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  1. Author’s note: This story feels like a bit of a risk for me. It is a muscle growth story, but it’s unlike any I’ve written for this site. I know that most of the stories I publish on this site have an emphasis on character, theme, and plot, but this story has even more of a focus on those elements. Also, it’s more of a slow burn than any of my other stories, and my stories already are quite slow burns (by design). In fact, these aspects of the story were so unignorable to me that I was very close to removing the muscle growth aspects of the story and working it into a novel that I would try to publish elsewhere. Ultimately, though, I decided the muscle growth aspects of this story were inextricable and un-excisable, so I let the work stand as it is. At the same time, it felt unfair not to give the reader a head’s up. I will continue to update Weird, but Sweet and this for as long as there’s an audience for both. TL;DR: if you’re looking for a quick wank, try another story. If you’re looking for a story with some erotic elements, read on.
  2. EtherealGrowth

    A friend like me

    With the new year commencing and fresh ideas churning in my mind, I find it is time I share a story once again. This theme keeps on lingering in my mind and it is just very fitting for this particular audience. I've written a similar story once before but unfortunately it has vanquished into the abyss after the server crash. You could say the story you're about to read, especially it's details, also faded away in time... A friend like me - Chapter 1: It's a BAZAAR world out there The thing with fairytale, myths, and folklore is that the details and often not so happy-go-lucky endings are frequently left out or changed. This story is no exception to that phenomenon, which is why it is definitely worth reading. Now... let's begin our story in the land where caravan camels roam. Dashing through the narrow streets, products rolling of carts, freshly hung laundry falling on the dusty paths, and sweat travelling down his body. A quick, hooded, figure made his way through the busy Bazaar aiming for the outskirts of the city, a bag hanging over his shoulders. Tumultuous sounds heard all over the place. "STOP! THIEF!!!" a buldering voice echoed from behind him. The chasers were surely gaining on him and it was almost over for him. In a split second a little throwing-knife slid from under his sleeve and with a flick of his wrist it dashed toward the inner gate. The knife made a clean cut through the rope and the gate started to lower. The figure dug under the falling gate and a loud crash followed as it hit the ground. He looked back through the gate's bars and saw an exhausted Royal Guard unit; led by THE Razoul himself. "Always fancy seeing you my fellow Agrabahnians and have an enchanting day" the supposed thieve said. Quickly the figure disappeared into the busy crowd of working folk and continued his way onward. While our stranger is continuing his way, I'll shed some light on the time and scenery we're dealing with. This story, as you've probably already guessed, takes place in Agrabah; wealthiest of the kingdoms in the Seven Deserts and most strategically located within the Citadel. It is currently under the rule of the Hamed Sultanate, with its current head of state: Sultan Hamed III. A city of mystery, of enchantment, and the finest merchandise this side of the River Jordan! A real melting pot of social classes. Before I start rambling about this bustling city, let's get back to the story. Our mysterious stranger had made his way to the infamous, Thieves Quarters, a place where crime was the norm and not the exception. Not the safest place to be you'd expect but because of its reputation, not many dared go there. Amidst the Thieves Quarters was the Street of Forty Thieves, where our protagonist reached into the well to grab a key. He walked up to a stack of barrels, inserted the key somewhere on the side, turned it and entered the building through the entrance. He was greeted by the sweet smell of perfume lingering in the room. He looked around but saw no-one, he shrugged and dumped the bag in the kitchen area. "You must be Devi," a female voice said. His heart jumped as he turned around and saw a young woman brew herself some tea. "Fuck, you scared the shit out of me... But you're correct m'lady!" Devi said. The woman laughed softly and said: "I heard you had some rooms available, you know, the of the grid kinda type". "Definitely, however I usually hear about arrivals from my companions beforehand," he replied. The lady apologised and told him she would pay extra for the inconvenience. Devi walked over to a little counter, bowed down, pointing his juicy cakes up to the sky, and reached for a key. He pointed to the stairs and directed her to her room: "This is yours, make yourself at home. It ain't much but you won't be bothered by whomever you're running from". "I'm not running from anyone perse," she said, "I'm merely here for observation; Celeste is the name by the way". "I honestly don't need to know miss, the less I know, the better I can protect you" Devi said. Celeste smiled and handed Devi the money, a bunch of exotic coins, but whatever. Devi left the room and started stocking the cabinets with the products he "brought"... You must know Agrabah isn't the easiest city to live in as a mere street rat, or mice if you're female, but juggling a couple of jobs most can get by. This story however, takes place amidst the hottest summer recorded yet. Most crops had decayed, the harvest was practically ruined and the lower class was starting to crumble. It is still a flourishing city, with all its export of silks and jewels, but the scarce import of food is mainly directed towards the upper-class. All the fault of the cowardly Sultan Hamed. "Challenging times are they not..." Celeste said spontaneously. "By the djinn!" Devi said, "How are you so quiet?! But yeah, this Sultan is really making a mess out of it." Devi continued stocking his supply as Celeste stumbled across the walls of the room. It was incredibly hot in the room, the sweat pretty much streaming from his face. Devi took of his hood, revealing his tan and muscular arms, covered in intricate tattoos. Devi had always been quite athletic and was generally gifted in the muscle department. His height wasn't spectacular at 5'7" but he made up for it in raw, pure muscle strength. His arms were big, sturdy forearms, big begins slithering over them, topped with perfectly rounded, 20-inch, biceps. You could clearly sea the musculature of his upper body through the thin and drenched tanktop he wore underneath. Celeste glanced at him, blushed, and quickly continued scanning the shelves. Devi was finished stocking up and quickly smelled his armpits and they smelled utterly foul, like beyond the musk that would make the average human feel horny. "Who are this?" Celeste asked holding a piece of papyrus. Devi walked over and said: "It's me and my mom, she actually started this safe haven years ago. Initially so my dad could return home because he was falsely accused by some vizier." "And this?" Celeste asked. "That's Al, my bonus brother, and his pet monkey Abu. We took him in as a kid and cared for him, since his parents abandoned him. I was always ready to fight for him, good guy! Haven't seen him in a while though..." Devi said. Celeste looked over her shoulder, right into Devi's amber eyes, then looking at his chiseled chin and dark beard covering his chin, his man-bun sagging from its hairband. Devi also glanced into her light grey, almost white, eyes and quickly announced he was gonna wash himself real quick. He rushed towards the washing room on the patio, where he undressed, and started cleaning himself up a bit. After a while Devi was all cleaned and made his way to his room. In all the commotion he totally forgot that he had a guest over and well before he knew it he heard a clattering sound. Celeste had dropped a little plant in a pot when she saw him walking towards her. There Devi stood, butt-naked, his dark long locks still a bit wet and hanging over his pecs. Celeste was presently surprised by what she saw. A beautiful young man with stunning arms, his pecs also covered in tattoos and bulging outwards, topped with pointy nipples. The kind of pecs that sensually bounce when you walk. Underneath a beautiful 6-pack of abs. His whole body was covered in a musky layer of hair. Devi's legs were also impressive, they were thick, you could clearly point out all the different muscle groups within them. Mostly she was amazed by the 6-inch flaccid cock that was dangling between his legs, promptly pressed forward by a pair of luscious balls the size of eggs. "I'm so incredibly sorry, I totally forgot you were here," Devi stammered, "I'll get you some food on the house as compensation!" Celeste looked at him and grinned. "I know a better way to compensate me..." she said and with a flick of her wrist here beautiful, white, silk dress loosened and fell on the floor. The room now filled with two naked individuals. Devi couldn't control his lust and like an animal he rushed towards Celeste. He lifted her up and pressed her body against the wall. The two started kissing furiously as they made their way to Devi's bedroom. On the way Devi's 6-inch flaccid dick turned into a juicy 10-inch poker with a mushroom head on top. Devi threw Celeste on the bed and carefully started caressing her body. She wore beautiful jewelry and wore a silky cover over her heaving breasts. Devi removed the cover and continued kissing her boobs. Celeste started pounding his muscles while Devi was giving her all the poses. He then flipped her around, grabbed her hair, and pounded her for a good while in doggy-style. "RRRRRrrrrrhaaaa... rrrhhaaaa," echoed through the room with every powerful thrust, making Celeste's boobs jiggle up and down, as well as Devi's juicy ass. Just before he climaxed, he pulled out, and a sweet stream of cum landed on Celeste's breasts. Celeste hadn't had such great sex in a long while but was flustered by what happened when Devi climaxed. His eyes, interestingly enough, flared a bright amber coloured light, almost like a flame, when he did. Without giving it much thought, the two slowly drifted away into the world of dreams, a world of endless possibility... Meanwhile within the inner walls of the city, in the Royal Guard HQ, the mood was quite different. Razoul had returned from the Bazaar with the taxes they'd earned from directing the goods to the right merchants. While the poor despised this system, the rich, and mainly a certain vizier, wazir, alchemist, whatever you wanna call him, benefitted the most from it. Almost as if he had a hand in enforcing this new law, like he planted this idea into the Sultan's mind... "You bunch of second-best imbeciles!" a voice bellowed, "How can you lose all that valuable merchandise to a mere street rat". "Vizier Jafar, we were simply outnumbered..." Razoul lied. "Yeah yeah, 10 guys" ... "At least 30 guys were in on it" two guards said at the same time. Razoul quickly shushed them. "Lying now, are we?" Jafar said, "For that you'll be punished Razoul! Leave us be you two!" With a swish of Jafars cobra-headed staff the doors opened and the two rushed out. "Time to pay, my little servant!" Jafar said with a grinn on his face. Razoul undressed, revealing his big and bulky muscle swine body and a leather jockstrap containing a small and fat cock. Razoul was a big dude, about 300 pounds, bulky muscles all over his body, a real muscle swine kinda body, a thick layer of hair all over. A real jiggly bubble butt portruding from behind. He got down on his knees, pulled Jafar's robe to the side and started caressing Jafar's monster cock. It was long and veiny with a cockring on top. "Choke you useless piece of meat!" Jafar said, grabbing Razoul's head and pressing it firmly on his groin. Razoul gave Jafar an insane blowjob, using all the tricks he had up his sleeve. All the while Jafar was humiliating him for his tiny cock. At the end of the heavenly blowjob Razoul's eyes were starting to tear up from the ginormous stallion. Jafar pulled out and said: "Yes... YES... YEHES!!! Serve me, my little bitch!" as he came all over Razoul's face. Thick streaks of cum still running over Razoul's face as Jafar commanded him to get back to work. Eventhough Jafar knew Razoul enjoyed this punishment, it was still worth it considering the immense pleasure it gave him. Razoul was about to leave when Jafar asked: "Enlighten me, cumface, who stole the goods?" "Don't think we've ever caught him sir!" Razoul answered, "He did, however, have very noticeable tattoos om his hands and chest and his eyes had a very mystical amber kinda colour." Jafar mumbled something as he pulled a book from the shelf, opening a secret entrance to his system of tunnels and alleyways throughout the city, quickly disappearing into the darkness...
  3. Dostille

    Zap!

    *This is my first story ever – please feel free to critique + add suggestions!* Zap! Once upon a time, there was a man named Jake. He had always been self-conscious about his body, growing up he was bullied for being overweight and never felt comfortable in his own skin. However, he had always been attracted to men with big muscles and strong bodies, and he had always dreamed of having a physique like that. He had always wanted to have bigger muscles, to feel more confident and to be able to defend himself. He spent hours at the gym, trying to achieve his dream body but never really seeing the results he desired. One day, while browsing through an antique shop, he stumbled upon a tiny ray gun. The shop was dimly lit, with old dusty items scattered about, and the smell of musty wood in the air. The ray gun was an ancient-looking device, with intricate engravings and a strange arm symbol on the handle. He had no idea what the ray gun did, but he was intrigued by its unique design and decided to buy it. As he was leaving the shop, he saw a gym across the street and decided to check it out. Inside, he saw a guy with huge arms and chest lifting heavy weights. The guy had biceps that were so big they looked like they were about to burst out of his skin, his chest was also impressively massive, and his pecs were perfectly defined. He was lifting weights that Jake couldn't even dream of lifting, each dumbbell easily weighed at least 50 pounds each. The man’s body was dusted in a light coating of hair, glistening sweat running down his rippling muscles and had coursing blood flow of testosterone filled veins popping out of his arms like pythons. Jake couldn't help but feel a rush of arousal as he watched the guy flex and lift. He decided to try out the ray gun and aimed it at the guy's arms. The ray gun made a tiny electrical buzz but the beam was completely invisible. Nothing happened for a few minutes and then, to his surprise, the guy's strength slowly began to fade, making it harder for him to lift the weights rep by rep. His first set had started at an easy set of 12 but the second set he could barely lift the dumbbells for three reps before failure. Jake couldn't believe what was happening, but he couldn't deny the feeling of power and excitement it gave him. As he continued to watch the guy struggle with his lifts, Jake's own muscles began to grow and his clothes started to stretch. He could feel the power coursing through his body, and he couldn't stop himself from staring at another gym-goer with huge quads. Jake: "Wow, look at those quads on that guy. I bet he's really strong." Jake said in a noticeably deeper voice Friend: "Yeah, he's been working out for a long time. You should talk to him, maybe he could give you some tips." Jake: "Yeah, maybe I will." As the second gym-goer was doing squats, Jake zapped him with the ray gun and watched as his strength slowly began to fade. The guy had legs that were massive, his quadriceps were bulging out of his shorts, and his muscles rippling as he lifted the weights. He was lifting weights that Jake couldn't even dream of lifting, the barbell was loaded with plates that weighed at least 600 lbs. Jake couldn't stop grinning as he felt his own legs growing bigger and stronger. He could see his own quadriceps bulging out of his shorts and his muscles rippling as he flexed. His calf muscles became round and firm, his thigh muscles rippling with power. As he continued to use the ray gun, Jake noticed some changes in his body. He had more body hair and a slightly deeper voice each time he used the ray gun. His muscles were getting bigger and harder, and previously barely-there chest hair was becoming coarser, slightly catching on his tight workout shirt as he stood up. Jake's boyfriend couldn't help but notice the changes in his body. He kept commenting on how the gym was paying off, and she couldn't get enough of his growing muscles. Jake felt a surge of testosterone as he flexed in front of him, showing off an impressive physique. Jake: "I can't believe how much stronger I'm getting. I've never felt this good before." Boyfriend: "I know, it's amazing. Your muscles are getting bigger and bigger every day. I can't keep my hands off of them." "I don't know how you're doing it, but it's working. Keep it up." Jake knew that he had found a secret weapon that would help him achieve his goals faster and more efficiently. He continued to use the ray gun every time he went to the gym and he saw his muscles grow at an alarming rate. His biceps bulged out of his sleeves like he had always dreamed, his chest became more defined and his legs became bigger and more muscular, filling out his shorts like tree trunks. He had never felt so confident and attractive. He was addicted to the feeling of power that came with the ray gun, and he knew that he would never give it up. He was determined to become the most muscular and attractive man in the gym. Jake's newfound confidence and muscle mass attracted attention from other gym-goers, and some of them even asked him for tips on nutrition and how to use machines properly. He couldn't help but feel powerful and in control as chose victims to “borrow” a bit of their strength. However, Jake kept the secret of the ray gun to himself, enjoying the feeling of power it gave him and the attention it brought him. One day, after a hard workout set that left him feeling pumped and energized, Jake decided to head to the sauna to relax and unwind. As he entered the sauna, he felt the heat envelop him, and he couldn't help but feel invigorated. He slowly stripped off his shirt, revealing his hot, glistening body, and as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he couldn't believe what he saw. He saw a man with an Adonis-like body staring back at him. His muscles were perfectly defined and rippling, his chest was impressively massive and his pecs were perfectly defined, his abs were like a washboard, his biceps were like bowling balls. He couldn't help but admire his physique, he felt like a Greek God, he flexed his muscles and felt the power coursing through his veins. He knew that he had finally achieved his dream body, and he felt proud and accomplished. He was built like a tank, he had shoulders as broad as a door with every muscle perfectly defined. He turned around to check out his back, he was impressed by the way his lats flared out and his traps stood out like mountains. He was truly a sight to behold. He couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and arousal as he admired his own muscles in the mirror, he knew that he had worked hard to achieve this physique and it was all worth it. Then, just after Jake was finishing up in the sauna, a new guy walked in that caught his eye. He was tall, with globe-like boulder shoulders and a chiseled chest. Clearly, he had been working out for years, dedicating himself to achieving such an impressive physique. Jake couldn't help but stare, shoulders were always his weak point, and he had never seen such a massive set before. He felt a rush of arousal as he watched the guy walk by, the way his muscles flexed and bulged with each movement, it was like watching a work of art in motion. He smiled mischievously and introduced himself as he offered to help spot his new gym buddy. The guy looked at Jake with a smile and said "Sure, I could use a spotter."
  4. Chapter 1 The bell above the door drew my attention as it clanged loudly. While the door swung open, I handed the customer at the counter in front of me their bread and change, but I was looking at Mason, who was walking through the door. I knew I loved Mason when he first walked through that same door two years ago. Same height as me (5’ 10”), but all skinny and slight with an adorable hipster mustache and well-groomed scruff. The second I saw his floofy light brown hair and soulful brown eyes, I was in love, no matter how much I tried to deny it to myself. He dressed like a dork, but he didn’t care. And because he didn’t care, I didn’t care. He had an easy smile, a way that made people feel comfortable, and a whimsical sense of humor. He has a youthfulness about him, and he’s three years older than me. All about him is a quiet confidence. I was hiring an accountant to help save my bakery, but I found the man of my dreams. At the time, I didn’t trust the instant attraction. For one, I was a solitary man. I wasn’t entirely lonely, but I was alone. Sure, I dated, and I was friendly to all my customers. But I was also guarded. I had no close friends, and none of my boyfriends ever got to know the real me. There was physical intimacy, but no emotional intimacy. The only person I could be myself around was my Gramps. I had a secret to protect. More than that, before Mason, every man I’d ever dated had been bigger than me, and I’m a buff, lean, and muscular 190 pounds. I just liked guys who were bigger than me. Hell, I’d held myself back from getting as big as I truly wanted to be because I wanted a to be a big man in a relationship with a bigger man. Every guy I dated I’d met at the gym, and I go to a gay gym that has some bodybuilders—had for years. If you’re picking up guys from a pool of bodybuilders, the chances that they’re going to be bigger than you just go up. I think the fact that Mason was so unlike every other guy I’d dated was part of the appeal. We were the same, but different. Complementary. We both loved to joke around, we both were childish, but we both took the business seriously. If one of us got too silly, the other would bring him back to Earth, and if one of us got too serious, the other would send him into a fit of laughter. He dressed loudly and garishly, but had an unshakably professional demeanor. I dressed plainly and pragmatically, but would laugh and flirt with the customers. Even just how we styled our hair complemented—the hair on his head was free-flowing and wild with a devil-may-care flair, but his facial hair was strictly groomed with no follicle out of place and his mustache tightly curled at the ends. I kept my dark black hair in a youthful cut with the sides buzzed, kept in place with enough product so it didn’t come loose as I worked. I tried to keep myself clean shaven (even though I love facial hair) because it made me look younger than my 30 years, but I often forget to shave, meaning I had lazy (and, if I may say so, sexy) scruff more often than not. In my eyes, Mason was perfect. Before we had even exchanged hellos, I knew I wanted him., on some deep, profound, mystical level, like my ancestors were calling out to me, saying, “That one!” I didn’t even care that I technically had a boyfriend when I met Mason. I just knew I wanted Mason more than any man I’d ever wanted. Two years later, and the bakery and our relationship were thriving. A year ago, Mason had moved in with me, into the apartment above the bakery. All of the businesses on this street have residences above them. We live in a small city just outside New York, a tourist town really. It’s big enough to have the amenities of a typical city, like a professional gym and a thriving arts scene, but small enough to have local charm, like a street full of people living in the apartments above their mom and pop businesses. Since Mason had moved in, we shared pretty much everything. Pretty much. Almost everything. I still had that one big secret I kept from him, but the secret was protecting him, not hurting him. Sometimes I felt guilty that I was holding back a big part of my life from him, but I’d never shared that part of my life with any of my boyfriends. Mason was different, though. I knew the day would come when I’d let him in on it. Just not yet. Mason had proposed to me the day before. We were too busy fucking each other’s brains out the night prior to share any life-altering secrets. As soon as I had an opening, I’d tell him. If I was ready to marry the man, I was ready to share everything everything with him. This day, Mason was dressed unusually. I was used to him dressed like an overgrown toddler: t-shirts with cartoon characters, brightly colored socks, and blue jeans. It wasn’t uncommon for him to wear crocs or suspenders. Sometimes both in the same outfit. This outfit, though… He was in a very sharp suit: a silvery trim fit number with an ice blue shirt (to match my eyes) and a bold purple tie. “Have a nice day,” I told the customer, but my gaze never left Mason. My smile grew larger as he nervously came over to the counter, practically stuttering and stopping with each step. Odd again. I was used to Mason being smooth, charming, and confident—verging on cocky. Today, though, he was trying to hold back his anxiety. Thankfully, he relaxed a little when he saw my smile. “Someone’s dressed up,” I said, eyeing him up and down. “You’re cutting the line,” a customer complained to Mason. I realized I’d been neglecting my customers, turned to them, and said, “He’s cutting nothing, ma’ am. He works here. He’s my boyfriend.” “Fiancé,” Mason corrected. “Fiancé. Right.” It had been about twelve hours since Mason had popped the question; I was still adjusting. The only person I’d told was my Gramps. I smiled at my customer. “Just a moment, please.” I turned back to Mason. “Where were we?” Mason leaned across the counter and kissed me. “You like?” he asked, already clearly knowing I loved it. I loved him in everything. Or nothing. The same customer, an irksome woman in a bright pink sweater, cleared her throat impatiently. “Kayla, get off prep and help the customers for a little bit,” I said, taking the kerchief I used as a hairnet off my head. “I’m going to the office with Mason.” “Got it, Roy,” Kayla said as she swooped in to help the customers. I ducked under the opening in the counter (rather than opening it) and followed Mason to our office. Once the door was closed behind us, I turned around to undo my drawstring. “Again?” He asked, stopping my hands from untying my pants. “Three times last night wasn’t enough?” He smirked with sexual tension as he walked over to the other side of the office, putting space between us. Our sexual dynamic was part of what I loved about him. He preferred to bottom, I preferred to top. I was usually the aggressor, and he usually gave the green light. But he said no just enough to keep me simmering like a teapot, and initiated just often enough to keep me on my toes. I couldn’t help that I was blessed with a high libido and an 8-inch dick. Mason himself had a lovely 6 inches and had, in my experience, a higher than average sex drive. It just was a little lower than mine. Since sex was a no-go, I’d settle for some above the clothes fun. I slinked towards him, ready to practically leap on him—a dangerous prospect as I easily outweighed him by more than 50 pounds, all of it muscle—but he stopped me again. “You’re covered in flour and god knows what else, and this is a new suit,” he warned. Then, realizing he wanted his lips pressed against mine, he added, “Proceed with caution.” I walked over to him slowly and kissed him tenderly. I wanted to throw my firm, large arms around him and cradle him against my proud chest, but I restrained myself. Mason moaned in delight. As the kiss neared its end, I slapped him firmly but playfully on the ass, and a cloud of particles erupted from the impact. I grinned widely, but he spun around trying to look at his own ass, his recent anxiety threatening to surface again. “Damn it, Roy,” he said, laughing. “Did it leave a mark?” He looked at me the way one would look at a cute puppy that had peed on the rug. There was a white outline of my meaty hand on his tiny ass, and I said, “Looks perfect to me.” “Really?” he asked. “I’m meeting your grandfather in an hour, and I want to look my best.” I kissed him again quickly and then said, “Gramps will love you because I love you.” Mason tensed a little. “I wish I were so certain, Roy. The man raised you all by himself. You call him every day. It’s weird, but sweet.” “It’s not weird,” I said, a little defensively. I knew it was weird, though. Everything about Gramps was weird. But, like me, he kept all of the true weirdness a deep secret. All of our weirdness. Mason implying that the nurturing, caring, intense bond between Gramps and me was weird… Well, if he knew Gramps as well as I did, those qualities wouldn’t even make his list. “It’s kinda weird,” Mason said. “You blow him kisses goodbye over the phone.” “He’s my Gramps,” I replied, unsure how that was weird. Reassuringly, he added, “It’s more sweet than weird. If you weren’t a little weird, I wouldn’t be drawn to you. Weird but sweet is my favorite quality in a man.” I blushed a little. Mason continued, “Your grandfather is your entire family. You’ve told me as much, and I listen.” Mason began lecturing me to prove how much he listened, counting off important points on his fingers. “You have no brothers or sisters, no aunts or uncles. Your father was out of the picture before you were born, your mother died of kidney disease before your first birthday, and your grandmother died of a heart attack when you were three.” He stopped counting and threw his hands in the air. “Honey, I’m not just meeting your grandfather. I’m meeting your entire family at once. I’m allowed to be a little nervous.” With a kindness in my tone, I said, “I’m just not used to seeing this color on you.” “He’s never shown the slightest interest in meeting me, and we’ve invited him down eight or nine times this past year. I mean, you’ve visited my folks five times already, and I’ve never even spoken with your grandfather over the phone. Then, you tell him you’re getting married, and he drives seven hours the very next day because, all of a sudden, he has to meet me? That bodes poorly. I should’ve met with him before I proposed to you.” I threw a confused look at him. “To what? Get his permission? Barter for my dowry?” “Don’t mock me.” “I’m not. Gramps was excited when I told him we’re getting married. He’s about to take that two-month cruise for his 81st birthday.” That was a lie. There was no cruise, but Gramps would be busy for two months, and it would take too much explaining to tell the truth. “That’s the only reason he wants to meet you so fast. Relax.” “You could take your own advice,” Mason chided. “You’ve been an over-eager little boy since he said he was visiting.” “Over-eager?” “I know every inch of your body.” Mason prodded my chest. “Your pecs are pumped, mister. You went to the gym this morning. Think I wouldn’t notice?” “I go to the gym five days a week.” “Yeah,” Mason said. “In the afternoons. Mornings are busy for bakers, you leave your evenings free for me, and you go to bed every night at 8. So, all you have left are afternoons. You wanted to look your biggest to impress him, and you wanted to have your whole afternoon free to play with him.” I was guilty as charged. Mason added, “Even though he said he was only coming for lunch, you cleared your whole afternoon.” “What’s your point?” I asked. Matter-of-factly, as if delivering the verdict of a trial, he said, “This is a big deal to you too. Therefore, it has to go perfectly.” “It will go perfectly because you’re perfect. All’s good with Gramps.” Mason paced a little. “That’s another thing. What do I call him?” “Whatever you want. Gramps is chill.” “You’ve only ever called him Gramps. Is that what I should call him? Or do I call him sir? Or Mr. Whitaker?” “Why would you call him that?” I asked with a slight laugh. “My last name is Whitaker. Not his. His last name is Morrow.” Mason stopped pacing. “Should I call him Mr. Morrow, then? What’s his first name?” “Lucian,” a grizzled voice came from the office door as it opened. “My name is Lucian Morrow.”
  5. Hi, everyone! So I'm starting this experimental series to see if a more traditional narrative would work here, and I would really appreciate all feedback and critique to help me improve. This is mostly going to involve more plot and character than growing, although there will still be a lot of growing done. It just won't be the main focus (for now). Writing is something I don't normally get to do on a regular basis, but it's something I want to make a living out of, so all advice is incredibly welcome. I am more than willing to alter the way the narrative develops and is written depending on how people prefer their pacing and writing. Thanks and enjoy! Hard at Work [Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5a -5b - 6 - 7 - 8a - 8b - 8c - 9 - 10 - 11a - 11b - 12a - 12b - 13a - 13b - 13c(?)] PART 1 Working at my job wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world, but it paid the bills. On an average day, I would sit at my desk, wondering how a bachelor’s degree in Chemistry got me a job in human resources. It’s not like I had particularly good chemistry with other people either. During my time at the company so far, I’ve only been able to get close to two people. One of them was a co-worker of mine named Marcus. He often pulled pranks on me and made childish jokes at my expense whenever we took a break for coffee. Normally, him being a 23-year-old man, anyone would expect some sort of maturity or sense of responsibility. Marcus was nothing of the sort. He played around far too much and just did whatever the hell he wanted to. Every attempt our boss had at scolding him fell on deaf ears. With any other employee, our boss’ words would stop us dead in our tracks. Boss had that charismatic, authoritative aura about him. Unlike Marcus, our boss, Mr. Wesley Smith, or just Wes, took everything seriously. He had a reputation to uphold. Sure, he had his fair share of dad jokes every now and then, but people in the workplace were already so used to Marcus’ absurd antics that nobody ever really noticed. The three of us were often referred to around the office as the “threesome of power.” In one way or another, we all held some sort of power around the office. Wes had his obvious influence and status. Marcus had his absurdity and over-all charisma. Compared to them, I didn’t have as much. All anyone ever told me was that I was the glue that held together our little threesome. In my opinion, it’s just an excuse to call us a threesome since we’re always together. I wasn’t a big fan of the name, honestly. Especially since I was the only gay one. The main reason people chose to describe us as a “threesome” specifically is that Marcus and Wes were probably the most attractive and sought-after guys at the workplace. Marcus was 5’11” and pretty damn attractive. He had wavy, blonde hair that looked like it was streaked with chocolate, and his eyebrows were incredibly thick and a deep chestnut. Of the three of us, he also had the best body. He had been a model in his university years, so he developed a toned, muscled body with a deep V-shaped torso and disproportionate pecs and shoulders. On the other hand, Wes wasn’t bad looking, but all his time spent in bars showed. He was a good-looking man for his age, 31, having South-East Asian genes, and he had a strong square face that accentuated his stocky figure, being only 5’6”. He did go to the gym after work, but he developed a gut after all the vodka. People often say his most attractive feature is his cat eyes. His eyebrows also tilted inwards, so he always had this fierceness about him. It didn’t seem like he was meant to be built in any way besides a small tank either. While Marcus and Wes were the stars of our threesome, I was labeled the “DUFF.” I was only 24, but the new terms the kids kept coming up with always got lost on me. I was the least attractive among us, I must admit. 5’7” isn’t exactly a height anyone would be flaunting off. It’s not that I looked like Quasimodo though. I was just… average—nothing spectacular about me. On one particularly rainy day, Marcus approached me at my desk, wearing his favorite sky blue button-down. He leaned over the divider with a coffee in his hand and sipped it so loudly it echoed. “What are we gonna do about the rain? Do you wanna just move bar night to Wes’ condo again?” he asked. “Yeah, but have you asked him? We might still be banned since you wrecked his condo the last time.” Marcus flubbed his lips, nearly spilling his coffee on my desk. “Don’t worry about it! Wes’ll understand. Besides, this time we got someone to clean our shit.” “I’m not cleaning your mess this time, Marcus.” “Not you, stupid. I meant the new intern. Wes said he was coming in today.” I looked at him, puzzled. “What new intern? No one told me about any new interns.” “That’s because you never join the meetings.” “What? The last meeting we had was two months ago, and literally all we talked about was how you put red food coloring in the water tanks to make it look like we were drinking blood.” Marcus laughed. “Well, now we just have meetings at the bar. I managed to convince him to move our meetings to the conference room with the dancers.” He chuckled. I sighed. “Fine, whatever. What’s his name? The intern, I mean.” “Ah, wait.” Eric brought out his phone. “I’ll ask Wes.” We waited for the phone to pick up. As soon as we heard Wes’ voice, Marcus didn’t hesitate to yell. “Yo, Wes!” I could hear an audible sigh come from the phone. “What’s up, Marcus? I’m kinda busy right now.” “I just told Dory about the new intern, but I forgot his name. What was it again?” “Froy Adamson. 20 years old from Harbridge University. He just texted and said he was coming up. Could you two let him in and show him around? Thanks.” “Sure thing, sir.” Marcus bounced his head to the side and looked at me as if he were planning something. He always did his squinted eyes, raised eyebrows, and pouted mouth. It was a staple of his. He wasn’t fooling anyone doing a face like that. I wonder if he ever noticed. He put the phone back in his pocket. “Well, Dory, looks like you’ve got some more work to do.” I knew it. “Seriously? Didn’t he tell us to handle him? To-ge-ther?” Marcus shrugged. “Well, I’ve got some work to do, and I’m reeaally tired.” He yawned. “You can handle the kid by yourself, right?” I said yes, and he was off, walking back to his desk. I don’t know why I let him do this to me. He’s lucky he was hot. Before I could prepare myself for the new intern, there was a knock coming from the glass door. I got up and headed over. Only people without access cards couldn’t get in and had to knock, which meant it had to be the intern. If I heard correctly, his name was supposed to be Froy, and a student at Harbridge… damn, someone was loaded. I got to the glass door and saw him standing outside. He was wearing a black button-down with his sleeves rolled up and skintight black jeans. They must have been pretty big too since he looked like he had to be at least 6’1”. His jet black hair was short and cropped with little spikes sticking up. He had a cute face too. He had the most precious baby button nose and pronounced dimples, making him look younger than he actually was. I wouldn’t be surprised if girls crushed on him everywhere. He had a decently lean body, but he definitely had bodybuilder potential by the way his broad shoulders stuck outwards, much like Marcus’. However, it didn’t seem like he was the braggart type. If anything, he was a bookworm. He looked like he lived and breathed in a library. All he was missing was a pair of glasses, but instead, he had the most perfect eyelashes. The poor thing seemed soaked by the rain. I opened the door for him and let him come inside, causing him to shiver in his shirt from the cold, freezer-like office temperature. He smiled at me and giggled nervously. “Sorry, sir,” he said with a nervous smile. “I forgot to bring an umbrella. I didn’t think it would rain today.” My heart hadn’t fluttered in so long by a guy’s voice. The last time I felt this elevated was when I was still in college and chatting up the star football athlete before he got caught doping and got expelled. I missed having crushes like this. Thankfully, Froy seemed to be legal. A co-worker of mine already got fired once for having “intimate relations” with an underage intern. I wasn’t going to be next. “It’s fine. Are you Froy?” I asked. He nodded. “Yes, sir. I was supposed to start last week, but my mother had an emergency at the hospital, so I couldn’t leave.” “It’s fine, don’t worry. Family first,” I said. “Did you bring an extra shirt? You might get sick if you wear that wet shirt here all day.” “No, sir. I don’t have anything to change into. Sorry.” I grabbed his forearm. “It’s fine. Here, I’ll let you borrow one of my backup shirts.” “Sir, are you sure?” “Yeah, it’s fine.” I brought him to my desk where I grabbed him a seat. My co-workers who passed by would smile at him, enticed by his cute face and meek demeanor. He’d greet them back with a small wave and shy smile. Some people even came up and asked me if he was my new boyfriend. How many times did I have to tell everyone that I’ve never had a boyfriend before? They were just making the boy uncomfortable. I brought out a plain white shirt from my emergency kit and handed it over to him. He looked it over and thinking about it now, it was probably too small for him. Such was a con of being six inches shorter than someone. He held it up to the light, trying to estimate its size. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” I said. “Could I try it on, sir? Just to be sure?” “Sure, go ahead. Just don’t tear it.” I leaned back into my seat as I watched him begin unbuttoning his button-down. At the back of my mind, I knew this was leaning towards sexual harassment—and on the first day of his internship to boot—but I couldn’t help myself. The kid wasn’t reacting negatively either, so I guessed he was okay with it. A lawsuit was the last thing I needed. He started from the top-down, exposing his lean muscle underneath. He had a decently-sized chest for his leanness, and I never noticed how perky his nipples were underneath the black fabric either. There was no body hair on him too, just like Wes. “Nice abs,” I said. He blushed. “Ah, thank you, sir.” “You go to the gym or something? You play sports?” “No, sir. I used to be part of the gymnastics team, but I quit so I could focus on my studies.” Froy raised up his arms and tried squeezing into my shirt. He stuck his head through the tight hole and did his best to stretch out my shirt to fit in as much as possible. He looked ridiculous. It was like a man trying to wear a child’s dress. “You’ve still got a nice frame. If you went to the gym, I bet you could build it up easily,” I said. He looked ridiculous in my shirt. The sleeves didn’t even reach past his shoulders, so the fabric dug into his armpits. The shirt only reached the first set of abs, exposing his core and defined pelvis. It looked like a crop top. How he even got into something so tight is still a mystery to me. “Sir, I’m not sure I can wear this.” “Obviously.” I punched his abs. “Come on, let’s go ask someone else. I’m too short to be lending you my clothes.” “You’re not too short, sir.” “Yeah, you’re just too tall.” I told him to take off the shirt. He looked like he was in too much pain to be wearing something so ridiculous before we found a better replacement. As he raised it over his head and pulled his arms through the sleeves, he accidentally tore it down the side from the left sleeve down to the hem. He froze in panic. “Sir, I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to break your shirt. It was an accident, sir, I swear.” “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s just a shirt.” His lean torso was now exposed to the cold of the office again, but at least he wasn’t squeezed so tightly in my shirt. I didn’t want to kill him before Marcus did. I couldn’t afford that kind of blood on my hands at my age. No way my salary was going to cover it. I led the tall kid over to Marcus’ desk at the other end of the office. Marcus looked visibly disturbed, watching in silence as I approached with a tall, shirtless kid following closely behind me. I didn’t know what he was going to say or do. His eyes just kept darting back and forth between us, seemingly asking me, “What the fuck is going on?” “Hey, Marcus, this is the intern, and he—” “Why is he shirtless?” Marcus interrupted. I looked back at Froy, looking lost as always. “He got wet in the rain, and I told him I’d get him a new shirt. I tried giving him mine, but, uh…” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “But what? Dory, I need to tell you as a friend that you are very small. Did you try lending him your shirt? Was it too small? Did you come all the way here, to my cubicle, while I’m working, to ask for a shirt from me?” “Yes.” “Alright, here you go.” Marcus dug into his drawer and tossed Froy a clean, black shirt. Froy looked confused but put on the shirt. It fit him perfectly. Thankfully, Marcus’ tailored shirts to fit his broad shoulders and chest fit Froy just right. It was a bit short at the hem though. His pelvis would peek whenever he moved, but he was well-covered. The sleeves also accentuated what muscle he had on his arms, as expected from Marcus. “I have to say though, he’s got a nice body,” Marcus said. “The ‘overtime work’ he’ll be doing later is gonna be a nice work-out.” “Marcus, he’s not a maid.” “And I’m not Frida Kahlo.” “You aren’t.” “Shut up,” Marcus said. “Hey, kid, you’ll be coming with us after work, right?” Froy’s eyes grew wide. “Uh…” “Marcus, it’s only his first day. He doesn’t even know our names yet!” “It’ll be fiiiine. My name’s Marcus Fringe, and there’s your Sir Dorian Yale. You can just call us Marcus and Dory. Our boss is Sir Wesley Smith: short, stocky Asian dude. You can call him Wes. If you ever wanna come work for us, you could be a part of our little circle of friends here. We got cookies.” “Oh, I like cookies,” Froy whispered. “Stop fucking with my intern, Marcus.” “You’re not my mom.” Wes’ office was right in front of Marcus’ cubicle. Any time Marcus made too much noise or whenever Wes would leave for the washroom and caught Marcus doing something stupid, Wes would be the first to scold him. He often threatened to lower his pay, but Marcus didn’t care. They were too close to actually do anything like that. As we were talking, the door to Wes’ office opened. He walked out, wearing a skintight banana yellow collared shirt that showed off his muscles and small gut. Every shirt in his wardrobe seemed to be skintight. I remember him telling us once that he was raised to only wear the tightest clothing because it makes you look bigger. He was only 5’6”, so I could understand why. “Why are you making so much noise, Marcus?” he asked, standing in the doorway. “Oh.” I waved at him. “Hi, sir. This is Froy, the intern. I was just asking Marcus for an extra shirt since he got wet in the rain.” “Well, take care of him then. Show him around the floor or something, I dunno,” Wes said. “Oh, and Dory…” “Yes, sir?” “Take him out with ya later, aight? We’re gonna have a little fun.” Oh god. “Yes, sir.” Wes was returning to his office when Froy spoke up. “Oh, sir!” he said. “How do I get through the door? I don’t have an access card.” “Hm? You don’t need an access card. You just grab the handle, twist it, then pull. That’s how you open a door.” “Wes, never speak again,” Marcus said. “What about this?” Wes whispered. “Or this ♪?” he sang. “I’m done,” I said. “And I’m just getting started!” He fired double finger guns at me with the silliest grin, laughing at himself immediately afterwards. We all separated and went back to our work for the day. I finished up the rest of my work as fast as I could so that I’d have more time to tour Froy around the building. It was just a hunch, but I thought he’d appreciate the convenience store. The store has an unlimited sundae cone deal where you could get as much ice cream as you wanted as long as it’s in one continuous swirl and it doesn’t fall over. When we got there, I saw his eyes light up like a child at the carnival. He wasted no time and immediately ordered a sundae cone. I didn’t even have to tell him. It seemed like he was used to doing this sort of thing already. By the time the ice cream was five inches tall, I was getting worried. It looked like it would fall at any moment. “Froy, are you sure you wanna keep going?” “Yes, sir! I’ve done this before. My mom calls me a master at this.” By the time it reached 8 inches tall, he stopped the machine. He stood still at first, watching it intently. It looked like he was trying to connect his soul to the sundae, becoming one with its spirit or something. When he finally got it to stabilize, he smiled. “See, sir?” he said. Then he raised it up and dunked it in his mouth, all the way down to the cone. My eyes grew wide. Froy just took in 8 inches of freezing cold sundae in his mouth like it was nothing. “What the fuck? Did you just eat the entire thing in one bite?” He nodded, still swallowing the ice cream. When he finished, he accidentally exhaled into my face, filling my nose with his cold, breath-infused chocolate smell. He apologized and offered to wipe it off my nose. I had to tell him to stop since he still had the cone to finish. “How the fuck did you do that?” “My brothers taught me when I was younger how to exercise my gag reflex so I could take in more things. I could fit a whole foot-long in my mouth too!” he said. “It just got kinda messy… so we had to stop.” His face sunk. The cute smile he wore faded away after it seemed like he remembered something. “What happened?” “They, uh, taught me to give them blowjobs when I was 12. I thought it was normal for a few years, then they got arrested for selling drugs when I was 15. My mother told me they were horrible to me and told me what they were doing to me was wrong. So now I’m trying to find a job to pay for my mother’s hospital bills since I’m her only family left. She already used up all her savings on my tuition.” I felt horrible for him and found myself hugging him. He was stiff and caught in surprise at first, but he softened up and wrapped his arms around me too. I didn’t know he lived like this. I couldn’t take advantage of someone like him. It wouldn’t be right. “I’m so sorry.” He gave his ice cream a quick lick. “Don’t worry, sir, it’s fine. I’m over it now. I still miss them though.” “Who? Your brothers? They molested you as a kid. You shouldn’t be missing them. They deserve to rot in prison.” “We used to play games every day outside our house. They even bought me a goldfish once for my 14th birthday since it was all they could afford with their own money. I named him Pudge.” We headed back to my desk upstairs after finishing his ice cream and filing for his access card. The issue with his brothers was something we didn’t want to bring up too much in case he got triggered. More than half the office had already gone home for the day. Marcus, Wes, and I planned to leave for Wes’ condo at 8pm with Froy together. After I finished up, I asked Froy if he was okay with it. It was only his first day as an intern. I wouldn’t be surprised if he declined. Who knows what we might have been planning to do to him outside office hours? “It’s okay with me, sir.” “Are you sure? I haven’t even told you what we were doing.” “Oh, uh,” he said before chuckling nervously. “We’re going to your sir Wes’s condo to drink. Wes and Marcus just want you to be their sober caretaker, so you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Froy waved his hands. “Oh, no, sir, it’s okay with me. I’m used to being the sober one with my friends.” “Oh, okay. And don’t worry about something bad happening to you. None of us have ever done anything crazy before. Besides, Marcus is straight, and Wes is bi, but he has a family. I’m the only gay one here.” His eyebrows shot up. “You’re gay, sir?” “Yeah, why?” He looked away. “Nothing, sir.” That led me to wonder. Was he also gay? I guessed I could always figure that out some other time. After we packed up, we headed down to the basement carpark where Marcus and Wes were waiting for us at Wes’ truck. There were paper cups everywhere. It seemed like they’d been waiting there for a few years by the way they were lounging around and drinking coffee endlessly. When we got there, Marcus walked up to me and grabbed me by the shoulders. “What the fuck took you so long?” he asked. His pointed gaze shot into my skull. “You told me not to fuck with your intern, but is it really me you should be worrying about?” “We were just finishing up some shit. It took longer than expected. Sorry ‘bout it.” “Just get in the fucking truck already!” Wes yelled. “The vodka isn’t gonna drink itself!” I sat in the passenger seat, with Marcus and Froy in the back. It was the system we developed together when we first started hanging out at bars a few months ago. Marcus hated seatbelts and feeling claustrophobic, and I preferred the safety of the seatbelt. The three of us normally went out to the bar down the street on foot, but tonight, we decided to head to Wes’ condo instead to avoid the rain. The only thing different was that we had Froy with us. “Hey, kid, what was your name again?” Marcus asked. “Uh, sir, Froy Adamson, sir.” “Froy?” Marcus began to chuckle. He was visibly struggling to hold in his laughter. “Like fro-yo?” Froy was silent. “...Yes, sir. Frozen yogurt.” Marcus released his contained laughter, nearly keeling over his seat. Froy became worried and began to panic. Wes and I had to reassure him that making fun of people’s names was just something Marcus did on a daily basis to everyone around the office. Marcus was only a year younger than me, but he had the heart of a child that he never grew out of. We loved that about him. Marcus placed a hand on Froy’s shoulder. “I like this kid,” he said. Froy blushed. “I’m sure you do,” Wes said. “Everyone loves yogurt.” “Don’t predate on my intern, Marcus!” “I don’t wanna hear that from you, Dory!” Marcus said. “Hey, kid. I’ve been planning on going back to the gym again. If you ever wanna come with, just tell me, okay? You look like you’d be a great workout partner.” “Hey, what about me? Why do you ask the intern before your boss who you KNOW goes to the gym?” Wes asked. “How tall are you again, Wes?” Marcus asked. “Right now, about as high as your chances at a promotion, Marcus.” Marcus threw his arms around Wes’ seat. “Hey, come on! It was just a joke! It’s just too hard to be gym buddies with someone so short. Plus you’ve got that tiny gut.” “I can’t help it! Vodka might as well be my blood of Christ.” “So you’re a cannibal?” “What do you think happened to my first boyfriend?” The conversation continued for the next half hour on the road. Froy and I remained silent for the most part while Marcus and Wes bantered, with us being brought in every so often as jokes. Marcus couldn’t let go of “fro-yo.” The rain blocked the streets and kept us in traffic longer than we would have wanted. Wes began getting calls from his wife, asking about where he was since his kids were getting impatient after being locked up for so long. When we got to the forest separating Wes’ condo complex from the city district, Marcus brought out these small white pills he hid inside a tic-tac box. The resemblance was uncanny. Froy and I watched him, unaware of what the pills would do. No one was around to help if Marcus did something stupid. “Hey, Wes. You want a tic-tac?” Marcus asked. Froy and I watched in silence, fully aware of what Marcus was trying to do. “If you’re trying to bribe me for a pay raise again, it’s gonna take more than a tic-tac this time.” “No, seriously, come on. It’s just a candy. Completely free. No strings attached.” Wes held out a hand, and Marcus placed one on his palm. “This better not be another one of your fucking pranks, Marcus. The last one is still giving my kids diarrhea.” Wes threw the small white pill in his mouth without any hesitation. Suddenly, his stomach grumbled loudly. “God damn it, Marcus.” Marcus laughed and slammed his hand repeatedly against the back of Wes’ seat. Froy shifted closer to the door in fear. “What did you give him, Marcus?” I asked. “Dying in a car crash with you was not on my list of things to-do today.” “Mine too,” Froy mumbled. “Relax! It’s harmless. I already tried it on my dog, and nothing happened to her.” “I’m not a dog, Marcus! I’m your boss!” “And I’m not a scientist!” “That doesn’t make things any better, Marcus—Oh, my god... what the fuck is going on...” Wes looked uncomfortable, shifting around like there was a cactus on his seat. I looked down and saw that he was growing a tent in his pants. At first, I thought it was just viagra, but then a wet spot began to form. Wes’ face was red as a tomato and was completely speechless. I could smell the familiar smell that filled my room after school as a kid. Wes came. He came right in front of all of us. He didn’t even have to touch himself or do anything for it either. I looked back at Marcus and Froy, and Marcus’ face was frozen in a face of pure glee. He had the expression of a child witnessing Santa for the first time and couldn’t be happier. Froy on the other hand was completely mortified. The poor thing didn’t know how to react. Wes was barely able to keep his focus on the road because of the way he was feeling. He just came in his pants. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that pill did to him. Wes stopped the truck at a nearby tree and turned off the truck, running out and checking the damages at a tree out of sight. The three of us followed suit. Marcus didn’t even look the least bit guilty about what he just did. Froy stood by me, waiting and watching for what happened next. “What the fuck did you give me?” Wes asked. Marcus waved his hands in the air. “Nothing! I swear it was just a bunch of random shit I found in my kitchen. I didn’t think it would do anything.” “Well, it did! Now my favorite pants are ruined.” Wes stepped back into the moonlight where we saw a massive wet spot all over his crotch. If we didn’t know it was cum, we might’ve mistaken it for piss just by its sheer quantity. I didn’t think it was possible to cum so much. Judging by the defined outline running down his left thigh as well, it seemed he was hiding more than just one secret. The short man had to compensate somewhere. “God damn it, Marcus.” “Come on, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t mean it. I was gonna try it on myself, but I wanted to see if it—” “If it killed me?” “Well, no, but—” “I can’t believe I already wet myself… I haven’t even had a fucking bottle yet. You owe me for this.” Marcus shot me a look of relieved anguish, knowing he wasn’t going lose his job or his friendship. He walked up to Wes and helped him clean up by the tree. While Wes and Marcus were off cleaning up, Froy and I wandered a bit off to the forest to take in the beautiful nighttime scenery overlooking the city. The city lights shined brightly over the trees. They gave off an iridescent spotlight-lit night sky that shadowed the tree leaves and branches, blocking out the stars but lighting up the darkness. “This is a great view,” I said. “Yes, sir,” Froy replied. As we were enjoying our quiet time alone together, Froy noticed what looked like a shooting star in the empty sky. Wes and Marcus came over and joined us in staring at the falling light. A thought occurred to me, however, that this was not how falling stars normally worked. It looked as though it were literally falling out of the sky. I’m pretty sure falling stars aren’t supposed to look like they’re coming straight at us. “Hey, that’s no fucking shooting star, you idiots! That’s a meteor!” Wes said. “Hide behind something!” We could barely react when we saw that it was already a building’s height away from us. Froy and I hid behind a nearby tree. Marcus sprinted across to the truck with Wes. The burning rock rang a piercing loud screech in our ears before crash landing into the clearing between us and the truck. Flaming debris flew everywhere, covering the area in a black soot. Smoke filled the air for a good few minutes until we were able to breathe and see things again. All four of us emerged from our hiding spots and eyed the strange rock. Froy, Wes, and I approached it hesitantly, watching it from a distance in case it had any surprises waiting to pop out and do some serious harm. It could have had some new viruses or small flesh-eating aliens hiding inside. I highly doubted our job’s insurance program covered space AIDS. Meanwhile, while three of us were being careful, Marcus decided to make a headstart and gingerly walked up to it. He stuck out his hands and felt the intense heat emanating from the meteor. “What are you doing, Marcus?! Get back here where it’s safe,” Wes said. Marcus looked back and smiled. “Relaaax, it’s not gonna do anythingI” When the rest of us got to surround the meteor, it seemed to have cooled off. All four of us examined it closely, checking for any dangerous movements or glowing substances sticking out. For the next few minutes, it just seemed like it was a regular, boring old rock—from space. It didn’t grow a face and sing show tunes like I expected. I’d be lying if I said wasn’t disappointed. “It just seems like a rock,” Froy said. “Obviously,” Marcus said. “But what’s inside?” “If it's anything like your head, not much,” Wes said. “Then there’s nothing to worry about, right?” Marcus stepped into the crater and slammed his hands onto the meteor. He began pressing down on it with his body weight, trying to pressure it to crack open and reveal whatever monstrosity was inside of it. Froy and I backed away while Wes stepped forward and tried prying Marcus off of it. “Marcus, what are you doing?! Stop!” “I just wanna see what’s inside! It might have space diamonds, Wes!” Marcus let out a yell as he used all his strength and cracked open the meteor. From the crack, a neon green liquid splurged out, spilling onto Marcus’ shirt. He panicked, wondering what the hell the scentless, luminescent goo was, when suddenly the crack opened up further. It erupted, blasting a mortified Marcus with the strange gunk. He was covered head to toe, front to back, unable to even open his mouth or eyes in pure horror. The meteor now looked unstable. It was rumbling, and cracks began spreading from where Marcus first breached its outer shell. More and more of the green liquid spurted out. It didn’t seem long before it would explode. Marcus grumbled for help, running towards Wes. “Hey, stop! Don’t get that shit on me! I just got my pants dry!” Wes yelled. Before Marcus could even get to him, the meteor exploded. Nuclear green slime flew everywhere. Marcus got blasted back onto the ground by the sheer amount he was covered in. He didn’t look like he could move very well at all anymore. Wes was yelling out Marcus’ name when the goo flew into his mouth and covered his entire front from head to toe. I could hear him yelling as he swallowed it. “Sir!” As the meteor exploded towards us, Froy ran up to me. He used his body as a shield to block me from the slime, with his back spread out against the meteor. I looked up at him and saw fear in his eyes. Neither of us could move from where we were as we were frozen in absolute shock about what just happened. The meteor settled down, and there was green slime absolutely everywhere. It coated the trees, the grass, the soil, everything. Marcus was absolutely drenched in it, struggling to even stand up. Wes ran to a tree and began vomiting, trying to expel whatever he swallowed and trying to get himself clean again. Froy’s entire backside and his arms were completely covered. He shook his body as much as he could to try and get it off of him. “What the fuck just happened?” I asked. “That fucking—pfthuh—piece of shit meteor just fucking exploded!” Wes yelled, spitting out the remnants. “Are we going to fucking die?!” Marcus yelled, on his knees, crying in anguish at the sky, looking like a grotesque smile monster. “I don’t wanna fucking die, god!” “This is all your fault!” Wes said. “I’m fucking aware of that, Wes! I wasn’t expecting the meteor to be a fucking water balloon filled with green shit!” “Okay, everyone, just relax!” I said. “We just need to get clean and report this to the police so they can clean it up or something.” Marcus and Wes turned and glared at me, clean and dry from head to toe. “We can’t tell anyone about this! If the authorities find out we fucked with some meteor and got caught with some disease, then we might be forced to spend time in a lab until we die,” Wes said. Marcus pointed at me. “And why the fuck are you dry? Did you tell your little boytoy intern to be your shield?!” “No, he ran up to me himself. I didn’t tell him to do anything, Marcus.” “Fucking shit, man…” I stood watch by the truck while Froy, Wes, and Marcus cleaned themselves up by the river. It was nearly midnight when they got back looking absolutely exhausted after trying to get every drop of slime off their bodies for the past few hours. They dumped all their clothes in Wes’ gym bag and got into his truck in nothing but wet underwear. ‘Uncomfortable’ could not even begin to explain the atmosphere. I couldn’t even be bothered to appreciate all the hot, semi-naked bodies surrounding me when I was still reeling over what the hell just happened. I’d already seen all of them shirtless before at least once, but I had yet to see Froy’s business. Did he prefer boxers or briefs? Was he a shower or a grower? It didn’t seem that important. All I knew was that Wes was thick and hung like a motherfucker. “This has to be our secret, got it?” Wes said. “No one else can know about this.” We all agreed. None of us were in the mood to get dissected or experimented on for the rest of our lives. As Wes drove away, heading to his condo, I took one last look back at the scene. The meteor looked like a cracked egg that got blown up in a microwave. However, what seemed strange to me was how there seemed to be a lot less slime than before. What used to be a complete sheet of glowing green slime over everything was now mostly back to normal with some freckles here and there. It must have either dissipated in the atmosphere or got absorbed into the ground. Either way, it didn’t seem like that was just going to end there. I could feel in my gut that this wasn’t the last time this meteor was going to be a part of our lives. If the slime did get absorbed in the ground and trees, then what would happen with humans? There was no way they didn’t at least absorb some of it. There was just no way. Regardless, this was going to be our secret from now on. It seemed our little threesome just became a foursome.
  6. AlphaLustSean

    TARANIS - PART 3

    Brad lost consciousness against Taranis’ billowing, heaving, and granite-hard chest and beneath his thick and powerful arms. His dreams were filled with images of his hulking creation of biological and genetic manipulation using his power in demonstration of his destructive and brutal superiority. He awakened to the inviting Hawaiian sun streaming through the windows and a note from Taranis on the bed next to him. “Good morning, Uncle B!” it read, “That will be the last time I call you that. I will now refer to you, and introduce you, as my dad, and you will refer to me, and introduce me, as your son. Thank you so much for hosting me on my visit to the University. I’m sure you’re worn out from our initial meeting yesterday. LOL! I want to reiterate how much I love you and how appreciative I am that you created my embryo and agreed to implant me into El. Kai and El were a perfect choice to be my adoptive parents and, for your sake, I am sorry that my realization of what I am resulted in their demise, troublesome to you as it may be. Take solace in the fact that, even had they not been consumed with desire for me to unveil my true nature as they beheld what I am, their lustful craving to be ravaged out of existence by me radiated from their core. They both ravenously yearned for what happened to them in that basement, Dad, believe me. They both died rapturously happy and thankful, praying for the ways in which their endings were granted.” The lengthy note continued, “Also, please know that how I treated you after we arrived at the hotel was purely to feed that deep-seated hunger for what I am which I know you have repressed and hidden your entire life. You know there is no purpose for me to spare you from my desire to expunge such puny insects from the face of the earth, nor to please one so pathetically insignificant as you truly are, but I choose to do so, Dad. This choice is in appreciation for your bravery in creating me and your insatiable, worshipful lust for me to be, well, the titanic muscle monster you have spawned!” Brad began stroking his spent dick as he continued reading. “Obviously, I will not be returning to the mainland after this week, Dad. I will stay here and live with you. The time for me to reveal my true nature will transpire solely for my enjoyment and pleasure. My lustful desire to feel worshipful awe and instill terrifying fear within puny humanity pulses powerfully through my veins and is growing constantly, as I have no doubt you had hoped it would when you created me, my loving and faithful little power-slut! I know that you are incapable of denying the worshipful devotion you are feeling towards me even at this very moment. You are so piteously incapable of resisting me, you weak little bug! Rest assured I am feeling your desire for everything Taranis at this second. Be VERY thankful how pleased I am with you right now, Dad. Thank me, Dad . . . NOW!” Brad gushed lovingly and prayerfully, “Taranis, thank you, my godly and perfectly malevolent, living conception!” Taranis, just entering the admissions building, heard his dad’s voice thanking and praising him. He grinned broadly and licked his thick, sexy lips hungrily as his cock twitched and pulsed. Instantly, Brad heard Taranis’ powerful voice in his head, “Mmmmm, yes, good, dinky Dad. Your obedience pleases your brutally powerful and beastly son!” Brad jizzed powerfully at the inaudible sound of his son’s omnipotent voice. His dick rocketed cum with each of his son’s words. “Oh, GOD! He knows even my THOUGHTS!” burst into his brain, more a reverential thought than a fearful exclamation. “That I do, Dad . . . ” Taranis’ voice lovingly thundered in Brad’s head, “. . . and I also know something else you have always longed for. That which I now bestow upon you, favored little insect.” Brad immediately felt a heat in his crotch as his dick lurched, pulsing with painfully pleasing hardness, almost feeling like the long, thick and muscular pleasure slab would explode. The heat quickly pulsed throughout his body and his muscles tensed, hardened, and began to swell. Soon each beat of his heart felt like the eruption of a full-body orgasm. Muscles rippled and rolled, swelling larger, harder, more defined. As quickly as it began, it subsided. Brad got off of the bed and walked into the bathroom. He felt disoriented, but enjoyed the feeling of walking, muscles hardening to larger masses than he could ever have dreamed of, rolling against each other, rippling and venous. He looked down and grinned. “Thank you, Son!” His formerly respectably-sized package was now befitting a bull. He looked in the mirror and his jaw dropped. His former size was enviable, but now! FUCK! He was massive and GORGEOUS . . . and looked more bodybuilder than scientist. His new long, thick, and venous cock detonated in spasmodic explosions of orgasmic bliss at the sight of his body’s new Taranis enhancement. Brad’s now large hands roamed the expansive ranges of thick, hard muscle encasing and rolling over his incredibly stunning body. “Oh, Taranis! I am not worthy of your kindness to me!” he cried in joy. “That you are not, pathetic little bug, yet you please me.” Taranis projected. “And, Dad . . . I need you sturdy enough for me to fuck mercilessly without being torn apart. You want me to fuck you, boi, don’t you . . . to stuff you full of my brutally destructive muscle-cock, splitting you apart with my size and power?” Brad fell to his knees. “Oh, yes!” he drooled lustfully, “I am yours to use as you please, my son, my GOD!” ____________________ Taranis smiled broadly and stepped into the Student Services building, enjoying his Dad’s complete acceptance and submission and, also, drinking in the astonished stares of everyone in the office as he entered. He rumbled down to the girl at the receptionist desk, “I am Taranis here to see Mr. Kekoa.” The receptionist drooled back, “First or last name, sir?” “I am Taranis.” Taranis answered, “That is all.” “Uh. Okay. Whatever you say, stud.” the receptionist responded blankly, flustered that her thoughts escaped her lips. Her hungry eyes devoured the muscle barely constrained by the fabric stretching tightly across the boy’s arms and torso. “My, you’re absolutely huge, Mr. Taranis!” she stammered as her brain practically screamed, “GOD! I want to see what’s under that shirt!” she thought as her mind continued to undress the muscle-bound boy smiling down at her. Her eyes landed on the prodigious bulge of the boy’s crotch, mushroom cock-head clearly outlined at the end of his thick tube of cock-flesh snaking down his tight shorts. Her pussy gushed with desire and she began to pant. She fumbled at the phone and finally pushed the intercom button, “Mr. Kekoa. A ‘Taranis’ is at the front desk to see you.” “He should be here in a moment, Sir.” Olani told Taranis as he grinned at her and implanted a picture in her head of him flexing nude over her, bulging obscenely in all his glory as his arm-sized phallus basted her in his ever-flowing, steaming, masculine nectar. Olani looked into his deep blue eyes and panted out in orgasmic ecstasy under her breath, “Oh, fuck!” as she rubbed her wet, hungry pussy. She didn’t know where such a sexually charged and pornographic thought had come from, but basked in the overwhelming feeling of lustful horniness. Taranis grinned knowingly, “Tell Mr. Kekoa I’ll be checking out the Warrior Recreation Center, would you, Olani?” He turned and walked out, revealing his muscular, barn-wide lats, bowling ball shoulders, massive triceps, and solid, mounds of rippling, rolling ass muscle, all flexing powerfully, rising and falling, inflating and solidifying, as he left. “Now, HE could protect me from Makoa.” Olani couldn’t help but think. Makoa was her abusive boyfriend. She imagined the colossal and obviously powerful boy dominating and overpowering the pathetic bastard, totally destroying him so he would never abuse anyone again. Taranis’ mind absorbed that thought as he walked away and made a mental note to give her whatever she desired. Olani whimpered as Taranis left the building. Before she jumped up and rushed to the restroom to clean up and compose herself, Mr. Kekoa appeared at her desk inquiring where Taranis was. She pointed to the door. “Heading to the Rec Center to wait for you.” she muttered, seemingly out of breath. He looked out the door and saw the massively muscular teen heading over to the Rec Center just across and down the street. Taranis strode towards the Warrior Recreation Center on Campus Road, enjoying the stunned looks he received as he walked up the street. He stepped off of the road towards the Rec Center when he felt a small hand on the outside of his bulging and rippling triceps and biceps. ____________________ Mr. Kekoa caught up with Taranis on Campus Road. As he approached, he realized that, even having absorbed the massive muscles the boy had, he had misjudged the truly colossal size of this colossal and, obviously, powerful student. The triceps rippling off of the back of the boy’s arms were larger than the counselor's head. They fought barn-door wid lats for space that tapered down to a rounded, muscular ass. The thick torso was held up by legs rivaling the smaller man’s chest in circumference. Thick, pulsing, deep-blue veins mapped over every visible muscular surface, exuding pure power and supreme superiority. The flexing mass of the split calf muscles left no doubt as to the incredible strength this muscle-boy must wield. The counselor reached out (and up) and placed his palm on the boy’s arm. “Holy SHIT!” escaped from his lips as his palm contacted Taranis' hot, hard muscles. His palm stretched out on the outside of the boy’s massive arm. His fingers didn’t even reach the top of the mountainous split biceps of Taranis’ mighty arm. “Jesus CHRIST, this kid is MASSIVE!!” he thought to himself as he felt his dick twitch appreciatively. “Taranis, I’m Mr. Kekoa.” the stunned and unabashedly admiring counselor bleated, clearing his throat. The veritable mountain of teen muscle slowly turned and grinned down to the man touching his arm. He flexed slightly, causing his arm to expand and harden even further beneath the astonished counselor’s hand as the expanding flesh covering the powerful muscles slid beneath his touch. “Nice to meet you, Sir.” Taranis boomed, feeling the smaller man’s shock and awe being in the presence of the powerfully muscular and breathtakingly handsome young titan. Suddenly there was a screeching of tires, a loud CRASH, and the squealing of tortured metal on the street. Taranis shoved Mr. Kekoa behind him and stretched out his massive palm as a car, sliding on its roof, slid towards them. The front of the car crumpled upon impact with Taranis’ unmoving hand, his mighty body unmoving and bringing the car to a dead stop. The other car jumped the curb and came to rest as the passenger side crumpled into a tree. Mr. Kekoa, now on his back from Taranis’ saving shove, witnessed Taranis’ tight t-shirt shred from his torso as the boy’s muscles exploded with immeasurable power, stopping the car as if it had hit a concrete wall. Being a straight homophobe, his brain couldn’t process the instant blood-engorging erection that sprang to salute ultimate masculinity in action. The terrifyingly transcendent Taranis’ dominant supremacy was tangible in that moment. The now sexually confused man began to drool as Taranis stepped to the overturned SUV, slipped the fingers of one hand beneath the car and effortlessly flipped it over as unstoppable brawn and sinew erupted beneath every inch of his his dark, smooth, and perfect skin. ____________________ Makoa had been driving to the Rec Center when he saw the most massively muscular student talking to one of the University’s counselors. Being distracted by someone so young having attained a body beyond anything he could ever hope to achieve by working out, he crossed into the oncoming traffic lane and collided with another car. He saw the herculean boy put out his hand and stop the flipped car’s slide. He was sure that he was in shock when he thought he saw the bare-chested behemoth slip his massive hand under his SUV and flip it back onto its wheels with just one barrel-sized arm. ____________________ Tarnanis placed his hand on the crumpled door of the SUV and clenched his fist, fingers piercing the metal door like it was butter before simply tearing it off of the body and dropping it on the street. All Makoa could see was rippling, writhing muscle ballooning through the hole left by the door’s effortless removal at the hands of the giant teen now addressing him. “I’m Taranis, sir, are you okay? What’s your name?” the muscle-boy boomed. “M-M-Makoa is my name. Thank you, young man.” Makoa responded weakly even as the sensual aroma of testosterone charged male superiority accosted his nostrils. Tiranis stood and turned his head on his thick, sloping trapezius muscles to ask his counselor if he was okay. Mr. Kekoa nodded yes, mouth agape in disbelief. Makoa gawked at the arm-sized fuck muscle stretching this boy’s shorts out and into the side of the vehicle. He could clearly see the thick, venous shaft and mushroom head outlined beneath the stretched shorts. Hefty, churning nuts were also clearly visible. The all-powerful boy’s fingers then pierced the roof of the vehicle and peeled it back like it was nothing but tin foil. He looked up to see the dark, angry face of the most stunning man he’d ever seen, planetary pectorals flexed and rippled with a power that couldn’t be imagined. Bricks of abdominal beef larger than Makoa’s hands ground together hypnotically. “Makoa, eh?” Taranis growled, “Olani asked me to give you a message, you pathetically weak little abusive pussy-boi. I see you’re impressed with a REAL man’s cock, pencil-dick, and its going to fuck you up, litteraly as well as figuratively.” With that, Taranis flexed his colossal cock and his short’s began to tear with the pressure his slight flex elicited. Sirens could be heard approaching. Makoa pissed himself as he looked up at the gorgeous titan stating his sentence matter-of-factly. He passed out even as blood flooded his worthless little dick in the presence of real manhood. ____________________ Taranis looked around and it appeared that no one had witnessed what had transpired. The woman in the other vehicle appeared to be okay, but was unconscious. Taranis turned back to Mr. Kekoa and said, “Okay, Mr. Kekoa, let’s get back to your office before the cops arrive and begin asking questions. We’ll grab me something to cover my torso from the Rec Center, first. You okay with that?” “Yes, Sir.” Mr. Kekoa responded obediently as he drooled with worshipful desire. Taranis had allowed his counselor the privilege of seeing his plans for Makoa, a glimpse of what true, unrestrained power can do. His homophobia was forevermore eradicated and his desire for sexual satisfaction from his wife, and for women in general, was replaced with desire and devotion towards only one.
  7. Chapter 1 Brian Salk was walking down the street in a tight-fitting T-shirt, the kind that clung to him so snugly that you could see all of his muscles beautifully pressed against the fabric. People who saw him thought he lived a charmed life as one of the world’s youngest self-made billionaires, at 25 he was the latest wonder kid to make it big in the tech industry. He was on the cover of magazines and billboards. The media was taken by his other talents as well, particularly his prowess as a body builder. Shirtless photos of “the Billion Dollar Six Pack” were everywhere. That combined with his ability to speak 10 languages, play piano and violin like a virtuoso, and his status as a chess master made him into quite the modern-day renaissance man. Brian didn’t mind the attention. He liked people checking him out. It was the closest he could get to imagining what being in a relationship was like. His father, to whom he felt he owed everything, did not approve of his son being in a relationship, not because he was gay. His sexuality was common knowledge and all of his “brothers” were (something that was not common knowledge). Rather he and the old man shared a secret, the key to all of Brian’s successes. A secret that if the world were to know, could end Brian’s freedom forever. Brian was the last of the “Children of AIM” (AIM being the Army Institute of Mutagenesis). A military agency devoted to the development of the American Supersoldier. After a disaster that led to the catastrophic quarantine of an entire town, and the “loss” of one of the founders of the program, the project was deemed as too dangerous to continue. The three remaining super soldier subjects or, “Children of AIM” as they were known, were sent to various families within the United States to be raised as normal children. However, Dr. Gregory Salk was unable to say goodbye to the child he had created undertook to raise the boy as his own son and hone his abilities for the good of humanity. His superior intelligence and athletic prowess were the result of billions of dollars of secret investment. But Brian had abilities that went far beyond that. As a gift from his treatments at AIM, he could change his body size and musculature at will, a skill that would have made him nearly invincible on the battlefield. As he was now a free man, that particular talent was no longer strictly needed. It did however come in handy in another of Brian’s hobbies. You see, Brian always felt the need to give back to society, so he led another life, the life of a crime fighting hero. A life that was about to be tested once again. “Hey Brian!” came a familiar voice. “Huh?” he said, looking around. “Oh! Hey Jake!” Jake’s father owned a bank and as his son, he managed all of his charitable work. Being a philanthropist himself, Brian ran into him all the time, which was torture because Jake was the most gorgeous man that he had ever seen and the young billionaire was head over heels for him. To make matters worse Jake was openly gay and single. Brian hated having to keep his feelings a secret. To be fair, Brian only thought he was keeping it a secret. Anyone with half a brain could see the way he blushed whenever Jake walked in a room or fumbled for words. Or the way his package bulged up whenever Jake touched him. “I was just grabbing some coffee big guy,” Jake said, walking over, casually placing a hand on his friend. “You want to join?” “Yeah well… I… uhhh coffee sounds nice… you ummm like coffee?” In truth he’d been on his way to a meeting but those fingers on his arm made him temporarily forget anything about that. “Uh… yeah…” Jake chuckled. “We had coffee together at Autism Gala, and that cancer event before that. For a genius you’ve got a lousy memory.” He said gently prodding his large friend in the side. “Oh right… yeah sorry…” he said, blushing and scratching the back of his head. Soon the thoughts began again. He had a condo in this neighborhood. He could just take Jake up there and they could have glorious… “Earth to Brian.” His thoughts were interrupted by a slightly impatient Jake. “You want to join or…?” “Oh… yeah… sure…” he stammered. “Excellent.” Jake took Brian by the arm, effectively leading him like a puppy. The two walked a few blocks together and were having a great time enjoying their coffee when Brian’s highly engineered hearing picked up a disturbing sound. “Gimmie da cash or I use your guts to paint dese bricks!” That was followed by the sound of someone pleading. “Crap…” He pulled out his phone as cover. “Look I’m really sorry, I’ve got to run!” “Always on the run…” Jake sighed. Without another word Brian jumped up from the table. As soon as he was out of Jake’s line of vision he ducked into an empty alley and pulled a spandex wrestling mask from his back pocket and placed it over his head. Then he pulled off his shirt and pants, stuffing them away into the backpack that he always carried with him and hid it in a corner of the alley, revealing nothing but a tight stretchy bottom. Clenching his teeth and concentrating on his body, his already impressive biceps began to bulge out, his famous six pack bulged into an eight pack, his back muscles went into a state of upheaval as his traps and delts began to broaden. His pecs ballooned out, forcing his nipples even lower. His clingy shorts were stretching against his inflating bubble butt and thighs. He was becoming… The Tank. As his body swelled with more and more muscle he began to grow taller, passing 6’ 6’’ then seven feet. The rush of power flowing through his veins was incredible as pound after pound filled into his body. He passed the 8-foot mark with 800 pounds of raw muscle with arms and legs the size of tree trunks, abs bulging out like grapefruits, with lats that pushed his arms outward. Time for action. He bounded away after the sound, leaping over the street as agile as a deer, darting from alley to alley as if he were flying until he came upon what he was looking for. Three guys had a Somali immigrant pinned to the wall. “I told ya, if ya don’t buy de insurance in dis country, bad t’ings can happen!” “Please… I wont have enough to feed my kids if I pay that much!” he begged. “Sounds like your company needs to go out of business.” It wasn’t the best line but Brian was working on that part of the job. “What da hell?” One of the thugs looked up just a trash can came hurtling at them, knocking two of them off their feet. The remaining one looked up at the behemoth standing before him and realized his worst nightmare had found him. The bulging, masked goliath took a few steps toward him. “De Tank…” he muttered, legs shaking like noodles, and pulled out a gun. Before he could get off a shot, The Tank had slammed a massive elbow into his gut, sending him flying into a nearby chain link fence. He turned to the immigrant. “Get out of here!” But there was no need for that. He’d already taken off down the alley. Brian reached down to the two thugs he’d knocked down with the trash can and picked them up by their shirts. “Now I want to get one thing clear with you punks.” He growled, his voice deep and booming. “There’s gonna be no insurance racket in this town as long as I have anything to say about it. So if I see you again you better have a new occupation.” Suddenly there was a loud bang and flash of pain in his left arm. He knew it instantly, he’d been shot… again. The man he’d knocked into the fence had gotten up and pulled out another gun. He effortlessly hurled the two miscreants on top of his assailant and walked over to the pile and picked up the dropped hand gun as a steady trickle of blood ran down his arm. “You know, that just pisses me off,” he said crushing the weapon in his other hand. “You better be pretty glad I’m not like you.” He said dropping the useless pile of metal. Unhooking a belt from his waist, he stretched it out and wrapped around the three of them. “That ought to hold you.” He said clipping it together, causing a light to begin to flash. Once locked it was nearly impossible for them to get out. The homing beacon would alert the police, and an electronic USB stick would play a recording of the event. He might even make the news tonight, he thought as he bounded away back to the alley where he had dumped his clothes. When he got there, he flexed his arm until the bullet popped out. They never went in very deep. Shrinking back down to his usual size, he pulled a compression bandage out of the backpack and wrapped it around his arm. Bullets didn’t do much damage when he was ‘tanked out’ (as he liked to call it) and his modified body was pretty good at healing without a scar but they did hurt. It was like getting stung by a giant hornet. Quickly getting his clothes on he headed up to the condo he owned in the neighborhood to get cleaned up, sending an email to his colleagues that he was sorry to have missed the meeting. He had five new text messages but one of them in particular was difficult to answer. It was from Jake. “See you around, handsome. Maybe one day you won’t be too busy to hang out.” It bit him to the core. He felt like he would have given anything to have been able to finish that cup of coffee with him. ‘But then that man might not have been able to go home to his kids.’ He heard his father’s voice in his head. That evening, his walk back to Mid Town where he and his father made their primary dwelling on several floors of a skyscraper was a lonely one. “You really could have built me to make the bullets hurt less,” he told his father Gregory that night as the 65-year-old gently attended to the wound. The old man laughed. “You should have seen how some of the other super soldiers reacted. Some of them had better healing than you do and they would scream and run away at the mere sight of a gun.” “Maybe that’s what I should do,” Brian grumbled. “You’re the one who chose to be ‘The Tank’. I would have been just as happy for you to devote your life to computers, arts or science,” his father said. “But I’m proud of you. Every person you save makes my life’s work seem more worthwhile.” He smiled and then added, “Also if you wouldn’t grow so large you wouldn’t make such an easy target. I’m sure you don’t have to be so massive to deal with street thugs.” Brian chuckled. “Do you want to take away the one really fun part of my life?” His father sighed. “I suppose not.” “I met Jake today for a coffee.” Brian threw in as casually as he could. “Oh? How’s his family doing. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen his father.” “They’re fine I guess. I… mostly forgot to ask,” Brian said with a sigh. “You know… we do a lot of charity work, we should plan an event with them or…” “Brian…” his father said, sealing the wound with a special adhesive he’d invented for his son. “Is that really a good idea? I know how you feel about him. There is such a thing as tormenting yourself for no reason.” “Well I wouldn’t have to torture myself if you’d let me see him,” Brian retorted. “And what would he think of us?” Gregory said, “What would he think of our life?! Of who and what you really are?” He sighed and patted his son on his uninjured shoulder. “The army is clear on this. If people find out about AIM through you, they will ‘reposess’ you. It took everything in my power to get them to release you to me when you were 18 months old… I don’t have the connections that I used to have.” “Well what if he doesn’t know?” Brian asked. “I don’t have to tell him!” “Son you grow in your sleep sometimes… It took me four months to design a bed that you wouldn’t break when you were 12. When you get too “excited” you start to morph. These are things you just can’t hide from a partner.” “Well, why can’t you just fix those things?” Brian said. “You come up with solutions to everything else.” “I gave you a mind easily a match for mine, and it’s still young and in its prime. If anyone could fix the kinks of the super soldier program it would be you,” Gregory said. “But I think that Pandora’s box is left closed. You are the last of them… and the most functional I might add.” He said with a bit of pride. “Right now I’d give anything to just be normal. To finally know what it’s like to truly be with someone,” Brian muttered. “I know it’s hard… I’ve had to make the same sacrifices you have. You’re all I’ve got.” The big guy heaved a remorseful sigh. “I’m sorry Father. You’re right.” “Why don’t you stay in tonight.” His father said, patting him on the back. “You’ve done enough for one day. I’ve got something I need to work on in the lab.” Brian was left alone to look out over the city lights. While he was designed to easily be able to go many nights without sleep, and he often did, this particular day felt like it needed to end. So he went to bed. That night he tossed around in his sleep. His dreams were troubled by visions of masked men dressed in black, hunting him down. He jerked himself awake in bed with a loud “No!” and looked down at his swollen body, buffed up by the fear in his nightmare. The pounding of his heart echoed his head. He’d only gained about 100 pounds in his sleep this time. “Perhaps Dad’s right… I just can’t control this.” His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Uh… yes?” The door opened and to his shock, Jake stepped into the room. “I heard you shouting and I thought you might need some company.” “How… how did you get in here?” Brian stammered pulling the sheets over his naked body. His dream growth shredded anything comfortable he could sleep in. “Does it matter? I’m here now,” he said walking over to the bed. “Do you want me to leave?” “No… no… I just don’t get…” Brian was fumbling with his words as Jake pulled off his shirt and began to crawl on top of the sheets over to him. He’d seen that lovely chest before, at socials where there was a pool. His cock was throbbing, he’d wanted to touch that body so often and here it was crawling into his bed. Jake climbed onto of his massive target and straddled him before licking those massive pecs which began to swell under his touch. “Fuck… no! I can’t… not in front of… awww fuck.” It felt so good. Jake pressed his lips against Brian’s’ and massaged those nipples as his inflating pecs pushed them downward. “Mmmmm, that’s a neat trick. Why didn’t you tell me about it before?” Jake said licking Brian’s traps, making their veins pop out as they bulged into his face. “Didn’t… think… you’d understand…” Brian said, gently pulling down Jake’s pants so he could feel that luscious ass of his. “I only understand that I’ve never wanted anything more,” Jake said, pulling down the sheets and driving his cock into Brian’s massive abs. “God, you’re incredible,” Brian moaned as his abs bulged around the cock that was riding up and down the slit between them. “Wanted this for so long,” he said, growing taller as the man he’d wanted to be with more than any other began to move up and down his massive frame. His balls began to swell larger than fists as his cock began to grow, poking Jake in the back. “Seems like someone’s ready to play,” Jake said reaching and stroking the massive rod. “Never… done this… before,” Brian moaned. “Let me show you how it’s done,” Jake whispered and mounted the giant member and slowly slid himself down on it. Brian’s balls were so excited that they began to swell like mad first to cantaloupes then to basketballs. His cock grew to 24’’ and Jake had to balance himself on the giant balls to ride it. Brian could feel his ass expanding into an enormous bubble butt. Jake took notice and reached down to squeeze it while he could still reach it. His fingers spread the massive ass cheeks expanded in his hand. The reinforced bed was beginning to creak and strain under the new weight as Brian’s biceps grew larger than Jake’s entire torso. He passed 8’ 6’’ as his balls swelled to the size of beach balls. Each of his massive pecs weighed over 100 pounds of raw muscle as he bounced them in delight. Jake felt the expanding lats pushing even further out from Brian’s massive sides. As he was skewered on the enormous dick like a toy. Pre-cum started to gush out of that giant cock, overflowing Jake’s ass and spilling out down his enormous shaft, completely soaking the bed. “Awww fuck I’m gonna cum!” Brian shouted when suddenly an alarm went off. He opened his eyes as one of his massive balls slid off the cum soaked bed and bounced onto the floor, stretching his sweaty nutsack. A jet of cum blasted him in the face as his balls unloaded onto no one but himself. He was alone it had been a wet dream. His body had expanded so much that the bed alarm had gone off to wake him. Brian had passed the 1000-pound safety limit. He coughed a little as another massive blast of cum covered his face and chest in spunk. He laid there panting for a moment, unable to shrink just yet. The hottest thing he’d ever imagined had just happened and it wasn’t even real. He idly rubbed his cum soaked nipple wishing so hard that Jake could be there but he’d proven his father’s point. As globs of jizz rolled down the bedsides he realized that being intimate with anyone was going to mean revealing his true identity.
  8. jrt5810

    The Magnate and the Monster

    One “You have great potential,” I heard one guy say to another. The deep voice came from just behind me, close and loud enough to be heard over the bass thundering from the DJ booth. I’d just paid for my drink, after squeezing my way up to the crowded bar and waiting too long to spend too much on a beer. It was Friday night, I had the next week off work, and I was ready to enjoy myself. I started inching my way towards the dance floor. I’d just come from the gym and had my “party pump” on. Pecs clearly outlined in my tight t-shirt, arms stretching the sleeves just slightly, jeans showing off a well-earned bubble butt. I may not have been the biggest guy at the bar – and not nearly big enough for my liking – but I had good size and plenty of definition, and the boys loved it. “I said – you have great potential.” It was the same voice, right behind me once again even though I’d moved a few yards away from where I last heard it. I paused for a second, still assuming this was someone else’s conversation and not wanting to turn around like a fool. “Yeah kid, I’m talking to you,” the voice rumbled. I turned on my heel, eyebrow inquisitively raised, to find out the source of the deep voice. And when I saw this guy...well, I couldn't stop myself from letting out, "Damn." I'm not normally on the hunt for daddies, but this guy was stunning. Taller than me – probably 6'2 to my 5'8 – with a salt-and-pepper high-and-tight, a jawline that could bust down a door, and steely gray eyes. And stuffed into a navy polo shirt was the unmistakable build of a serious, if amateur, bodybuilder. The big man gave me a quick smirk and wink at my response. I'm normally the confident pursuer but in mere seconds he'd gotten me locked on. He extended a calloused hand and we shook. "I'm Jay,” he said. "I want to train you." I was completely caught off guard. "I want to train you"? What the fuck is that? "I want to fuck you"? Sure. Heard that. "I want you to fuck me"? That too. Jay noticed my obvious confusion and smiled. "This is where you tell me your name and ask me what I mean by 'train you.'" The music in the club continued blaring, and guys continued pushing past us, alternately cruising Jay or me. "Hi. I'm Billy. What the hell do you mean by 'train me'?" I laughed. "Billy, you've got a beautiful body. I saw you come in tonight. Just came from the gym, didn't you? Wanted to look big for the boys, I’m betting.” Jay was clearly perceptive. He continued, "You look great right now, but I’ll guess that you want more size. And I know how to turn you into a work of art." "Most guys lead with offering to buy me a drink, Jay.” I smiled. He stepped closer to me, cupping his left hand around the back of my neck, resting his right palm on my chest, and staring down at me with piercing eyes. Normally, I would not tolerate behavior like this from a stranger in the bar, but something about his manner felt comforting. And, well, don't hold it against me, but he was fucking hot. "Let me train you. I'll turn you into a god amongst men." He continued with his intense fixed gaze. This was a man who was efficient with his words. "Can we at least fuck first?" I responded, looking up at him like a puppy begging for a treat. "You mean I don't even have to buy you a drink?" Jay said, with a big smile. I let out a laugh just as he pulled me in tightly against his huge chest and leaned down to kiss me. So powerful, so masculine, so dominant. And yet intimate, soft, tender. I'd never experienced a kiss that had such a profound impact on me, that stopped time, that rewired my brain the way good drugs or great songs can. I felt torn apart and glued back together, and I'd met him just moments earlier. Jay pulled away, gazing down at me with smiling eyes. "Was that as amazing for you as it was for me?" "I... Uh... Yeah..." I babbled like a fool. "Billy, I think this is the start of something incredible. Let's jet." Jay grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd and out the door. I suddenly realized I hadn't had the chance to take in all of him yet. Seeing him walking ahead of me, I got a better sense of just how powerfully built Jay was. It was rare to see a bodybuilder at his height with the width and mass to match the proportions of shorter lifters, but Jay was the total package. Incredibly broad shoulders and lats, a narrow, lean waist, and the most gorgeous squatter's ass and legs I'd ever seen. How he'd squeezed all that beef into those tight jeans was a mystery, but I imagined it involved Teflon spray. We left the club and entered into the cool night. Jay kept a grip on my hand as we walked a few busy city blocks to the parking lot. While I'm by no means closeted and the city is by no means conservative, his forthrightness and effortless confidence in walking down the sidewalk hand in hand felt bold, almost defiant. This was a man who did what he wanted, when he wanted. I just hoped that what he wanted would be compatible with what I wanted. We reached the parking garage and Jay tapped a button on his phone. A few spots ahead, a big black Mercedes sedan came aglow and rumbled to life. So this guy was beautiful, magnetic, AND rich? This was all too much. "Now you're just showing off," I said as he opened the passenger door for me. He walked around and dropped his bulging physique into the spacious, leather-swathed cockpit. "Oh, stud," he responded as he blipped the powerful car's throttle pulling out of the parking spot. "You ain't seen nothin' yet."
  9. In case you didn't see, this is a continuation of Chapter 1 posted earlier this month. I've still got more to finalize, but keep the comments coming! Chapter 2 I awoke with a start, completely disoriented and unsure of my location. The room I was laying in was dimly lit and sparsely furnished. I was definitely not in my condo... then just as I began to remember the costume & the bracelet…BOOM. The door slammed open and the bright lights flickered on. “Its party time Dearie, are you happier now?” the older women said, indicating a extra-large mirror on the far wall, “I want every customer to be 100% satisfied.” Moving to stand in front of the mirror, I watched my rugged jaw go slack. I had been in shock from my earlier transformation, but I simply could not believe my own reflection now. When I had walked into the store I was a 230lb jacked bodybuilder, who also happened to own a pornstar’s cock. Hell, that guy from Starbucks had told me I was the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen and I would have easily agreed with him. Until Now. There was no denying it at this point; I was a god among men. The face staring back at me would put any model to shame. Rugged, manly, and flawless with a dazzlingly smile I could have been on any magazine cover. Bright emerald eyes, careful arched brows, and hair and stubble that seem to have its own golden glow. I would have made Brad Pitt feel insecure. Below my perfect features, every part of my body was now bigger, better, and more masculine. Miraculously my costume still fit, although it was now almost pitifully small and stretched to the breaking point, which simply highlighted my incredible body. My torn pants were now capris due to my increased size and height. My now visible calves bulged below the hems, their diamond shape visible even from the front. Above them, the individual heads of my quads appeared to be making new tears in the taught fabric with each breath, but really they fibers were so defined they were actually visible under the thin fabric. In fact, the pants were so tight my quads were threatening to rip them completely to pieces at any moment. My VERY obviously thicker cock and balls weighed down the fabric in the front to the point that not a bulge or inch was left to the imagination. The weight of my basket was so great that the skimpy fabric was pulled taught around my thick glutes, making my phenomenally perky ass seem even more incredible. Up top, my pitifully undersized vest barely came down to the top of my rippling 10-pack. Each ab was perfectly defined, with my obliques and even those little muscles on your rib cage standing in proud attention at every breath! There was absolutely no hope of my vest ever closing across my chest anymore, it was basically child’s size now. My pecs were wider, broader, and thicker than two line-backers, accentuated by a thick division down the center I could Lose a few fingers in. My thick back and wide lats made me seem to be twice the man I was before, and my shoulders appeared to be wider than most people were tall, with bowling ball delts that redefined the word “shredded.” I swear I would have to turn sidewise just to get into my apartment now! Finally my eye’s got to my arms, and I’d obviously saved the best for last. My arms were easily thicker than most guys legs. My biceps and triceps bulged, even unflexed, to mountainous proportions. I could see each head of the muscles clearly, and each were accentuated with thick veins that highlighted their vascularity. Even my forearms were a roadmap of veins and rippling muscles, and probably nearly as big as my biceps had been! “Holy shit! This is INCREDIBLE.” I said flexing my powerful biceps in the mirror. I was completely mesmerized by their parabolic shape. “Any chance you can tell me how big I am now?” “Sure, measuring tape is right hear for customers. We can make modifications until you are fully satisfied. Please undress for measurements.” She said with an easy smile. Whoever this lady was, she really took customer satisfaction to an extreme! Ten hours ago, I would never have have stripped in front of a stranger. Hell, I wouldn’t have stripped in front of anyone. But today had been an eventful day. I’d fucked someone in Starbucks, and now gained at least two hundred pounds of solid muscle, what did I really have to be embarrassed about? I quickly stripped and damn did I look HOT! I was a wet-dream made flesh. My massive muscles stood in bold relief, flexed even when I was just standing there. My glowing tan skin accented by body, making me look looked a bronzed statue of some gorgeous hyper-muscled Greek god or X-Men comic superhero. Of course, at the center of it all, my massive equipment hung low and full, so maybe it was more like XXX-Men. Despite my huge proportions, I didn't look just like some overgrown freak. My muscles were all perfectly complimentary…Its hard to explain but I just looked like one prime specimen! I flexed on command as she measured, giving me my new measurements as she went. I now stood 6 feet 4 inches tall, not a huge gain in height but my extra width made me seem far larger. My neck was 22” around and my incredible chest was 64”. My arms were each 24” though they looked even bigger thanks to my incredible definition and parabolically split-bicep peaks. She measured my poster-boy 10-pack abs at 32”, a far cry from my blubbery 44” waist that morning. My quads were 34” around, each bigger than my waist! And my calves were no slouches either at 23” massive inches each. Stepping onto the scale she told me I now weighed 335 lbs and my bodyfat was at 4.4%. In one eventful afternoon I’d gained 4 inches in height and over 200lbs of solid muscle. All the number and flexing got my juices flowing more. By the time she was done measuring, I had a raging hard-on. Again, the old me would have been mortified, but that really didn’t make sense anymore. Before I could even suggest it, she grabbed her tape measure and stretched it up and around my oh-so-sensitive dick. 16” long and 6” around. Damn, I must to have the biggest cock in the world! Just hearing those numbers caused my dick to spasm, sending thick ropes of cum across the mirror for nearly a minute. I started to apologize, but she just silenced me with a look. “You seem happy now, are you satisfied?” I just smiled, unable to take my eyes of my reflection. Perfect body, massive cock, and ruggedly-handsome face. This really was a dream come true! “Very satisfied,” I said with a deep chuckle. “My only problem is I am going to need a lot of new clothes!” “I have plenty more to fit BIG men like you. I will get some together while you get dressed, you don’t want to be late for the party Dearie!” She said with a smile, leaving me alone in the back room. I got dressed, still amazed at how this costume stretched to fit my every curve perfectly. I honestly couldn’t say if I looked better naked or clothed; hell I didn’t really matter. I looked fucking amazing regardless. I didn’t even need to flex to look hotter than any bodybuilder I’d even seen. It was all simply unbelievable. I was just about to leave the room when my wide shoulder brushed up against an drawer she’d left open. As I turned to close it I noticed a collection of rings, all with similar markings to the bracelet she’d given me before my transformation. Out of character, I took 6 of the rings, throwing them in the inner pocket of my vest. I had no idea what they did, but they seemed to call to me. Walking to the front of the store, Janice, she finally told me her name, handed me a large bag full of clothes with a warm smile. “These should get you started, I keep things in all sizes for my customers. All the essentials plus there are a few surprises in their too. If you need anything else come back to see me, I will be here next Halloween weekend as well. I hope you will be happy for now.” “How could I not be happy?” I replied smiling and pulsing my big pecs, “this is what I’ve always dreamed of. I never thought I’d be so happy to have gone costume shopping.” She gave a slight bow and I headed out of the store. Finally I was on my way to the party, preparing for what was bound to be the greatest nights of my life... ******************************* All I can say is, Thank God I had a Wrangler. I never would have fit in a normal car. As it was my 335lbs were feeling cramped as I pulled into the parking lot about 40 minutes after the official start of the party. I would be walking in late and, hopefully, all eyes would be on me for my BIG entrance. After flexing in the reflection of the windows one more time, I buckled my toy sword (man did this thing looks small now) and headed into the reception hall. The first person I walked into, literally since she was so small compared to my now gigantic form, was Amanda. My boss was dressed up as cat-women, and I have to admit she pulled off the tight leather outfit well, filling it out in all the right places. Her appreciation for my costume my obvious, because her mouth dropped open as she bounced off my line-backer sized pectorals. “Holy Shit Mark, is that you? Are these for real?” She said, placing her tiny hand on one of my thick pecs. I bounced and flexed it for her approval, watching as she licked her lips in unadulterated lust. “I had no idea you had that hiding under your work clothes! You are certainly going to be a hit with that costume! How about we get you a drink?” She asked. I just smiled down at her as she wrapped her arm around my colossal bicep, noticing how her small her hand looked in comparison to my strong bicep. Our trip to the bar took forever, mostly because Amanda insisted on taking me around the party and showing me off. I quickly realized she was trying to make it seem like we had more of a connection than we truly did, but to be honest I really didn’t care. I simply smiled, flexed, and enjoyed the endless stream of compliments on my “costume” and body. Nearly everyone asked to feel my flexed bicep, chest, or abs. I was all to happy to oblige. I’d never had any muscles to speak of, let alone flex. I’d only been at the party for 30 minutes and already was the star of the evening. I’d had nearly a dozen numbers slipped to me when I realized I really needed that drink. Finally, after reassuring my new fan club would return, I broke free to get to the bar. It was great watching the crowd part for me as I walked, and seeing the eyes move across my pumped torso to inevitably land on my packed crotch. This was going to be one hell of a party! When I, got to the bar my night took a whole new turn; that’s where I met Chris. Chris had been one of the first people I’d noticed at work, and one of the few in the office that morning. Not only did he have a beautiful smile, but his well-tailored suit accentuated what was clearly a fantastic body. Now I saw just how good a body it was! Chris was wearing a small leather gladiator skirt, a sword buckled across his beautiful chest, and some leather sandals. Combined with his Italian skin, thick black hair and piercing blue eyes made him a real stunner. Not even one of the digitally enhanced guys from 300 could have held a candle to him; He must have been 250 lbs of solid gorgeous muscleman! Confident in my new body, I walked right up to the bar next to him. Chris spilled his drink as my massive framed filled his field of vision. Clearly he wasn’t used to having someone bigger than him around. To intimidate him a bit, I placed my significantly larger arm on the bar next to him. Flexing slightly, I ordered a scotch on the rocks. He was staring at me this whole time in awe, so while I waited for my drink I turned to him with a smile. That’s when I noticed it. Right around his left-wrist was a tiny intricate tattoo. Yep, nearly identical to the one I had early that day. Now things were really getting interesting. “Chris,” I said in my deepest rumble, “My names Mark, I’m the new guy.” He just gulped in response as my hand engulfed his during our handshake. “Love the costume, Janice pick it out?” The look of shock on his face was priceless, although he quickly covered it with that handsome smile, “Yeah, she uhhh... helped me out two Halloween’s ago when I first moved here. I’ve been, well...enjoying it ever since. You obviously went with a larger costume?” “Well I have to tell you,” I said leaning close, “I didn’t plan on it, but I’m certainly loving the results,” I flexed my massive bicep in his face, letting him take in all 24 perfect inches of it. “What do you think?” He leaned in close, practically whispering to me, “I think you are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I also think that if I don’t get what’s left of those pants off you soon I’m going to rip them off in the middle of this room.” My deep rumble of a laugh made heads turn. Never before had I thought I would be proposition like this at any bar. And to have it happen over my Halloween “costume” and by one of the hottest guys I’d ever seen, yeah never! “Well we wouldn’t you to have to do that, might start a riot.” I rumbled with a sly smile. “Then how about we solve both our problem’s? Meet me upstairs in conference room 3C. Five minutes, don’t be late.” With that Chris speed off through the crowd and disappeared out the doors. ****************************** What a day of firsts. I’d started a new job like any normal person. Then I’d grown an extra 200+ pounds and 4 inches of absolutely astounding muscles, had someone beg me to fuck them at Starbucks, become the center of attention at a party, been propositioned at a bar, and now I was fucking an insanely gorgeous muscle-stud on my company’s conference room table with my 16” cock. Chris, the fuckee in this case, was loving every second of it. He couldn’t get enough of my size and my strength. I’d been lifting the conference table and flexing every muscle for him, all while he jerked himself off and licked every inch of my god-like body. Eventually, like Daniel, he started to beg me to fuck him. I easily lifted him up and placed him on my 16” cock, his augmented ass sliding perfectly around it. He went wild at my show of power, wrapping his thick legs around my powerful body. Soon both of us were lost in ecstasy as I fucked him on the conference table. He licked/rubbed/squeezed/tweaked every part of my superior body. I don’t know how much time passed while we fucked. But as I unloaded my third incredible orgasm inside Chris’ beautiful ass I heard a gasp. Amanda, my boss, was standing there staring at me. She watched with a slack jaw while Chris moaned with the removal of my huge hard cock out of his overloaded ass. Flicking a drop of cum from my still rock-hard cock, I smiled at her and waved. “There is plenty of me to go around. Ready for a ride pussy-cat?” This was going to be the best Halloween ever. ***********************************
  10. dangerdanger

    Pay per Fran [ESPAÑOL]

    English version in here. UNO Mis padres siempre me educaron en la cultura del esfuerzo, por lo que a ninguno de mis amigos les sorprendió que a los veinticinco años me comprara mi departamento. Había trabajado mucho para conseguir la plata suficiente, haciendo horas extras, trabajando freelance los fines de semana y ahorrando todo lo que podía y gastando lo menos posible. Pedí un préstamo a un banco y eso fue todo. Me mudé apenas me dieron la llave y durante seis meses disfruté de la soledad y me relajé. Pasado ese tiempo decidí que lo mismo que había hecho para conseguir la mitad del departamento lo podía hacer para conseguir la otra mitad y para eso no iba a escatimar en nada. Si volvía a tomar trabajos freelance, un poco de horas extras y alquilaba una de las habitaciones que me quedaba libre, entonces no tardaría en juntar todo el dinero que necesitaba. Así fue como le comenté a mis amigos que tenía una habitación disponible para alquilar. A varios amigos les interesó pero ninguno tenía suficiente dinero para pagar el lugar, no era que yo cobrase demasiado, lo que pasaba era que ninguno tenía un trabajo que todavía les permitiera vivir solos. Los días pasaron y una mañana me llegó un mensaje de Fran: -¡Hey, me enteré que estas alquilando un cuarto y yo necesito irme de la casa de mis viejos! ¿Quien era Fran? Habíamos sido compañeros en mi trabajo anterior donde yo era desarrollador y él tester. Era un pibe jodón con quien siempre nos hacíamos bromas. No podría decir que fuese lindo, quizás si agarrabas tan solo su cara no dirías eso, pero había algo en la manera de ser que resultaba seductor, sumado a que tenía un cuerpo… ¿que digo? Un pecho enorme. No era lo que se dice musculoso, tan solo tenía las proporciones perfectas, hacía mucho deporte y le gustaba cuidarse. Practicaba lucha libre y eso debía mantenerlo bastante entrenado. Él siempre supo que a mi me gustaban los hombres, pero nunca le importó. Tenía bastante claro que le gustaban las mujeres por lo que siempre le pellizcaba el culo a alguno para molestarlo, ¡incluso a mí!. En él era tan normal como darte una palmada. Sin embargo todo lo confiado que era con los hombres, con las mujeres se desvanecía. Simplemente cuando una chica le gustaba demasiado apenas podía hablarle. Recuerdo también que muchas de las chicas “que no le gustaban” estaban tan calientes por él como yo y más de una le chupó la pija en el baño de alguna fiesta. La idea de vivir con Fran me excitó desde el primer momento. Me lo imaginaba desnudo en el baño de mi casa y la sola idea ya me servía para acabar. A la semana siguiente dejó caer su bolso en el cuarto vacío y se instaló en casa. Al principio las cosas fueron bastante normales. Ambos desayunábamos juntos y después cada uno se iba al trabajo. Yo volvía por la tarde y disfrutaba de unas horas solo para trabajar hasta que caía la noche y él llegaba. Los mejores momentos era cuando andaba por la casa solo en calzoncillos. Tenía un pecho enorme, tal cual yo recordaba, marcado y ancho. Fran me sacaba una cabeza por lo que si nos cruzábamos en el baño yo tenía la imagen perfecta de sus músculos. —¡Cuidado, enanin! —me decía cuando nos cruzábamos de esa forma y lo decía para molestarme pero a mi me excitaba. Fran necesitaba ahorrar plata pero a diferencia mía no tenía voluntad para trabajar y no gastar. Salía con amigos y se gastaba demasiada plata en cada salida. No me sorprendía que no lograse ahorrar dinero. Según me enteré por un amigo en común solía pagar para tener sexo y al parecer necesitaba tener demasiado sexo por semana. Otra cosa que hacía con ese hermoso cuerpo que tenía era lucha libre por lo que tenía esos trajes ridiculos de spandex que le quedaban de maravilla. Resaltaban sus anchos hombros, su pecho y su pija. Me lo imaginaba luchando con esa ropa con algún otro hombre vestido igual y la idea me alcanzaba para toda la noche. Las cosas comenzaron a cambiar una tarde que vino enojado de entrenar. El entrenador le había dicho que necesitaba ganar peso para competir en el torneo. —¿Cuanto tenés que ganar? —le pregunté. —Tengo que pesar 80 kilos —me respondió. No me parecía tanto y se lo dije. —¡Diez kilos de músculo! —me dijo como si fuera algo obvio— ¡Vos porque nunca ganaste ni un kilo en tu vida! ¡Apuesto que no levantás ni cinco kilos en el gimnasio! Para ganar tanto músculo tendría que comer muchisima carne, ¡con lo caro que sale!, tomar suplementos que son carísimos y además ir a un nutricionista. ¡No puedo pagar todo eso!. Más allá de que la idea de que se volviera más musculoso me excitaba y no tardé ni diez segundos en imaginarme una versión de Fran más fuerte y musculosa… con el pecho enorme y los brazos abultados… también era verdad que lo quería ayudar, al menos a que aprendiera a ser riguroso para conseguir lo que quería. Entonces le ofrecí que si durante un mes el podía enfocar todos sus esfuerzos en este desafío y usar la plata solo para sus objetivos entonces yo lo ayudaría. ¿Como? Durante un mes no le cobraría alquiler. —¿En serio? —me preguntó. —Pero solo si veo que te lo tomas en serio. —¡Obvio! ¡Ya vas a ver! ¡Me voy a volver una bestia! No sé si fueron mis palabras o las ganas que tenía de entrar al torneo pero algo en su actitud cambió de la noche a la mañana. Dejó de salir con amigos y se anotó todos los días en el gimnasio. Nuestra cocina se llenó de suplementos y la heladera de carne, pollo, verduras y otras cosas de las que ni siquiera sabía el nombre. Todos los días después del trabajo se iba a entrenar y llegaba para comer. Ahora él cocinaba para ambos y comía unas cantidades impresionantes de carne y carbohidratos. Tomaba sus suplementos de forma rigurosa y se iba a dormir para descansar lo suficiente. En pocos días noté la diferencia. Cuando salía de bañarse podía ver los cambios. Músculos sobre músculos se le marcaban en la espalda que de pronto había crecido unos cuantos centímetros. Sus hombros se volvieron más redondos y su pecho se marcó como si de pronto quisiera salirse de su cuerpo. Sus brazos se volvieron más grandes y sus piernas comenzaron a convertirse en jamones. Lo que también comenzó a suceder es que se tomaba duchas mas largas, después de las cuales siempre decía con una sonrisa y guiñándome un ojo: —Hay que atender a la bestia —y se rascaba la pija debajo de la toalla. Y así como él se masturbaba todos los días yo hacía lo mismo después… imaginando su cuerpo, sus músculos duros y fuertes y sobre todo su enorme pecho mientras crecía. El mes pasó pronto y una mañana me dijo: —Gané 5 kilos. ¿5 kilos? ¡Parecía como si hubiera ganado 20! Todos sus músculos se habían vuelto más grandes. —Lo que pasa es que perdí algo de grasa y gané más masa muscular. Y para remarcar su punto flexionó su brazo. Era enorme. —¡Felicitaciones! ¡Yo sabía que podrías hacerlo! Pero en lugar de sonreír se puso serio y me dijo: —¿Doble o nada? —¿Eh? —Doble o nada. Hacemos otro mes igual a este y si no llego a ganar otros cinco kilos te devuelvo toda la plata… —¿… y si lo lográs? Se quedó pensando durante unos segundos. —No te pago el alquiler por dos meses más… Más allá de que la diferencia de recibir o no el alquiler era importante, la idea de verlo crecer más aún me estaba calentando. —¡Trato hecho!—dije y le estreché la mano que me ofrecía. Fran apretó con fuerza. El mes siguiente fue una locura. Por alguna razón que desconozco Fran dejó de usar remeras de un día para otro. Todos los días veía sus enormes músculos pasearse por toda mi casa. Sus piernas todas marcadas, sus abdominales y su enorme pecho (cada día más grande). Cada día cocinaba cantidades más grandes de comida que comía frente a mi solo en calzones. Cuando terminaba se golpeaba la panza y sonreía. Era como verlo inflarse delante mío. Sus duchas eran interminables, era demasiado obvio que se estaba masturbando como loco. Y yo después de él, pensando en él y en lo enorme que se estaba volviendo. La noche anterior a que terminara el mes trajo una balanza. —Mañana es el gran día —dijo y se fue a dormir. A la mañana siguiente cuando me levanté ya había hecho el desayuno. Se estaba levantando incluso más temprano que yo. Solo llevaba puesto unos calzones calvin klein que le marcaban la pija… —¿Lees? —me dijo parado sobre la balanza. —92 kilos —¡Ja! —dijo y se bajó de la balanza flexionando ambos brazos— ¡Soy una bestia! Dicho eso se puso a comer. Yo todavía no entendía que había pasado, estaba demasiado dormido. Tardé unos segundos en hacer las cuentas, había ganado más de 5 kilo, ¿no? Los dos meses siguientes que había ganado para vivir gratis fueron más de lo mismo. E incluso llegué a creer que se había vuelto loco, era una persona totalmente diferente. Estaba obsesionado con las cantidad de la comida, con las horas de sueño, con las cantidades de pesos de cada ejercicio. Pero todo eso parecía estar dando resultado ya que crecía cada día más y no solo sus músculos eran mas grandes, estaba creciendo en altura. Una noche que salió de la ducha vi como su pelo rozaba el marco de la puerta. Pero no solo eso, sus hombros también. Se tuvo que comprar ropa nueva porque la anterior ya no le entraba. Sus brazos eran demasiado gruesos y su pecho parecía ser el doble que antes. Cuando los dos meses que había ganado gratis se terminaron algo cambió de repente. La semana siguiente usó remera todos los días. Yo me había acostumbrado a ver su impresionante cuerpo lleno de músculos pasearse por casa… ese enorme pecho al que imaginaba todo el tiempo creciendo cada vez más… Al quinto día le dije: —¿Che, Fran, pasa algo? —¿Por? —me preguntó él levantando la cara del plato de comida. —No sé… digo… estás como raro… —¿Yo? ¿Por? —No sé… digo… —jamás podría decir lo que pensaba… ni siquiera sabía lo que estaba pensando… Ahi Fran sonrió. —¿Me estás preguntando porque no ando más sin remera? —¡¿Que?! ¡No, obvio que no! —¿Entonces? —No nada… dejá… Esa noche se sentó frente a mi con su enorme plato de comida y me dijo serio. —Okey, necesito plata… Lo miré sin entender. —Con lo que gano no me alcanza y necesito plata. —¿Y que vas a hacer? Me miró serio, corrió el plato de comida y me dijo: —Quiero hacer un… trato… —¿Un trato? —Si… —¿Que clase de trato? —Bueno… ¿viste… viste como yo…? Lo miré esperando su respuesta. —¿Alguna vez pagaste por ver a alguien? —¿Eh? ¿De qué estás hablando? —¡Dale, chabon! ¡Ya sabés de lo que te estoy hablando! ¡Un stripclub! —Fran, no te sigo… pero no, nunca fui a uno de esos lugares. —Bueno, es un lugar donde uno paga por ver a minas… o tipos… bailar desnudas… desnudos… Lo miré sin poder creer lo que me estaba diciendo. Debajo de la mesa la pija se me puso dura en un segundo. —¿Me estás diciendo que te pague por verte desnudo? —Algo asi… —dijo sonriendo. —¡¿QUE?! —por dentro mi corazón estaba saltando de alegría pero al mismo tiempo no entendía que estaba pasando. —¡No pienses cualquier cosa! ¡Pensalo como un… win win…! Yo necesito plata… y vos… y a vos te gustan los tipos… digo… dado que a mi me gustan las minas con tetas bien grandes me imaginé que a vos quizás te gustaban los tipos… musculosos y fuertes… como yo… —¿Estás loco? —¡NO! Pensalo así…es como que me auspiciarías… me darías una mano… y yo a cambio te dejo ver mi cuerpo… mis músculos… ¡daaaale! ¡No me vas a decir que te dan ganas de ver el lomo que tengo! —… —Imaginate esto… vuelvo de entrenar a casa… y estoy todo duro… tengo todos los músculos enormes… tan duros que apenas puedo bajar los brazos…. ¿no te ganas ganas de ver lo fuerte que me estoy poniendo? —Estás loco… —dije y me levanté y me fui a dormir. Esa noche apenas pude dormir y me masturbé 5 veces antes de que sonara el despertador. Me levanté destruido. Fran comía el desayuno. Me senté frente a él intentando despertarme. —No dormiste nada, ¿no? —No… —¿Cuantas veces te pajeaste? —Cinco… —¡¿Cinco?! ¡Ja! ¡Zarpado! ¿Tanto te excita mi cuerpo? Dije si con la cabeza. —¡Que chabon! Y pregunté pensar dije: —¿Por cuanto tiempo? Fran me miró y sonrió. —Lo que vos digas. —Okey… vamos a probar con un mes y vemos. Se levantó y se acercó a mi silla. Me levantó como si no pesara nada y me abrazó apretándome contra su pecho. Después me soltó y sin esperar un minuto se sacó la remera con el movimiento más impresionante que vi en mi vida. Con ambos brazos agarró la parte de abajo y como si levantara una bandera se sacó la remera. Sus abdominales perfectos aparecieron uno encima de otro y después su pecho enorme… fuerte… —¡Vas a ver! —me dijo mientras flexionaba ambos brazos—¡Vas a disfrutar cada día de ver el lomo que tengo! ¡Me voy a poner enorme! Me voy a volver el hombre más musculoso que viste en tu puta vida y me voy a pasear delante tuyo para que lo veas. Me despeinó con una mano y se fue a cambiar para ir al trabajo. Ese mes fue una locura. Fran crecía como una bestia. Todos los días lo veía más y más grande y ya no solo se paseaba sin remera, sino que cada tanto flexionaba ambos brazos y me decía: —¿Y? ¿Que tal mis músculos? ¿Te gusta lo que estás viendo? ¡Me estoy poniendo enorme! Yo me quedaba mudo, viendo el tamaño imposible de su pecho. ¡Así tenía que ser el pecho de un hombre! A fin de mes no solo pesaba casi 100 kilos sino que además me sacaba dos cabezas. Cuando nos cruzábamos en el baño me decía cosas como: —¿Que tal la vista desde ahí abajo, putito? ¿Estoy demasiado grande? ¿Cuantas veces vas a pajearte hoy después de verme en bolas? —y flexionaba su pecho enorme y fuerte— Apuesto que tengo el pecho más grandes que viste en tu puta vida. En el gimnasio no hay nadie que tenga unas tetas como yo —dijo y mientras se masajeaba el pecho con una mano— No te das una idea la fuerza que tengo en mis pectorales, te apuesto a que puedo levantar más de diez veces tu peso. Cuando termino de entrenar tengo el pecho tan duro que apenas me puedo poner la remera. ¿Te acordas el traje de lucha que usaba cuando me vine a vivir acá? ¿Te imaginás como me quedaría ahora con estos músculos? ¿Te gustaría que me lo pusiera? Sin pensarlo dije que si… —¡jaja! Que puto que sos… Esa noche me masturbé sin parar hasta que me dolió la pija. Cuando llegó el mes siguiente le dije: —¿Como seguimos? Yo solo quería verlo sin remera… cada día más grande y musculoso… lo imaginaba teniendo que agacharse para pasar por la puerta. —Hagamos esto… ¿Que te parece si hacemos un arreglo por peso? —¿Por peso? —¡Claro! En lugar de que yo no te pague el alquiler… vos me pagas por kilo… —¿Por kilo? —Es así, ya hice las cuentas… vos ahora me estás “dando” esta plata que es igual al total del alquiler… ¿no? Si dividimos este numero por mi peso… da esto... ¿me seguís? Entonces pensé que quizás podemos bajar un poco el precio por kilo… de ese modo yo tendría que ganar aproximadamente… mmm… veinte kilos más para seguir sin pagar… ¿se entiende? Agarré la hoja donde había hecho todos los cálculos y la miré mientras pensaba: ¿20 kilos más de músculo? Fran ya era enorme, o sea podía aparecer en cualquier portada de cualquier revista de deporte. ¿Podía ganar más músculo? —De esa manera me estimulo a crecer y vos… podes verlo… ¿que te parece? —dijo y me guiñó el ojo— ¿Te imaginás lo que va a ser mi cuerpo con 20 kilos mas? Lo que pasó ese mes cambió todo. Yo había imaginado que Fran seguiría creciendo como venía haciendo hasta entonces… quizás un poco más lento, pero que todo sería mas o menos igual. Estaba muy equivocado. Ahi fui cuando vi lo que podían hacer los anabólicos. Al términar la primer semana fue como si de repente hubiera inflado todos sus músculos y los mantuviera todo el tiempo en tensión. Fue como si sus músculos adquirieran otra calidad, otra fuerza. Al principio no me imaginé lo que estaba pasando, pero algunas cosas me empezaron a llamar la atención. Poco a poco estaba más agresivo… —Mirá puto, mirá el tamaño de mis brazo —me decía y flexionaba sus brazos para después mirarme sobre su pecho como si mirara una basura— Así tiene que ser el cuerpo de un hombre…no esa mierdita enana que sos vos A veces se me acercaba demasiado y “sin querer” me empujaba: —Uh, disculpá putito, no te ví ahi abajo. A veces no me doy cuenta lo enorme que estoy. O a veces tan solo me decía: —¿Y? ¿Te está gustando lo que ves? ¿Que sentís al verme sin remera? ¿Te calienta mi pecho musculoso? No te das una idea lo fuerte que estoy. En el gimnasio estoy levantando como un toro. Después de cada una de esas frases yo solo podía encerrarme en mi cuarto a masturbarme. Una mañana de sábado recuerdo que me levanté temprano, fui a la cocina y me preparé el desayuno. Primero escuché la puerta de su cuarto abrirse y después los pasos de oso que daba Fran al caminar. Yo estaba preparándome el café cuando sentí su sombra enorme pasar por encima mío. Sin decir nada abrió la heladera y la volvió a cerrar. Cuando lo miré estaba tomando leche directamente del cartón. Solo tenía puestos unos calzoncillos que dejaban a la vista la enorme pija que todavía estaba un poco parada. Su cuerpo era una montaña de músculos. Sus piernas apretaban contra la tela del calzón pero su cintura era del tamaño justo, solo si seguías subiendo su cuerpo se ensanchaba hasta ser casi del tamaño de una puerta doble. Un pecho impresionante todo musculoso coronaba los abdominales marcados y a ambos lados unos hombros gigantescos con unos brazos abultados llenos de venas. Un poco de leche le cayó sobre el pecho y dibujó un río entre los pectorales gigantescos. Entonces me di cuenta que Fran me miraba. Me guiñó un ojo y tuve que irme despacio al baño y masturbarme con la imagen de su cuerpo desnudo y duro tomando leche. El último día del mes, después de desayunar, dijo: —Veni, putito. Vamos a pesarme. Se paró sobre la balanza pero ni siquiera se asomó sobre su pecho para mirar. —¿Que dice? Me agaché para ver. —125 kilos… —jaja… te dije… Yo no lo podía creer. O sea, se notaba la diferencia. Fran estaba enorme, una montaña de músculos todos marcados, uno sobre otros. —Me debes esto —me dijo mostrándome un papel con una cuenta. —¡¿Que?! —Es lo que habíamos arreglado… el arreglo era por kilo y ¿ves como acá dice que si pesaba 120 me pagabas exactamente lo mismo que el alquiler? Bueno, ahora peso 5 kilos mas que eso. Por lo que me debes esta plata. No es mucho… Yo no lo podía creer y me lo quedé mirando con la boca abierta. —¿Que pasa? ¿No me querés pagar? Su cara cambió de repente. Dio un paso hacia adelante y yo uno hacia atrás. Estaba contra la pared. —Te das cuenta que no es muy buena idea no querer pagarle a un hombre de 125 kilos, ¿no? Mirá el lomo que tengo… ¿Sabés lo que puedo hacerte con estos músculos? Eso bastó para que saliera corriendo a buscar mi billetera. Traje la plata y la puse sobre la mesa. Él la miró todavía enojado y en un segundo cambió la expresión. Con una sonrisa dijo: —Te estaba boludeando, enano. Quedátela, estos cinco kilos de músculo van por mi cuenta. Disfrutalos —dijo e hizo su pecho subir y bajar— Seguimos entonces con el mismo arreglo… ¿te parece? Solo que esta vez aclaramos que sin importar cuanto peso gane no me tenés que dar plata vos. ¿Te parece? Yo todavía estaba temblando. Dije si. —Pero si te parece podemos agregar esta otra hoja. Y me pasó una hoja con precios. Me miró con una sonrisa. La miré sin entender nada. —Te lo explico… esto que vez acá es el precio por tocar… y esto que vez acá es el grupo muscular. Por ejemplo si me querés tocar el pecho durante un minuto sale tanto… ¿se entiende? Mi cabeza de pronto se había detenido. —¿Que pasa? ¿Te lo tengo que explicar? ¡Es fácil, enano! La idea es que me pagues por tocarme. ¿O me decís que no te dan ganas de tocar estos músculos? Mírame el pecho… bueno, sale esto. Se paró y se fue a cambiar para ir al trabajo. Ese día llamé a la oficina diciendo que estaba enfermo. Me masturbé hasta que pensé que me moría. Después dormí y cuando faltaba poco para que Fran volviera a casa me fui a caminar. Mi cabeza no paraba de dar vueltas, nunca me había pasado algo como eso. Simplemente estaba perdido…. era una locura… O sea, era mucha guita. La verdad… ¿que estaba pensando? ¡No iba a pagar por tocarlo! ¡Era ridículo! Cuando volví a casa él estaba terminando de comer. Puse la plata en la mesa y respiré hondo. Fran sonrió, se limpió la boca con la mano, corrió la silla, abrió las piernas y mirándose el pecho con una sonrisa perversa dijo: —Todo tuyo. Incluso sentado me sacaba una cabeza. Yo era un enanito frente a un gigante musculoso. Me acerqué temblando y apoyé ambas manos sobre su enorme pecho. Era mucho más duro y suave de lo que había imaginado. Era impresionante, casi tan grande como mis dos almohadas. Era pesado y cada vez que lo levantaba caía de nuevo. De pronto lo puso duro y fue como si se volviera una roca. Comencé a masajearlo… —¿Te gusta enano? ¿Te gusta tocar mi pecho? ¡Así es un pecho de hombre! Salí corriendo y me encerré en el baño un segundo antes de acabar. No había llegado ni a tocarlo durante un minuto. Se imaginan como siguió todo. Bueno, yo no… nunca pensé que me podría pasar algo como esto. Cada día que llegaba a casa me decía a mi mismo que no iba a pagar más… que esperaría hasta la próxima semana… o bueno, hasta dentro de tres días… aguantaría hasta mañana… Cada día pagaba por tocarlo. Y cada día pasaba lo mismo. —¿Te gustan mis brazos? —decía y los flexionaba mientras yo lo tocaba— Apretá fuerte, dale. ¡Apretá como hombre! Ja, imagínate la fuerza que tengo que ni siquiera podes apretar un centímetro… ¡Dale apretá con fuerza, putito! ¡Mirá las manos de enano que tenés sobre mis enormes músculos! Lo toqué todo y cuando lo toqué todo varias veces trajo una nueva hoja con “promos”. “Cuerpo completo” o “después de entrenar” o “en pose”. Las probé todas… y al final del mes me di cuenta que había gastado todo mi sueldo. No podía creerlo, pero al mismo tiempo no podía parar… Al día siguiente fue Fran el que dijo: —Ahora no puedo, mañana. Se puso una remera sobre sus enormes músculos y salió. Esa noche no pude dormir y tuve que masturbarme de nuevo hasta que me doliera todo. A la madrugada lo escuché volver, pero no estaba solo. —Shhhh, no hagas ruido que mi amigo está durmiendo… —dijo en voz baja. A los cinco minutos la mina empezó a gritar mientras él se la cogía en su cuarto. Intenté masturbarme de nuevo pero solo logré que me salieran lágrimas de los ojos. Fran empezó a traer mujeres casi todas las noches. Algunas tuve que conocerlas ya que me las cruzaba en la cena y otras tan solo las escuché gritar… una… dos…. tres… cuatro… cinco veces… Fran estaba cogiendo por todo lo que antes no había cogido. De seguro estaba aprovechando toda la plata que yo le había dado por tocarlo para pagar por esas mujeres… porque no había duda de que eran putas… o sea… eran mujeres demasiado impresionantes como para no serlo… Una mañana después de que desayunásemos Fran, yo y una de ellas y de que ella se fuera sin siquiera saludarme le pregunté: —¿Cuanto te cobra? Fran me miró sonriendo. Su cuerpo estaba inmenso. Hacía varias semanas que no tocaba esos músculos y solo podía imaginar lo duros que estaban ahora. Estiró los brazos dejándome ver el tamaño de sus músculos. Estaba inmenso, nunca había visto un hombre tan grande. Dejó escapar una risa. —Ya no pago… —No entiendo… –Yo no soy el que paga… Lo miré sin entender. Se puso de pie para ir a su cuarto… su espalda era una montaña de músculos haciendo un trabajo perfecto. Cuando volvió traía un cajón. Adentro estaba lleno de fajos de billetes. —Son ellas las que pagan. —¡¿Que….?! ¿Me estás jodiendo? ¿Cuanto…? —¡ja! ¿Que pasa? ¿Querés saber cuanto cuesta que te coja esta montaña de músculos? —dijo y su pecho subió y bajó para después flexionar sus brazos… ¡Dios mío, eran enormes! Me quedé mudo. —Jaja, que puto que sos… Acá está el precio. Era imposible que alguien pagara… que una mina pagara… era mucho… ¿aceptaría tarjeta? ¿También era para tipos? —Vení que te muestro —me dijo y casi se me paró el corazón. Pero no fue lo que yo imaginaba. Se sentó en el sillón y prendió la notebook. Me senté a lado. Apoyó la notebook en la mesita y le dio play al video. Se dejó caer contra el respaldo y pasó la mano por arriba mío, me apretó contra su cuerpo —mi cachete apretado por su pecho— y dijo: —Vas a ver todo el show. La mina estaba en cuatro sobre la cama moviéndose hacia atrás y hacia adelante. Estaba filmado con el celular. Fran lo levantó y filmó el cuerpo de ella desde arriba y después se filmó a él. Todos sus músculos enormes y transpirados brillaban por la poca luz del cuarto. Era un compilado en el que se cogía a una mina tras otra. Algunas de parado. Otras contra la pared, otras las aplastaba bajo sus músculos. Era una locura…. pero lo que era una locura era el tamaño de su pija. Era imposiblemente grande. Fue entonces que puso su enorme mano sobre mi pantalón y empezó a acariciarme. —Mejor sin esto —dijo y me sacó el pantalón en un segundo. Mi pija estaba parada debajo de calzóncillo…. parada es una forma de decir… nunca tuve una pija grande… bueno, okey… la tengo bastante chica… Fran ahogó una risa y me empezó a masturbar con dos dedos. Cada dedo suyo era mas grande que mi pija. —Es como un pescadito —me dijo con tono de burla— ¿No se te pone dura? La verdad era que no se me ponía nunca muy dura… Estaba por decir algo cuando vi lo que estaba pasando en su pantalón. Era como si hubiera metido dos bananas… tres bananas en su bolsillo. —¿Querés ver una pija en serio? —dijo y con su otra mano llevó la mía hasta tocar su pija. Acabé en un segundo. —¡Uhhgg! ¡Boludo! —dijo y se limpió el semen en mi remera—. ¡Que chabon! Vení… encárgate vos de esta… Y se sacó el pantalón. La pija más grande que vi en mi vida se paró delante de mis ojos. —Tan grande como el resto de mis músculos… —dijo bromeando mientras me miraba y miraba su pija gigantesca—¿Y? ¿No vas a hacer nada? Con la mano temblando le agarré la pija. Era tan grande y estaba tan dura que no podía cerrar la mano. —Con las dos —me dijo. Y lo agarré rápido con la otra. Apoyó la cabeza contra el respaldo y se echó para atrás. —Mas fuerte. Su pija era mas grande que mi brazo extendido, era simplemente enorme y no pude imaginar quien podría aguantar… que mina podría soportar que se le cogieran con una pija tan grande. —Mas fuerte, enano. Todo su cuerpo estaba cubierto de músculos enormes, duros y brillantes. Incluso desnudo era como si tuviera una armadura puesta y su pija era una espada… un cañón. —Más fuerte… ¡dale! Estaba apretando con todas mis fuerzas, pero él apenas lo sentía. Se puso de pie y me levantó con una mano. Me cargó hasta el baño, prendió la luz y se paró frente al espejo. Todo su cuerpo musculoso brillando bajo la luz del baño. Me sentó en su pija y me dijo: —Hace como si fuera tu pija… ¡Dale! Me agarré para no caerme. —Imaginate que te creció una pija enorme de repente… ¡Dale! Imagínate que te podes a coger a todas las minas… que todas se mueren por chuparte la pija… por tocarte los músculos —y mientras decía eso flexionaba ambos brazos— que sos el hombre más musculoso del mundo, más fuerte que un toro y más duro que un tanque. Imagínate que empezás a ganar guita porque todos quieren tocarte los músculos y vos solo creces y creces y tenés una fuerza de la puta madre y estás todo duro y podes garchar por horas y horas y acabar una y otra vez. Ahhh… soy enorme. Mirá el lomo que tengo, putito. Mirá el tamaño de mis músculos. Soy una bestia… ¿sabes lo que hacen las bestias como yo? Cogen… Me bajó de su pija y me dejó en el piso frente a él con su pija apuntando a mi cara. Era el gigante musculoso más grande que había visto en mi puta vida. —Mirá putito… mirá el tamaño de mis músculos… imaginate lo que te haría si te garchara con esta pija… te rompería el culo… no podrías volver a sentarte en tu puta vida… ¿querés probarla? Apuesto a que me querés chupar toda la pija… —Si… —Jajaja, que puto que sos… está bien, esta corre por mi cuenta. Y con una mano en mi cabeza me sostuvo mientras me acercaba la pija. Era enorme, era demasiado grande, imposible que me entrara en la boca. —Abrí grande… jaja, te voy a romper la boca, boludo… soy enorme… Yo respiraba por la nariz intentando no ahogarme… —¿Que pasa, enano? ¿La tengo muy grande? Eso te pasa por querer chuparle la pija a un gigante como yo. ahhhh… Te rompería la boca solo porque sos un puto de mierda… Mirá el tamaño de mis músculos… Esto es un hombre… No esa mierda enana que sos vos… Mirá mis brazos… Mirá lo fuerte que estoy… Esto es un hombre… ¿Me escuchaste, putito? ¡Abrí la boca o te la rompo con mi poronga! Apuesto a que te morís de ganas de tocarme los músculos… No podes pagarlo enano. Estoy demasiado grande, demasiado duro, soy demasiado fuerte. Y ni bien acabó me atraganté y todo se volvió blanco y después negro… A la semana siguiente Fran había renunciado a su trabajo. Cuando yo regresaba de la oficina (lo más rápido que podía) encontraba el tacho de basura lleno de preservativos gigantes y ropa rota de mujer. Fran se había convertido en un prostituto… Con la guita que ganaba empezó a comprarse ropa de marca, perfumes, computadoras, celulares, todas cosas carísimas y para coronarlo se compró una camioneta tan enorme como él. Estaba cobrando tanta plata que me regalaba guita: —Comprate algo, putito. Pero yo solo quería pagarle… Quería tocar su enorme lomo… Ahora que yo apenas le llegaba a la cintura Fran se había convertido en un dios inmenso, fuerte y musculoso… y en mi bolsillo yo apretaba la plata que había sacado del banco. Un día encontré en el piso la hoja con los nuevos precios… Ni siquiera el sueldo de un mes me alcanzaría para tocarlo durante un minuto… Fran se había vuelto un prostituto VIP… Las mujeres que se acostaban con él eran millonarias. Mujeres que solo existían en las revistas y en la televisión. Y Fran se las cogía a todas. Tenía sus clientas regulares que lo amaban, que le tocaban el pecho y se volvían locas con su fuerza, con la enorme pija que tenía. Cuando desayunábamos juntos muchas veces alguna de ella dejaba caer un fajo de billetes sobre la mesa solo para tocarlo mientras él desayunaba. —¿Te gusta mi cuerpo, putita? —le decía él. Una noche llegó con tres mujeres. Con solo verlas se notaba que eran más grandes, quizás tendrían cuarenta años. Todas operadas, con las tetas enormes y llenas de guita, de oro por todos lados. Las llevó a su cuarto y se las empezó a coger… me di cuenta porque empezaron a gritar como locas. Pero de un segundo a otro se quedaron callados y entonces Fran entró en mi cuarto… desnudo. Era como si una montaña de músculos pasara de pronto por la puerta. Tenía todo el cuerpo brillante, cubierto de un aceite que lo hacía verse todavía más grande…. y su pija… gigantesca… parada… dura como un tronco… un mástil frente a mi que estaba acostado en mi cama… —Che, necesito que me hagas un favor… —me dijo desde arriba de sus increíbles músculos… era una bestia toda inflada— Necesito que me filmes cogiéndome a estas viejas… —¿Que? —Son clientas mias y quieren tener un video mío cogiéndomelas… Dijo eso y salió (agachándose para no destrozar la pared). Lo seguí. En su cuarto la ropa estaba tirada por todo el piso y en su cama estaban acostadas las tres mujeres, desnudas, con sus tetas inmensas, sus culos operados y con la cara y el cuerpo cubiertos de semen. —Awww que tierno tu amiguito… —dijo una. —¡Que precioso! ¿Nos vas hacer el favor? ¡Que ternura! —Queremos que lo filmes a él… y ese cuerpo musculoso que tiene cogiéndonos… Sos hermoso, Fran… Un semental… —Filmale el pecho, mirá el pecho enorme que tiene… ¡que macho! —Filmale la pija, mirá esa pija. —¡A mi primero! —gritó una y Fran se la cogió contra la pared, apretándola con sus músculos mientras ella le chupaba el pecho que la aplastaba. —Filmale la espalda, mirá esa espalda llena de músculos… mirá lo fuerte que es… —Mirá esas piernas… Dios mio… es una bestia… Y Fran se las cogió a todas dos veces y yo filmando todo. Cuando terminó se acercó a mi y yo retrocedí hasta quedar pegado contra la pared. Me sacó el celular y se puso a ver el video. Su pija parada todavía goteaba sobre mi cabeza, sus piernas musculosas y enormes me impedían cualquier movimiento. Olía a mucho sexo. Y todo el cuerpo le brillaba. —Bien filmado, putito… estoy enorme —me dijo y con una mano me despeinó me apretó contra sus piernas para luego acostarse en la cama con las tres minas. Los cuatro se pusieron a ver el video mientras ellas lo tocaban y lo besaban y mordían. —¡Gracias, precioso! –dijo una y me tiró un beso. —¡Que buen ojo! ¡Mirá como se ve todo tu cuerpo, Fran! ¡Estas enorme! ¡Mirá estos brazos! Pero una de ellas no decía nada y me miraba. Tenía los ojos grandes y una mirada que entendía las cosas. Se lamió los labios y dijo: —¿Como podemos agradecerte? —mientras le tocaba el pecho a Fran. Pasó su mano sobre esos enormes pectorales y después le agarró la pija todavía dura. —Fran, ¿como podemos pagarle a tu amigo? —¿A él? —me miró y me guiñó un ojo— Creo que ya está contento con verme coger… —¡Aw, en serio? ¿Es de “esos”? —Precioso, ¿así que te gustan los músculos de tu amigo Fran? ¿Viste lo enorme que es? ¡Mirá este pecho! ¡No hay ningún hombre con un pecho tan grande! ¡Que duro! ¡Aw, Fran, sos inmenso! —¿Fran, cuanto te debemos? —Ahi está la lista de precios —dijo él señalando la pared sin dejar de ver el video. La mujer de los ojos grandes se paró y se acercó a la pared. Leyó la lista de precios y después me miró. –Chicas… —dijo y regresó a la cama— ¿Que tal si le hacemos un regalo a nuestro amiguito? —¿Un regalo? —preguntó otra y cuando la primera le susurró al oido sonrió. —¡Un regalo bien grande y musculoso! —Aw, sí, ¿te da ganas, chiquito? ¿Querés saber lo que se siente que te coja el hombre más musculoso del mundo? Mirá el tamaño de esta pija, mirá los hombros que tiene. Mirá este pecho y estos brazos. Es un macho inmenso y coge como los dioses. —Tomá, Fran. Esto es por lo nuestro y esto es por tu amiguito… queremos un servicio completo… así disfruta de todos tus enormes músculos… Fran se puso de pie y se acercó hasta aplastarme con sus piernas. —Parece que es tu día de suerte, putito —dijo mientras se masturbaba la pija llena de semen— Vas a poder disfrutar de todo mi cuerpo… —dijo y me levantó y me sentó en la punta de su pija, pero antes me arrancó la ropa de un tirón. Sentí su pija gigantesca contra mi culo y como se mojaba todo. Su pecho me apretaba contra la pared, intenté empujarlo con mis manos pero era como empujar una pared, una montaña llena de músculos. Fran estaba todo duro y caliente. —¿Que pasa, chiquito? —dijo una de las minas. Ambas se acercaron a Fran y empezaron a tocarle las enormes piernas. —¿No querías esto? ¿No querías tocar los enormes músculos de tu amigo? Mirá lo grande que es. Aprovecha y sácate las ganas de tocarlo. Mirá el pecho que tiene. Mirá estos brazos enormes, mirá lo grandes que son sus músculos. Uh, estás re duro, Fran. Tocale el pecho, dale. —¡Que flacucho de mierda que sos! —me dijo Fran. —¿Que se siente estar sentado en la pija más grande que vas a ver en tu vida? —preguntó una de ellas. —¿Te das cuenta que te va a romper el orto? —preguntó otra. —Intentá defenderte —dijo Fran apretándome contra la pared— Dale, empujá, empujá en serio, dale putito. ¿Que pasa? ¿Estoy muy grande? ¿Soy muy fuerte? —Abrile ese culito que tiene, Fran. —Te voy a mostrar como coge un verdadero hombre. Uh como te va a gustar esto —dijo Fran flexionándo ambos brazos. —Fran, queremos que pongas toda tu fuerza en romperle bien ese culito que tiene. —Ja! —se río Fran— Lo voy a matar solo con abrirsle el culo con mi pija. La tengo demasiado grande para un culo tan chiquito —y después mirándome a mi con una mueca dijo— Dale, enano, tocame todo, sácate las ganas, toca todos mis enormes músculos. Uf, estoy enorme. —Espero que estés preparado, chiquitín —dijo una de ellas—Te va a violar un semental de 200 kilos. Y eso fue lo último que escuché, antes de que Fran me rompiera el culo con su enorme poronga.
  11. musclelovingtwink

    The Prompt

    “Nah. Still no. I don’t get it.” Harry stood with his brow furrowed in front of Jacob, clearly perplexed. Jacob sighed. He’d been ready for this, it was very complex stuff, and Harry wasn’t exactly known for his outstanding intelligence. “Ok, so first off, time isn’t a straight line. We can’t really look at time, but it’s really convoluted…” he began. Harry nodded but already seemed to be lost. “It’s complicated and it crosses over itself and collides at different points.” He drew a big squiggle on the whiteboard to illustrate his point. He gestured to where two parts of the line crossed. “Here, where time collides, is what we call a ‘junction.’” Harry continued to nod. Jacob pointed at the machine. It was essentially a computer hooked up to a helmet, covered in strange electrodes and wires. “This machine sends a signal at a frequency that should be able to pass THROUGH those junctions.” “What, so to a different time?” Harry asked. “Exactly!” Jacob said, excited that his friend was getting it. “This helmet scans your brain waves, and using a sample of your DNA, encodes the signal in a way that would only affect you, but at different points in time.” “Wait, so what, I can get messages from the future?” Harry said, seeming interested suddenly. Jacob rolled his eyes knowing he was thinking about the lottery or something. “Not exactly. Think of it like a really strong hypnosis tape. We put a prompt into the computer, and that message is sent out as a signal. It would be like having an idea soaked into your brain all through your life.” “What do you mean.” Harry said. “Well, it would just be an idea that would be reinforced, like training a dog, but… retroactively. Imagine being able to break a drug addiction by stopping it before it happened, or just changing the way you think just a little bit so you never chose to stop going to the gym or something…” he trailed off, almost revealing too much of his own desires. “Or, for instance, rewriting a lab rat’s mentality so it lost the ability to feel full.” With that he gestured to a glass enclosure which housed a morbidly obese rat, it’s little feet wiggling just enough to reach the floor and roll itself over to the food bowl. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting.” Said Harry, repulsed. “Well, it was a perfectly healthy rat last night. In fact it was a little underweight.” “Jesus. Wait, hang on, so you’re basically telling me that this machine can rewrite history?” he asked, snapping back to attention. “To a degree. It only works on the person wearing the helmet, and it can only change their thought patterns so much. If you try something too radical, the person would consciously reject the idea, and when it kept coming back they’d probably get doped up by a psychologist.” “Ok, so why are you telling me this?” “I need you to be my first human test subject.” Jacob said sheepishly. “Wait, what? And end up like Chubs over there?” Harry said, standing up quickly and pointing at the obese rat which had now rolled onto its side, struggling to get right-side up again. “No, I mean, well, yes, but we don’t need to make the prompt make you FAT, it could be anything!” Jacob said desperately trying to regain Harry’s calmness. “This is for my doctorate, and I need to be able to prove that the machine works.” “Well why don’t you do it yourself?” “I will, but I need to be sure first. I hard-coded it so that whenever my own DNA is used, a secondary prompt will always be used to implant the idea of the machine into me. That way it shouldn’t be able to cause a change that would destroy the machine and prevent me fixing anything that gets fucked up.” “Like me for instance?” said Harry, raising an eyebrow. “Well, yeah.” Jacob said. “Point is, I think it’s completely functional, and it worked on the rat. I just need a human test to make sure the prompt works with the human brain and doesn’t get muddled up somehow.” Harry thought for a while. “And I get to pick the prompt?” he asked, coyly. “Sure. That is, as long as it’s something we can clearly observe.” Harry continued to think. “Fine. But no judgement alright?” “Great! Of course not! So what do you want the prompt to be?” Jacob said, rushing to the computer’s keyboard. “Well, I’ve always been… decently fit I guess.” Started Harry, blushing. It was true, Jacob had always thought Harry had a beautiful body. He was tall and lithe. He wasn’t muscular, per se, but he had a tight swimmer’s build that looked good in everything. “Yeah, and?” “Well I only started really hitting the gym hard recently, and I feel like I sort of missed my prime for it.” “Harry, you’re 24.” “Yeah, I know, but like, if I had’ve worked out seriously through puberty, I could be pretty… hot.” “Ok, so basically you want the prompt to be something like ‘I love working out in the gym.’” Jacob said. “Yeah, that’d make a nice start.” “A start?” said Jacob, half laughing. “Well, if I can rewrite my life, you think I’m stopping after just one go?” “Ok, ok, let’s get to that when we get to it.” Jacob hammered on the keyboard, inputting parameters and the prompt; “I love working out in the gym.” “Alright, we are ready to go, and… done.” He pushed the enter key with a decisive motion. The loud clack of the key was followed by a high-pitched whirring from the computer as fans buzzed to life. Harry felt a tingling sensation in his scalp as automatic sensors wormed their way across his head. After a few minutes, the machine’s activity died down and Harry looked around expectantly. “Is that it?” he asked, sounding a bit let down. Jacob looked at the computer monitor. A blinking, green phrase on the screen read “Transmission successful.” “Yeah, it looks like it worked.” Said Jacob smiling widely. “Really?” asked Harry, looking down at himself. “I don’t feel any different. Don’t tell me this is the improved me and I just don’t remember cos my past changed.” Jacob smirked. “Well the rat took about 10 minutes to see any difference. I noticed the changes so I don’t imagine we wouldn’t notice it happen with you.” He began to finger through a small pile of notes on the machine. “The machine sends messages through junctions in the timeline, which in turn affects the present, and the future, but because we’re making a change that never happened before we basically cause a paradox.” “Can you explain that a bit, I’m not a nerd.” Said Harry, rolling his eyes for effect. “Ok, so there’s a timeline where everything happened normally, which brought you to this point where you made the decision to change your past. Since you changed your past, when you got to this point in your life there’d never be a reason to make that change since it already happened, meaning your past WOULDN’T be changed, and would happen normally.” Harry just looked confused again. “Ok, so in order for you to both make the decision, and not make the decision, you basically have two distinct pasts now. Both have to exist for the other to make any sense.” He drew on the white board again, drawing a line that split in two, and then rejoined, like a river splitting and then coming together again. “As far as I can tell, there’s no reason it shouldn’t work out just fine, in the grand scheme of things.” Jacob looked back at Harry, only to see he was barely paying attention. Harry’s hand was scratching at his chest. As Jacob watched he saw that it was less the way you would scratch an itch, and more the way you would rub a sore muscle, almost massage-like. “Something feels weird.” Said Harry. He took the helmet with all its sensors off his head and got up from the chair. “It’s like, lik- AH!” he said jerking his head back. “Like something’s moving under my skin.” Jacob got up to get a closer look. “Take your shirt off, let me see what’s happening, something could be wrong.” Harry started to pull his t-shirt upward. As it got up to his chest the material grew tight and was fighting being pulled from his skin. “Ow, Jesus, it’s so tight!” Harry protested. “I can’t get it off. As he let go of the hem, Jacob saw the problem. The material was stretched impossibly tight over Harry’s chest, because his chest was getting larger. He watched as what was once a thin, tight chest ballooned into dense, meaty pecs. Two wide, rounded lumps grew in front of Jacob’s eyes as Harry’s nipples grew from almost 2D into thick, swollen tits, and then started to push downwards as the expanding flesh above them continued to grow. There was a harsh crack, and Jacob looked up to see the collar of Harry’s t-shirt had given way. The red material was moving steadily to the sides, accompanied by a loud ripping noise as the split spread downwards. In seconds, Harry’s chest was bare. His pale chest was immense, somehow seeming even bigger now that it was uncovered. A deep crevasse ran between the two huge slabs of muscle, each with a half inch-long tit neatly sitting under it. As the rip continued downwards, Jacob’s eyes followed, and to his amazement he watches as Harry’s stomach contorted and flexed, bringing forth two, then four, then six, then eight spectacular abs. Each was big enough that Jacob could’ve fit his hand around one just barely, and they sat perfectly symmetrically down Harry’s front. The bottom of the shirt gave way, and as it fell to the sides, shredded obliques were revealed below ribs, revealed by the complete lack of body fat. Harry, still somewhat dazed, grabbed at the two sides of the shirt hanging off him and tugged. In one swift motion the sleeves of the tattered garment were obliterated, revealing still swelling delts. Each looked to be in competition with his head for size, but had deep striations that looked to go almost to the bone. Harry roared in approval, raising his arms in a double bicep pose which started unimpressively, but pure muscle rocketed down his arms, twisting into colossal football-sized biceps, and equally impressive triceps. Veins twisted and wrapped around the surface looking like a spider’s web, but as thick as a normal person’s fingers. His forearms broadened until they could be confused for a whole ham. Jacob, both enthralled by the success of the experiment, and enamoured by the changed he was seeing in front of him, reached forwards to fumble with Harry’s belt. A huge meaty paw pushed aside his smaller, fragile hand and grasped at the buckle with seemed to shatter in his grip. As his belt pulled away, his jeans started to drop to the floor, but were caught quickly as, even undone, the waistband was significantly narrower than the legs it was trying to slide past. “Oh shit!” Harry let loose, as the denim filled quickly and began to strain. Jacob had never heard a sound like the resounding splintering noise the jeans made as solid, alabaster steel burst out both sides. Harry’s legs looked freakish, they grew enormous, and the contrast with his narrow waist would have been almost laughable if it weren’t so hot. As the legs of his boxer briefs were forced upwards, deep cuts in the muscle were revealed. Each of the quads was thicker than Jacob’s whole torso, and the cuts were so intense he felt drawn to wrap his fingers around the long, thick muscle heads. As far as he could tell Harry wasn’t even flexing, he was just so immense and so shredded that every single fiber was visible through his paper-thin skin. Beneath the quads, teardrop calves clung onto sturdy lower legs, though at this point they were resembling a capital “P” more so than a teardrop. Jacob almost had to step back as the last remains of clothing on the behemoth twitched before him. The bulge in Harry’s too-small boxer briefs began to swell until it looked like an overgrown banana was being restrained by them; every pulsing inch clearly discernible through the stretched fabric as it sat atop two orange-sized balls. He could even see several inches of thick, vascular cock where the waistband was being pulled away from Harry’s abs, by both the new narrowness of his waist, and the weight of the monster restrained there. Jacob looked up at Harry, his mouth open in awe. Harry looked down, but nervously had to take a step back as he couldn’t see Jacob past his new pec shelf. Just moving his head felt strange, as he could feel the vast muscles of his traps reaching up almost as high as his ears twitching against his thick neck to move. He reached an arm up to feel his neck, and was surprised to meet resistance as his biceps collided with his pecs, limiting movement. Touching his neck he found that it was as thick as his own head, maybe even an inch or two thicker. “Holy fuck.” He said, to Jacob, his voice multiple octaves deeper than it had been, minutes ago. “I mean… holy fuck.” Jacob could barely think, and only managed a few astonished words. “All that from ‘I love working out in the gym?’”
  12. MuscleLoverMG

    The AntiHero

    This is my first story I've ever posted on here! Let me know what you think and what you think I could improve as I move forward with writing this! If you have an suggestions on where the story should go, don't be scared to leave those too! I'm still brainstorming where this might go! The AntiHero Chapter 1: Frankie no more... Frankie was just your ordinary lad. He wasn’t too muscular, not too athletic, and not at all coordinated. In fact the only thing he had going for him was his devilishly handsome face and his charming grin. Other than that Frankie was the definition of average at best. This was a big difference compared to Quinn, Frankie’s longtime rival who consistently one-upped everything Frankie tried to do. Quinn was a lad’s lad. He had the good looks, fit body, and boyish charm to get any girl swooning. He knew it too. Quinn exuded confidence and always walked around like his shit didn’t stink. He’d consistently take sexy shirtless selfies with a seductive grin for his Instagram and other socials. Day by day, Frankie could do nothing but watch his rival get all the attention and praise. Frankie was sick of living as the “average at best” kinda guy. But he didn’t know how to change it. For months he went to bed wishing every night that something would change. That he could become the better man. A real “man” among the “men”, if you know what I mean. Halloween was quickly approaching, and for once Frankie wished he could be the hunk at the costume party that was strutting around in a seductive getup. But alas, once again it would be Quinn who would most likely come dressed up as some sexy superhero, a spartan warrior, or a chippendale dancer. At least…. this is how it was supposed to be. But sometimes plans change and people change too. In fact, Frankie’s wishes may just be coming true after so many months of hope. Soon he’ll be this “man” among the men. And soon he’ll be the one strutting around the costume party in a sexy head turning getup. It was on Halloween morning when the mysterious package that would do all this arrived at Frankie’s door. Frankie was sitting and watching TV just like he does any other day, when the doorbell rang. He wasn’t expecting anyone or anything, so he was quite off-put when he opened the door to a package at his feet. He looked around for a few moments before picking up the box and bringing it inside. “Maybe it was dropped at the wrong address” Frankie thought. But alas, his name and address was on the box. Curiously, Frankie began slicing open the taped up edges with a box cutter. “I wonder what’s inside” he pondered under his breath. As he flipped open the cardboard lids, Frankie was not only taken back by what he saw, but also beginning to feel a pit of rage in his gut. “Fucking Quinn’s such an asshole” Frankie snarled through gritted teeth as he pulled out the contents. He held up what looked like a military vest and then threw it aside. His face became redder and redder as he went in for the second item in the box. He wrapped his hands around the leather straps and metallic clasps. He instantly knew what this was. “The prick thought it would be funny to get me a bane costume.” Knowing it would look awful on his slim frame, Frankie was infuriated and humiliated at the same time. There was no way he could go to the costume party now. “I bet Quinn is probably gonna wear the same costume too, just to show me up” Frankie internally sulked. He threw the mask aside, not noticing the note that was sitting at the bottom of the box. Hours passed as Frankie sat defeated, stuffing his face with junk food. The annual Halloween party was in just 45 minutes, so at this point Frankie couldn’t even think about getting another costume ready. He felt every negative emotion in the book. He was ashamed with his physical form, but also loathed the fact he was gonna miss the opportunity to attend this event. That’s when something strange happened. His phone began buzzing to a mysterious text from an unknown number. “Put the mask on Frankie, we will be one soon. Just be patient.” “What the fuck is this shit. Is he really texting me from a fake number now?” Frankie growled. “You know what fuck Quinn. I’m going to go to the party dressed as bane and be perfectly confident. That will show him.” Frankie stormed over to the box and grabbed the mask. He began to pull it over his head, and it immediately fit quite snugly around his jaw. As Frankie squeezed the mask over the back of his head, he felt a several slight stings, almost as if he was being pricked by several needles in the back of his skull. “Must just be my hair getting caught” he thought to himself. But Frankie was quite wrong. The second Frankie put the mask on, his fate was sealed and forever changed. Almost immediately, Frankie began to feel an enormous amount of pressure in the back of his head and temples. At first he thought he was going to pass out, but this sensation was quite different. Frankie felt buzzed, and quite energized. Without warning, the pain began shooting down his spine and then out towards his lats. As the pain wrapped itself around his rib cage, Frankie could feel a heat flooding his body. It went down each arm into the fingertips, through his legs, and even into his groin. “What the fuck is happening to me!” Frankie squealed in a high pitch scream of terror. He grabbed the back of the mask and attempt to pry it off his scalp, but it was just too tight. Even more, it felt like the back of the mask was latched inside his skin where the pinching feeling was felt. The pain was rapidly increasing and that’s when it began… Frankie heard a loud crack as an unbearable pain shot down his spine. He let out a blood curdling scream as his spine began stretching his frame taller. “No! Make it stop, please!” Frankie whimpered as he fell on his hands and knees to the floor. “I don’t want this anymore!” He slammed his hands into the floorboards as the unbearable pain shot to his lats and ribcage which began cracking and spreading wider apart. To Frankie’s surprise, his hit caused the wooden board to crack and splinter. “So fucking strong” Frankie moaned animalistically. There was an evil gleam in his eye for a second, but he quickly snapped out of it. “No! Did I just fucking do that.” He winced. “This isn’t me. I’m a gentle guy.” He sat on those words for a few seconds before beginning to snicker to himself. “I’m not gentle. I’m fucking powerful and dominant” he growled sadistically. As he said this, the pain moved into his chest and biceps. Interestingly, the pain wasn’t bothering Frankie as much. He actually liked how it was beginning to feel. Every second he was feeling more and more manly. More authoritative. More godly. Frankie snapped back into reality when he saw the veins in his forearms begin to plump. As they pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, they grew green in color and began to push against his tightening skin. Frankie watched in horror as his forearms and biceps grew thick and solid. A spider web of veins entangling around them. With his voice trembling, he whimpered “please no more!” He stood up and once again tried to rip the mask off. Despite his arms being much stronger, the mask still wouldn’t un-latch itself from the back of his skull. Frankie was beginning to feel angrier than ever. But with this anger came a feeling of power and an even greater desire for more power. He began puffing his chest out, giving his pecs room to expand into big, veiny globs full of muscle sinews. Frankie’s Black T-shirt was stretching to its limits. Any onlooker would have just assumed he was wearing an athletic compression shirt if they didn’t know it was once quite loose fitting on his frame. “Fuck this feels so good” Frankie growled while throwing his head back, letting his pecs and lats extend to their full size. At this moment, his shirt snapped open and slid off his arms. In one swift motion Frankie threw his fist at the wall, creating a crumbling crater in the cement and wood barrier. Frankie cackled and sneered a cocky grin. Frankie moved to a nearby mirror to see the god... - I mean “man” - he was turning into. Upon seeing his reflection the real Frankie suddenly came back. “No! This isn’t who I’m supposed to be. This is a monster. I’m not…” He stopped talking, transfixed on his expanding legs, which he now didn’t even notice were in a great deal of pain. In a deeper octave than just seconds ago he muttered “I AM a monster.” The hulking beast emphasized the word AM. As the last of the masks venom spread through his body, Frankie let out a guttural and baritone growl raising his biceps into a double bicep pose. “Fuck ya! I am a monster! I am fucking bane!” Bane felt an instant urge to use his strength… to break something. The first thing that came to mind was the couch his former self was sulking on all night. With a single hand he lifted the 900lb object over his head. “I’m so strong... So powerful. This feels fucking fantastic!” As he said this, Frankie… -I mean Bane - brought the couch down onto his knee, cracking it in two. He no longer feared the beast he was becoming. In fact inside little Frankie was beginning to lose himself to the power that he felt. He loved that he had become an inhumanly strong god among men. He loved that his muscles were absolutely bulging with striations and chiseled beyond belief. And most of all, he loved that he was going to show Quinn what a real “man” is supposed to be. Frankie grabbed the vest that was sitting in the box and tried to strap it over his shirtless torso, but there was no way it was going to fit. “Fuck it, I look better shirtless anyway” he snarled. Then he noticed the note sitting in the bottom of the box. He picked it up and read it aloud with his dense, baritone voice. “Frankie, I’ve chosen you to become the next King of our beings. Just put on the mask and you will be Bane. Attend the party as Bane and I will find you. Then we’ll merge and become strong enough to rule this world and force everyone to bow to our power! I know you want this Frankie. You always have, so just put on the mask.” The note was signed “Venom.” Bane’s bloodthirsty growl said it all. Deep down, the last bit of the innocent Frankie faded. “You’re right Venom. I was born to be a fucking god! I may have been Frankie, but from now on my worshipers will know me only as Bane!!!!” And with that… little Frankie was no more.
  13. DanMan2020

    The Olympian chronicles: Ivan

    Hi everyone. First time poster here. My story is inspired by works like "A is for Alpha and Antoine" by Londonboy, "The man who saved me" by Guest(?), and "My roommate is a god" by Omnipotence. Like them I am a lover of super powerful, super muscle men. I'm going to try and upload a chapter or two every weekend. A lot of world building is going to go into this. Hope everyone enjoys! The Olympian chronicles: Ivan Chapter 1: Who I am… The air felt good on my bare torso as I flew through the sky. The feel of the wind as it whipped over my magnificent physique: bulbous pecs, titanium abs (six-pack), concrete biceps and triceps, and a back that rippled with muscular curvature. Complemented by light coating of vascularity here and there. Overall I looked like a being the Greek Gods themselves would’ve aspired to be. I came to a rest about thirty thousand feet above my home suburb. My superhuman vision able to see the ground below in perfect detail. Not one square inch I couldn’t easily make out. I simply hovered there. I continued to enjoy the air as it now brushed lightly on my impenetrable skin. I closed my eyes and felt the power that coursed through me, and marvelled at how only a month ago I was human. I opened my eyes and observed the setting sun in the distance. I looked down to see how it illuminated my spectacular body. Every part of me was muscle. Every part of me huge, strong, defined, beautiful, and blemish-free. Always clean, always perfectly groomed, and always with a light tan that only accentuated the curves and solidness of the muscles. I am Ivan, and I am an Olympian. So what is an Olympian exactly? Nobody knows what causes the phenomenon, nor why it ever began in the first place. But Olympians were a part of our reality, and have been so for the last one-hundred and seventy-nine years. Almost every year, without any prior warning, one to four young men (usually one or two, rarely more) will, upon turning twenty, suddenly and dramatically change. In the space of just a few seconds they will, regardless of prior body-type or lifestyle, suddenly transform into massive, immaculate, beautiful, and flawless bodybuilders on the spot. And if that wasn’t enough, they will also possess a plethora of superhuman abilities that extend far beyond what even the likes of Superman, Thor, or even Dr. Manhattan could ever dream of having. To name BUT A FEW: · Superhuman strength (to the point of moving planets effortlessly) · Invulnerability (to date, there is no known way of harming an Olympian) · Superhuman speed (beyond the speed of light of course) · Superhuman senses (all senses) · Superhuman agility, reflexes, coordination, and muscle control · Flight · Heat vision · X-ray vision · Freeze breath (and the ability to blow gale-force winds with ease) · Telekinesis (which breaks down into loads of additional abilities) · Telepathy Again, nobody knows why this happens; it just does. Oh, and before I forget, yes: Olympians are also immortal. The first ones to appear are still looking as though they are twenty years old, despite almost pushing two hundred! Naturally I didn’t take long for the humans who stayed being human to realise that there were now all-powerful, unstoppable gods walking amongst them. Thankfully for them, all Olympians to date have proven to be kind, just, and principled in a positive way. And so, since the dawn of Olympians, human civilisation all over has changed dramatically. The life of a human now revolves around worshipping Olympians, along with living an otherwise normal day-to-day life. But more on that later. So anyway, I’m Ivan. And one month ago to the day I transformed into an Olympian. One second I was an ordinary, unremarkable college student in the middle of a college lecture on psychology, and the next minute I was floating in mid-air above my fellow classmates with a physique that the world’s top bodybuilders spend their whole lives trying to achieve. All around me my classmates, along with the professor, all immediately dropped to their knees and began to bow to me. They fervently whispered prayers, while those closest to me reached for my hover feet and diamond calves in the hopes of being able to feel them. This was followed by every man in the hall pulling out an erect cock and jerking off to the sight of me, while every woman reached a few fingers down their underwear. Overwhelmed, I clumsily shot upwards through the roof and out into the sky. I was a bit panicked by being up so high, and so when I tried to land I ended up creating a crater in the middle of campus. Thankfully no one was hurt. I was also completely naked, as my clothes had been shredded by my rapidly expanding body during the transformation. Once again, every human who could see me began kneeling, bowing, jerking off, fingering themselves, and in general crying out how amazing I was; all because I was an Olympian. Fast forward a month, and here I am levitating thousands of feet above my home. I had largely taught myself how to control most of my main abilities, like flight and strength. I had also given up on wearing clothes for the most part. I was wearing boxer shorts and jeans at the moment, but other than that, I couldn’t find tops that would fit me. Not that it was a problem; Olympians were allowed to be naked in public if they wanted to be. The one change that I was struggling with was how people reacted to me. It’s too much to take in quickly. One minute you’re a scrawny, nerdy, weak little man who’s never played sport, and is still a virgin. The suddenly people are actually bowing to you. Total strangers and people you’ve known your whole life now kneel when you enter a room, or walk (or float) by them on the street. You’re walking around without a shirt, fully aware of it, yet now you have a physique like Arnold or Ronnie Coleman, and not a skinny, acne-covered torso and stick-arms. Now you’re handsome beyond description, and not well below average. People are openly pleasuring themselves to your image, in front of you, and because it’s law no less! It’s just…a lot to come to terms with. I began my descent and soon landed gently in the back garden. Certainly a lot better than the first time I landed here. Let’s just say my dad had to hire a landscaping company to fix the damage. I still live with my dad by the way. He’s been so supportive of me throughout all of this. All the while trying not to give in to his “mortal instincts”. Which is a term used to describe every human’s inherent desire to worship Olympians. “Dad, I’m home” I say, as I close the sliding door behind me. My big bare feet pat loudly as I walk across the tiled floor of the kitchen. I have to keep ducking down as I walk through doorways. 5’7’’ to 6’8’’ is quite the difference. I find my dad in the living room, already kneeling. No doubt doing so the second he heard my voice. “Come on dad, you don’t have to do that. Not for me” I say, feeling a little embarrassed by his display of reverence. “Of course son” says my dad, hastily getting to his feet, “whatever you say”. He’s smiling, somewhat nervously, and constantly looking back and forth over my body, trying to pick a muscle group to settle on. He’s still just standing there. “You can go about your business” I say, “I just came in to say hi. I’m going up to my room for a bit”. “Of…of course” says Dad, “Is there anything you want me to do?” he asks. He nods enthusiastically, excited at the idea of being able to directly obey an Olympian, even if it’s his own son. “Nope. Just go back to whatever it was you were doing”, I say, trying to smile sweetly at him, and ignore the absurdity of the situation. And with that I quickly leave the room. At speeds that no human could ever hope to move at, I shot from the living room to my bedroom upstairs. I promptly took off my jeans and stood there in just my boxers, enjoying the coolness that now caressed my muscular legs. I turned my attention to my full-body dressing mirror and decided to treat myself to another posing show. BOOM! Biceps that easily exceed thirty inched, with a proud vein on each that rested on them like crowns. And my pecs! Hello!!! Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce. Up and down they went in turn. The entire rest of my being as still as a statue while my magnificent pecs bounced, vibrated, and jiggled in exquisite detail. I stopped the bounce and flexed them both. Their size expanded, and they looked far more like two massive slabs of concrete. I raised my arms again so as to admire my lats and obliques; still in disbelief that I actually had those muscles. On me! On my body! And that’s not to mention the abs. Oh my Olympian! My abs. Like six cobble-stones that made steel feel soft by comparison. I only just managed to master the art of rolling my abs, making waves glide up or down. One minute I could contort them and mush them about by flexing alone, and the next I could tense them into a wall of pure power and strength. Next up were my legs. Quads of the gods, as I liked to call them. Even when I wasn’t tensing or flexing they were still formidably rock-solid. I liked to run my fingers over them, just to feel the different ridges and boundaries of muscle. Next I turned my attention to my calves. Diamonds by shape, yet so much harder, and so much stronger. I shoved an SUV the other day with my foot, and the corresponding calve generated enough power to send it sailing out towards the horizon. I was only trying to dislodge if from a ditch the driver had accidently driven it into. Amusingly though, he wasn’t mad. He immediately bowed and thanked me for displaying my strength to him. He cried for joy when he asked to touch my calves and I said yes. I can still feel his delicate little finger tips tracing lines on them. He came a few times without either of us ever touching his dick. I left him after that. I…I’m not ready to be a god to people just yet. The thought robbed me of my enthusiasm for more flexing. Instead I slumped down onto my bed. This is my life now. This is who I’m going to be. I should be happier (which I am when I’m flexing for myself, jerking off with my new 10’’ cock, or effortlessly curling train engines), but the thought of ruling humans, and being celebrated as superior is still…I don’t know. It’s a big change. There was a knock at the door. “Come in” I said. I telekinetically opened the door to find Dad standing in a somewhat cowered position on the other side. Telekinesis was weird. It’s like I could feel the door with my brain. “Hi son” he said, in a polite tone and with a nervous smile. I knew he had only come up here so that he could be around me, look at me more, and maybe even touch me if I allowed it. It was instinctual in humans to want to worship Olympians and be close to them. Not to mention obey them without question. “Hey Dad, what’s up?” I said, smiling sweetly at him, trying to put him at ease. “Just came to see how my big man is! What did you get up to today?” he said, and kneeled down in front of me while trying to maintain eye contact and not look at some other part of me. I doubt he even noticed that he kneeled. “Not much. Just flew around the city a few times. I really want to perfect my flight power before travelling any farther” I said. Dad nodded energetically, with his mouth hanging open a little. It was kind of amusing. “Well I know you don’t need to eat anymore, but the…eh…the dinner will be there…I mean ready, in a few minutes, if you want…you know” he said, struggling to maintain composure around his literal god of a son. “Great!” I said, smiling all the while to keep the atmosphere friendly. A minute of silence passed. Dad was still kneeling, now looking down at my feet. I rolled my eyes. “Dad” I said. He immediately looked up at my face. “Do you want to…touch my muscles?” I said, weirded out by the thought. Of course, Dad wasn’t. As a human he couldn’t think clearly in the presence of an Olympian. “Yes! Oh yes please son! You are so…so incredibly beautiful now!” he said suddenly, and began running a hand across my pecs. “Wow! So powerful” he whispered, as he examined the finer details of my godly chest. He poked them, trying to make a dent, but to no avail. I have to admit: I liked seeing him so happy. I bounced my pecs a little for him, and he ended up drooling a small bit. I chuckled. “Alright” I said, standing up and towering over him. He gulped at the sight of me, and whimpered a small bit too. “Dinner time” I said, indicating that it was alright for him to stand up too. He did so, but still only came up to the base of my pecs. I patted him gently on the head. “I love you Dad, no matter what I’ve become” I said, trying to get some of that pre-Olympian father-son relationship back. “I love you too son” he said, looking up past my pecs at me. “And I’m so proud of what you’ve become. I look forward to seeing an even more powerful version of you when you return from Mercury after god-school” he said. Oh, that’s right. I forgot to mention. All newly born Olympians are expected to attend “god-school” on the planet Mercury for a few months, after which they will have developed to their fullest potential. Basically, the way I am now doesn’t even measure up to the level of power I’ll have in a few months. I am expected to begin god-school in a few days. It is decreed by one of the laws of David, the first Olympian. Who’s he? Right, there’s still so much about this version of reality that you don’t know…
  14. Hulk el adolescente cachondo parte 2 una masturbación placentera *I feel this story is a bit short but in the third chapter I will make it much longer and more detailed* alex jhonson un chico guapo pero a la vez un poco nerd con cabello castaño y ojos azules pero usa lentes lo cual no le ayudaria mucho tiene una figura delgada el cual siempre ha tenido problemas de ansiedad y tenor pero a la vez esta demasiado cachondo cualquier cosa que veas de hombres desnudos sus pectorales y su culo y lo más importante su polla este tipo se convierte en una bestia bastante temible, hermosa y muy musculosa llamándose a sí mismo "hulk" ante todos... Recién sucedió esa noche cuando se transformó por primera vez, desde que estupeó en una videollamada" alex-hulk estaba corriendo en el bosque destruyendo los pinos y árboles grandes que se interponían en su camino fácilmente los rompió fácilmente sin rasguños aunque algo sucio, corriendo en toda la tierra bastante rocosa y húmeda con sus enormes pies verdes y dedos llenos de polvo se detuvo a ver un hermoso paisaje con una gran cascada y un hermoso cielo esa noche Alex-hulk se asombró y se detuvo a ver la hermosa luna gamma, la cual para agradecerle su destino comenzó a darle un fuerte rugido Alex-hulk: ROOOAAAAAARRGGGG !! (un grito bastante poderoso asustando a los animales y pájaros) Alex-Hulk ve su polla y con ganas de follar empieza a manosearse salvajemente, tocando sus sucios y embarrados pechos musculosos pero no le importa Pero lo que importa es tocarse y la mano derecha agarra su enorme polla verde y rápidamente la masajea y hacia abajo varias veces. Alex-hulk: AGHHH...mmmmmj..SI...VAMOS A LA MIERDA (gemidos y palabras sucias de Alex-hulk) su cuerpo comienza a crecer un poco más haciendo que sus músculos sean más perfectos sus pantorrillas más voluminosas y sus bíceps más fuertes haciendo que alex hulk crezca hasta la medida de unos 3 metros de altura alcanzando su altura máxima de la bestia Alex-hulk hulk aún no le importaba su de altura pero empieza a explotar demasiada leche fertil y verde, Alex-hulk sigue agarrando y levantando mas fuerte su pene trata de parar pero es inutil su orgasmo crece mas y mas que se puso a cuatro patas y apunto de eyacular dice.. . Alex-hulk: HULK... ¡¡¡COÑOS!!! (grito liberal y gemido con una voz demasiado grave) Alex-hulk eyacula lo suficiente que su pene comienza a perder el control y se corre incluso en las paredes y en el piso, eyaculando demasiado, Alex-hulk gime de placer y agarra su pene para tragar su semen el cual esta mas descontrolado y todo su cuerpo se tiñe de verde, a lo cual cae aliviado en el piso con todo el semen derramado, su pene comienza a terminar de sacar leche y deja de palpitar, hulk alex muy cansado y acostado toma la decision de dormir y descansar después de una masturbación muy placentera, aunque olía demasiado a semen, a ella no le importó mucho y aún en la oscuridad, en la noche con un fuerte frío y una tormenta de lluvia, todavía estaba caliente... 8:30 de la mañana el amanecer... que le duelen mucho los ojos pero no mucho es normal que una persona que se levanta temprano camine algo dolorida sin poder caminar derecho, bajando de la cueva y buscando un camino oh chosa para buscar alguna ayuda oh refugio. .. continuará...
  15. Hey guys, this is just a short story (?) idea i had in mind, so i decided to write it down, hope you guys will like it! Hey guys, im new to the sub, but i thought about a thing i've been seeing recently. Im a super young gay guy who's still a teenager and i've seen that recently a lot of gay guys have started going to the gym and a lot. Why is everybody getting so huge? It's crazy, i've never seen such a epidemic of massive muscled guy ever before, if you see somebody who completely dwarfs all the other guys and looks like a giant you're almost certainly sure he's gay. I have this uncle, he's at the end of his 20s and so far he's always been feminine and on the fat side but recently he started going to the gym, in a matter of a year or two he gained 8 pack abs and 20 inches biceps, he started loving the gym as he's closed himself in it and he does want to get much bigger. He started eating like a pig, getting richer, taller, adjusting his looks and now hes just an adonis. But he's not the only one, i've been to a gay bar recently and when i got in i was surrounded by a multitude of gigantic men, some even bigger than pro-bodybuilders and much much taller than me, what's happening to the gay scene, why is everybody getting so big that they completely dwarf straight men? I heard on the news recently of this upcoming bodybuilder that's concurring for mister olympia that 's way bigger than all the bodybuilders of the past. He's almost 3 meters tall and has incredible 27 inches biceps. He looks like one of those morphed guy but in reality. And guess what? Turns out he's gay! Even the not that muscular guys are way bigger than you, it's crazy. What do you gay guys eat? Im finding out that being as big as a pro-bodybuilder now is a starting point. Why is everybody getting so muscular and manly? I did meet up with a man i found on grindr, he had just a photo of his face and seemed so goodlooking. What i found was a well over 2 meters tall giant that had biceps that were as big as 2 times my head, he was looking at me like i was a steak, i decided to run away cause i was too scared. I'm starting to feel like an ant when searching for a boyfriend. Everybody seems to be so powerful, and not only in the strenght department, they are getting extremely intelligent and rich. Then i thought muscular gays were only into muscular gays but i'm a twink and my grindr it's been flooding with huge guys tapping me and wanting to know me. I'm so scared of big guys! Can please somebody please explain this?
  16. Florida20

    The Chest

    As stated in another post, I've been asked to upload some of the stories I wrote for the old site. The one below was the first story I ever wrote...I may have been 17 or 18 at the time...and I could only find the first four chapters. It ultimately had 14 or so if I remember correctly but the forth chapter ends at a pretty nice spot so I figured a partial story was better than none at all. The other chapters are on the legacy site; I'll post them if I can get around to digging them up. CHAPTER I: THE JOURNEY THE SUN was just reaching its midday peak. Tyson, shirtless as usual, was taking the hard way up the hillside and climbing up a rocky crag while Jason lumbered up the leaf covered path to the side. Jason couldn’t help but notice the muscle rippling under Tyson’s tan back. “Showoff” was all he could mutter. The two made an odd friendship but then again, middle school doesn’t see the segregation of cliques quite the way high school does. Both fourteen and days out of eight grade, Tyson and Jason had been friends since kindergarten even if it was apparent even then that they were destined for different futures. Tyson, then and especially now, visually screamed the word jock. He had featured a six-pack from the womb it seemed and throughout his life had never had a drop of fat on him. He was your standard muscle-kid: not thick but shredded enough to show every line of muscle that was roped on his frame. Tyson knew that description would be ending soon; over the last few months he had noticed Tyson beginning to thicken out. Although still thin in adult terms at 155 lb and 5’10, the telltale signs were there. His lats had begun to expand out when he strained them. Striations could be seen in his chest and back and his arms had begun to expand from their circular baseball shape to a more adult football shape. His body was begging to grow and beginning to get its wish. These changes had just begun and would be hard to notice at a casual glance but Jason knew his friend and couldn’t help feel a little helpless. Jason was the opposite of Tyson. A little shorter at 5’8, he weighed a good eighty pounds more and all of it was fat as far as Jason was concerned. A portly child from a portly family, he had accepted his fate as being the cliché chunky, fat kid. He was active. In fact, he did almost everything with Tyson and he extended energy as much as anyone did. That made it worse, for Jason’s physique was not for lack of trying to change it. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt that made his arms look like upside down bowling pins for their lack of definition and pale coloring. His gut hung over the top of his shorts and sweat stains made a nice outline of what his less-than-friends called breasts. Jason seemed to be the only one of the pair who secretly assumed that high school would separate the two of them; he would join the chess club while Tyson became the star quarterback. In spite of himself, Jason smiled, for the time being he did have a great friend and had no real reason to feel sorry for himself. “Don’t be hating, Jason, just tell me how awesome I am and hurry up.” He turned around. The overhead sun shined on Tyson, shading his body in vertical contrast and making him look larger that he really was. His pecs and abs cast shadows on the creases of his torso all the way down to the slight ‘V’ that tapered into his low hanging basketball shorts. While he patiently waited for his friend, Tyson began flexing his forearms. Jason wasn’t the only one who noticed Tyson’s growth spurt. “Just taking the scenic route,” Jason said. The two of them were doing what they had done each summer since elementary school: exploring the seemingly endless wilderness behind Jason’s house. As far as any map insinuated, the woods were endless. There wasn’t a city or road to speak of in what was labeled as a government preserve, whatever that meant. Jason’s father said it had been such since after World War II. The two continued their aimless quest deeper into the woods and the sun continued past its zenith and began to descent. They went through the lunch they packed themselves and lost track of time until mid-afternoon when Jason’s stomach started requesting more. “Ready to turn back, Ty?” Jason asked through his panting. Tyson turned around, looking at his watch, and his eyebrows rose. “Wow, we’ve been out here for eight hours. That’s got to be a record.” “Eight hours!?” Jason exclaimed. “That’s was in a straight line, man! It’ll take us just as long to get home.” “Relax, Jason,” Tyson said in his carefree way. “It’s all down hill anyway and—What’s that?” Tyson looked past Jason’s shoulder towards a flatter spread of forest. “What’s what?” Jason turned and saw a chain link fence that stretched off to the distance until hidden by hill or forest. “A fence? Out here? Looks old.” The fence was completely brown with rust and in many parts was at an angle other than ninety degrees from the ground. The two walked up to an aged aluminum sign hanging on a section of the fence. Without the sign, the boys would have missed the fence completely since it blended so well with the wooded background. They had to strain to read the sign since most of the lettering was faded: WARNING Government Research Installation Trespassers will be Prosecuted !DANGER! Fence energized with 10,000 Volts DO NOT TOUCH “Well that’s inviting,” Tyson chuckled as Jason reached for the fence. “Don’t touch that, you jackass, you’ll—“ He was cut off as Jason touched the fence and screamed at the top of his lungs, shaking from head to foot. Panic stricken, Tyson began screaming too and began setting up to tackle Jason away from the fence just as Jason’s scream transformed into laughter and he let go of the fence. Panic turning into anger, Tyson charged and tackled his still laughing friend to the ground anyway. “You fucker! I had images of having to drag your ass all the way home.” Tyson, fending off his friend’s punches as best as he could, continued to chuckle. “I don’t care how buff you’re getting, you couldn’t drag my fat ass a quarter mile before passing out.” “True, so I’d just have to heave you into a tree and hope the bears didn’t snack on your corpse, you ass.” “Whatever. That fence is a shove away from turning into dust. You thought it was actually still electrified?” He started laughing again. Throwing one more punch in the gut that cut Jason’s laughter off with a grunt, Tyson got off of his friend and helped him up. While Jason brushed the leaves off his sweat soaked shirt, Tyson walked over to the fence and did give it one solid shove. The fence broke off its stabilizing beam and fell to the ground with a clang. “Looks like a door to me,” he said and stepped into the recently forbidden territory. Feeling that sense of adventure that only young teenagers feel, Jason followed, careless of the sun continuing its journey to the horizon. CHAPTER II: THE DISCOVERY At first their misdemeanor appeared to be about as exciting as two rocks facing each other. The world behind the fence was the same as the one they left: trees, foliage, and rocky hills. After about fifteen minutes, Jason’s hunger began to signal his sense that they should begin their return home. He was just about to voice it when they both saw the clearing. Once passed the trees, they stopped and stared at the stretch of seemingly abandoned buildings that clustered together at the end of an uncared-for road that ran off into the forest. Whatever the maps said, there apparently was once humanity here. The boys looked at each other and with sparkling eyes started off to the buildings. The structures were anything but permanent. Perhaps five large steel buildings made up the ghost village, most missing windows. They went in and out of them at random. One building held what was once dozens of beds lining the wall. Another may have been a kitchen once. Another may have been an exercise room discernable only by what might have been a basketball court. The entire place had ancient junk strewn about. Here an old comb, there a clipboard. The place looked as if the occupants left in a hurry. The largest building was the last they came to. It was more sturdy but still in major disrepair. It also differed from its neighbors in that its now glass-absent windows were fortified with bars and the front door had a lock that had since rusted to a solid lump of brown. Not one to allow anything to get in his way, Tyson grabbed the lump and began twisting. The muscles on his back once again began to dance. The striations in his shoulders made waves across his skin and the veins in his chest began to stand out as he flexed every muscle in his torso in a vain attempt to get the lock off. Regardless of the display, Jason knew his friend’s efforts were useless. Rusty steel was still steel and that lock was one of the few things in this area built to last. After another few minutes, Tyson released the lock, gasping for breath. “It’s useless, man, that lock is on there pretty--” A crash cut Tyson off. He looked at its source where Jason stood about 10 feet away, smiling; the bars that once covered one of the windows lying at his feet in a cloud of dust. “A half-inch bolt rusts much faster than a three inch lock, Ty,” Jason lectured. “Who’s the showoff now?” Tyson snorted as he lifted him self up into and through the gaping hole without another word. Jason followed right behind. The sun was at an angle now where it cast its fading light directly into the building. The disarray was magnified here. Everywhere lay what looked to be science equipment: broken vials, dusty stools, splintered desks, and translucent goggles scattered at random in the large room. It was like the people here left with the fear of god in them. Tyson began rummaging in the back corner where it appeared a makeshift vault had been built into the wall and Jason went over to one of the desks. A manila folder lay on it, making it the only paper either had seen since coming here. On its spine, in letters to faded to make out completely: HU-AN GRO--H INI--ATI-E : MUSC--AR DEVE-OP---T D—ARTMENT Before he could attempt to make out the words, he heard a scream. Turning towards his friend, he saw Tyson grabbing his forearm as a weasel darted across the room. “Fucking rodent!” Tyson moaned as blood started trickling from between his fingers. Jason watched as the animal darted to a hole in the wall and as the sun caught its black leathery tail he gasped. That was no weasel; that was the biggest rat he had ever seen. It had to be the size of a mailbox. He turned to his friend, who was wiping his arm off on his pants. Aside from where a few teeth had punctured his skin, there wasn’t much to see. “You ok?” Jason asked. “Animal bites can get pretty nasty if you don’t treat it.” “It’s fine,” Tyson shrugged, obviously embarrassed he had made anything of it in the first place.” “Dude, I’m serious, we need to get back now.” Tyson looked at him then out the window. “Jason, it’ll be dark in a couple hours. We’re crashing here for the night.” “What?” was all Jason could retort. They argued for a few minutes but in the end Jason knew his friend was right. Walking home under the darkness of night was a good way to break a leg or get lost. He sat down hard on the ground in defeat. At any rate, their adventurous spirit died with the sun. They made a camp of sorts in the vault at the back of the room, Jason falling asleep against a chest shoved in the corner. His last thought was whether or not he’d have to drag a rabies infected friend home in the morning. CHAPTER III: THE BOX Jason awoke to the crackle of a fire. The vault was dark but through the open door he could see Tyson sitting over a fire. He stretched and walked out to his friend. Over the fire was a makeshift spit with what looked to be a dog roasting on it. Closer inspection showed it to be a rabbit, if the largest he’d ever seen. Then again, if rats could get so big in the wild then why not rabbits. Off to Tyson’s side were the bones of at least 2 other rabbits. Another lay ready for the fire nearby. “Where the hell did these come from?” Jason asked in shock. “And how did you gut them? And…” He didn’t really know what to say. Tyson turned around, swallowing a mouthful. “Morning champ. It was the strangest thing; I woke up with my stomach growling something crazy. At first I thought that rat bite got me sick but then I just realized I was jus starving. It got so bad that I had to get up and find…something. It took a while but a few well-thrown rocks was all it took to bring these massive bunnies down. Want one? I got one for you too.” He gestured at the corpse lying next to him. “No thanks, I just lost my appetite.” He sat down across the fire from Tyson. “You feeling ok?” “Actually, I feel great. Like I could run a marathon or push over a tree,” Tyson said as he tore into the third rabbit and got the forth on the fire. Jason’s jaw dropped. If the other rabbits were as big as these two then Tyson was about to devour the equivalent of half a cow. I guess he is feeling fine, Jason thought. He stared at his preoccupied friend across the fire. The light danced across his body, casting shadows over his muscle His shoulders were as striated as ever, completely separated from his biceps. His chest bounced with every moment of his arms and his abs were clearly defined even while sitting down. He must be flexing every muscle in his body, Jason thought. He’s going to be trouble… I’ve never noticed how defined his traps were, either. It was true. A slab of muscle now rose up out of his shoulder and connected halfway up his neck. He almost glowed. After finishing his forth animal, they both got up. Jason had to convince Tyson not to go out for more food. “I don’t care how hungry you still are, there’s plenty of food at my place. Besides, you just ate like thirty pounds of food. Look at your stomach for god’s sake.” Tyson looked down at the now prominent bulge that stretched his abs. “Heh, heh, yeah, I guess I’ve had enough. Weird though, I’m still famished.” “You’ll make it home before wasting away, I promise.” Jason stated as he turned to go. “Wait,” Tyson said. “One more thing.” Jason turned around, exacerbated, as Tyson raced into the vault. After a few grunts and thuds he emerged from the door with the same chest that Jason had fell asleep against. It looked heavy whatever it was. Each yank moved the thing about 2 feet. “What on earth are we going to do with that?” Jason demanded. “Take it home of course,” Tyson said as he continued to drag it to the window. “I tried to get it open in there but it’ll take a screw driver to get that thing open.” “Like hell we are,” Jason snapped back. “The two of us together couldn’t lug that thing a mile. We couldn’t get it through the window.” Tyson stared at the window sitting just at chest level. “If I can get it out of here will you help me the rest of the way?” Jason looked at the window too and smiled. “Sure, but I’m not helping you get it through the window.” Tyson smiled and hoisted himself through the window. Confused, Jason looked out of it to see Tyson run to the door and grab the lock again. He twisted it with all of his might and within a few seconds the lock groaned and gave way, falling to the ground. “Holy shit,” Jason gasped as he ducked back from the window while Tyson kicked the door in. The sun silhouetted his heaving body as he stood smiling. “I never said HOW I was going to get it out.” Now Jason was stuck in a promise he didn’t want to keep. They each grabbed an end and began hauling it the long track home. The chest must have been made of lead; it may have weighed over two hundred pounds. Not like Jason had much to go by. He wasn’t much of a weight lifter. Tyson did most of the work. He took most of the weight as they trudged down the hills. “Man, look at this pump,” Tyson commented on his own body during one of Jason’s frequent breaks from the trek. Jason, now also bare from the gut up and using his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, looked at Tyson as he flexed his arm. Pump indeed. His friend flexed a bicep the size of a baseball. Veins protruded from the muscle seemingly pumping with blood. Veins stood out everywhere, seemingly struggling to feed his body. Tyson flexed his chest, making them bounce like Jason had never seen in person. The sides of Tyson’s abs were absolutely shredded. Muscle could be seen clearly, everywhere. What was going on? Tyson’s eyes looked hungry. He put his hand over each muscle as he flexed it; flexed it harder and harder as if willing them to grow more. A they seemed to be doing just that. Jason shook his eyes away and went to pick up his side of the box again. “Let’s just go,” he said with a sigh. Tyson came up and moved him away. “Don’t worry, man, I got it.” And with that he hoisted the chest up and carried it himself. Jason stood there awestruck. There was no way Tyson could have done that this morning. Granted, the chest was still heavy; Tyson labored under its weight as if each step would be his last. All he could do was follow though, and stare at his friend’s back as they worked their way home. The hours rolled by without any conversation. They both knew their way home. Jason was lost in his own thoughts. He kept staring at his friend and his ever-increasing “pump.” He just kept swelling up. The veins snaked across his back and seemed to pulse with blood. His lats began to flare out. His back, constantly under the strain of the chest, swelled out with added layers of muscle. It was covered in rolling bulges; striations forming at his lower back. His traps continued to grow upward. His triceps, which shouldn’t even be feeling any strain, also started to bulge, every muscle defining itself as if he had trained only that muscle for hours a day, months on end. It wasn’t that he was getting massive, he was just nothing but skin and muscle and that skin was stretching to cover his muscle for all it was worth. His calves were shredded as well. They strained and seemed to grow larger with each step. What was going on? Suddenly he noticed that in the two hours they had been walking by in silence, Tyson had not put the chest down once. In fact, he walked as if he were carrying a box of books. He strained, sure, but not nearly as much as he had when he first picked it up hours ago. He couldn’t just stand there anymore. “Tyson, I-” He cut himself off. Tyson turned around and put the chest down effortlessly. Pump nothing; his friend was growing. The veins had died down a bit, as if their job was done. Tyson looked at his body and touched it with both hands. “What’s happening to me?” He turned around and faced Jason, “Holy shit!” Jason blurted out. Tyson was a different person. His biceps were, in a word, huge. No pump could explain it. What had been a baseball was now swollen from his inner elbow to his shoulder. He flexed it and it peaked up a good two inches it seemed. He touched his abs. “Dude! Feel this shit.” Jason couldn’t help himself. His hand immediately went to Tyson’s abs and pulled away just as quickly. “Holy shit” he said again as his hand returned to Tyson’s midsection. It was like touching skin-covered metal. Not in a figurative sense, either. His body was as hard as any substance he had ever touched, covered in bronze skin. His hand, having a mind of its own, moved up to Tyson’s chest. All sinew and mass, they were two heaving slabs of beef. All in all he looked like an anatomic model of skeletal muscle that had skin vacuum-packed around it. He looked strong. Every movement of his body sent Tyson’s muscles dancing. Pulling his pant leg up revealed quads that rivaled a bodybuilder’s; each muscle separated with deep enough grooves to put a finger in. Jason stopped and took his hands away. It was more than he could handle. Tyson was still enthralled with his new physique, his hands all over his new eight pack. “The rat bite,” he said suddenly. “It must have done something to me. And those rabbits. All those animals were huge. What was that place?” “It was a government lab,” Jason answered. “They must have worked on human growth formulas and got shut down somewhere along the line. I guess those animals were decedents of the animals they tested. They—“ Their eyes suddenly went to the chest. “Let’s get home and get that thing open,” Tyson demanded. Jason had no hesitation about complying. CHAPTER IV: THE EXPERIMENT They made their way home in record speed. A quick of his home told Jason that his parents were gone, apparently not worried about their son not returning home the night before as the letter dated for that morning told him his parents were off for a summer vacation for the next few days. How convenient. When he walked back to the porch, he watched as Tyson strained to get the chest open. The miraculous growth had stopped about when they had first commented on it. It made sense; Tyson’s body had absorbed every bit of food he had eaten and even used every shred of what little fat he stored to give him the muscle he had. Question was: Was his body done growing or did it simply need more food? Tyson meanwhile, was grabbing the handle with one hand, the base with the other, and was giving everything he had to try to get the chest open. His body was as tense as iron, every muscle pumped and flexed to its max yet nothing happened. The box was made of steel and so was the lock apparently. And this type didn’t rust. With a last grunt, Tyson violently gave up, kicking the chest with a sigh of rage. He stood up, sweat soaking his taught body, gathering in the channels of his chest, abs and arms and running like rainwater down a window. A simple motion of turning his head even set his neck muscles to work, each one flexing and grinding against another like a pile of snakes. “I’m still hungry” was all he said as he brushed by him and into the house. The next two hours consisted of Tyson consuming every bit of protein in the house, and there was plenty. An obese family of three knew their way through a grocery store. Tyson consumed eight cans of tuna, every pound of hamburger, chicken, steak, and turkey they owned and had even started eating peanuts before he finally felt full. His stomach bloated beneath his boulder-like abs as if he were 8 months pregnant. Hands on the countertop, Tyson stopped to take a breath, then rounded the corner to the bathroom. A quick look inside showed Tyson on the scale, the digital readout displaying 187 pounds. “Holy shit, you’ve eaten 30 pounds of food.” “And twenty of it is still in my stomach,” Tyson said with a possessed gleam in his eyes. “I wonder—Man! I’m tired.” And as if his brain was running solely at the demands of his body, Tyson, clad only in a pair of gym shorts, collapsed on the couch, asleep in seconds. Jason watched his friend lie there for a little while before his grumbling stomach pulled him into the kitchen. He hadn’t eaten since the afternoon before and only just now realized he was famished. He got a good way through a third Hungryman TV dinner before he heard Tyson moan from the couch. Jason scrambled to the couch and saw that his friend’s breathing had quickened and his muscles were twitching. Within 5 minutes, his friend’s veins started swelling in that telltale precursor for growth. They started by just getting bigger, then they began to pump with every beat of his heart. And every beat made his muscles bigger. The bulge in his stomach slowly retreated as the energy inside it transformed him. His muscles involuntarily flexed and twitched as they swelled. His neck strained as it expanded, the cables in his neck expanding. His traps bulged and formed a peak between his neck and shoulder. His arms flexed and relaxed growing to the size of softballs while his triceps, every muscle protruding like it was trying to escape, pushed his arms out the other way. The grooves in his abs grew deeper as the rectangles of muscle that made up what was now a ten-pack pushed out. His lats flared pushing out his arms. The veins continued to pulse as they snaked their way down beneath his shorts and to his legs. His quads rolled in a never-ending battle as one set of muscle tried to grow over another. His calves looked perpetually flexed, shaped like diamonds and probably as hard. Tyson moaned in his sleep and his hand went to his crotch. That was when Jason noticed there was another bulge he had yet to see. His friends cock looked like it was already erect but when his sleeping buddy unconsciously adjusted to give it room he noticed that it was flaccid and probably over seven inches long. Suddenly Tyson’s eyes groggily opened and he sat up, stretching. The movement sent his body rolling as the brand new muscle moved for the first time. He stood up, eyes fixated on the chest, walked over to the chest and picked it up. He tested its weight with both hands then in a solid motion grabbed the latch and the base separately and tore the box open. “I feel so strong, Jason,” Tyson said as he put the opened chest down. His voice was dreamy, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. “It’s taking all of my willpower to not try to punch a hole in a tree or even push it down. Because I feel like I actually could.” At that moment he looked down at his body for the first time since waking up. He grinned and looked at Jason before reaching down into the chest. He pulled out a smaller black chest with an intricate clasp. Placing it on the table, Jason pushed the button on the front and the top opened with a hiss. Jason walked over and looked in the 2’ x 1’ box. Inside lay row after row of sealed vials, each set in a perfectly shaped hole in a cork bed. Tyson pulled out one of the vials. ‘Serum 07D-54’ was stamped on the side. Tyson smiled, looked at Jason, and handed him the vial. “Your turn” was all he said. And it wasn’t a question.
  17. Calepage60

    Jason Becomes a Man - Parts 1 and 2

    Reposted and reworked from a previous post ------------ Jason Becomes a Man - Chapter 1 At 18 years old, Jason figured he should know by now where his life was headed. But there he stood, looking back at his reflection in his bedroom’s full-length mirror. Sure, this was the face he saw when he shaved every morning, but somehow he felt he didn’t recognize the person staring back at him. Long, somewhat clumsy, thick hair spread about his bare, gangly frame. It had been a long time since he had taken a good look at himself. “I guess it could be worse,” he thought. Finals were a few months away, and he had already committed to school for the fall, but something felt empty… incomplete... Jason was aware he was somewhat of an “early bloomer.” His voice dropped low and early, and by the end of his first year in middle school he was already well used to be addressed as “sir” when marketers called on the telephone. He knew his deep, booming baritone voice stood out, so he limited talking when possible to avoid drawing too much attention. By freshman year of high school, he hit a growth spurt that shot him up to a lankly 6’3’’. By senior year and his 18th birthday, he could already grow a full beard, and while his friends were comparing their single, newly sprouted chest hairs, Jason’s chest was practically fully covered with a brown, curly forest. As Jason looked himself up and down, he felt a little odd, like the pieces didn’t add up. His face looked thin and young, but he was hairier than his dad and most of his friends. He didn’t even fit in the mirror, and had to contort his long neck to see all of himself at once. Jason was conscious of the looks he got from his peers. Although he wasn’t ashamed of his body, he could hear his friends whispering about him after gym class, and whether or not they were looking at him with jealousy or disdain, Jason knew they were focused on him. “Maybe that’s what it is.” Jason thought as he looked up and down at his long, limber frame. He knew he had matured faster than his friends. That must be why he felt vaguely uneasy and unsure. Maybe they were making fun of him behind his back. Maybe his mind hadn’t grown into the changes yet. Even though it made him stick out among his peers, Jason’s lankiness and impressive height did have a distinct advantage; he excelled on his high school basketball team, and it had earned him a scholarship to an amazing school, much to the delight of his parents. Jason’s parents were much older than his friends’ parents, and had waited until they were well-established college professors in their mid-forties before having a child of their own. Like many of their generation, they emphasized the importance of building a career and becoming well adjusted-adults before having a family, and had pushed Jason toward the long academic path they had followed; Bachelor’s degree, then a Masters, then PhDs, etc. But Jason was having second thoughts. He had worked hard, but was it what he really wanted? He had already developed a fairly successful gardening business over the last year, trimming the yards of houses around town. He found that his large frame, although still fairly lanky, was well suited to the physical work, and he was already making a decent wage with his own business when most of his friends were making pennies at their minimum-wage summer jobs. It didn’t go unnoticed by his friends that girls loved to talk to him and be around him. One time, after talking with his friend Erika in the school hallway Jason overheard Allan, one of his basketball teammates, whisper to another friend, “that guys fucks.” But the truth was, although he had had a passing interest in girls, the pressure Jason was under from his parents drove him toward other pursuits. True, he had been on a few dates, two with Erika, but nothing progressed further than a kiss under a porch-light at the end of the night. *** There was one thing that had recently given Jason clarity and focus as the stress and confusion piled up around him- the gym. Jason’s basketball coach had him on a regular workout regimen to prepare him for college in the fall, and Jason found the physical activity cleansing. With a weight in his hand or a squat bar on his long shoulders, he focused in and tuned out. The blood pumped to his muscles, and his brain connected with something deeper inside himself. It was a time to see himself, to be alone and not think. As finals and graduation came and went, Jason dove deeper into his workouts on his own. His friends had all left for the summer for their last vacations before college, but Jason stayed behind. Summer was spent lifting and mowing lawns. It wasn’t long until he started noticing significant changes. The more he worked out, the hungrier he was, and while he always had a high amount of testosterone in his system, it seemed that the testosterone surged over the course of the summer. Powered by the flood of masculine hormones and his new-found voracious appetite, he packed on a solid 15 pounds of muscle by September, and his large, lanky frame began to fill out. His bony shoulders became broader with the added size, and his long, lanky arms swelled with healthy meat. He wasn’t big by bodybuilder standards, but he felt heftier, more substantial, like he took up more space in the world. Even more noticeable to Jason than his added muscle was the change to his demeanor. As he could feel the testosterone coursing through his veins, his vagueness and uncertainty had melted away to a masculine confidence. He felt in control. His hard work had brought results, and he finally started to feel like he had taken charge of life. The reactions of his friends upon returning home for the fall didn’t hurt, either. “Dude, what happened to my gangly friend,” remarked Jason’s basketball buddy Steven when they bumped into each other at the mall. “You’re looking bigger, bro, you’ve been working out?” Jason smiled a humble and yet slightly cocky smile. “Naw man, just trying to catch up to you guys.” The compliments trickled in from all of his friends. It was exciting, and it drove him to work even harder. Life was going well. Work was going well. Why mess with a good thing? Much to the chagrin of his parents, Jason decided to defer college for a year and focus on the gym and his burgeoning gardening business. *** Fall turned to winter, winter turned to spring, and spring gave way to the sweltering heat of summer once more. Now 19 and in the full throes of a testosterone flood, Jason had grown to a solid 225 lbs, filling out his broad 6”3’ frame. His lats widened, his back was broader, and his legs swelled with every squat. He had outgrown his high school gym clothes, and had to buy a new wardrobe large enough to allow for his quickly growing size. The basketball shorts that used to hang loose around his long legs now clung tight around his large quads. He had never thought he would be the dude in a stringer at the gym, but there he was. And it felt natural. One morning, after a particularly thorough workout, Jason tossed off his clothes in his room and caught sight of himself in his bedroom mirror. “Wow,” he thought aloud in his booming baritone, “Puberty really is a bitch, huh?” He thought that his jaw was noticeably squarer, and although he shaved every morning, he had a noticeable, thick brown stubble by 2:00pm. His broad pecs were coated with curly, brown hair that was slightly matted down with sweat from the gym, and it trailed down his tight abs and down to a thick bush of pubes. This looked right. It felt right. And was it his imagination, or had his balls dropped lower and slightly swelled in size? Jason flexed his thick biceps in the mirror, and moved the peaks back and forth. “Huh, cool,” he mused, his semi-erect dick swinging in the open air. The flowing hormones raised his confidence and he swaggered to the other side of the room and posed again. He squeezed his pecs in the light of his room, and even under his fairly thick chest hair he could see the striations ripple like tiny waves. “Shit.” He grunted. “I look like a fucking man.” His cock stood fully erect as he looked at himself in the mirror. A healthy 8.5 inches, uncut, and swelling with his newfound manliness. Jason wrapped his hand around it, almost habitually preparing to jerk off before bed as was his normal routine. But this time he looked down at his thick, stiff cock and a different desire emerged, a hot, impulsive feeling he had never acknowledged before. It was almost like a dormant instinct had risen within him. Jason, who had previously only had a passing interest in the opposite sex, felt an incredible urge to plunge his cock deep into a woman. He felt his thick member pulse. For the first time, he felt his deep, animal purpose as a man; to pleasure a woman and deliver his seed. Jason let go of his stiff rod and admired his masculine frame in the reflection. There would be no jacking off tonight. He smiled a crooked, cocky smile as he flexed both meaty biceps again. He was a man, and men fuck. *** The summer sun beat down hot, and Jason grunted as he re-positioned his lawnmower and pushed it across the Johnson’s lawn. Free from school or strict employment, Jason had let his hair grow out over the past year, and his golden brown hair draped over the back of his neck as he pushed his equipment around the yard. He had let his beard grow out too, although despite its length and thickness it was groomed in a neat, square shape that complimented his masculine jaw. With his height and large, hirsute frame, Jason was often mistaken for a man closer to 30 than 20. He noticed that grown men, even those twice his age, treated him different than they had even a year prior. They deferred to him naturally and treated him with automatic respect. Even the more experienced men at the gym started striking up conversations with him in an almost admiring way. It felt good to be held in such high regard, but as he pushed his lawnmower, his mind wandered. Was it weird that he had become so consumed with sex recently? He knew it was normal for guys his age to be horny all the time, but did they feel the same way he did? With his manly frame and manly swagger came an insatiable manly desire to cum inside a woman and fill her with his semen. Did he want kids? He was only 19, and that would be crazy. It would ruin his life, his parents said. Still, no one else he knew his age looked like he did. “Maybe some people become men before others,” he thought. But at 19 and a virgin who had never acted on his urges, he felt empty and unfulfilled in a way he couldn’t quite put into words. Sure, the admiration and respect he was getting lately was great, but underneath he felt unfinished. He looked every bit the red-blooded, meat-and-potatoes male, but he didn’t feel like a full man. Not yet. Jason had also noticed that Mrs. Johnson was watching him push his lawnmower shirtless in the heat, and could feel her eyes drink in every rippling crevice of his hulking, shirtless torso. He saw her shift when his bulging arms swung around his machinery, and he caught her staring at his broad, masculine shoulders as he unwound the hose on the side of the house. Jason waved. Mrs. Johnson waved back. “Great,” he thought, flipping his hair out of his face. “Another mom who wants the D.” Truth be told, Jason was getting attention from women (and some men) so often that he usually didn’t think twice about it. Girls his age called him a “daddy,” which made him slightly uncomfortable at first, but he grew into enjoying the compliment. Although he found himself horny most of the time, Jason funneled his frustration into the gym and his work. Business was booming. Mrs. Johnson wasn’t the only cougar in town with a lawn that needed mowing. But Jason had no real interest in the moms that hired him to trim their hedges. As his parents had drilled their sense of planning and responsibility into his head, Jason had purchased a few condoms to carry in his wallet for when the moment was right. He wasn’t dating anybody, but with his new primal, masculine urge consuming his mind most days, he knew that it was better to be safe than sorry. *** Jason parked his truck in the driveway. His parents were out of town for the weekend, so there was plenty of room. Just as he was turning his keys in the door, he heard a voice behind him. “Jason?” Jason turned around to see his friend Erika out walking her dog. “Erika! Hi!” “Oh my god, is that you? I mean, I know I’ve been away at school for a year but… wow, you got huge!” Jason blushed a bit at the compliment. “Thanks, so did- I mean- you look great, too!” Jason tried to act cool, but his hormones were putting him into stammering overdrive. Did Erika look like this the last time he saw her? He didn’t remember her hourglass figure, her full breasts, or her wide, perfect hips. Erika laughed. “Thanks.” She walked closer to the large, muscular man she hardly recognized as the boy she briefly dated a few short years ago. “You have a beard now!” “Yeah,” Jason replied, “it grows so fast it’s easier to just let it go.” He couldn’t help run his eyes up and down her perfect curvy torso. So feminine. The animalistic feeling in him rose. His face grew hot, and he slouched a bit to hid his growing erection. He plunged his hands into his pockets and his large triceps tensed in a horseshoe shape. Erika laughed again, “Geez, you’re unreal, dude. Those things are massive.” Jason saw Erika’s eyes drinking in his arms, and he stood up straight with pride, crossing his thick pythons across his chest, a tuft of thick, brown hair peeking out of the top of his white tee. Erika was truly awed by his masculinity, he couldn’t tell how he knew, but it was as if a new sense had opened up to him. Smelling the pheromones. He wasn’t hiding his growing erection anymore. “Nah, they’re not much really,” he said as he pretended to scratch an itch on the back of his neck, flexing his powerful bicep and stretching the limits of his sleeve. Erika leaned in, almost mesmerized, as her dog yanked at his leash to continue his walk. “Listen, Erika,” Jason said in his deep, resonant voice. “You want to get some yogurt or something tonight?” “Sure,” she muttered. Now Erika was the one stammering. “Meet me at eight?” *** Sometime after 10:00pm, Jason opened the door to his house and turned on the lights. Erika followed him in. “Thank you so much, I just need a glass of water,” she said, as Jason headed to the kitchen. “I don’t want to wake up your parents.” “They’re not home,” Jason yelled back, “are you sure you don’t want to come sit in the living room?” “Okay, just for a second,” Erika said as she put down her things. Erika sat on the couch, and Jason gave her the glass of water. He took off his jacket, once again revealing his muscled arms in his tight white tee. Erika saw the way it hugged his perfect V-shaped torso, and she sipped her water. Jason was quiet. “Jason?” “Yes?” “I need to be honest with you. I knew your parents weren’t home.” “Really?” Erika’s face was getting flushed, and she set down her glass. “I don’t know what it is,” she said, “Ever since I saw you I’ve just been… I don’t know… this is a new feeling for me. I saw your body, and that beard… …this is like…” She looked up at Jason and took a deep breath. “I’ve dated a few boys, but… you’re a god damn man.” Jason’s primal instincts were running wild. He felt his jeans get tight around his growing dick, and he moved toward Erika nervously. This large, hulking man was nervous. He kissed her passionately. He had kissed her before, but this time was different. This time he instinctively knew the kiss was a means to an end. “Mmm Jason,” Erika sighed, “I’ve never- uh… I mean with those boyfriends, I never actually…” her eyes drifted to the bulge in his pants. The thought of Erika’s virgin pussy was driving Jason to the brink. “Jason-“ And before she could say anything more, Jason scooped her in his thick arms and carried her up the stairs, and laid her on his parents’ king size bed. Erika removed her clothes, and laid on her back in only her underwear. Jason saw her prefect, full breasts spill down either side of her torso, and his mind raced. He peeled his tight white tee off of his rippling torso. Erika gasped. “Shit, you’re so hairy. Come here.” Jason threw his jeans aside, and flopped on the bed next to Erika. Erika ran her hands across his rock hard pecs, and trailed her fingers through his thick chest hair. “Too hairy?” “No! Dad hairy.” She looked deep into his eyes. “You can call me daddy if you want,” Jason rumbled, “I’ve gotten used to it.” Erika shivered as Jason ran his tongue down her neck and around her pert nipples. He held her breasts in his hands, and delighted in their soft weight. Naive and eager, he explored her feminine curves. Even though he had never been with a woman before, Jason acted almost automatically, his hands moving before his brain knew what was happening. With a strong, nervous hand, he stripped away Erika’s underwear. Jason had seen pictures of the female anatomy in textbooks before, but as Erika spread her legs wide open in front of his face, there it was, infinitely more beautiful than he expected. In a book it seemed so dry, so mechanical, but here was Erika’s pussy, pink and inviting, throbbing in anticipation of his touch. This was for him. He was meant to enter her and take his pleasure. He traced the labia lightly with his fingers, and Erika shuddered. She was giving herself over to him completely, and this was now his territory to conquest. He spread her vagina gently apart with his fingers and licked her soft pinkness with his tongue. She tasted sweet, and the musky scent of her shut his rational mind off almost completely. “Oh, oh god,” Erika moaned. “Your beard, your fucking beard!” Jason’s thick beard tickled Erika as he licked her pussy. The thought of being inside her swelled his dick to its full thick, 8.5 inches. The smell of her in his beard pushed his lust further. “Let me see it, I want to see it,” Erika begged. Jason removed his briefs, and his cock stood to full attention. “Oh my god, I need it, I need it inside of me,” Erika moaned. There they were, both completely naked. Jason, young and inexperienced but in every way a full virile man, and the woman laying legs wide open, ready to accept his manhood. Jason's girthy member had never felt stiffer, and it trembled, eager to feel the inside of a woman for the first time. Jason caught a glimpse of the scene in the bedroom mirror. “Shit,” he said out loud in his booming voice. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard.” Erika moaned and writhed in anticipation. Jason scrambled to his jean pocket and pulled out a condom from his wallet. He pulled it down across his large dick. It felt tight, but it was worth it to be safe, right? He pulled Erika to the edge of the bed, his primal instincts raging. With the tip of his dick, he gently caressed Erika’s warm, pink pussy. She moaned in response. “Wait, wait!” she gasped. “What?” “Take it off, take off the condom.” “But aren’t you-“ “I want your cum inside of me,” she heaved, “I need it. I don’t care what happens.” Jason peeled off the condom. This was his purpose. As he looked down at Erika’s throbbing pussy, he knew his destiny was to pleasure her and fill her fertile womb with his seed. He slowly, gently penetrated her with his thick cock. It was a feeling like he had never experienced, and yet felt he was meant for. So warm, so tight, and sticky-soft like honey. He could only get halfway in before Erika yelped, “Slow down, too big, too big!” He leaned over, halfway inside her, and kissed her gently on the forehead. He carefully eased all the way in, as Erika drew a deep breath through her teeth. Just as slow, he eased back out again. “Shit,” Jason grunted, “your pussy is so fucking tight.” He drew in and out, in and out, slowly but with increasing rhythm, as Erika writhed and moaned in pleasure. Looking down at her was a huge man, rippling, muscular arms tensed to brace his heavy weight. His face contorted into a wince of pleasure with his rhythmic thrusts as he felt her pussy clench around his stiff cock. Jason saw his powerful glutes at work in the mirror, and flexed a bicep as he thrust into Erika’s warm, tight, hole. He looked powerful, strong, masculine. Thousands of years of evolution had led to this moment, but in this moment, he was king. He was master. Erika screamed and twisted, and Jason felt the strongest clench yet around his thrusting cock. Instinctively, he knew he had made her cum. He continued plunging inside at that angle, thrust after thrust, until he felt her spasm of pleasure three more times. The pleasure in his own dick was growing by the second, unimaginable ecstasy combined with the powerful feeling that, of all available men, this woman chose him to penetrate her and fill her with his DNA. After three thrusts of incredible bliss, Jason tensed every muscle in his young, hulking body. He dove his dick as deep inside Erika as possible, and with a deep, guttural grunt, exploded inside of her. This was not like any orgasm he had ever had before. This time, he was fulfilling his destiny. With every throb of his powerful cock, he was pumping Erika’s fertile womb with his hot, sticky, essence. He could feel her pussy pulling him in deeper, as if to drink every last drop of his virile juices. Spent, Jason withdrew and Erika was left heaving on the bed. “Wow,” she muttered, “just, uhhhh…” Jason looked between her legs, still spread wide open. Her pussy was a deep red from his efforts, and he could see the smallest bit of white semen spilling out as she basked in the afterglow. “Damn,” he thought, “that’s my cum in her pussy.” For a brief moment, he panicked. Did he just ruin his life? But as he crawled back into the bed with Erika, he imagined his sperm swimming inside of the woman beside him, and he grew aroused once more. He imagined her young, feminine figure swollen with the result of his semen, his DNA, his child, and he secretly, in some deep, primal part of himself, wished it would happen. Maybe he got called “daddy” for a reason. It was his fate to pass on his powerful, strong genes. That was the primal urge he felt. The drive that every fiber of his virile body worked together to achieve. He knew in that moment, his large, hairy figure next to the exhausted woman he just fucked, her womb filled to the brim with his masculine essence so much it spilled out of her; This is what it feels like to be a man.
  18. compactmuscle

    Biker Muscle

    Also known as "Big Dan". This story dates from the 1990s, I believe. The first five original parts were written by Michael Yoder (myoder). TCCowboy wrote the sixth part. This version was preserved by fred2001, with slight corrections by me. Big Dan Part I Dan was a biker. He liked being on the open road and only took jobs when he needed the bucks for food or a good workout. His favorite jobs were construction and logging - anything that worked his huge muscles hard and helped him grow. He was a huge man and wanted to be even bigger! He was 35 years old stood 6'8" and weighed 480lbs. His neck was a thick 25" around and his shoulders spanned 38" across his back! His chest, thick with dark brown hair was an incredible 75". His biceps stretched the tape at 26" but he wanted them bigger. His hairy forearms measured 22" and his wrists were nearly 10" around. His waist was 36" and his abs jutted out like bricks. His thighs were an amazing 40" and his calves were blown to almost 29". He was a giant, totally powerful and totally in control. His hair shoulder length, thinning a little on top and he kept it brushed back, and he wore a mustache that framed his sneering lips. After one his construction jobs, Dan went down to a gym near the Italian district. The place was small, but he noticed the men coming out were big. He figured this would be a good place for him to pump up. He wandered into the small, dark gym and paid for a workout. He stripped into some shorts and immediately grabbed the heaviest weights he could find and started pumping. The other guys were astounded at Dan's incredible strength - warming up his arms with 200lbs! He pumped out 20 reps and put them down looking for bigger weights. He settled on 250lbs for another 20 reps. His arms were ripped and huge, but he wished they could be bigger. Then a guy came over and started talking with Dan. "Hey, big guy! You wanna get bigger?!" Dan put the weights down and looked over. This guy wasn't as tall as Dan - only 6'2", but he was big! He rivaled Dan in muscle size, and probably strength. He said his name was John. "Bigger than this?!" Dan said. "Yeah, Fuck man, I wanna be the fucking biggest freak around!" He flexed his pumped 26" biceps and grunted. "Fuckin' huge, man. You can make me bigger?" "Yeah," the guy said handing Dan 4 small blue pills. "Take one of these, workout for a while and you'll pump so huge you won't believe it. Forty bucks." Dan grabbed his wallet and paid the guy. "If this doesn't work, I'll pound your fucking ass man!" He swallowed one of the pills and started to bench press with 500lbs. He completed a few reps and suddenly felt dizzy. He put the weight back on the rack before it crashed onto his chest. The dizziness persisted for a moment, and then Dan felt a rush - like fire in his veins. The rush ran through his whole body as the steroid took effect. Then he felt a rush of power and grabbed the 500lb barbell. Now it felt like a toothpick! He hefted it up and down, pumping out 20 reps, 30 reps, 40 reps! "Not enough weight!" he shouted, jumping up from the bench. He grabbed another 500lb barbell and started doing curls with it! "Yeah! Fuck man, this is wild!" He watched in the mirror as his arms expanded before his eyes. The 500lbs was like nothing to him as his power increased with every passing second. He wanted more weight. He grabbed the leg press machine - loaded down with plates and lifted the whole thing over his head with a shout of power! He sneered at the puny men gathered round to watch this incredible feat. He pressed the 1500lbs of machine over his head like a toy! "BIGGER! FUCKIN' BIGGER!" He looked in the mirror and saw how his T-shirt was stretched tight over his massive and expanding muscle. The veins in his neck and arms were like thick ropes, Striations were bursting through his skin. His dick was getting bigger, too, he could feel it growing in his shorts which were stretched over his massive quads! He was mesmerized by his reflection and tossed the machine down with a tremendous crash! "Somebody measure me, man!" He held his gargantuan biceps up and flexed. His shirt sleeves tore away. He rolled his big pecs and the shirt ripped open falling to the floor in shreds. He flexed every muscle as the guys measured him. "Biceps - 30"; chest - 80"; waist - 40"; thighs - 40"; calves - 34"... Everyone gasped as Dan posed and flexed his superhuman body. He hit a most muscular pose and gritted his teeth looking like a wild man. His muscle was huge and cut. His dick started growing in his shorts, getting longer and thicker and the admiration he was getting was making it hard, too. He knew before long the shorts would give out. Then he pulled out the other pills and downed them all. "Don't!" John said. "You'll get too big!" With one massive hairy hand, Dan pushed John away as the pills took effect. The dizziness lasted a little longer than before, then the rush pressed through Dan's veins like a train. He looked in the mirror and watched as his body started to grow. The shorts fell away quickly as his thigh expanded and his dick sprang out - huge and hard as a rock! "MEASURE MY FUCKING COCK, MAN!" He bellowed. His voice was deeper and he felt like he was soon going to be the strongest and biggest man on the planet. "15 inches! and 11" around!" they gasped. Dan grinned knowing his dick was bigger than any of their puny ones. Even the largest guy couldn't have a cock harder and bigger than this horsedick - fuck even a horse couldn't! Dan walked over to a weight bench and grabbed four fifty pound plates. He flexed his rock hard cock a few times and then placed the plates one by one over the head of his massive dong. The weights stayed in place as his huge cock flexed. Two-hundred pounds lifted by this monster's prick! "FUCK, THAT'S HOT!' Dan bellowed, showing off the power of his mammoth dick. "JOHN, GET OVER HERE!" John came closer and Dan picked him up in one hand. The giant man, muscles bulging and still growing placed the 250lb man on his dick straddling the massive prick. Then Dan lifted John and the weights with his cock! 450lbs lifted by the muscle dick! "RIDE MY MUSCLE COCK!" Dan bellowed as he flexed John up and down. John grabbed onto Dan's mountainous hairy pecs and Dan threw his head back and laughed as he flexed them for John. John got so hot reveling in the power of Dan that his cock stiffened and he shot in his gym shorts. "FUCKIN' MUSCLE STUD!" Dan shouted. "I'M GETTIN' BIGGER BOYS. LOOK AT THIS!" He flexed his biceps and the peak rose up almost to his fist! His forearms were thick and hard. The triceps extended down in a mass of veins and his muscle was twisted and pumped. He lowered his arms although they sat out at a angle pushed out by his incredible lats. He had to be 3 feet thick! All muscle, all man! His chin rested on top of his pecs and when he flexed his huge hairy pecs, the striations looked about 2 inches deep, hair furrowed through the thick cords of muscle. His abdominals were like slabs of beef stretching over his gut and jutting out in a deep six-pack. His thighs were ripped and every muscle in his quads and calves were striated and thick. He turned around and spread his back. Even relaxed it was cut with mountains of muscle. His traps raised over his shoulders like twisted mountains of brutal flesh! His cock flexed and pulsed with his excitement as he grew bigger. "TIME TO MEASURE ME AGAIN!" he shouted. "EVERY FUCKIN' INCH!" They wrapped the tape around his obscenely huge muscles and called out the measurements. "Neck - 28"; chest - 90"; biceps - 37"; forearms - 30"; waist - 46"; thighs - 48"; calves - 38" Dan laughed as each measurement was read off. "Measure my dick, too" They taped it at 19" long and 14" around! "YEAH! YOU LITTLE GUYS EVER SEEN A REAL FUCKING MAN BEFORE!" Dan's muscle and power had peaked now and he was so hot he knew he was going to shoot off soon. In a burst of strength he gathered up the guys and sat them on top of a long bench. He lay under the bench and pressed it. It had to weigh 2000 lbs. He pumped out 30 reps without stopping and then stood up with the bench in his huge hands. He held it high overhead and started pumping more. His cock flexed with his inhuman strength and the guys were so turned on by his power they started jerking off too. Sweaty hard bodies all swarmed over Dan - like ants on a huge beast. Dan laughed insanely as these huge bodybuilders climbed on him! "WORSHIP THIS MUSCLE, YOU PUNY MEN! WORSHIP MY MASS AND POWER!" He stood still as they used his body like monkey bars, chin raises off his massive arms, pushing at his thighs trying to move them, straddling his 19" rock hard cock as he flexed it for them! Finally, they all started shooting hot loads all over Dan's body. Their total worship of his muscle got him hot. He flexed his cock, throbbing it more and more and shot a load that sprayed over all of them. He was the biggest man in the world, and this was going to be just the beginning of his adventures...
  19. Part 1 – The High School Hero Chapter 1 I’ve never embraced the spotlight. I’ve had many chances at having the center of attention all to myself, but that’s not who I am as a person. I like to be just on the outskirts of the spotlight—close enough that I can feel its warmth and people can see me, but not so close that it blinds me. If I wanted to be magnificently famous, it would have happened. I had many opportunities. Instead, though, I stayed on those outskirts. My life has changed drastically depending on whose outskirts I was staying on. The high school hero, the college con-artist, the West California wild card, the Hollywood hunk—they each changed me in very different ways. But I don’t want to tell my whole life story—every grocery trip, every load of laundry, every DMV line. I do want to give the highlights, though. Because, oh, have I had some highlights. But I’m getting a little ahead of myself. I guess I should really start by explaining my nickname. My name is Gerald P. Vaughn, but it’s my most intimate nickname that really matters. I’ve had many casual nicknames throughout my life, but only a select few have ever called me The Repository. My high school boyfriend gave that particular nickname to me. I didn’t know then why Gregg picked me. He was the hunky hero of the football team. I was the editor of yearbook who spent my weekends writing fan-fic of Spider-man and The Hunger Games. He had firm, taut muscles and dazzlingly blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. I had a somewhat slight frame, and mud-brown hair and eyes. He was well over six feet tall. I was a slightly more than average 6’, my only really distinguishing feature being my height. He came from money and was super popular. I worked at a deli part time to help the family expenses and had a small but tight-knit circle of friends. Gregg and I only met because we had the same AP English class. I’d noticed him freshman year, but I don’t think he even knew my name until we had that English class together. At our little high school in Illinois, any student taking an AP class senior year had to take a special one-day seminar at the end of their junior years to give us our summer assignments so we could hit the ground running come September. That’s where Gregg and I officially met. He asked me out, and we dated in secret all summer. He was still closeted, so we couldn’t date openly, but I was still a teenager—so I didn’t really care. I liked having him as my secret. We would spend muggy summer afternoons in my attic bedroom in each other’s embrace. We didn’t do a lot of talking, but we spent a lot of time together. I couldn’t get enough of his athletic torso and pert pecs. He couldn’t get enough of my kisses. Gregg told me I was an amazing kisser. He wouldn’t be the last. A few months into our relationship, a week after my 18th birthday, we finally decided it was time to go beyond the heavy petting and hand jobs and try some serious sex. After the dance of condoms and lube, Gregg prepared to top me. He pounded me dutifully with his girthy 5 inches, but lasted all of two minutes. Apparently, Mr. Football Hotshot was a virgin before he started dating me. He’d had girlfriends, he'd told me, but I guess none of those girls had gotten as far with him as I had. I wasn’t going to hold it against him; I was a virgin before I started dating him too. When he finished, he told me it was my turn. My head was so filled with stereotypes about gay sex and who tops who that I actually didn’t expect he’d give me a turn topping, and I was so excited to try. I put the condom on my eager (and perfectly average) 6 inch dick, and I began working myself into him. I wanted to fuck him hard and good, but given the disparity in our bodies, I didn’t think I could. Then, instinctively, it occurred to me. “Lend me ten pounds,” I said. “What?” he asked in a fog of sex and confusion. “Lend me ten pounds of muscle,” I repeated, adding, “Please.” Perhaps thinking it was some kind of role play, he meekly said, “Okay. You can borrow ten pounds of muscle.” As soon as he said it, his muscles diminished a little. He was still firm and big, but nowhere near as big as he had just been. At the same time, I felt my body become more solid, stronger, taking up more space. My flat chest blossomed a little, my arms thickened, my abs tightened, my ass firmed. His ten pounds were in my body, and I used them to start fucking him harder and more thoroughly. Gregg looked at our bodies, and a look of joy spread over his face as I picked up the pace of my fucking. “You can borrow another ten, as long as you fuck me senseless,” he said, giving into the passion. Ten more pounds melted off his physique. He still looked fit and healthy with a trim midsection, but he looked more like an up-and-coming football player rather than a football star. I, meanwhile, now looked like I’d been working out for years, building my body up to teenaged muscular perfection. My chest was thick and proud, my arms were strong and solid, and my ass flexed into round relief as I plowed Gregg thoroughly. He came for the second time before I came once. But when I did climax, the might I had in my borrowed muscles flexed and tensed, drawing up close to the surface. Looking down at my reduced boyfriend, my body was thicker and meatier than his, a realization that spurred my orgasm to greater heights. I pulled out and rolled over so we could spoon, and as soon as he had his arms around me, I said, “Okay. You can have them back now.” When I said it, my form returned to its normal state, and the arms around me grew strong and burly, Gregg’s arms as I had come to know them.
  20. tereshky

    Web Cam Abuse

    Two enterprising college kids think they can pay their way through school by showing off their ripped bods as part of a web cam business. When a company comes along offering them a ton of money for an hour's work, they learn that when an opportunity sounds too good to be true, you should always read the fine print. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The mattress springs were singing out their usual Thursday night chorus in Howie's apartment. That was the evening he and his friend Chase had free to get together and they rarely missed and opportunity to jump on each other. Chase gripped the bed posts as Howie pounded away in his tight hole. The two college students had found each other in the same modeling agency. That's how these two ripped guys were paying their way through school, at least that's how they had intended to pay the bills. College expenses were growing much more than they could bring in and it was becoming a real problem trying to stay out of debt. Yet for right now, neither of them were thinking about that as Howie's cock pounded away into his friend's tight hole. “UHUHUH..MMMmm” Chase moaned, while Howie continued pounding his rock hard cock into the bottom boy's prostate. Chase gripped the sheets with his hands as his toes curled. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Legs in the air, he bit his lower lip and thrust his ass forward in rhythm with his buddy's thrusts. It was hard to tell which boy was enjoying the sex more. Howie had ahold of Chase’s slender waist and pounded him back and forth, almost like a life sized flesh jack. Howie's eyes rolled back into his head as he reached his climax, unable to hold it in any longer. "Fuck I'm going to cum..." he groaned. He gave Chase one last hard thrust and grabbed him as hard as he could as he loaded his friend up with his cum. Chase followed suit and blasts Howie's ripped pecs with his jizz. They took a moment to breathe and let their heart beats slow down before Howie collapsed on top his naked friend. "Fuck that was hot…" Chase smiled in orgasmic bliss. He could feel his sexy friends hot spunk coating his insides. “Hehe.” He giggled, showing a crooked smile. “Every time!” Chase said, before kissing Howie on the cheek. “Now, slide off me so I can get cleaned up. We need to do that cam show or else we won’t have money for classes next semester. Do you still have that website address?” Since the two of them were on pretty intimate terms with each other already they had devised a scheme to go make money doing cam shows online. So far they had only made $1000 altogether and they each needed $5000 to keep from having to take out loans. But Howie had different plans. "Actually I was thinking we could do something a little different." Howie reached into his backpack and pulled out an ad he'd printed out from the net. "This company called Stretch Studios lets guys do cam shows in their studio and they can make five times as much as we make doing it here." He smiled. "Think about it, we could really make this work!" “Oh really??” Chase said, while perking up. He pushed himself up on his elbows, causing Howie to awkwardly slide against his chiseled torso due to the amount of jizz that was coating them both. “Like, what would we have to do then, big guy? I think we’ve already done everything BUT fuck on cam.” "I mean, I can't say that they wouldn't ask us to fuck each other but hey, this pays even more than the modeling. Nobody has to know. Camming isn't like porn. Only paid subscribers get to see it. And based on what they'd be paying us, I'll bet the fees are pretty high. I'll bet you no one even finds out we're doing it." Chase rolled his green eyes from side to side as he pretended to toss the idea around. Of course he was going to comply with his sexy partner, he just liked being extra like that. “Maaaybe.. But I should get to top you if it comes to that.” he joked, knowing damn well that Howie would never let anyone top him. “I mean, just in case my parents end up seeing it. I think they would take it better than seeing their son biting the sheets and taking a cock... even one as big as yours.” He grinned, scrunching up his face. "Top me huh? Someone's feeling fiesty." Howie said, pushing Chase on his back again. "If your parents are subscribed to this channel then I think they get what they get." He grinned. "I highly doubt they'll be clients." He was getting horny again. "So do you agree?" “Hey, it’s the internet.. you never know who will see it.” Chase grinned. “But yeah, I’ll do it.” He could feel Howie’s cock getting hard again, it was plumping up while pinned between his cheeks. That in turn was also making Chase start to get hard again. "Well... since we've no further business to discuss..." Howie licked his friend’s back and the mattress began to sing once more. In the next days the two of them sent in an inquiry to the company about whether they'd like to book a partnered performance and sent in their pictures. They got a reply within an hour and it blew them away. $3000 for each of them. That would put them more than half way toward their goal. The two made an appointment at studio for 10 AM on Saturday. It was for an hour session. Stretch Studios was about a 20 mile drive from campus. The morning they were scheduled to perform was cloudy as they walked up to the building. It was very large, almost like a hospital or something. They could hear the humming of strange equipment. "Wow this is more industrial than any camming studio I ever imagined." In truth, Howie hadn't imagined one at all. Chase looked around the spacious lobby. He could hear their footsteps echoing as the walked towards the front desk to check in. “You sure we aren’t about to have our organs harvested??” He looked over at Howie nervously. It was clearly a joke, but at the same time... The ceilings had to be over twenty feet tall. He wondered how big the room they would be camming in would end up being, if this was just the lobby. "I guess the camming business is more profitable than I thought." Howie said going up to the receptionist. Without introducing themselves he looked up and smiled. "Hey boys, lets see... Howie and... Chase right?" The two nodded. "My name’s Tim. We have a policy that if we can't recognize you by the pics you send then you can't do the job... unless of course you're hotter than your pics then we make an exception." He winked and pulled out two stacks of papers. "These are the liability waivers and the contracts. The amount each of you'll be paid for one session is highlighted here." They grinned, it was in fact $3000, signing something made it seem more official. The two were shown into their room which was surrounded by two way mirrors but inside was a bed, some chairs, workout equipment, and sex toys. "Whatever you decide to do, you should have enough toys to do whatever you want." He added, "Don't worry about where you are in the room. Unless you're under the bed there are cameras that will see you and focus in on what the operators think is important. The screens you see on the wall will give you feedback from your viewers.” “So we can do whatever we want?” Howie asked. “Well… yes of course you can it’s what your contract said.” Tim said, knowing full well that neither of them had read it. No one ever did. “But… since you guys didn’t get those good looks by reading let me break it down. It’s $3000 base pay for an hour plus $1 for every upvote you get, kind of like a dancer, you make money from tips. Only unlike social media, our clients have to buy the likes, and they can buy as many as they want. Our clients are a little spoiled, they type what they want to see and it appears on the screen if enough of them want the same thing. They usually don’t upvote unless they see what they like.” “Well…” Howie said, “Hopefully they don’t want us to blow our load too early.” “Well that can happen… and if too many of them get bored and log off, you don’t get paid for the entire hour.” Tim saw the look of despair on their faces. “Not to worry boys, as per your contract, we’ve got a special trick to keep you going strong the entire time. It’s up to you if you want to use it or not. Though it will pretty much hand over control of the show to the clients.” “I’m in...” said Chase. He didn’t want to blow this opportunity. He really needed that money. Howie nodded as well and Tim pulled out two little boxes that looked like they might contain jewelry. “Oh don’t worry, I’m already married.” Tim laughed, heading off a tedious joke he’d heard a million times. He handed them the boxes and in each one there was a small device the size of a small wine cork. They didn’t have to ask what they were supposed to do with it, but Tim figuring they were dumb as logs demonstrated it anyway with hand movements. “Have fun boys!” He waved walking out, closing a door that basically faded away to look just like the rest of the wall. “Huh.. No door knob on the inside. I guess we are here until the end of the session.” Chase smiled, looking over to Howie. “Should we get undressed or make them pay to get us that way? I’m not sure what their usual clientele are used to, maybe we should have checked out some feeds before we came today.” Chase looked around the room, it seemed like this company had thought of almost every possible thing a cammer would need to really give a good performance. "Well... I tried to look it up but the pay wall's insane. It's $10,000 a month or $2,000 for a session. I didn't feel like investing that much in our research. We'll just do it like we do in the dorm." Howie said, taking off his shirt. Suddenly there was a voice over the speakers. "Feed will be cut on in 5 minutes, please leave all of your clothes on until the clients pay to have them disposed of. Please insert the devices now." "That's an odd way to put it..." Howie muttered, pulling the t-shirt back on. "I guess we can make out and tease it." They each dropped their pants and helped each other shove the devices up each other’s holes. “I think I’ve heard of these things, they vibrate when someone donates. I hope we don’t have to fuck though,” he said feeling his awkwardly in his ass. “Seems like they would get in the...GNNNN.” Suddenly they both bent over double as the little machines began to vibrate and inch their way up inside of them somehow. The sensations were so powerful it brought them to their knees. “Fuck this thing went up past my prostate!” Chase shouted. Suddenly the screens turned on with a reminder to pull up their pants. A humming sound was activated somewhere in the building like a large machine had just been switched on. The countdown started as they made their way to the bed. 5...4...3...2...1… The two starting to stroke one another beneath their shirts and slid their hands in and out of their pants. "You're so fucking hot." Howie moaned. He knew the cam subscribers liked to hear sexy talk. Suddenly bells started to go off and they saw words flash on the screen. “KISS!” The devices in their asses began to vibrate and they felt an electric tingle going through their body. If they hadn’t been compelled to make out before, they REALLY wanted to now. “Can’t go wrong there!” Chase grabbed Howie by the shirt collar. “Pucker up, dude!” Chase said, then pressing his lips onto the jock. Instantly he could feel Howie’s tongue sliding past his own lips, which he was happy to reciprocate in return. The two hot boys started to get turned on as they continued playing tonsil hockey with each other. Chase’s underwear was getting snug as his dick got hard. It was much harder to not start ripping the clothes off Howie than he anticipated, he keep reminding himself that he was on a job. Then bells started going off again and a new word flashed on the screen. “PECS.” “Pecs?” Chase wondered, what did that mean. He didn’t have long to wait to find out. Their anal instruments vibrated again and their pecs began to feel the electric surge and suddenly their chests began to feel tighter, like the skin was stretching. Their pecs felt heavier. For some reason it took all of their will power to pull away from each other to check themselves out. “Holy shit what’s going on?” Chase shouted. “Fuck if I know!” Howie said grabbing his swolen pecs which pushed out his t-shirt more than he was used to. Then suddenly bells started going off in the room again and the screen flashed. “KISS! KISS! KISS!” With a quick series of vibrations from inside they felt their willpower to do anything but climb on top of each other and make out go away. The screen flashed “PECS ARMS SHOULDERS” and their cut torso’s began to swell with greater and greater definition. Their asses zinged with vibrations from the devices. Their meaty pecs continued to inflate, pressing against their skin tight t-shirts as the names of upper body muscles were popping up all over the screens. As much as they wanted to know what was happening, the occasional “KISS” command made them compelled to keep fencing with their tongues. Their t-shirts strained at the collar from bulging traps, delts, and pecs all pushing in opposite directions. Their sleeves were being strained to the extreme from their bulging biceps. It was just a matter of time until…. “RIIIIP” Their shirts fell apart from their gigantic upper bodies revealing bright red skin, a mixture of embarrassment and sexual flush. Yet they could not stop. As every single muscle in the torso was visibly undulating with their movements in a hypnotizing way. The bells rang on as the words on the screen were flashing “ASS ASS THIGH CALVE FEET ASS” The electrical sensations spread to their lower bodies as their cute bubble butts began to swell along with the rest of their lower halves. Their legs were quickly catching up to their chest and arms. Their asses were ripping the seams of their jeans, their feet were stretching their socks. Then suddenly the screen went wild with “COCK COCK COCK BALLS COCK COCK BALLS” and their junk started to swell and ache within the tight compartment they were confined in. Every time they pulled away from each other to re-adjust or see what was happening to them, the screen would flash “KISS” and they were compelled to press their muscular pecs together and lock lips. Howie felt his cock fighting to push out of the waistline of his pants but his swelling ass had made the gap impassible. Just when they felt like their balls were going to be crushed, their jeans gave way. Revealing absurdly stretched briefs. Their cocks quickly pushed up from the elastic. Soon it was apparent that the ball people had outbid the cock growth fans and the screen was just flashing “BALLS BALLS BALLS BALLS BALLS”. Chase felt his sack stretch as his meaty tennis balls popped out from either leg hole in his briefs. Howie’s had both popped out of the left side. Cum gushed from their emergent, veiny cocks as they rubbed into each other. With their balls swelling to the size of melons, drying up was not going to be a problem. A rich client from Texas had had enough. He paid four thousand dollars to control the board for thirty seconds. He was tired of those clingy briefs. The screen in the studio just read, “ASS QUADS ASS QUADS ASS QUADS KISS KISS” As they were glued together in a passionate embrace, they felt their bulbous glutes and quads vibrate so large that one by one the elastic on their desperate briefs snapped. Howie managed to find the mental strength to reach down and pull away the shattered remnants of his undies. Chase ground his groin into his massive friend until the last shreds of his briefs sluffed off like a cum soaked rag. They were gigantic, 350 lbs of muscle sandwiching two 14’’ cocks creaming up two perfectly sculpted chests. Suddenly the word, “NIPPLE” appeared. Followed by “NIPPLE PLAY”. Howie blew a jet of cum from the sensation of his nipples doubling, then tripling in size. He felt his hands reaching up to explore Chase’s which were growing as well. Returning the favor, his partner’s hand touched his own, and the sensation was so intense he shot so hard it splashed their chins. Their nipples were more sensitive than they’d ever been and with tongues down each other’s throat they both groaned in bliss. “HOWIE SUCK CHASE’S NIPPLE” Clearly someone with a new fetish had taken the reigns. As Howie lowered his face to those meaty pecs and licked and worshiped Chase’s right nipple. Chase moaned in bliss as he continued to tweak his friend. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Twenty miles away, back on campus a group of rich Frat boys at Alpha Sigma Sigma were bored and wondering how to kill some time. “You know what would be fun bro, there’s this crazy website where you can pay to do weird shit to some cam boys. Like anything you want to them. Wouldn’t it be dank to get on there and totally screw with the fags? No homo.” “I dunno bro, sounds pretty gay…” “Come on brah, it’ll be fun.” After some token resistance so that they could all talk about how straight they were, they all agreed and logged in. To their shock they found that they recognized the cam stars. Not from the camera feed, their bodies were too changed for that, but from the pictures on the side that showed what they originally looked like. “What the fuck dude it’s Howie and Chase… weren’t those the guys who came and got those ho’s who we were trying to get wasted the other day?” “Yeah… dude…”, said Trey. He had an unlimited credit card to use on ‘books’ and ‘meals’ that got autopayed by their parents. “Lets have some fun my bros.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back in the studio Chase was sucking Howie’s cock while tweaking his nipples, making the massive cam star go nuts. “Fuck Chase, what’s...gnnnnn… fuck…. happening… to us…” He was covering Chase’s face with spunk, as his massive cock gushed like a hose. Their spines had stretched as they had grown six inches taller since the beginning of the session. Suddenly the screen flashed with a new command. “EAT ASS” Howie felt the vibration compelling him to shove is face in between Chase’s giant ass cheeks. Chase groaned as he felt the tongue on his ass. When the bells started to ring, “ASS ASS ASS”. Howie could feel those monster glutes swelling around his face, unable to pull away as the giant ass grew out of proportion. Chase could hardly control himself as he reflexively squeezed his friend’s head. Someone was using the option to control them separately. “69 69 69 69 69 69” The screen flashed again and again. They mounted each other with their faces at pec level, since that’s where both of their massive cock heads were, unable to stop each other from blasting each other in the face with massive amounts of jizz. The volume of cum was so much that they could barely get their lips around each other’s slits as they tried to drink the flood of jizz. “CHASE FUCK HOWIE” Their asses vibrated with the new command. Howie couldn’t help himself as he thrust his ass in the air as Chase’s giant cock head pressed against that hole that had never taken a cock before. “God… please be gentle…” Howie muttered as the thick monster pushed its way inside of him. “UGNNNNNN” Howie groaned as his ass was stretched beyond anything he’d ever imagined. “HARDER HARDER HARDER” The screen flashed. Chase couldn’t help himself as he railed Howie against the bed. “FUCK FUCK FUCK” he grunted, spraying his friend’s insides with his jizz. Howie bit the pillow, unable to do anything but take it. “BELLY” Chase saw the command flash on the screen, wondering what it could mean. Howie’s gut distended a little as Chase went to down on his ass like he was churning butter. “BELLY BELLY BELLY” Those perfect abs faded as Howie’s gut began to swell out of control. “Fuck… gnnnn… what’s… fuck… happening…” He wrapped his muscular arms around that inflating belly balloon as the screen just kept flashing “BELLY” Soon his gut was so enormous that it was lifting him up off the bed and he couldn’t even wrap his arms around it. “PEC MILK PEC MILK PEC MILK” Howie felt his nipples growing even more as his pecs swelled until they were full and squishy. Chase bent over and squeezed them, causing thick milk to ooze out of them. “Fuck! Make it stop!” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “BRENT!” A voice shouted down the hall from the study, causing Brent Masterson to check the latest Wall Street Journal article. His wife burst in. “I just got an odd alert from Trey’s credit card. It’s showing over $20,000 for something called Stretch Studios! You think it’s fraud?” “Oh definitely,” he replied. “Doesn’t sound like something our son would do. Shut the account down and call them so we can get our money back. The number’s on the back.” His wife went to leave and then paused. “What are you doing all shut up in here?” “Oh… just taking a break from doing our taxes… so dull… can you handle the credit card for me?” “Sure sweety, you’re so smart with numbers.” She said walking out of the room. After the door shut behind him, Brent said to himself. “So that’s who’s been messing up my show… game over son.” He said as he switched back to the cam. “When you get your own money you can play with the big boys. Now lets fix my studs.” He paused for a moment and thought “Not everything you did was bad.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The screen flashed “CUT ABS SLIM ABS RIPPED ABS ABS ABS ABS” as Howie felt his gut shrinking back to a trim fit waist. Bells were ringing frantically. “GROW GROW GROW” Howie felt his entire body stretching as Chase continued to mount him and Milk his pecs. He was swelling, bigger and bigger. Seven feet, eight feet, nine feet. He could feel Chase’s nipples rubbing against his stretching skin as he seemed like a child in comparison and still Chase hung on and fucked away. Howie outgrew the bed, crushing it under his muscular two thousand pound body as Chase had to wrap his arms around under his shoulders to continue squeezing his pecs. He topped out at twelve feet, as tall as a one story house when the screens went dark, the strange humming sound dissipated, and the vibrations in the ass came to a screeching halt. The hour was over. Chase was gasping on Howie’s back, his face nestled between mounds of muscle. “Fuck Howie… how do we get back to the way we were?” “I… I guess they use the thingies inside us to turn us back.” Suddenly the door opened and Tim walked in the room clapping. “Bravo boys, you did so well!” “So… uh… can we go back to the way we were now?” Howie said. “Of course my dears, you just have to outbid the people who changed you.” He pulled up a tablet. “As per your contract, use of the body modification unit is solely doled out to paying customers. Howie you can go back for $56,000 and Chase you can revert for $42,000.” “But we don’t have that kind of cash!” They shouted. Tim smiled. “Well… I know how you could earn it.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If you liked this story, let me know. Hit "like" or leave a comment. Your feedback is how I know what gets you guys revved up.
  21. MegaMassiveMuscleMonster

    Julia Grows

    Calling Adrianna Stone a phenomenon simply did not do her body justice. She has completely and effortlessly dwarfed even the most muscular and freaky male heavyweight bodybuilders for the last 25 years. She was hulked to the max, sitting at around 400lbs in the offseason. There were multiple men, mainly strongmen competitors, who weighed the same or more than she did. But they were all also usually at least 6" taller, and her 6 foot tall body was much, MUCH more musclebound and better proportioned. She was gaining more mass every year, losing maybe only 20 pounds during her competition prep, always retaining her muscular gains.Every muscle in her body was overstuffed and straining for more growth- and so was her clit. At 8 inches long, it was bigger than some men's penises. Adrianna was a cougar personified. At 50 years old, she spent many nights after her competitions having the young studs and muscle-barbies she'd demolished try to please her insane libido. She was a massive, ultra-muscular behemoth of strength and size, and the entire world looked upon her in awe and lust. The entire human race worshiped the ground she walked on, with a tinge of fear. Tonight though, she was earnestly worshipping the monstrous muscles of the sole exception to that rule. Julia Ingrisano has turned 18 last month. She was beautiful without comparison; sparkling mischief-filled green eyes, silky smooth firey red hair, a dazzling white smile, high, rosy cheeks and kissable, red bee-stung lips. All perfectly placed on her angelic face. Her complexion was near perfect, her Irish and Italian heritages giving her a skin a healthy, soft golden glow, along with freckles dotted around her cute button nose. She fit the expression "face painted by God," to a tee. Julia was also a monster. Despite being just over 5 feet tall, this gorgeous beauty queen carried more than three times Adrianna's already unbelievable mass. Today was leg day, and Julia was doing back squats. She had borrowed a bulldozer from a construction site, and had it balanced across shoulders that were almost twice as wide as she was tall. Adrianna couldn't fit her arms around even one of Julia's gargantuan calf muscles, let alone her thighs. Thighs that swelled larger by inches with every strained rep that Julia pumped out. Erotic, lust filled moans filled the air around the construction site. Every sound from the mega-muscled teen distracting the workers from their jobs as they all stopped to watch this behemoth bulk her muscles up to an even larger more massive size. Adrianna's hands were desperately fondling Julia's monolithic wall of abs. They withered crazily with every breath. Even this freak's individually sliced obliques made Adrianna's gigantic pecs look malnourished. "Get bigger ," breathlessly whispered Adrianna. Julia was shaking from effort. At the apex of her final squat, she let out a high pitched shriek as she powered the machine up over head and began shoulder pressing the bulldozer again and again. Before Adrianna's adoring eyes, this super-human teen muscle-goddess began to add even more breadth to her delts, and lats. Her medicine ball sized pecs eclipsed her face completely, swelling to the size of bean bag chairs. Her traps and shoulders had long since risen above her head, squeezing around it with every press. "Fuuuck." Adrianna had tears and mascara running down her face as she watched this impossible muscle-goddess swell even larger. "I want you even bigger," Adrianna breathed. "You'll never be too massive for me. Grow for me..."Julia let out a earthshaking grunt as her pussy squirted her love juices with a terrifying force that forced Adrianna to her knees. She could have filled a bathtub with her juices. The scent of her musk sending the construction workers into a frenzy, more than a few fell into a lust-fueled coma. Adrianna had an orgasm as well. With her record-setting muscle, and giant fake tits, she was a well known porn-star- but barley worth mentioning next to Julia's titanic size, tremendous beauty and cosmic sexual energy.Julia kept military-pressing the giant bulldozer through her seemingly endless string of continuous orgasms. Her model shaming face twisted in a mix of pain and pleasure, her eyes rolling back in her head as her juices flowed down massive jutting quads and hamstrings.After several minutes, her pussy-lips stopped throbbing, just a little. She shifted the bulldozer into just her right hand, and continued pressing it. Mind-blowing shoulders creaked even broader and higher, her head now smooshed up against them even at the bottom of the reps. Julia was grimacing- or grinning? "Can't stop growing," she whispered softly. Her flood gates opened again, a pool of cum now forming around Adrianna who had fallen unconscious at the sight of such overwhelming size. "What a pity," thought Julia. "I'm just starting to feel the pump." The absurdly muscular beast that was Julia Ingrisano was only just getting started. *This is an adapted shorty story from @powerfulbodies (now deactivated) tumbler account. All credit for the plot is his!
  22. before writing the first chapter, i warmed up a little writing this, which i wasn't originally planning to share. but here you go, after all, it wouldn't be nonsense enough otherwise Prologue Janet loved teasing me about finding a boyfriend. “I’m telling you, there’s no way.” “Never say never.” Sometimes I regret telling her I am gay. I feel like she ships me more than my desire for man. It only doubled with me joining the college. “Did you learn who’s your roommate?” she asked intently. “Yes, and I don’t think you will still be interested when I tell the name.” “Oh, don’t tease me like that!” What? I wasn’t teasing her. Ugh, girls are weird. “It’s Dean, from highschool, remember?” For a few vivid seconds her excited smile stood put. Then it slumped down, not to a disappointment or something but sheer hard time remembering. “So you don’t remember.” “At least not who he was. But there was a guy named Dean… was he a guy…” Of course he was! Don’t you have any common sense? “It’s normal for you to forget him — or maybe you may not even have known him at the first place. He wasn’t the type to stand out, the exact opposite actually.” “So — he was sitting at the background, silently eyeing us?” Don’t make it look like an anime cliche! But yeah, that was true. “Maybe he got superpowers!” “That only happens at movies,” I said. There was no way, no way, for him to have superpowers. Without a single doubt and at maximum certainty I could say this was going to be just your average roommate. After all, it’s not as if we were in a forum story! “You know, I can’t help but ship the silent types,” she said excitedly. Hopeless! Anyway, I stood up from my cafe chair. “I need to get going. It’s getting late, and I still didn’t settle to my room.” “Say hi to him for me.” “No.” The girl and male dormitories were very close. I was sure I was going to see her at my threshold often. When I entered the room, Dean was already laid on the top bunk, indifferent to my presence. He was engulfed in blankets, I couldn’t see how he looked like now. “Do you remember me?” I asked. He didn’t answer. Okay then, it was getting late after all. No need to lose the time with introductions. After setting my pc, I lied down onto the lower bed. There was a single bedlamp lighting dimly the entire room. I held the pull switch, but then remembered — “Uh right, nearly forgot to mention,” I yawned, “Janet said hi.” “Huh?” Then, darkness.
  23. Ozymandias

    Entelechy (Part 2 added 20/10)

    Hi all, here's the first part of my second story: Entelechy. It's quite different from my first, Control; this story is set in futuristic universe. I won't spoil the details, but suffice it to say that I have conceived of the world in this story as a realistic future for humanity. It'll have plenty of growth, muscle worship and all that lovely stuff, alongside plenty of exploration of the psychology of muscle addiction, but some of the exposition is also designed to be thought-provoking about society, politics and what the future may hold. If you're more interested in the muscle, then fear not - you won't be disappointed! But if you like to be challenged, this story will have a little bit extra for you. Part 1 doesn't have much growth; it's largely outlining our main character. But there will be a hell of a lot of muscle to come, I can tell you that. Entelechy: a word used by Aristotle, 'the state of something that is fully realised'. ---- Entelechy: Part 1 He stood amongst the heaving crowd, almost suffocated by the thronging masses. Blessed with neither notable height nor width, the Youth struggled to get a glimpse of the public screen. There was a ripple through the crowd; a fortunate shift in its arrangement afforded him an unbroken line of sight to watch the spectacle unfold. The screen - an anachronism, since it was actually a one-dimensional holographic projection - showed the Emperor seated upon the Eternal Throne. Clad in his usual impenetrable attire (mask, robes and cloak of black and red), he contrasted with the white, gold and ocean blue of the Throne. A ceremonial guard of Imperial Guardsmen, great staves held straight, lined the gilded walkway leading to the Throne. A number of attendants - various High Councillors and military officials - were clustered around the Throne. The crowd held its breath as the camera panned to show the great entrance doors to the Throne Room, which silently slid open to reveal an alien, surrounded by five Guardsmen arranged in a pentagon around him. The alien looked somewhat reptilian, dressed in fine armour...but the splendour did not conceal the humiliation readable in its posture. “And there he is,” continued the commentator, “Val’syth, Sovereign of the now-subjugated Farith Empire, come to pay homage to our Immortal Emperor.” The people around the Youth jeered at the defeated alien monarch, as his party walked towards the Throne. The camera panned behind them, showing the alien trudging towards the Emperor, who sat unmoved and impassive. The Guardsmen, and the alien, came to a halt at the base of the dais upon which the Throne sat. Two Guardsmen then tore off Val’syth’s ornate armour, throwing it to the floor, followed by his undergarments. In mere moments he stood naked before the Emperor. The crowd’s jeering came to a tense tense halt as they watched the defeated alien stand motionless...before erupting into jubilant cheers as he prostrated himself before the Emperor, forehead touching the cold metal floor. “And there’s the proskynesis, the ceremonial submission before the Emperor,” resumed the commentator. “The act symbolises...” He zoned out the both commentator and the cheers. He did belong amongst these mindless automatons who went about their life. He was different. He couldn’t quite place how, only that he was. He did not fit in the Grand Society; its norms and expectations were…restrictive to him. He would not - could not - conform. Instead, he would leave them all in the dust, revelling in his excess. Let the rebellion begin, he thought to himself. *** He had never felt like he belonged. Not quite ostracised from the Society, but not quite part of it either. In creating the Society three centuries ago, the Emperor had adopted an effective organising framework: within set boundaries, you were free to do what you wished - but cross those boundaries, and the Society exiled you. Moderation was the ruling tenet: most ‘vices’ were acceptable, in moderation. Sex, drink, food, drugs, partying; as long as you kept the habits under control, it was not the Society’s concern. But indulge them to excess, and the Society would quickly sanction you. Assuming the legal order of the Society didn’t formally intervene to redeem you, that is. But that moderation did not appeal to him. It was stale, lifeless - mass-produced. Moderation was easy, and boring. Where was the joy in moderation? Throughout his teenage years, this internal conflict had grown and festered, eventually crystallising into a need to break free, to rebel. His first act upon completing school had been to leave his home city of Copenhagen, crossing the sea to the much-larger Capital - the Eternal City. With a population of 25 million, it was the largest city on Terra. Surely he’d find ways to rebel there? The Society quickly provided him with an apartment (all housing was state-provided, of course), and he’d settled in, but then things had...stalled. Wanting to rebel was all well and good, but how does one go about actually doing it? He’d tried the Lower City, where all the ‘cultural establishments’ were. It had been fun at first, immersing himself in the permanent carnival-atmosphere of the clubs and bars, but it soon became clear that they too all worshipped at the altar of Moderation. He could have over-indulged in drink, drugs and sex but that was not rebellion - that was self-destruction and would achieve nothing. No, he had to be more subtle in his rebellion - and thus pose a far greater challenge to the Society. Undermine the tenet of Moderation, and be revered for it. Excess. But again: how? Within weeks of arriving he felt as lost as ever, his ‘rebellion’ failing before it could even get started. It was depressing. He felt lonely and dejected. Perhaps this rebellion had, afterall, been a stupid idea borne of an immature mind. He could’ve got a job, perhaps (almost all menial or simple work was done by robots, but there were still plenty of jobs where a human touch was liked), but he felt no need to; the Basic Income more than covered his needs. Thus it was that the Youth found himself wandering into a new establishment he had not yet visited, seeking inspiration. He was startled to realise he’d stumbled into a male orgy club, decorated like a Classical symposium: low couches and tables, carved stone columns and walls decorated with reliefs. A statue of Apollo and Hyacinthus, their hands intertwined, stood in the centre. He could make out another floor above. The patrons, in varying degrees of intoxication, were engaging in passionate group sex on the sumptuous couches. He walked through the establishment, studying the men he passed. All conventionally attractive and identically built in the Society’s ideal: athletic and toned, but not muscular or ponderous. Lithe, graceful: a useful body. The Youth himself had such a body. Some of the older men were more saggy, but still fit. This was, of course, simply the old Classical ideal...as part of the Society’s construction, many of the values and ideas of the Ancients had been studiously revived and systematically applied. None of the men interested him. It was not that they were unattractive, but rather they screamed moderation. There was nothing deviant about them; body, hairstyles, clothes (where worn). Even this orgy was moderation; he doubted any of the patrons attended more than a couple of times a month. Everywhere was order; the establishment was a Temple to Self-Control. Credit to the Emperor, the Youth thought. His Society works. Further into the establishment, there were numerous warmly-lit alcoves for more intimate encounters. They were likewise filled with oh-so-boring Servants of Moderation. He had just about given up hope of finding any trace deviance when he glanced into the final alcove. His breath caught in his throat and his stomach fluttered. At last. Seated in the alcove was the biggest man the Youth has ever seen. Not in terms of height (he was ordinary in that regard), but of width. Of mass. Of muscle. His body hung heavy with bulging muscle; he was no longer athletic. No, most of that muscle was useless. An obstacle to human grace. It was instead the body of excess. A Servant of Moderation straddled the man’s crotch, taking his manhood inside of him, while he ravenously devoured the man’s flexed arm, savouring the swollen muscles with lips and tongue. The man’s head was thrown back in pleasure, eyes closed, softly moaning. The Youth was rooted to the spot as a curious rush flowed through his mind. It was as if the disparate pieces of a previously hidden jigsaw puzzle had suddenly come together, inspired by the man of excess before him. In an instant, the fog cleared and his path became clear. The man of excess had shown him the way to rebel - how to subvert the Society. The next morning, he changed his gym routine.
  24. Ozymandias

    Control (Part 5 added 25/05)

    Hi all, this is my first bash at putting up a story. Part 1 is a little on the short side, but serves as the introduction. I write primarily for fun, but enjoy the process (when writer's block doesn't strike, that is) - so any and all feedback is very much appreciated. Part 1: The Hunger He can't stop growing. Not that he wanted to, of course. He was addicted. It always ends up that way. The hunger is dormant at first, biding its time. Like many appetites (or should I say addictions?), it requires a trigger - a first taste. That first taste of muscle is like nothing else after; it stays with him forever. Often it’s a cartoon, featuring some character growing more muscular. Depending on the when he first imbibes, it may not even arouse him...merely intrigue - fascinate - him, for reasons he can’t yet grasp. But the hunger is awakened, and over time it starts to make itself known. Almost subconsciously, he will begin to seek out more. The hunger is insidious, and insatiable. Inevitably, it enslaves them. With each indulgence, it only grows more voracious. Stories of growth are joined by videos of bodybuilders; but the hunger soon demands more. He then joins a gym, and starts to grow, clothes tightening and giving way. Yet still the hunger is not satisfied. Each fall, deeper and deeper into the addiction, is easier to stomach than the last. It starts becoming easier to embrace the hunger. At first he resists the allure of steroids, but that resistance falters when the growth slows. As it happens, the ones who resist tend to perform the best; those who give in early often self-destruct, which just cuts short the pleasure. Inevitably, he succumbs to the promise of more, and faster, growth. Another fall. It will be followed by more - stacking numerous drugs, again and again. By this point, the hunger is all that’s left. Day and night revolve around feeding it. Such an innocent beginning. Such a glorious end. *** He is wanking furiously, pleasuring himself with dreams of enormity. His pecs - heaving as he grunts and groans - are so bloated he can’t reach his arm around to properly grasp his cock, forcing him to violently buck his hips. The chair is smothered by his mass, and creaks ominously with each thrust. His grotesquely swollen body glistens with sweat from the exertion (it’s hard work moving that much mass), filling the screen through which I watched him. He is monstrous. He is beautiful. His face - which looks comically small and awkwardly placed atop his body - is the sole remaining physical hint of what he once was. Boyishly handsome, dirty blond hair and brown eyes. Even contorted in pleasure - as much mental as physical - he remains handsome. That face is all that’s left of the days when he was a mere 120lbs at 5’7”. Today, he tipped the scales at 287lbs. I gave him a smile, to show I was happy with how far he’d come. “You’ve grown into quite the big boy!” I comment. He thrusts and groans as he hears my compliment. Something in the chair breaks. His shoulders are too broad to fully fit in the screen, and with each stroke of his hand striations ripples across the deltoid heads. His arms are swollen with power, each the size of his head, with the intersections of the deltoids and biceps etched in stone. My mouth salivates at the sight of them. Below the pec shelf, so heavy it sags, comes his rock-hard abdomen, with eight thick abdominal blocks carved in splendid relief, as if my a master sculptor. Framing his engorged manhood are splayed quads thicker than my waist (by several inches), the hugely overdeveloped heads of muscle flexing slightly with each buck of his hips. Between his moans - and dreams of being so much bigger - he manages to whisper: “More...please, more…” I cock my head teasingly, pretending not to have heard him. In truth, though, his question has deeply affected me. Tears almost come to my eyes. I can’t help but admire the hundreds of pounds of perfect, beautifully overgrown muscle desperately fighting for space on his tortured body. He has pushed it hard, punishingly so...but it did the only thing it could do: balloon, and balloon, and balloon, with muscle. He can easily go further. How much further? I don’t know. But we both want to find out. Poor boy. So desperate, and oh so so hungry. He’s gone so far. “Please!” he pleads, he begs, between frantic thrusts. His eyes crying out to me. “Make me bigger!” It’s curious. He knows he’s a freak, a monster. And yet, he doesn’t. He sees the great mountains of muscle he has grown, but doesn’t quite comprehend them. He never thought he could come so far, but he cannot imagine stopping now. It’s a vicious - or perhaps virtuous, depending on your viewpoint - cycle. Growth simply spurs the desire - the need - for more. A feedback loop of transitory pleasure. Each fix sets the stage for the next. It does not end. But that is what makes it oh so glorious. I smile again, a tear flowing this time. Such a beautiful, eager boy. He is a wonder to behold. “I think that can be arranged,” I reply. He explodes.
  25. I know it's been a long time and frankly, I haven't been inspired to write very much. However, I recently received a message from someone on this site with a idea for a new story. As we chatted, I started to get an idea. Once I started writing, I realized the potential these ideas had. All that being said, I think this might be my best story yet but I'll let you be the judge. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Introducing Jacob... High School Chapter 1 It was the first day of senior year and Jacob wasn’t looking forward to it. It would be his first day at a new school for the third time in five years. Thanks to his dad getting yet another new job, he was starting all over once again. Not that Jacob really minded. He didn’t have many friends from his old schools to miss and wasn’t really looking to make new ones either. He had only one real priority, becoming as big as humanly possible. Jacob was undeniably the biggest 18 year old on the planet and if he wasn’t, he was certainly well on his way to becoming the biggest. Ever since he was elementary school, Jacob was obsessed with building muscle. It immediately became an obsession and consumed most of his time. When he wasn’t lifting huge weights, he was devouring insane quantities of food. His parents happily supported his choice because it made their many moves easier, as long as they moved his weights, Jacob never complained. By the time he started junior high, Jacob could lift weights only veteran bodybuilders dreamed they could. In fact, to compare Jacob to a bodybuilder would be inaccurate, he desired to become something beyond what the most decorated professionals could ever dream of obtaining. He would scour the internet trying to find someone that had achieved the level of mass he was determined to obtain. Even freaks like Craig Goliath and Big Ramy were too small and weak to Jacob. He often turned to skillfully crafted morphs and artwork of fictional muscular giants just to get additional motivation. Jacob woke up at 5 a.m. this morning so he could workout for two hours before school. He was dreading having to be stuck in class instead of spending the entire day working out. In the month since they had moved in, Jacob had done little else but lift. Aside from the odd trip to the grocery store, he hadn’t spent any time exploring his new town. Stepping out of the shower, Jacob couldn’t help but admire his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He knew he would be the biggest kid at school but he didn’t care, to him, he was still too small. He dropped his towel and slowly raised his arms into a magnificent double bicep pose. He let out a low moan as he reached the full flex. He marvelled at his swollen biceps. He measured them after his gruelling workout at 22”. While he cursed himself about the number not being 24” earlier, he could not deny at this moment, his arms looked downright freaky attached to his 18 year old face. After a minute holding the pose, his arms were shaking but as more thick veins appear on his paper-thin skin, he couldn’t stop flexing. In his mind, he envisioned his arms surpassing his 28” waist. It was only moments later that he released the pose to grab hold of his raging cock. His intense muscle-lust coupled with his teenage sex drive resulted in this scene quite often. As Jacob stoked his cock, he caressed his bloated pecs. He kneaded the thick slabs of beef as the individual muscle fibres twitched and flexed. At 56”, his massive pecs cast a long shadow over his chiselled ads. With one final flex of his entire upper body, Jacob unleashed a thick stream of cum all over the mirror. “Fuck, this school won’t believe their eyes” he said as he cleaned off some stray cum from his pecs and abs. Jacob gabbed a clean tank top and audibly struggled to get it over his wide shoulders and lats. Even thought he tank was only a couple of weeks old, it already looked to be stretched to its limits. Next, he grabbed a very short pair of shorts that looked more like boxer briefs than outer wear. Jacob may not have cared wheat people thought of his body, but he certainly didn’t mind showing it off. After fixing his hair in the mirror, Jacob hit a mild most muscular pose. He heard a seam pop on his tank top and decided it was best to get going before he had to find something else to wear. During his 10 minute walk to school, Jacob consumed two huge protein shakes and ate five protein bars. Just before he reached the front door, he looked down at his exposed quads and calves. He was immediately transfixed by the incredible pump his calves had gotten from the walk. He stopped to flex his left calf and couldn’t help moan as it swelled to a mind-boggling 21”. Thick rope-like veins covered every inch. He couldn’t help but run is hand over his outrageously massive quad, stopping to squeeze the bloated tear-drop muscle that literally hung over his tiny kneecap. “Ok, enough of that. Time to prepare for the main event.” He said to himself as he opened the school main door and stepped inside. “Holy Shit!” “Oh my god!” “Look at that FREAK!” “Gross, that’s so DISGUSTING” Just a few of the comments Jacob heard before he was 10 feet into the building. One guy walked into an open locker door and hit his head pretty hard. With a confident smirk on his face, Jacob walked down the hall searching for his homeroom class. These reactions were nothing new to Jacob. In fact, he had learned to feed off them years ago. Next to using his insane strength and pumping his muscles well beyond their limits, seeing people freak out over his size was Jacob’s favourite thing. The first time he was called a freak really upset him. But as it continued to happen and with increased frequency the more he grew, Jacob realized that it meant he was starting to achieve his dream of becoming a true mass monster. The more disgusted people became the more motivated and quite frankly, aroused he became. Soon, Jacob wasn’t satisfied unless people became physically sick at the site of him. He loved cumming while replaying people’s over-the-top comments in his head. He also fantasied about getting those same reactions in the presence of the biggest professional bodybuilders. Imagining Big Ramy puking just at the sight of his unflexed body caused Jacob to cum the most. By the time he found his classroom, news of the freaky huge new kid had spread to all corners of the school. As he stepped through the door, all talking stopped. Jacob surveyed the room of his slack-jawed school mates as he slowing made his way to the back of the room. Everyone stared in awe but no one dared to make a sound. The teacher looked confused when he walked in to a full room of silent teenagers. It wasn’t until he looked to the back of the class that he figured out why. “Oh my! You must be Jacob!” He stammered. “They said you were big but I didn’t expect so much-“ “Huge, freaky muscle?” Jacob interrupted. The teacher’s mouth remained open, but words stopped coming out. A minute later, he had regained enough composure to instruct the class to find their seats. After the students were seated, the teacher looked to the back of the room to see Jacob still standing. “Um-please find a seat.” He said to Jacob. “Sorry Teach but I don’t think these desks are made for someone like me.” “Please sit.” The teacher said, trying to sound authoritative but it came out sounding scared and timid. Jacob shook his head and tried to sit at the nearest desk. The entire class turned their heads and watched as the massive boy struggled to get seated. Loud creaks filled the room as Jacob’s massive body wedged itself into the seat. The desks were the table-top seat combos that offered very little in the way of adjustment. Jacob could barely fit his meaty quads in the gap between the seat and the desk. He tried for close to 30 seconds before becoming frustrated. Suddenly his fist slammed down on the top of the desk, cracking it instantly. Jacob then gripped the wooden desk and plastic seat and started to pull. His already bloated body exploded in size. There were audible gasps from the class. Jacob adjusted his grip and let out a low roar and pulled harder. With seemly little effort, the plastic seat was torn off the metal frame of the desk. Jacob tossed the seat and repositioned his hand on the metal frame. There was a load groan of screeching metal and the frame started to bend. Jacob’s arms visibly inflated and each individual muscle fibre leap into action. Jacob’s ridiculously wide back appeared to double in size as he continued to bend the metal frame like it was wet pasta. With one final grunt and tug, Jacob stood straight up and the desk disintegrated around him. He stepped out of the pile of desk parts and placed his hands on his hips. “Told you the desk wasn’t made for this body.” He said and slowly flexed into a front lat spread. Slowly his lats expanded until they jutted three feet from his sides. They only stopped swelling when they made contact with his equally massive arms and forearms. Next, his pecs rose upward and outward. Deep striations and countless veins snaked across they surface. Even under the tight tank top fabric, veins could been seen pulsing. Finally, Jacob’s traps rose up either side of his neck as his quads and calves flexed so huge, there was barely any separation between them. At full flex, Jacob could hear loud screams and gags from the students in the room. Many had to look away in horror while others were clearly mortified at the sight they could not stop watching. Jacob turned to look a the teacher who was visible shaking and leaning against his desk to stop himself from collapsing on the floor. “Oh my god! Please stop!” the teacher muttered. “Sorry teach, I couldn’t hear you. Did you say come up the front of the class and show everyone just how insanely massive I am?” Jacob replied and slowly made his way towards the front of the class. It’s fair to say, Jacob always moved slowly, due mainly by the size of his quads. To even call how he moved walking was inaccurate; Jacob waddled. Arriving at the front of the class, Jacob turned to face the class. He pointed to a skinny kid sitting in the first row and motioned for him to approach. Jacob raised his arms and leaned forward. “Strip off this tank top. It’s pretty new and the only shirt I have. I want to try to make it last the whole day.” The poor kid was shaking like a leaf. “Come on dude. My lats are WAY too big for me to get this off myself. Don’t worry, I won’t bite; unless I get hungry.” Jacob said with a chuckle. Slowly the kid started to peel the skin tight tank top up Jacob’s back. When it was halfway up Jacob was growing impatient. “SOMEONE HELP HIM!” he yelled. Another petrified student joined the first kid and within seconds the tank top was pulled over Jacob’s head. Once free, he slowly stood back up and the class was confronted by his exposed upper body and a new wave to terrified screams filled the room. “This is what a 267lb 18 year old looks like. I’m only 5’8” but getting pretty close to being just as wide as that.” Jacob said and started to hit flawless poses each one accompanied by grunts, moans and exaggerated gasps. “No 18 year old has 22” arms, 18” forearms, 56” pecs and a tiny 28” waist. Not to mention some of the biggest quads on the planet. Check out these 32” quads and 21” calves.” “So Gross!” Someone yelled out. “Gross? You think all this muscle is gross. You know what I think it is? SMALL. I’m plan to doubling this size in a couple of years!” Jacob said. He was breathing hard from hitting the different poses but saved the best for last. He extended his pumped left leg and leaned closer to the class. He slowly bent his arms and started to hit a most muscular pose. His already blood-filled body exploded in every direction. Jacob showed incredible muscle control and he willed each muscle group to flex and expand. His arms slammed into his flexed pecs as his shoulders solidified into pumpkin-sized striated bolders. His vein-covered traps rose to graze his ears as his neck thickened to become wider than his head. He tightened his already rock-hard abs so each developed muscle resembled the density of bricks. His shorts could not contain the monstrous beef of his quads and rose up so high it looked like a posing suit. Even with his legs spread apart, Jacobs calves looked like they were about to touch each other. At full flex, Jacob’s entire body was shaking. His skin now covered in the light layer of sweat which made his outrageous vascular look even more extreme. He let out a glass-shaking roar and he somehow continued to flex. Through gritted teeth he screamed “I’m not stopping until someone either pukes or passes out.” Most of the kids were screaming and covering their eyes. A few looked like they were ready to faint and more than one of the boys held their hands over their obvious erections. Still not seeing what he desired most, Jacob let out another scream as his flexed muscles were starting to cause him pain. A pain that pushed him to flex even harder. He slowly turned to face the teacher, who was cowering behind his desk. With one laboured step Jacob moved closer. He could see the terror in the teacher’s face. “DO IT!” He commanded and within seconds, the teacher bent over and puked all over the top of his desk. He stood up and stumbled back, slamming into the chalkboard before collapsing on the floor. As Jacob relaxed his pose he smiled as he realized the teacher had a large wet stain on the front of his pants. His recently spent erection was clearly still rock-hard. Jacob tuned to face the class once more. He picked his tank top off a nearby desk and waddled towards the back of the class. “Is homeroom over yet?”
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