doubt, his underwear should be totally soaked. I didn't see wet patch on his short, he had managed it well but knowing him, he had to put on several layers of underwear. ".....sorry Mister but... I have to go to toilets, just 2 minutes" Hahaha crap, he's going to steal all my excuses or ... ? After few minutes, I sent him a message for know the situation. And he replied me: *Maaaan, I put two walls for to have better defenses and... the first layer is COMPLETELY destroyed ! Fucking craaaaaaap ! And the second one took a lot too ! It's so insane !* Hahaha well, this first battle was full of surprises and intense ! In any cases, it was fucking hard to control not to say impossible but that's what was good !! Jolias come back few minutes later, with a bag which must smell the deodorant hahaha ! Finally the courses ended and I joined Jolias outside. "So, how was your battle ?" he asked me, in smiling. "Fuck man, it was insane and insanely hard to be retained !" "Hahaha yeah, I agree, but little advice: put several underwear, it will help to absorb. Especially since, I don't know about you but I shot twice as much as usual" "Yeah, I had the same thing, impossible to stop, it shooted again and again and again. My underwear was totally soaked" I replied "Hahaha we will not have to forget to make turn the washing machine this evening if not one will be very quickly short of underwear !" said Jolias. "I have to admit that we're going to use dozens of them a day ! By the way, I have to go to the city, I wanted to buy some new clothes, are you coming with me or are you going home ?" "Of course I'm coming with you !" "Well ! ... AH ! Here is the bus !" As usual we put ourselves in the background, it was more discreet and I do not know but ... I expected another "attack". Indeed, Jolias was playing with his telehpne and I was expecting to feel my ring vibrate at any moment, especially since he liked to do it in uncomfortable situations. And getting a gift in the middle of a bus ride was not a comfortable situation. Suddenly, I saw him raise an eyebrow, as if surprised... I wonder what made him .. !! aaaaaAAaaaaAAAAAAaaaAAAAAaaaAAAAHHHHHH !!!!!!! SHIT !!! FUCKING SHIT !!! I fucking knew it, he couldn't help it !!! Fuck Jolias, we are in a bus and you'll make me flood my underwear now ? Seriously ? OOoOOOoOOOOoOOOooooOOOOHHHHH !!!! Fuck, fucking fuck !!! It was good, it was... so fucking good ! Like in class, I was trying to hide it but you could clearly see that I was tense and trembling slightly. Fuck ! AAAAaaaaAAAAAAaaaaaaaAAAAAaaaAAAAHHHHHHH !!!!! But something new has happened: you know that feeling you get just before an orgasm ? Usually you feel it "where it belongs" right ? Well, here I had the impression that it was... spreading. It was not just my pelvis area, NNNnnnnngnnnngnnnhhhhhh !!!! I also started to feel it in my legs, my chest and little by little it spread to my whole body. OoOOOOooooooOoOOOOoooooOOOOOHHHHHH GOOOOOSH !!! it was like... I had a total masturbation of my whole body. And I was hot, more and more. And I looked at my arms and I could see that I was more vascular. And I could feel my heart beating super fast Fucking fuck.... FUCKING FUCK ! What was going on ? What the fuck was going on ? It wasn't normal, it wasn't normal at all !! I was trying so hard to resist, some tears even flowed but.. Don't cum Max, you're in a bus, your body seems to have an erection and it all makes no sense but don't cum ! ... Damn it was hard ! It was FUCKING HARD ! Even harder than in class... Jolias nudged me and showed me his phone. On it was written: "So, this battle ?" As I suspected it was him but... I don't think he noticed that there was anything different here. Maybe I was having an allergic reaction... In any case I really had the feeling that my body was congested. And it seemed to increase. Then a wave of pleasure went through me and I knew the fight was lost. My "cannon" was about to fire ! And few seconds later, I fired... I shooted, big load after big load, covering my underwear of cum and trying to swallow my moans and... shit, FUCKING SHIT ! I could see a wet patch on my pants. Not huge but it meant that my underwear was not enough. And clearly, he was flowded, I could feel it sticking to my skin. Then the "congestion" disappear in same time than I stopped to cumming. Honestly, I was a bit panicked. I was not surprised for the masturbate session but for the other thing, it wasn't clearly normal. I almost felt like my whole body was... swelling... But it's ridiculous, muscle growths as in the cartoon didn't exist. However, I really the feeling to be... pumped. And Jolias did not seem to have noticed. Well, it's our stop. we got off the bus and I tried not to show too much of my wet patch, well, here it was not just a wet patch, it had widened. "Fuck dude ! Thanks for the surprise attack, now my underwear sticks to my skin !" I said, sarcastically. "Hahahaha !! It was boring so it was necessary to spice up this journey a bit, no ?" "Yeah super... but now I have a underwear soaked of cum and I have to go in a shopping center full of people, thank you very much..." "Hahahahaha !! Don't worry, I have my stock of underwear and pants, we are going to need it I think. And little advice: put two or even three underwear. We don't know what can happen.." he said me in smiling. Crap, I bet he was going to do it again in the mall... I took his underwears and pant, found a quiet place and I changed my clothes..... FUCKING CRAP ! No wonder I had a wet patch; my underwear was completely FLOWED ! CRAAAAAAAAAP !! Well, if I put this in my bag it will stink... I was getting rid of my old clothes and dressed me again. Yes, it was really the right time to buy new ones ! We entered in the mall.
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