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  1. musclelovingtwink

    muscle growth Addicted

    Chapter 1 When I met Dane, he wasn’t exactly what you’d call normal. Even at that time in his early twenties, he was 6’3” and well over 200 pounds of shredded muscle. We worked out at the same gym. I fit my workouts in around my university schedule, but it seemed like whatever time I went, there he was, dripping with sweat and lifting some ungodly weight. Within the first week of my working out there, he had met my eyes more than once and smiled as he noticed the slack-jawed expression I usually had while I was ogling at his feats of inhuman strength. One Friday night, he stopped in the middle of a set to come right up to me. “You like what you see, man?” he said, flexing an incredible bicep in front of my face for emphasis. It had a perfect split peak and the striations were beautifully visible through his paper-thin skin. “Y-Yeah.” I managed to say. Struggling to tear my eyes away from the immense arm and to look him in the eye. He smiled even wider, showing off a set of perfect, straight, white teeth. Aside from the physique of a god, his jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes made him the absolute picture of beauty. “Good,” he said, “Because I’m gonna be the biggest there ever was.” He stretch out his hand and shook the limp appendage that was my arm. “I’m Dane.” “Lachie.” I replied. What happened next is still a complete haze to me, but the next thing I remember I was in the locker room being fucked senseless by the most perfect Adonis I’d ever seen. Looking past my own face reflected in the mirror as I gripped the sink, I saw the golden god of a man. Like me, his eyes saw nothing but himself. Both his and my gaze raked every shredded inch of his torso. His perfect 8-pack abs crunched with every thrust, beads of sweat rolling over the deep clefts between them. There wasn’t so much as a hint of fat on his whole body, yet his pecs were so thick and so rounded that they hung over the top of his abs, casting a shadow down. In that moment I wished I’d been born a contortionist just so that I could suck the perfect broad nipples that hung below those pecs while he kept fucking me. I felt his hands dig into my sides, knowing bruises would absolutely be there within minutes. The sudden flex telling me he was close to climax. I looked into his face and he spared me the briefest of glances. Sweat dragged his perfect, dark wavy hair down until it just teased in front of his eyes. His lips twisted into a cocky half-grin accentuated by his inhumanly square jaw, and I felt his monstrous cock explode inside me. It truly felt like a bomb going off deep inside me. How one man could hold that much cum inside him seemed impossible, and he didn’t strike me as someone who had dry streaks. He had to take a good step back to pull all 11 inches of still-hard, tremendously thick meat out of me. I slumped onto a nearby bench, absolutely wrecked while he stood for a second still admiring himself in the mirror. The man had just done a workout that would turn the strongest of men to jelly then spent a solid ten minutes ploughing me with the force of a jackhammer and he wasn’t even winded. It only just occurred to me how in the blur of passion I’d let this guy fuck me in the open in a very public bathroom. I was shocked at the lack of interruption, but blushing furiously I realised the amount of noise I’d made had probably warned people not to come in. Hell, it had probably warned people a block away. Still buck naked, Dane strutted past me to open up a locker. God his ass was so huge, round and striated that, had I not been completely devoid of the energy to move, I probably would’ve sunk my teeth in. He swung a leg over the bench I sat on, bearing his still rock-hard cock right in my face. Saying “balls the size of chicken’s eggs” strikes me as cliched, but I’m gonna be honest here, if your chicken was laying eggs this size you’d have your face in a record book. They slung under his cock and just laid out on the bench. “You don’t mind do you?” he asked, and breaking eye contact with his dick (with some effort) I noticed he had a needle and a small vial in his hands. Without waiting for an answer, he drew on the needle and filled it with a clear, faintly pink fluid from the vial before plunging it straight into one of the enormous testicles sitting in front of him. I’m not afraid to say I flinched, a lot. As the plunger of the needle dropped, I swear to god, I watched veins spring up over the surface of the massive ball, and snake their way up the thick shaft. I can’t attest as to whether he was fully hard when he shot up with the strange liquid, but as the veins sprang out from his cock, it definitely throbbed just a little larger. He laughed in that beautiful deep voice. “Sorry about that, but right after is the best time to do it.” He looked at the look of shock and awe on my face and grinned again. “This is some secret shit, real experimental,” he said tapping the vial with a broad finger. “Don’t tell anyone, I wouldn’t want to have to hurt you.” I looked up at him with more shock, and less awe, and he gave me a quick wink. He stood up and turned back to the locker. Once again I was struck, not only by the sheer perfection that was his ass, but also by just how wide his lats were. The man had to be at least three times as wide as me. I noticed the odd protrusion of his veins was still spreading over his form, albeit less intensely than it had at the point of impact. He pulled a pair of white briefs on that struggled to leave anything to the imagination, in fact, the waistband couldn’t match the tightness of his waistline, as his immense cock and balls pulled it forwards. He pulled on some loose gym shorts and an even looser stringer and strutted towards the exit. He turned back at the door, glancing over vein-covered traps to call back to me. “I put my number in your phone, text me.” I looked at the pile on the floor where I’d left my clothes to see my phone sitting neatly on top. Putting aside the fact that it was pin protected, and I hadn’t seen him have any time to do so, I found a new entry in my contacts under “Dane – BF.” I had no idea what the hell had just happened or what I’d got into, so I just pulled my clothes on, and avoiding the stares of everyone in the gym as I made the walk of shame, I headed home to pass out.
  2. Heya y'all! It's my first time actually posting anything on this site (that i can remember, at least) and the first time I try my hand at writing this kind of story. but since I read a lot of content from lots of authors both from here and from the previous website, I figured it was time to give a small fraction of it back. Fair warning; English isn't my mothertongue, so any mistakes are entirely mine! Without further ado, here's part one! I hope you'll enjoy it. Male Hunger Part one The humid air of his room had gotten warmer. Bran huffed and licked his lips, tasting the salty sweat racing down his head, hips rocking, his wide hands wildly jerking off his thick cock. He groaned lowly, racking a cum-covered palm through his short hair and started slapping his dick on his 6-pack, splashing precum everywhere. After a few beats, his heavy balls surged higher.. And Bran stopped, out of breath, hands off his penis, his body tensing, muscles flexing hard to keep himself from cumming. After a few long seconds, he brought a veiny hand to his mouth and licked the pre off his thick fingers, one after the other. The taste of pre and the weight of each rough fingers in his mouth had him shuddering so much his eyes closed. Bran roughly pinched his nips and grunted quite loudly as saliva filled his mouth. His other hand skimmed down his thick pecs, along the valleys of his abs, to finally grasp at his thick shaft. He fisted his dick and – the immediate, overwhelming pleasure had him gasping out and snorting air back in, nostrils wide, hips pumping- he distantly recognized the potent scent of his own musky sweat and semen, different, stronger than ever before – He needed more. “Fuuck…,” he growled out, kicking his muscled legs further apart. He needed just a bit more. His other hand left his fluid-covered pecs to tug at and massage his bloated balls, the sensations shooting up sparks up his body. They felt so good, so full, he threw his head back on his pillow; his pre-covered hair coating them. He rocked his hips harder, the sound of his bed hitting the wall getting louder. He distantly heard some of his dorm neighbors hit the wall back but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a single fuck; his attention solely focused on pleasuring his thick, weeping cock. “Fuck!,” he snarled, teeth bared, as release started sweeping through his body. He tensed ever more, both hands tight on his shaft now, tense, striated pecs protruding more and hiding the root of his dick. Not that it mattered; his eyes were focused on the way his cock thickened even more, despite the two fists holding it. Long moments passed, during which his heavy balls, usually hanging low, pulled up and sent its fiery magma up. Bran panted wildly, wide eyes almost rolling backwards, as the first load of semen burst out and arched up the wall behind him, almost splashing on the wall. Some of the thick magma dropped back down and landed on his face, in his mouth, in his hair and on his pecs. After a few tense seconds, as the thicker and warmer liquid and its unusually strong taste coated his taste-buds, a second explosion of semen went out. It did much the same as the first. The third was much the same. “Mmhhh… So good...,” Bran moaned lewdly, in a pleasure-filled haze, as his body alternated between tensing and releasing loads of thick cum over and over. He groaned some more at the ninth; the final shot, the rest of his release dribbling out thickly and utterly flooding his abs. Still in a daze, heart beating loudly in his ears, Bran stroked his heaving belly, sliding the thick white goo over his wide torso, up his neck, down to his pubes. He thoroughly coated his still-rock-hard penis and huge, heavy balls in the stuff. Then he scooped as much as he could and licked it up with one hand, the other dedicating itself to playing with his hard cock. After a while, Bran’s stomach cramped. He was quite hungry but couldn’t be bothered to move. But the sleepiness he expected after such a release didn’t come: he started feeling antsy, as though he had had too much caffeine. His cramping stomach decided him; he would eat something, maybe watch something mindless on the TV, and then he’d go back to bed. But as he got up, something felt off; but Bran shrugged the idea away. He did the same with the vague idea of putting on clothes; it was too much trouble, besides no one was there to care besides himself. And he felt quite warm; he was still sweating. The fact he used to care a lot more about not being buck-naked in the dorm, even in his room, a few weeks ago amused him distantly. His feet thudded and left perspiration on the floor as he left the cum-covered bed and wall behind him. He felt something warm hit his legs and snorted in amusement; his hard-on was still leaking. Feeling even hungrier, Bran headed straight to the small fridge and opened the door. The sudden light had him squinting -the sudden cold surprised him – as he bent his head to search for something good to eat. The cold felt good against his warm flesh and he shuddered in delight. He reached for a can of coke, rose back up, and drank it in a few big gulps. He drank another, and another after that. Then, stomach feeling less empty, but still needing fuel, he went back down and was about to take another can when he noticed something and huffed out a short laugh. “Fuckin’ hell,” he whispered. So focused he had been on filling his belly, he hadn’t really noticed that his still leaking hard-on had coated some stuff in pre. He smirked, shook his head and took out some leftover – spaghetti bolognese – to heat up while he turned on the light, searched for a fork and a big plate. After serving himself, he set himself in front of the TV and, before turning it on, he couldn’t help but checking himself out. His reflection showed him as he was; sitting on a slightly-too-small sofa, large arms bursting out off thickly muscled shoulders and traps rising high of his bull neck. Big legs spread wide, cock high and thick, still dripping, heavy balls low and resting on the sofa. His tight musclebound gut and the V-shape low on his hips partially hidden by his wide and 10 inches long cock, his tits hanging low on a decent pair of round pecs, biceps close to 17 inches and veins and striations both easy to see on his 6’3 frame… All of those were pretty good reasons for the deep satisfaction he felt at looking at himself, a smirk reflecting such masculine pride tugging at his lips. His cock pulsed heavily as pre made his abs glisten and- his stomach cramped: he took a big bite of his meal, burped loudly – the coke – huffed out a laugh, and, feeling a bit more satisfied but still quite ravenous, he demolished his meal. But before he knew it, he was back at the fridge, pulling out enough to make another, albeit bigger meal – he was that hungry. But a man his size needed to eat quite a lot to stay so big. He smiled. “’m damn glad Ian’s not back yet,” he snickered, “he’d freak if he saw me right now”. He slapped his belching cock absently, a meaner smirk on his lips. “Though I know how I’d shut him up, mmffhhh…”, Bran closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, imagination running wild, his cock pulsing harder. Bran then smiled and stole an under-cooked chicken breast from the frying pan, too hungry to wait any longer. He munched on it, muscled jaw breaking it down fast, and his strong neck moving as he swallowed, eyes glazing over in pleasure, drool dropping from his lips. Too busy eating, he didn’t notice the bigger veins appearing all over his studly body. He was too taken up by the need to fill his void-like belly. Meanwhile, the scent of his body, of male pleasure and exertion slowly but silently got stronger in the warm and humid air of his room.
  3. Authors Notes: This thread is a replacement for the merged threads that became partially disabled that this story was previously posted in. That thread will be closed upon all the chapters of the story being reposted into this new thread. But, there is quite a bit of discussion in that thread about the story - good feedback, questions answered and such.. So, to find and read that discussion, please follow the following link. Closed To Protect and Serve Thread I wish to emphasize in the beginning - as some feedback over the time of this story has asked or accused concerning this topic - that no political or current events allegory or commentary is being made in this story. It is a story about love between two people and the monumental circumstances that their love must endure. If there is any allegory or commentary or something thought provoking I wish to encourage in this story it is two questions: What makes someone, anyone, human? Is it simply a matter of genes or is it something more? Is the muscle growth scenarios we all love here REALLY something we would choose to do in the real world? Is the fantasy really what the reality would be like? My thanks to everyone who has supported me with encouragement, suggestions and criticism, questions, speculation, tips, etc. Especially @dredlifter who suggested the original idea when I was looking for a new story idea and who has given me suggestions and proofreading help along the way, and @SeaMusc who graciously allowed me to borrow some of his ideas and the universe he has set his stories in for this one. Please give a read to both of their sets of stories. You won't be disappointed. I have included links to various videos, more information, music etc that can enhance the experience and give some explanation to what I am presenting in the chapters. Feel free to use them. I have also included at the end of most chapters a graphic showing the relative size difference between John and Gabriel at that point in the story. I make references to and include characters based on the real world of bodybuilding. Although these persons are real, they are referenced only to enhance the realism of the story. Any actions described as being made by these real world persons is purely fictional. None of these individuals endorse this work. To Protect and Serve - Chapter 1 -The First Morning “Take me to the magic of the moment / On a glory night / When the children of tomorrow dream away in the wind of change/” ~ Scorpion, Wind of Change Prelude: Just imagine - You’re standing at attention with your peers in your best Class-A Uniform. All around you in the auditorium your friends, family, and fellow officers who can come are here to see the solemn occasion. A freshly earned, freshly shined badge has just been pinned on your chest by the Sheriff. You raise your right hand and take the oath. The oath is a bit different from jurisdiction to jurisdiction, but we boil its meaning down to one phrase - “To Protect and Serve.” So many have taken the oath. Some who took it did little things that made a big difference, while some risked their lives and paid the ultimate price. And some … well … some are special. This is the story of one of those special ones - no, he is even more than that. Though it was not his intention nor mine, he went beyond special. How do I know? He saved me. He has given me a life I could never have dreamed possible that first early morning. And what happened to him? Well, a transformation that is better in the telling. To those who take the oath as seriously as he did; To those who give it a new and bigger meaning as he did; to those who change more than they can imagine by repeating those words as he did, this story is dedicated. This is the story of what could happen if you could protect and serve many thousands of people, and just one man, me, in ways beyond your wildest imagination. ~ Gabriel York A deceptively small man hung his duty shirt onto a dry cleaners hanger and placed it in his locker. As he stood bare chested in the cool air, he appeared to be hiding his body, but he had nothing to be ashamed of - having a lithe but very tight build under that shirt. Nicely shaped, mounded pecs accompanied hard small orange sized biceps. A tight 6-pack graced his lower abdomen to an impossibly small looking waist. He was way better than most men of his age, no “dad bod” here to be sure. But, the man always felt self-conscious in the locker room despite the room being empty. He wasn’t one of THEM, something that had haunted him since high school. He lifted one booted foot and then the other onto a wooden bench before him. Loosening the laces and pulling the side zipper, he removed each boot. He held them in his hands like precious artifacts for just a moment, remembering the first time he put these on. Soon it would be his last, he mused. His time could go on as long as he wanted. But -- he questioned why. What had he done to stay on? What good had he really done? REALLY made a difference? It took but a few more minutes for him to put on his civilian duty clothes (a departmental polo, slacks, and loafers), secure his badge to his belt, and close his locker. Most locker rooms were replete with all sorts of combination locks, but not here. A few men and most of the women officers used them, but it wasn’t exactly necessary. You couldn’t be in a much safer place after all. Deputy Sergeant John Declann closed his locker for the millionth time and went to collect his personal sidearm from the gun locker clerk. He had no sooner than entered the hallway from the locker room, he heard a truly tremendous booming upper bass voice: “WHOA, ONE SIDE DECLANN.” Declann immediately pulled back into the doorway and looked up … and up, to see 5 men in a tight formation with shields and cell-entry equipment. Each one of them was every bit of 6 foot 4 inches plus - although tactical boots always made you look taller than you were. They were more like 6 foot 2 without them - but still, they all out-weighed John by at least 60 pounds of muscle. At his 5 foot 7 inches in height and in normal shoes, he felt positively TINY seeing them pass by. That was sort of the point of those uniforms - to try and intimidate anyone who saw what was coming - and it always did, at least it did Declann. They were in helmets and wore thick padded vests, under which were black t-shirt with black BDUs and those boots below. While those clothes were technically “loose,” they did little to hide every oversized muscle in their massive bodies. Gigantic arms stretched forth from sleeves that seemed to be straining to the breaking point. 2 pairs of arms were thick, powerlifter looking, and 3 more were supremely cut muscle. The CERT - Cell Extraction and Response Team - blew past him looking like they were heading to Mary-pod - the maximum security section. No doubt it was to remove an offender from a cell for morning counts who did not want to be removed. There was no question, he WOULD be removed, no matter what it took. The injury inflicted was entirely the offender’s choice. And, that amount of muscle and its overwhelming power could do plenty of that. Declann had tried out for both the CERT and SWAT teams years ago. But at his 165 pounds, it was deemed he just did not have the physical size necessary. “You have all the skills needed and more Deputy Declann,” he had been told. “You should be proud of that. But some other officers just beat you out in the scores. And we need you on the streets. That is where you belong.” Funny, he thought in a moment of jealousy. It was always those guys who were of larger than life proportions that got the spots, even if their skills were not as good as his. After the group had passed, Declann walked down the hall toward the sally port and stopped. He always did it at times like this, halting at the Officer’s Gym. He looked inside. It was rather quiet, normal at 0545 and shift change. Still, he could see some of the remnants of workouts by the big guys on the force. 45 pound plates left on the sides of incline bench press rack. What looked like 5 plates on a side on the bar on the squat rack. Dozens on the leg press sled. It was a bit of a mess, in truth, but most well used gyms were. Now, Declann was no physical slouch. He always kept in shape and his skills honed as the primary martial arts instructor for the Sheriff’s Office. He could have done well in that room, even though he was pushing 40 years old. Could have grown. But, he sighed and went on. There was just a part of him that never wanted to face big men in the gym. The injustice of being mocked for his smaller size and unfamiliarity with the equipment the one time he went in blazed in him still all these years later. He guessed the big men thought it was good natured fun, but it hurt Declann deeply. So, he kept to his body weight fitness room and small dojo set up in the garage at home. That made him feel less conspicuous. When it came to them, John always saw himself as a small man in boots that were a size too big. And yet - to so many others, he wasn’t that at all. He was everything that made police work an honorable profession. --- John Declann had wanted to be a police officer for as long as he could remember. Since his youngest days, he had been fascinated by police dramas on TV, how they always seemed to catch the bad guy no matter the odds. How they always saved people in distress. In his mind, there was no better calling. No better way to spend his life. He had the mind to be anything he wanted. He excelled in most subjects in school and was a top flight musician. But, those pursuits were not where he heart lay. He was a cop at heart by his teenage years, and he did everything he could to prepare himself. He took JROTC through high school, where he picked up his interest in martial arts and started Aikido lessons. Though he wasn’t the best at team sports, he blasted through the competition at his dojo. He became quite fit from the military style calisthenics workouts he adopted during ROTC summer camps. And, that fitness matched perfectly with his blooming skills with his hands and feet on the mats. Before high school was over, his featured had matured into those of a very fit, handsome young man with striking brown eyes. And he had his first degree black belt, the first degree of many. It took a nearly a year after graduating high school to get his first small town commission to the force. He spent his first 18 months in the jails, and then took and passed his Colorado POST exams. He had been a road officer ever since. Now, he was a Sergeant in the Boulder County Sheriff’s Office - an area not unknown for large scale crimes as it held the University of Colorado. “The Berkeley of the East” though had its full measure of minor offenses. But the area wasn’t exactly the worst gang spots in Denver either. He had for served with true distinction for nearly two decades since - being decorated for bravery multiple times for saving civilians lives under fire. He had saved those intent on suicide. He had even delivered a baby once in a convenience store, and the story made the local news. He had had plenty of hands-on run ins with offenders, but he gave way more than he got, never having much more than a bruise or a black eye on occasion. He just never saw what the community and his immediate superiors did - a good man, serving the people Boulder and the kids of the University the best way he knew how. --- John went out to his car - an unmarked Dodge - cranked it, and began the slow crawl toward the Turnpike then Wheat Ridge. One of the things he learned in his own initial officer training long ago was to never live in the county you worked in. It could always lead to problems with local offenders. So, it was up and over the Flatirons toward home. Even though traffic volume was already increasing as it spread toward Denver in the morning rush, his mind wandered as if on empty roads. He made the necessary turns though the city and came proximate to the University entrances, but was running his schedule through his mind. He was due for a weigh in at the doc’s today. And they usually took his measurements too. Height, waistline, all that stu -- John’s senses caught something in the barely lit dawn. Someone moving way too fast to be normally jogging to the right of his car. Moving toward campus. John slowed his vehicle and his brain went into observation mode. It captured the scene in moments with his practiced eyes and mind. A young man -- looking to be just outside of college age but could still belong to the University. Short, black hair. Trimmed beard. White button down shirt and navy slacks. Looked like there was some money invested in those clothes, certainly not cheap. Behind him, perhaps eight or so paces, was running - and running faster than the first - a white young man, shaved head, jeans and ratty t-shirt, tatted with jailhouse tattoos that stood out even under the fading street lamps. And, then John caught sight of a gun in the rear waistband of the second’s jeans. Semi-auto by the outline. Instinct took over. John turned his car in an instant, hit the flasher toggle for his lights, and wound with wildly fast, yet practiced precision toward the danger. Less than 20 seconds later, John pulled his car to a stop where his instincts said he could cut this off. “Boulder County Sheriff's Office -- ON THE GROUND NOW” John yelled as he leapt from his car and drew his weapon virtually simultaneously. The running suspect didn’t listen, just as John had expected. He instead broke his pursuit of the well-dressed man and taken off toward a side alleyway. But, John was good at his work. The offender was fast, but John - was FASTER. He holstered his weapon as he calculated his movements nearly autonomously. He had chosen his intercept point well. John calculated the takedown, knowing an almost undisputable, universal law - 95 percent of offenders have no idea of how to fight, and the remaining 5% seldom need to fight. And this one looked like the former. It took a few seconds, but just a few, for the whole pursuit to be over. Exactly two PPCT strikes and a normal compliance take down and the suspect wa on his back, with John twisting his arms and putting the handcuffs on. He never even had to hurt more than the punk’s pride. Once secured, John kept his knee in place just under the lower shoulder blades, cuffed arms resting on his quad, knowing a bodyweight advantage and leverage would be critical with this man who slightly outweighed him. “What’s your name?” John demanded as he patted down the suspect and quickly removed a 9mm weapon and several baggies of what looked like methamphetamine. “Fuck you” was the response. John smiled a bit and gave a half chuckle under his breath. He loved this a bit too much when it happened, and some mischievous streak in him just drove him to do it. “OK, Mister Fuk Yu. I am placing you under arrest for possession of an illegal firearm and possession of controlled substances. You have the right to remain silent …” John mirandized the “Mr. Fuck,” pulled him up to his feet, and maneuvered him the few yards to his car. He put the offender in the back seat and locked the door of his unmarked. The guy was going nowhere. Now, to more important matters. John made his way toward the young man being pursued - who had by now stopped and was almost collapsed on the sidewalk. Declann withdrew his cell, called 911, and requested uniformed officers to his location. He was upon the man on the sidewalk just as he hung up. John immediately knelt down to do a quick assessment of his condition. There were no obvious signs of trauma at the first once over. He then took a more careful look at the victim’s features. While he certainly wasn’t of student age, he was still under 30, John guessed. And, he was a very nice looking under 30 to boot. Blue eyes setting off dark, intense features. Old enough to just have the barest hint of a wrinkle at the eye but nothing else. John noted a rather slim body - the size of his own would have been were it not for his training in Aikido and Krav Maga. John felt a twinge of attraction. Yes, John was bisexual, but no one cared among his superiors anymore. Besides, he had always kept that part of himself separate when on duty. “You OK Sir? I can’t see any obvious injuries. Do you need an ambulance? ”John asked as he came and sat down at the man’s level. “Thank you . . . . officer, thank . . . you.” The man panted in reply with a pronounced British accent. “I was . . . just going toward my . . . lab . . . after my tea . . . when this fellow . . . started chasing me screaming at . . me. ” The young man was now gathering his breath, becoming easier to understand. John was a bit surprised to hear that English accent coming from him. Not unheard of, but still unusual in Boulder. “Did he assault you in any way?” The Englishman finally looked up to see John’s slightly older but obviously concerned and kind face. He visibly relaxed as he looked into John’s light brown eyes. “No, he never caught me but he was close. I am not exactly in running shorts and shoes here. But thanks to you, I’ll be OK. I do not know what would have happened if you had not arrived when you did.” “With what I found, I suspect he wanted to mug you. You are rather well dressed for campus, if I may observe. And, forgive me, if he heard you accent, you may have looked like an quick target as a tourist. When the uniform officers get here, you will need to give a statement to them, or you can give it to me if you prefer. We need to make sure this scumbag gets what he deserves.” “Of course. Anything I can do to assist, although I would be much happier speaking to you.” the man said giving just a hint of a smile. It was then that the uniformed officers in their black and white vehicles showed up. John excused himself for a moment, let the uniforms know what was going on, and allowed them to take the offender back to the jail for booking. John then returned to the man still sitting on the sidewalk. Pulling out a notebook he kept on him for times like this, John got all the pertinent information as he had done thousands of times before. Name, description of what happened, when, and why, if he knew. Any details the young man, who he had come to know as Gabriel York, may have remembered before, during, and after. As he took the statement, John became even more convinced this was an attempted mugging, perhaps for more drug money, maybe even more if that weapon came into play. Knowing he had all he needed, John said, “Finally, is there a way we can contact you if we have further questions. The staff from the District Attorney's office will be sure to want to speak with you about testimony if it comes to that. Although with the evidence we have, this one will probably plea. This is not his first time in jail.” Gabriel reached into his pocket for a very expensive-looking leather wallet and removed a business card. “This is my lab contact information. I am easiest to reach either here on campus or with my secretary. My other lab is ...a… well ... it is easier to reach me here. Again I can’t thank you enough, Sergeant.” “Believe me, Dr. York, it was my pleasure. I am just glad you are safe and sound.” John said. “Are you OK to go on your own or would you like me to escort you to your lab? I would be happy to do so.” “Thank you sir, but I think I’ll be fine. My lab is just over the hill in the Biological Sciences building.” Gabriel replied. “OK” John said, handing Gabriel a card of his own with his name, rank, and contact information on it. “This is my card. If you need anything or remember anything else, please do not hesitate to call me anytime, day or night.” “Of course. Sergeant Declann.” The Englishman arose with a friendly hand from John. Almost as an afterthought as he was leaving, York turned around. “Oh, Sergeant Declann, by the way. I do ….ah… certain work down at the Federal Center in Denver. I will have to report this incident to my superiors there and to the British consulate. In case there is testimony or something as you said. They may wish to speak with you. Just to make sure. You understand?” John nodded. Ah, he works with the feds as an international scholar of some kind, and the red tape must be dealt with. “Of course. No problem at all. I’m proximate to the Federal Center half the time anyway.” York nodded an ascent and turned again to walk away. John stood a moment watching - and admiring - Dr. York move until he was sure he was alright AND that he was moving toward the Biology building. He turned around and began to make his way back to his car. As he did, he looked down at the card: Gabriel York, MD. PhD., FACS Research Director/Professor of Medicine Advanced Bio-neurological Applications Project University of Colorado School of Medicine Hmmm, John thought. He looked a damned sight young to be in such a prestigious job, a full professor under 30 and with two doctorates at least. And a fellow of the ACS -- so why talk to the Consulate? John’s “detective sensor” started to sound off in his mind. This advanced applications thing wasn’t a program he was familiar with, but there were so many new research projects on campus these days. But, as soon as the “alert” came, he let it go. Probably a government grant given what he said about the Federal Center. John was reviewing the incident in his mind for his own after action report as he pulled onto the highway. Suddenly, there was a loud roar of a horn and air brakes. John never even saw the tractor trailer that plowed into his car, crumpling it in an instant like so much tissue paper and driving it 30 yards down the highway. Two Hours Later-- Trauma room one at the University of Colorado Hospital was abuzz with activity. At least a dozen doctors, nurses, and specialist technologists in yellow plastic smocks and shields hovered over a trauma bed doing a myriad of tasks to the man laying there. “What do we have?” the lead trauma surgeon said as he came into the room and took up control of the life-saving operation. On of the smocked figures raised up and stepped back, raising his shield. “John Declann, Caucasian male, age 39. Boulder County Sheriff’s Deputy. MVA - car versus tractor/trailer. Passenger was in a seatbelt with airbags deployed but required extraction by fire-rescue. Initial assessment shows superficial cranial abrasions, with most likely a simple concussion. No evidence of other cranial, brain, or upper spinal injuries. Seat belt bruising pattern is highly indicative of internal organ disruption, but nothing so far on physical examination and plain films of the abdomen. Lacerated and collapsed left lung, re-inflated with chest tube. Pneumothorax proximate to same lung injury also responding. Initial x-rays show compromised T-12 vertebral body and possible pelvic fracture. No apparent lower limb trauma beyond cuts and bruises from extrication from the vehicle. CT scans are coming up now for the spinal and pelvic injury areas. This was a driver’s side T-bone crash. I think that this guy’s level of fitness is why we’re talking about saving his life and not pronouncing him.” the lead resident efficiently rattled off. The lead surgeon took a look at the patient, and agreed with the resident’s assessment. John was alive because of his trained, flexible, body and more than a little random chance. But what kind of life was it going to be? The doctor walked over to the computer terminal screens and pulled up the CT scans. The pelvis showed a simple left side Ilium fracture. Non-displaced. Something the orthopods could deal with easy enough. He then flipped to the scan of John’s spine -- and frowned. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as he looked. He sat down on a stool and zoomed, in, out, rotated, and closely examined the different views provided by the technology. The burst fracture was unmistakable and at precisely the worst spot for leg function. As he walked back to John, the doctor barked orders to the residents and nurses, while he removed an ink pen from his pocket. He ran the pen up first one foot and then the other. Goddamnit, he thought. The veteran doc’s heart sunk even more. “Get neurosurg here stat. Tell them severe impact, burst fracture at T-12, CT visualization and reflex response indicative of cord injury.” The room went silent for a moment before carrying on. It was always hard to treat an officer. Much less for this. The supervising physician turned and again just looked at the radiology. The soft tissue injuries were no walk in the park, but were easily fixable, recoverable in just a few weeks, the pelvis in a couple of months, except …. that. There was no hope for that, in his experience. This man would be paralyzed. Five minutes later the head of neurosurgery looked at the same CT scans, and came to the same conclusion. No hope. They could do an exploratory, check and see if by some miracle there was just pressure on the cord from a fragment, but not likely. Better to just do a vertebral stabilization with the orthopods, but his chances to recover function … Declann had been stabilized and was ready for transfer to have his lung laceration repaired. As he was about to be moved, another man in a white coat burst into the trauma room. One look from him toward John, and his eyes moistened. “I...I...can’t believe it.” the black haired man wept at the side of the bed. “I had to be sure.” The man almost looked skyward, “Why him?” Gabriel tenderly wiped a finger down John’s cheek. “Gabriel?” the head of neuro looked up. “What are you doing here? Do you know this man?” “This man, he saved my life this morning, not even four hours ago. Kept me from getting mugged by this man with a gun. Everyone heard the crash and when I saw that the wreckage was his car. Is he going to be OK?” Gabriel was out of breath and had obviously lost clinical detachment between the events of this morning and the shock of seeing the officer who had been so kind and patient with him lying there. He would have been removed if treatment were still going on, but it was basically complete save moving him to OR. The two attendings just nodded toward the computer screens with the radiology still on it. Gabriel walked from John’s head side, looked, and was overcome with remorse and guilt. Had he just been at his normal time, 15 minutes later, none of this would have happened. But, he just HAD to check on a minor experiment. And now, this man lay here because of him. Gabriel zoomed in to the machine’s maximum sensitivity. He looked again and again. Through a choking voice, Gabriel looked around and almost whispered. “Jack, can you send me these scans please? To my secondary lab.” The lead neurosurgeon looked horrified, searching for a reason not to. “Gabriel. You can’t be serious. You know I can’t do that. It violates protocol, federal law--” Gabriel cut him off, almost angrily “Jack you know I can take care of that with one call to Washington.” “What are you going to do?” Jack asked, never having seen such anger in the young, brilliant surgeon and scientist. “IF I can, if there is anything I can do, I am going to try and help this man.’ “You can’t have a man as a lab r--. I can’t sanc---” Jack stumbled. Gabriel stood to his full height, taking on an almost military bearing. “You know I can and will go over your head if I have to. I will have him removed if I must.” Gabriel took a breath and seemed to calm a bit. “Jack I am not promising that I can or will do anything, I do not know if there is anything to do. But I have to try. I owe it to him. He is here because of me. I have to try or I’ll never forgive myself.” Jack knew Gabriel could follow through on his threats in an instant. He had seen some small manifestations of Gabriel’s connections to political power before, and he knew that interference in hospital functions was the very least of what he could do. As much as Jack detested it, with this kind of anger Gabriel could bring down the mountain on top of his whole hospital. But, as it was, there was nothing anyone could do for Officer Declann, not even York. Jack just silently waved his fingers in a gesture of defeat, nodded an ascent, and transferred access to Gabriel as primary attending physician. “Thank you Jack. I owe you about 10 times over for this.” “I WILL HOLD YOU TO THAT,” the older surgeon replied, his voice suddenly sharpened. “And I insist on one thing. Before you present him any of those things you do that I do not have a clue about, you will at least get his consent.” Gabriel looked like he had been shot himself and his voice shook, “I would NEVER do anything to harm him.” York turned on a heel and left the room, walking out of the ER doors, and toward his car in the parking lot. As soon as he was in the vehicle with the door closed, he pulled from his pocket an encrypted cell phone with just one number it could access, locked to his fingerprint. A male voice answered in military precision, “Yes, Doctor York?” “Codeword Ariana. I want the full computer network prepped for simulator study based on some CT scans that will be coming from CU Trauma ER shortly. Run the program with emergent parameters and stand by to report when I get there. Not a proof of concept level scan, Don, but full cellular level calculations. I am leaving the hospital now. We have 24 hours at the most to complete simulations. And...ah.. Don. This is important to me, personally.” “Yes SIR,” the sharp voice on the other end said. Gabriel could not quite understand what he was feeling, this pull toward this man. He didn’t know the man existed six hours ago. Sure, there was guilt and anger and sadness. But, he just could not remove from his mind those eyes he saw this morning. Those haunted, caring brown eyes. Something about him. This John Declann. He did not know what. But he saw it in his eyes. He deserved more than this, and Gabriel would find out why. He would make it happen, he willed it to happen as he drove toward the freeway. This good man would walk again.
  4. MuscleAndBulge

    muscle growth The Life Changing Discovery

    This is my first attempt at a story. I wrote and posted it on MetaBods a couple of years ago and then didn't return to it until recently. I hope you enjoy, and look forward to new chapters in the future. This is the story Stew, a short and scrawny teenager. But after he discovers a magical artifact, his life becomes bigger and better. ~~~~~ Stew was a typical teenage guy. He had just started college, but he was off for the summer. He studied at a local school, so he lived with his parents. Stew had only made a few friends in high school, but he was trying to get out of his shell more now that he was in college. He had made a few friends in his program, and he had even gone on a few dates with some guys he’d met online. Stew was trying to be more outgoing, since he had been more introverted in high school and wanted to push the limits of his comfort zone. The sun was setting on a Saturday evening at the beach. Stew’s family liked to drive there and spend the day whenever they could. It was a bit of a family tradition. Stew didn’t want to go swimming after they had finished eating, so he unpacked his metal detector and set out looking for random things around the beach. After spending over an hour searching with nothing more than some broken jewelry and some pocket change to show for his effort, he decided to expand his search. He headed over some rocks away from the main part of the public beach. He figured he’d try some place that hadn’t been picked over by dozens of other metal detector enthusiasts. He got to another stretch of shore, but this one was much rockier and filled with seaweed. This must be why no one bothered with this stretch of beach. He started his sweeping pattern and set to work. After a few minutes, he got another hit. Pulling out his trusty spade, he set to work digging it up. He heard the telltale “ting” of metal on metal, letting him know he had found his target. He carefully excavated it and found what appeared to be some sort of metal lamp with ornate design covering the sides. He stashed it away in his backpack to take a closer look at it later. The sun had almost set now, and he was sure the rest of his family was getting ready to leave. He packed up his gear and made his way back to the parking lot. ***** Later that night, after they got home and unpacked everything from the car, Stew brought his stuff to the basement. Stew was the youngest of his brothers, and the only one that still lived with his parents. So, he had most of the basement to himself, and he set it up like a rec room. There was a couch, a TV, some chairs, and a desk to do homework in the corner. When he set down his backpack, he heard the clank of the things he had found at the beach and it reminded him of the strange lamp he found. He took it out of his backpack and sat at his desk to take a better look. It had some corrosion from being in the wet sand for who knows how long. Stew took out a rag and started to scrub some of the dirt away and get a better look at the designs on the side. Starting on one side, he worked his way around until he was back where he started. He squinted to take a better look and brought it closer to his face, when suddenly, it began to vibrate. Startled by this, he let go of it and it clattered onto the desk. It started to glow and rattle more violently. A plume of smoke started to come out of the opening, and the rattling seemed to slow down. The smoke started to become denser and take shape. A muscled torso of a man started to form before him, and stew noticed how buff and toned he was. It reminded of the men’s fitness magazines he had hidden away when he was too young to have his own computer. The man finally came into view, with teal skin and pointed ears pierced with several earrings. Stew and scooted back several feet during the events and was now staring at the strange new guest in his basement hideout with his mouth agape. “Hello” said the floating figure. “My name is Awah’Toh. I am the genie who lives in this lamp. I am here to grant you three wishes” “Holy shit” was all Stew could manage to come up with. The genie tilted his head curiously and said, “why would you bless feces?” This snapped Stew out of his awestruck lack of words. “Genies are real?” He said. The genie looked down and himself, then to the lamp, and then back to Stew and said “Clearly.” It appears a genie can be sarcastic. “So… you can actually grant me three wishes?” “Yes. However, there are limits on my magic. I cannot bring back the dead. I cannot control other people. And I cannot grant immortality. Besides this, I can give you anything you desire.” “So kinda like in Aladdin?” “Who?” Said the genie, puzzled. “Never mind.” Stew said, as his mind started to race with possibilities of what he could ask for. His mind went over the events of the days and started thinking of the beach. He thought about why he didn’t want to join his family when they went swimming. Stew was a rather small for his age. He hadn’t gotten a huge growth spurt in high school like a lot of his classmates had and seemed to have peaked at 5’6”. And he had little to show in the muscle department. His cock was nothing impressive, maxing out at 4” hard. He hated taking his shirt off because it would show off how thin and small he was. That’s why it had been a few years since he had gone swimming at the beach. Being in the water with nothing but his swim trunks showed off everything he didn’t like about his figure. As though a light bulb went off in his head, he made eye contact with the genie and asked “this isn’t one of those monkey paw situations where these wishes turn out to be curses or something, right?” “I’m not familiar with this, but I can assure you, I wish you no ill will” “Alright then. I wish I could make my body bigger” He said decisively. “Very well” the genie nodded slowly, then pointed his fingers at Stew. There was no light and no sparks. Nothing but some fingers pointed. “Did it work?” asked Stew skeptically. “Why not give it a try? Think of the changes you want and see what happens” After finished his hand motion, the genie crossed his arms over his chest. As he did so, his muscles flexed and showed off their size. This gave Stew all the inspiration he needed. He concentrated on these muscles and thought of how he wanted the same thing. His body felt strange. It wasn’t unpleasant, perhaps even good. As thought a thousand tiny hands were massaging his skin at once. He looked down at himself and saw the changes unfold. His chest started to expand under his loose-fitting shirt. His arms were getting thicker too, making his sleeves tight. His shirt was now too tight for him. Moving his arms made the shirt bunch and stretch in ways Stew was not familiar with. His jeans were also becoming snug around his legs as he filled them out more and more. The changes slowed to a stop. Stew started to touch his arms and chest to make sure they were real, and sure enough they were very real. He looked at the genie and smiled. “This is amazing!” “I’m glad you enjoy my handiwork” he said with another slow nod. Stew’s mind was going wild now as thoughts started jumping around inside his head. “How big can I get?” He asked with an excited tone. “You never wished for a maximum size, so there isn’t one” Awah’Toh said matter-of-factly. This brought on another wave of excitement for Stew. He looked over at his computer and remembered the pictures of morphed muscle men he had seen online. He thought about one of his favourite photos and held the image in his head. But before he did anything else, he ran over to the old full-length mirror that had been stored in the corner of the room after some renovations. Stew was now ready and thought about how he wanted to look like that morphed man with the exaggerated features. He watched in the mirror as his muscles once again started to expand. His shirt got tighter and tighter until the seams started to rip, and his new flesh started to spill out of the tears. He got caught up in the moment and flexed to see how it looked in the mirror. Just then, his shirt reached its limit and fell off in tatters, revealing Stew’s now bulging and growing torso. His muscles continued to expand, his shoulders getting wider and his pecs growing outwards until Stew’s chin bumped into them as he tried to look down. His abs formed a tight eight-pack of fist sized bulbs that each cast their own shadow. His biceps were the size of bowling balls and his triceps looked twice as big as a normal bodybuilder’s would be. After scoping out the changes that happened above his waist, Stew realized that his jeans looked like leggings and the seams were held together by threads. Shortly after he realized how strained they were, he bent over to examine the damage. This caused his muscles to flex. Almost like rip-off pants, they fell away from his legs, leaving him standing there in nothing but his underwear. “Wow” Was all Stew could say. He turned around, inspecting his new proportions in the mirror. He would flex and turn and flex and turn, amazed by the results. He loved how he looked now. The feeling of his new strength felt amazing. But after a few minutes of looking at himself in the mirror for a few minutes, something started to bother stew. He looked at his junk. It was covered by his briefs. He had worn a special spandex pair for his trip to the beach, just in case he decided to go swimming. His cock had felt small before, but with his new swollen muscles grown to huge proportions, it looked comically small under the blue stretchy fabric. “Is something wrong? Are you not satisfied with your wish?” Piped up the genie. Stew felt sheepish all of a sudden. “Does… Does it work on uhh…” his voice trailed off, embarrassed by what he wanted to ask. It was comical how this gargantuan wall of muscle was fidgeting with the waistband on the only piece of clothing he wore. “Can it work on my cock?” he finally blurted out. “You wished to make your body bigger. Your cock, as you call it, is part of your body, is it not?” Stew’s heart began to race with the new ideas coming to mind. This time Stew simply thought about how he wanted a bigger dick. He didn’t think of anything for inspiration. Just simply: bigger. Then, on command just like his previous changes, his underwear began to fill. The change was slow at first. His dick started to show through the fabric, outlining the growing member. It slowly grew to fill the pouch, then it began to push beyond the boundaries of what was normal. It stuck out further and further in front of him, growing to the size of a cantaloupe. Stew could finally see the bulge over his pecs. This was substantial, because of how huge his pecs were now. Looking in the mirror again, Stew surveyed his new addition. He touched the bulge with his whole hand. His bulge jiggled somewhat, then a shock of pleasure coursed threw his cock. This surprised Stew. It was as though the sensitivity of his cock had grown along with the size. He rubbed the front of the pouch, feeling it stretch as he pushed it from side to side, enjoying the sensations that went along with the motions. Stew was beyond excited now. He couldn’t believe that this person he saw in the reflection was actually him. He loved every crevice and curve his body now had.
  5. rmorris

    The Arab Prince

    This is my first ever written story published here. I have actually written one story before, but it was lost when my old laptop gave up. I've been hesitant to put anything here as I don't want my story telling getting too judged, but, this is an idea which is so hot to me, I just had to share. I hope you all enjoy, and any feedback is much appreciated, or feel free to drop me a message. “So, anything else that needs discussing before the next news meeting?” My editor asks. “Umm, well, is there anything I can be focussing on?” My voice slightly cracks, I’ve only been at the BBC offices for a few weeks but I’m trying to make myself come off as keen, but not too keen that everyone around me hates me and thinks I’m going to gun for their job. The World Service has been through some really, really tough months, job cuts, redundancies, people moving abroad to other networks, the BBC was not the place everyone wanted to work anymore, and certainly a young 25 year old upstart like me joining the most respected name in news worldwide might rub some up the wrong way. My game plan was simple, move in the right direction but slowly, and never appear too fast or eager. I genuinely wasn’t there to steal anyone’s job, certainly not deliberately. “Actually, there’s something we want you to do, wait behind.” The room vacated, everyone doing awkward British nods and smiles at each other as they left to complete their tasks. “We’re impressed, you’re progressing well,” she says, “so we’ve got a small interview we’d like you to do, but it is an important one, and it’s a foreign assignment so it’s a good first job.” “Oh wow, okay,” I pause, “go on.” “Prince Abdul Al-Aziz Al-Hamza is shortly to take over the small island nation of Thazzan,” she starts. “Isn’t that the country which has insanely high oil revenues but doesn’t really look after its people?” “Oh yes,” she says, “we’d like you to go there and interview him. His father’s in his dying days and he’s willing to give one radio interview, specifically radio, we don’t know why, to discuss what’s next for his country.” This was a perfect scoop, I mean, it was going to be boring as hell, but good. By boring as hell, I mean there would be no chance for real questions. Interviews with dictators and their sons always followed the same format and went on the same lines, how thrilled the people are to have them and how many changes they have planned for the country. No-one actually ever takes these kinds of things seriously. “I’m a bit concerned about LGBT rights,” I say, after a few moments of pondering. “They’re inviting you, it’s not going to be a problem, in fact I’ve already checked that,” she replies. “Wait you what?” I ask, rather startled. “You’re our only free reporter, so I was upfront about it,” she replies, calmly, I forget my editor has been doing this for years, “we used to check this kind of thing with reporters in other slightly homophobic countries nearby, it’s standard practice.” “How is that, remotely standard practice?” I ask, blood pressure raised. “Because then there’s a record that we checked that it was fine for you to go as a gay man, actually it protects you from being arrested for debauchery if they were to find out you were while you’re there.” “The last thing I’m going to do is hook up with some guy from a country where it’s so repressed and I can get thrown in jail for it,” I say, almost losing my temper, but, then remembering this is the person in charge of assignments, “but thank you for your concern,” I add, through slightly gritted teeth. “Can you leave this evening? It’s either this evening or an early morning flight I’m afraid. You can leave the office now. We’ve planned around 4 days for you there, there’s a visit to some oil refineries, some oil treatment works, some oil fields, and then the final day is the interview itself,” she says, “did you know the country’s economy is almost entirely dependent on oil?” She asks, with a wry smile. “I could have guessed.” I say. ******************************************** 24 hours later and I wake up my first day in Thazzan. The air conditioning perfect, the hotel nice, the BBC could never afford a really, really nice hotel, especially for an inexperienced reporter like me, but it was comfortable. Certainly more comfortable than most hotels around the M25, although that’s not saying much. My first visit to an oil field was boring, as I guessed all the visits would be. I ended up having a chat with the manager as we were wrapping up. Oil was booming, he was telling me, no he wasn’t concerned about the sudden drop in oil in the coming decades as the country was investing now, yes he was very confident in the new Prince. “He telephones in to our board meetings across the company,” he said, excitedly. “Oh so he is more hands on than most bosses?” I ask. “Oh, absolutely,” he says, “much better than in neighbouring countries. He always dials in and he’s very good at giving direction, after all, the country shares the oil wealth so we have to do it for the benefit of all.” He replies. It’s worth pointing out at this point that corruption indexes but Thazzan at one of the worst in the world for corruption, and the UN has repeatedly said that even though they have all this oil wealth, it is not trickling down to the people. Pleas have been made repeatedly to have the wealth shared more effectively, it’s all gone unheeded. I look up from his desk, sure enough, there was a smiling Prince Al-Hamza, probably embezzling huge amounts of this money for himself, not that the people would ever know. I hated myself for thinking this, in a country of such poor gay rights, but he was hot. The guy was hot. His Excellency, or whatever his formal title was, was hot. He had the kind of manicured facial hair and beautiful dark brown eyes that really turned me on to Arab men. Not one guy so far had really piqued my interest, but the Prince did. “Ah yes, it is his official portrait, we are all very pleased with him,” the manager grinned. I notice the date mark in the plaque next to his smiling image. “2008?” I ask. “Yes, why?” he asks. “That’s ten years ago.” “It is the most recent official portrait, he is twenty there, if something more recent comes, then we all have to change. We used to change them once every six months.” “Oh right, so does he look like that now? I mean, during your teleconferences?” “Oh no, you misunderstand, we never see him, he calls in on the phone.” This struck me as odd. I sat back in my chair and looked at the image of the attractive Prince in full Thazzan flowing white robes of national dress. It also made me wonder why the man had specifically asked for a radio interview with the World Service, any Prince on a good PR job would be after BBC World News on TV, not radio. TV had a better reach and could be used on YouTube, radio, not so much. “Have you ever seen him? Met him? He’s nice?” I ask, digging. “Nope, but he is a very kind man, he cares deeply about the people,” says the manager, “sometimes when oil revenues fall, he will call me personally and discuss.” “So he’s never visited your oil field?” “A Prince is far too busy for something like that, he has many diplomatic things to attend and people to look after, I would not expect him to come visit.” “But it’s your country’s main source of revenue?” I ask. “Of course!” He replies, he’s not going to comment further. I let his last two words hang in the air briefly, most interviewees will almost always talk more when you leave the room quiet, this man, not so. Perfectly trained in PR. The two officials standing near the exit to the office probably didn’t help either, while they were there ostensibly to help me around, they were almost certainly there to make sure all my visits were perfect. With that, I left the facility. ************************************** My final day had arrived, this afternoon I was told I had an hour with the Prince, to ask him what I wanted. He wouldn’t answer any question we hadn’t planned from the news team, but we could at least try. He would give highly scripted answers to complex questions and that would be done. I didn’t know why the BBC was going through with this total farce of an interview, but there we are. I was taken to the royal palace at 1pm. The huge, vast building opened up like an oasis in the desert as we drove nearer. An enormous monolith dedicated to housing the ruling family, it had hundreds of acres of perfectly manicured grounds and guards every few metres. I was shown into a big room, then another big room, and finally another big room. I was sat down at a table with a phone on it. “The Prince will talk shortly.” I was assured by a small man in perfectly fitted attire. I got ready to read through my notes for the upcoming questions, I got out my radio microphone, I worked out the best lines of attack. I thought I’d start out slow and ask about oil revenues, then start asking why the country was still not dealing with its poverty effectively. The phone rang. I looked around, but I was in this empty space alone. I gingerly picked up the receiver. “Hello?” I asked, my voice cracked slightly, I needed to drink more, the country was too hot. “Hello, I believe you have some questions for me,” came a slightly deep, immaculately accented English from the other end of the phone. My mouth went immediately dry. “Your Excellency! I didn’t realise we weren’t doing this in person?” “I am a very busy man. You must understand.” “I do, I do,” I say, biting my tongue, before realising I needed to state the obvious, “how am I supposed to do a radio interview over the phone?” “My people will record it,” he says, assuredly, here’s a man no-one has ever said no to. “I can’t do that,” I say, holding back a frog in my throat, “BBC guidelines, I have to record it myself.” “Why?” “You could tamper with the recording, it has happened.” A deep laugh came from the other end of the receiver. “Surely not?” he asks. “Yes.” I reply. “But you would know if it had been edited, you’ll have done the interview.” “Yes but that isn’t the point.” “Okay so what is your first question?” He asks, pointedly. “No, no, I’m really sorry, I have to insist, I have to interview you in person. There’s no point in me being sent all the way here in order to get audio from a telephone recording, I could do that in London.” “London is a beautiful city,” he said, randomly. “Yes,” I say, slightly caught off guard, “it is.” “I have many houses there, would you like to know how many?” “Yes, actually,” I say. “A few, Knightsbridge and Belgravia, all of my neighbouring royal families have houses in the same areas, you know, it’s a second home for us, so many of us in the Middle East are educated in London or around London, we like the UK.” Whilst this is interesting, I get what he’s trying to do. Distraction techniques don’t work with me. “I can’t do the interview like this. It has to be in person.” There’s a loud sigh let out on the other end. Then, some barking of Arabic at an assistant. “Wait,” he says. More Arabic is exchanged. A second voice enters his room and more Arabic is discussed. They have a slightly politer form of Arabic in Thazzan, clearly, more like Lebanese, softer, not the harsh guttural tones of Saudi Arabia. A new voice joins the line. “Hello, I am chief lawyer and legal officer here at the palace.” “Oh hello,” I say, just a trifle taken aback from this new development in proceedings. “It is highly against protocol to let people meet the Prince himself.” “I know, but it is also highly against protocol to even invite foreign journalists to talk to your officials, so this is a rather new day for you, isn’t it?” I say, smirking slightly at the way I am holding myself, surprising myself, really. A long sigh is let out. “We can let you see him,” he continues, “but you don’t have a camera, do you?” “Well I’ve got my phone.” “Surrender the phone, you need to hand us everything bar the microphone and any notes you may need.” “Okay.” “There’s also a contract you need to sign, what you in the west call a non-disclosure agreement, you do not discuss the Prince’s appearance with anyone, not even your colleagues or direct bosses.” “What?” “It is radio isn’t it?” “Yes.” “Then this is not a problem, the contract should be there now, it’s standard royal protocol to not discuss the Prince’s appearance.” “Why?” I struggled to hold back laughter, this was bizarre protocol. “I cannot comment, sign the form, you will see him.” “Thank you.” I say, to his rather curt previous remark. The perfectly dressed assistant who showed me to the table comes back in, this time a gold tray with a piece of paper is handed over, as well as a fountain pen. “Please sign,” he says, bowing. I read through it, it is literally nothing else other than that I must not discuss his appearance with anyone, no hidden clauses, nothing confusing, just that one stipulation. I shrug and sign, if this is going to give me the high quality audio interview we need, that’ll be it. “Please,” he gestures frantically, “leave this room, turn right, walk to the end of the corridor, it is the last door on the right.” I really didn’t need those instructions as a man had now come to stand next to me, and started walking very closely beside me. He was hot, too. I needed to focus. ******************************************************** The doors clicked open upon my approach, but no-one else was going into the room with me. They swung open and I walked in. The room was markedly cooler than the rest of the palace. To the left, at least twenty floor to ceiling windows looked over a perfectly manicured garden being tended to by a multitude of staff. I walked in, distracted by the windows and what they had to show. There didn’t appear to be anyone in the room, I meandered slowly towards the vast view of the courtyard, and the gardens beyond. “Hello?” I ask. My voice dying in the room as it bounced off the walls and marble floors. Nothing. “Hello?” I say, voice slightly raised. I hear footsteps and two men are now leaving the room behind me, the doors click shut. I frown. I hear heavy footsteps, ones more sounding like a rhino crossing the perfectly varnished, clean, white floor. I see a broad man approaching in a beautiful crisp, white national dress. I say broad, he’s across the room and I can see that he is built like a tank. He continues to walk heavily toward me, each step making a noticeable sound on the floor. This is a man who works out. I see it is the Prince, he has barely changed facially, but there are some noticeable changes. He extends an arm to shake my hand and smiles broadly, at which point I notice his neck is almost thicker than his head. Even under the free-flowing gowns of the Arabian Peninsula, it is obvious that this man works out, all the time. He places his large hand into mine and says the Arabic for welcome, I extend the same courtesy back. As he walks towards me, one leg is being placed purposefully in front of the other, clearly due to huge legs. The arms are stretching at his national dress, and it is by no means small. “It is nicer to see you in person,” he says, “my people were very talkative with your editor, I have heard much about you, you have been in the BBC long?” That perfectly accented English makes me weak at the knees, he has a perfectly manicured beard and immaculate teeth, the deep brown eyes make me melt and that thick neck makes me swoon, I wonder what he’s packing underneath the robes. “A couple of years,” I say, looking solidly at his neck. “You will see I am different to portraits, I am more of a man now,” he smiles. “I can see there have been some changes,” I reply. ***************************************** He turned his back to me, his huge, broad back stretching at the seams of the otherwise flowing robe. He walks off to a couple of extremely comfortable looking chairs at the other side of the room, still near the windows. I’m focusing on how heavy his footfall is with each step, his purposeful gait gives the air of someone who is used to dominating a room. He sits down, the chair creaks under his weight, I pretend not to notice. “I don’t have much time, I’m sure you’ll appreciate I am a busy man,” he says, straight away, rubbing his left hand with his right. “That’s fine, I want about half an hour with you, if that’s okay? Just to clear up all the questions the world media have.” “I completely understand, please, I will answer the best I can.” I look through my notes. “May we begin?” I ask. He nods and smiles. “Oil revenues are increasing, aren’t they, how do you use these to pay for the infrastructure of Thazzan?” “My kingdom is very fortunate to have been blessed with such resources to help us out. We have historically always struggled with our economy, imports and exports. It is just one huge export, but it helps out my country hugely, we are moving into the 21st century.” “Do you think the country could be doing any better?” I ask, trying to look at his arm slyly while he rubs his mouth with his right hand in thinking. “I think we have historically had problems with corruption, from previous administrations before my branch of the family came to power, we had big problems.” “What do you say to people who say that the country still has too many problems, too much poverty, for one which last year was estimated to make a few billion dollars a day in selling oil?” He shifts in his chair, it creaks again, he pushes his head back, his neck looks as though he just flexed it, is he trying to intimidate me? “Of course there will always be these problems, but in a Muslim society, we do the best we can to help those in need, I hope that these problems will continue to be eradicated, any poverty is too much poverty.” He shifts in his chair again, he looks uncomfortable. I think he doesn’t like asking questions from a media which actually searches. This is not the fawning state media he’ll be used to. “What are you doing to promote tourism? I understand you are bidding for worldwide sporting events?” He looks relieved at this question. “We are bidding for the World Cup, and for more sports to take place here, we need to boost our economy further with tourism and to show the correct Arab culture around the world, you know, Arabs are seen as so hospitable, yet everyone just associates us with terror attacks, it is awful.” The chair lets out a larger creak as he shifts again, he takes a deep breath. “In terms of your tourism economy, what -“ “Stop,” he interrupts. I momentarily pause, still looking at my notes, rather taken aback by his interjection. He reaches forward and rips the batteries out of my recorder, his huge arms at work under that national dress make me do a double take. “I am sorry, I am not feeling well, I had a brief illness last week, and I thought I would be okay, but I just need to get some water. This is off the record, illness is something my people would not associate with me.” I’m rather taken aback by the admission here, but pause. It’s highly unusual, but if he wasn’t feeling that well at the beginning of the interview then why did he proceed anyway? I ask him this. “I thought I’d be okay, but…” he lets out a long sigh, I notice the chair is creaking again, surely he can afford better chairs, “pass me some water.” He gestures at an ornate table, about five metres away, it has two huge pitchers of water on it and seven glasses. I walk over and pour some out. Hopefully we can bond over me helping him. I have my back turned to him and I hear another creak, he lets out a low groan. He isn’t going to be unwell is he? I can’t be accused of trying to poison him, can I? Is this a trap? I suddenly realise this man knows I’m gay in a highly homophobic country, is asking me to pour him water and hand him it, he could accuse me of all kinds of things, there are literally no staff in here. I don’t carry poison, but what can they accuse me of? I turn back around to face him, he’s sweating. “Are you okay? Should I get staff?” “No, honestly,” he lets out a huge burp, covering his mouth, swearing under his breath in Arabic, “I need some water.” He shifts back in his chair, then more upright, both times the chair makes the loudest squeaks and creaks yet. I rush back with two glasses of water. He has some beads of sweat forming on his forehead. This has to be real, he can’t be faking it at this point. He gulps down both glasses. His face is red, sweaty. “Can you stay longer? We may have to reschedule, I think,” he says. “Yes of course I can, what -“ I’m interrupted by the sound of ripping fabric. His eyes let out a look of panic, briefly, locking straight on to mine. I have no idea what to say, the pause hangs there immediately after the ripping. He continues to stare at me, rabbit in the headlights, as I notice the seams on his shoulders are giving way, the previous flowing robe now bursting at the seams. We both continue to stare at each other. In the corner of my eye I can see the seams getting wider on his shoulders. “Are you -“ I’m speechless beyond that, I don’t know what to say. I’m standing in front of him in the chair, staring. He continues to stare at me, almost completely vacantly at this point, but still panic-stricken. There’s no more words to be formed, I fantasise about this kind of thing all the time, every day, but is it actually happening? Had I finally gained the ability I had always wanted to have? This is the kind of thing I read about on muscle fantasy forums every night, night after night, after work, one handed typing, as I read hot stories of men growing. But this guy is doing it actually in front of me. This isn’t a wet dream. He lets out a deep breath and burps again, says something else under his breath in Arabic. I, automatically, in my British sentiment, excuse him. He thanks me under his breath. The pregnant pause continues, it’s unbearable, I want to watch him grow but I can’t believe it’s happening. There’s no batteries in my microphone, I can’t take notes. I just continue to look at his face. He continues to take in great gulps of air, a bead of sweat forming at the end of his nose and another trickling down the left side of his face. Finally, both stretches of fabric covering his shoulders give way and tear. At this point I sit down, my burgeoning erection had been going since I realised that this was happening, and that he wasn’t actually unwell. He smirks, gently. “You like this, don’t you?” He says, absent-mindedly rubbing his exposed left shoulder with his right hand. I can’t reply. I am staring. My boxers are wet. “Being trapped in such a small, island nation with only a few hundred thousand people and such bad gay rights, I was thrilled to find out a gay reporter was coming.” My mouth is dry. The chair creaks again, he didn’t shift in it this time. “Imagine how surprised I was to find that the security detail provided to you by my security services included that you were a member of the muscle growth forum?” Rumbled. I feel the colour drain from my face. I really want a glass of water now. “When we got into your account, had a look through, you’ve always dreamed of being the guy who encourages, stays the same while his partner gets bigger,” he continues. “I have to say, when I was handed the report by my special security services, and I came across that section in the online activity chapter, I knew I had found the man for me,” he groans under his breath and throws his head back, closing his eyes while something else rips elsewhere. My mouth is as dry as the desert outside. I struggle to prevent my hands shaking wildly. “I bet you want to know why poverty is so bad in my country, why healthcare is so bad,” he says, opening his eyes, staring at me again, those deep, beautiful eyes. I nod, mouth open, catching flies. “I have always wanted this,” he says, grunting a bit at the ‘this’, “ever since I was a child, I wanted to be bigger and better than everyone, I went to school at a private institution in England, I could never become the rugby player I wanted to be. “I have always felt like the only one in the world, who wanted this, like you do, but for me. But then I realised, I’m coming to power, let’s spend my family wealth on the one thing I want, I can be in charge of the government, let’s change government research and development from medical research to muscle.” The chair underneath him lets out two staccatos of creaking. He groans a bit. “My family makes billions per day, of course I use it for the people, and some offshore, but at least one billion of that goes into this.” He stands up, the robe falls to the floor, I involuntarily make a sound like the slut for muscle I’ve always known I have been. “You are literally looking at the only guy in the world who can grow, and grow on command. I have pills, I popped some before you came in, I take them when I want, they’re not perfect, I rarely go out in public, sometimes the growth takes over, so I rule from my palaces.” I look at the striations of muscle across his body, the tensing and flexing, the beads of sweat dripping down his hairy chest and arms, the only clothing he still has on are his undergarments, sandals and his headwear. He reaches out a hand to me, and pulls me out of the chair, I’m weak at the knees. His hands lead me to put my left hand on his chest, my right on his left arm, he tenses both areas. I feel a wet patch forming. “No-one is allowed to touch me except family, that’s a sackable offence in royal palaces,” he continues, “but you, you have always wanted this, you don’t want to admit it but a multi-billionaire prince who can also grow must also be something you want.” He flexes his left arm, I realise my voice box is involuntarily engaged as I let out a huge, sudden breath, I feel my body tense all over. I came. He looks at my now sticky trousers. “Well, well, well, your profile was not fake.” “I’m so sorry,” I say, shakily, sweating, barely able to get a word out, voice cracking. “Why are you apologising?” I stare, dumbly, I can’t take the situation in. “When you came in I was around 270lbs, I’m around 6’3, at this point I’m usually 100lbs more than that, there’s more to go, yet.” This makes me acknowledge the current situation and regain some ground. “How big do you,” I say, I pause to run my tongue round my mouth, “how big do you go?” “Well I only took a couple, so, erm, 200lbs more? I’ll end up somewhere around 500, it’s not an exact science.” My dick is hard again. Throughout all of this, I have noticed how huge his penis is, but there’s been so much else to take in. “And you’re hard again! Oh this will be fun,” he playfully states. He lowers his under robe, a huge, footlong, and thick as a wrist dick springs out, balls the size of small lemons. “You may touch elsewhere, I have no intention of firing you,” he flashes a shark-like grin. ********************************** I gingerly touch his huge, throbbing cock with my hands, left hand towards the hilt, right hand towards the head. I push the skin back towards the hilt and forth towards me, I start gently jacking him. “I love that you’re into this,” he grunts, “I usually have to get prostitutes, no-one likes a man to be this size.” I try and steady my breath, I want to have a calm conversation and not get too ahead of myself. “This is something I’ve noticed, there’s some sizes that most people just think are too much -“ I start to say. “As if there’s a too much,” he says, before groaning again under his breath. “I couldn’t agree with you more,” I say. I grip his huge dick slightly more with my right hand, keeping the rhythm going, while playing with his enormous balls. “Once I finish I usually start shrinking a bit back to my normal size,” he says, “sometimes it takes a few extra hours to reduce down.” “Your normal size is something I was impressed by,” I reply. “Oh believe me, it can go so much more than that,” he says, smirking, “actually, I’m taking the stuff so often it seems to have a residual effect, my smaller sizes are much larger than they used to be.” He flexes his hairy pecs, I moan and bury my face in them. He lets out a moan of approval. As I rub the left side of my face into his pecs, he raises his left arm and shows me its progress. I groan involuntarily, lean over and start kissing the huge growing bicep and tree trunk arm. He’s even thicker and bigger than he was before. “I like food too much to be a ripped god, but I guess from your messages on your muscle growth profile you like men beefier anyway,” he says, his voice has now definitely dropped an octave. “Size and mass are my thing,” I say, leaning over to kiss his now much enlarged arms. “You’re perfect,” he says. I hear a low rumble come out of his chest as his body expands further. “I must be getting close to the 400lb mark,” he adds. I step back, my hand still working his huge, perfectly cut and girthy footlong. He has expanded. He’s now starting to seriously take up my view of the room behind him, even when I step back. “Oh my god,” i whimper, under my breath. “So you’re enjoying this?” He flashes me a grin with those beautiful, perfect teeth. His eyes catch the light streaming in through the windows. The dark brown gets turned to a slightly reflective brown in the sun. He’s perfect. He lets out a low moan as I run my tongue along my lips. His huge arms envelope my back and he holds me tight to his huge chest. My face is buried in between the crevice of his impossible pecs. His slabs of abs, not super defined, but there, press into my stomach beneath my shirt. He squeezes me harder and I let out an involuntary whine. He gets his big hands under my armpits and lifts me just above the ground so we are eye to eye. “I told you I get bigger,” he says, his eyes looking at his enormous biceps. I can see them actually swelling, now that he’s holding me. Every pump of his heart is leading the muscles to engorge slightly more. In this position, hovering just a foot above the ground, his huge body visibly expanding in front of me, I feel something I didn’t want to feel again this quickly. My dick starts tensing incredibly hard, and before I know it, my cream trousers are once again coated on the inside. He looks at me closely as I groan under my breath. Then he realises. “Again?” He says, his voice even deeper than before. Those perfect teeth make another appearance in between smiling lips. My face flushes and I nod. He puts me down and starts unbuttoning my shirt and undoes my belt as I take off my clothes hurriedly. He gets to my boxers and runs his fingers along the huge wet patch. I’ve always been proud of how much I can cum. He rubs his fingers into it, and takes them to his mouth, and licks gingerly. “You taste good, actually,” he says, hesitantly. I hear him groan slightly under his breath. The traps and his neck now have no definite start or end point. He reaches out his hands and forces off my shoes, boxers and socks. I stand naked, in front of the Prince of Thazzan, he at around 450lbs I must guess by now, just his undergarments on, torn clothes on the floor, sandals and head garment still on. He holds me close to him again, my back clicks slightly as he squeezes me, I whine again. He kicks off his sandals and pushes me to my knees. He bends his huge body down slightly to lower the undergarment to his ankles and slaps his heavy dick across my face. His hands connected to his huge swelling arms wrap around the back of my head and force the dick between my lips. He gets two thirds in and I gag. My jaw is fully relaxed as it’s the only way to ensure I don’t bite any part of it. He pulls my head back and then fully back into his dick. It gets around 9” in. I gag again. I look up at him, eyes watering, his eyes and eyebrows just visible beyond his pec shelf and huge stomach. “I’m going to have to train you,” he growls. I feel my dick start to helplessly tense again. It’s looking up at his huge body that’s doing it. I beg internally for it not to happen as his huge dick tries to explore my mouth further and work further down my throat. I try and pull my head back but it’s useless to try something like that when there’s a 480lbs muscle guy restraining you. I close my eyes as they water, tears streaming down my face as I let out a moan on his dick and I shoot across the marble. I open my eyes and look up at him through the tears, dick still firmly lodged down my throat, my breathing partially constricted on it. He smirks, “you’re passing all my tests.” He grabs me under the armpits again and lifts me up, puts me down on the ground and my feet land in my own sticky mess. Great. He takes two steps back and I can feel every bit through the marble. “It’s solid foundations beneath this, you know,” he boasts, “that’s how heavy I am.” He gets on to the floor, when his hands touch the floor I feel reverberations too. “Pass me a pillow,” he says, I dumbly oblige, standing in my own cum. “Lie down, head on the pillow,” he growls. I get on my front on the cool marble floor as he stands up. Bones and joints click in his body. “On your back. I want to see you when I do this.” I dread what’s coming. He’s a monster. I knew this was going to happen but I’m still not prepared for it in the slightest. He lifts me legs with such effort as he gets on his knees, and the floor shakes, that I feel my ass and body being lifted up, up to my neck. “Oops,” he grunts, “you weigh nothing now.” He sits my feet on his shoulders and look up. I’ve never been more turned on. If I tilt my head left or right he still dominates my view. I feel the pain as my hole is stretched beyond belief. His now 500lb body lowering into me. Every inch feels like six with the added girth and pain. I am paralytic from pain and can’t even scream. My mouth is open but no sound comes out. He lowers his head right up to mine, forcing my legs back into a position I didn’t think possible, but his weight made inevitable. He kisses me on the lips, before moving his mouth to my ear. “This is my biggest, do you like?” he rumbles. He raises himself back up as his dick starts working in and out of my hole. I just want it to be over. He can train me, but the pain is too much. It would take years to adjust to a dick like this. I finally find my breath and let out a yelp of pain. He puts his right hand beside my head, I feel the ground shake, and his left hand covers my mouth entirely. “Shhhh,” he says, “I thought you liked guys my size,” he smiles. He removes his left hand from my mouth and flexes his left arm in front of me. My hands reach out for his arm like a thirsty person reaching for water and I realise both of my hands have no chance of ever being able to reach around his huge tree trunk arms. One hand barely covers a quarter of the circumference. “Do you like guys my size?” He asks, flexing his hulk-like left arm as I reach at it like a pathetic kitten. “Yes,” I moan, in between trying to breathe when not all of the 12 inches are inside. “This is two pills,” he gives me a wide grin, “I’ve got an unlimited supply,” he continues. I moan in approval, my hands now roaming over his impossibly huge, hairy chest and body. “I can grow like this any time I want,” he continues, as I continue to feel his burgeoning form, “any time,” he repeats. His thrusts get stronger, heavier, I feel his dick tensing inside my hole. “If it were up to me I’d be big like this all the time,” he says, I feel my dick starting to tense again involuntarily, I know what’s coming. “I want to be bigger than this, and I can get bigger than this any time I want, I only want to be this kind of size, only you understand,” he lets out a load groan and I feel what’s coming. His dick is pulsing hard deep inside my gut. “I have no limit!” I yell. I feel my hole suddenly flooded with sperm, his orgasms seem to actually be getting stronger. He lets out a deep, masculine roar as he collapses onto me, my legs flexed fully back beside my head. My dick tenses again and pumps out what it can from the very active half an hour it’s had. His orgasms seem to subside slightly before he groans into the pillow again, his full 500lbs of weight is seriously restricting my breathing and I start to panic slightly. I feel his huge strong dick continue to pump and tense inside me before he lets out a slightly higher pitched grunt and he feels less heavy on me. We lie there, breathing heavily.
  6. Psuace

    m/m Muscle Worship, Series 3

    Muscle Worship, Series 3, Part 1, Merry Christmas Just a quick Christmas story for Max and Jay. Hope everyone enjoys. Have a Merry Christmas. “Merry Christmas my sexy lover boy.” I coo quietly into Max’s right ear as he lay next to me on our king-sized bed sleeping. He barely stirs. His curly brown hair is a tangled mess and covers half of his face. I gently pull a few strands off. He lays there, tightly swaddled up in the blue and white comforter. He stole more than his fair share of the blankets last night, as always, but I’ll forgive him. I nudge a bit closer and drape my right arm over his body and tenderly pull him closer to me, blankets and all. His body is emitting a faint Old Spice smell from his deodorant and shampoo. I inhale deeply to take it all in. I think to myself, ‘My sexy man, my reason for living. God, where would I be without you? Your endless love and support for me and every crazy thing I do. You stand there, right by my side with a smile and a positive word of encouragement.’ A tear comes to my eye. I wipe it onto the blanket. ‘Not sure why I deserve someone like you, but I am so happy we met and you have stayed with me these past 7 years.’ His body twists slightly, but he doesn’t wake. He moans quietly, twists again, and mumbles my name. He unconsciously pulls the covers tighter over his body. He stiffens, then relaxes. I hear him exhale deeply. I want to stay next to my Max until he wakes, but I have things to do before he gets up. I lean over and kiss his cheek. I carefully pull my arm from his body and, as gingerly as possible for a 265-pound man, roll to my side of the bed and swing my feet over the edge. I look back and he’s still facing the other way, breathing deeply. I slowly stand up and twist my neck. I hear the bones crack. It feels good. I pull on my slippers and head to the bathroom. I close the door and turn on the light. I stare at myself in the mirror, take a deep breath and exhale, and think, ‘Well, here you are big man.’ I take a look at my body. Not too bad for someone nearing 30. 6’3”, 265, mostly muscle. I flex a pec just for fun. It hardens and I think of all the times Max as lapped at my nipples, or bitten them, to get a reaction out of me. If he knew how close to shooting my load I came every time he beat my pecs or lovingly kissed them, he’d never get off my body. The man has skills. I flex a bicep and stare at it in the mirror. I smile, imagining his tongue slathering slobber all over it, then kissing it. His kitten soft COVID beard rubbing against my hairless skin. I feel myself start to harden. My red and gold geometric patterned PJ bottoms start to tent. I look away from the mirror and take a few deep breaths. I start to soften. I head to the toilet and point my semi-hard unit at the bowl. After I finish, I wash up, brush my teeth, turn the light off, and head back out. I quietly open the bedroom door and when I’m out, close it. I pad down the hallway to the living room. The artificial tree is up and decorated. Max’s doing. I just carried it up from the storage locker because I’m strong, and put the star on the top because I’m tall. I plug the lights in and the room is now in a warm glow. There are a wide variety of ornaments on it. Mostly ones we bought together, but a few from his mother and grandparents. I have some from Gran. I few special ones she gave me to remind me of my parents and brother. Max insists they go front and center. I reach out and touch the one which has a picture of the four of us the summer before the accident. I was so young and my brother was just a toddler. I rub my finger across my parents faces and ache at their loss. Another tear comes to my eyes. I rub it away with my forearm. I glance to the presents below. All shapes and sizes. Every one has a pile and all the gifts in that person’s pile has the same wrapping paper. Again, Max’s doing. I see the gifts I got for every one and wrapped. I am slightly embarrassed. Too much tape on one, not enough paper on another, or two kinds of paper on one. It happens when you misjudge how much paper you have left. I see the small box hidden under the tree, toward the back. It’s for Max and I hope he likes it. It took forever to find it. I had to do this one alone. I take another deep breath and head to the kitchen. I get stuff from the fridge and start to make our annual breakfast. The one day, more or less, we don’t count calories or worry about over-eating. It’ll actually be more like a week this year. Today is our day together, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just the two of us. Tomorrow, Gran’s for the day, spend the night, and then we all head to Max’s parent’s house for another day, or so he thinks is the plan. I start to crack some eggs into a bowl and get the bacon and scrapple on the stove. I check my phone for messages. None. Guess no one else is up at 8am today. Good for them. I pull the fruit salad out of the fridge and put it on the table to take the chill off it. I turn the oven on so I can keep stuff warm. I pop some bread into the toaster and get the juice out. I am knee deep in food prep; I miss hearing Max come into the kitchen. He sleepily says, “Merry Christmas Jay.” I feel his still warm body press against my back. He kisses my spine right between my shoulder blades. He puts his head against my back and wraps his arms around my mid-section. He pulls us closer together and I hear him hum. His curly hair rubs against my back and feels so nice. I stop what I’m doing, put the utensils down, and stare at the wall in front of me for a moment, taking in this special feeling and the man sharing it with me. He loosens his grip. I turn to face him. I lean down, he leans up, and we kiss. I cup his face and pull him closer. He gets on his tippy toes. We hold the kiss for a while, just enjoying the feeling. I break it first. I comb my fingers thru his messy curls and smile. He puts a warm hand on my chest and tenderly squeezes my pec. I don’t flex it and allow him to feel the muscle. He leans back in and kisses me between my pecs. It feels great. I smile. After another few moments, the toast pops up, bringing us both back to reality. I pull away slowly, look into his deep brown eyes and say, “Breakfast is almost ready.” He absently puts a hand on my forearm and pats it. He turns and walks back down the hallway. “Please grab me a sweatshirt on your way back.” He gives me a thumbs up. I get plates, silverware, utensils, and napkins out and onto the table. I pile the scrambled eggs into a bowl. I put them in the oven and turn my attention to the bacon and scrapple. I put some paper towels on the counter and move them to it. I let them drain for a minute and then put them on a plate and put it in the over too. Toast gets buttered and into the oven. I pull out some strawberry jam his mom made and put it on the table. I look up to see Max coming back down the hall. He’s changed from his polar bear fleece PJ bottoms to a pair of grey sweatpants and a long sleeve dark blue t-shirt with Dewey Beach printed across the front. He’s brought me a navy blue sweat shirt as well. He looks more awake. He hands me the sweat shirt and I pull it on. He sarcastically says, “Not sure why you need it? It’ll be coming off in about 10 minutes.” He cracks his winning mischievous smile and raises an eyebrow at me. I wink at him and retort, “That’s what you think sexy man.” He smiles and pulls me in for a bear hug. He squeezes as tightly as he can. I reach over his shoulder and rub his back. I kiss the top of his head, lean down, and snuggle with him. I feel his hands reach for my glutes and squeeze them. He breaks the hug and says, “What is there left to do?” He scans the kitchen to see if there is anything. “Max, everything is ready.” He looks at me with quizzical eyes. I sense his growing concern. I puff my chest out, expanding the sweat shirt to its limit and self-assuredly say, “Excuse me, Gran did teach me how to cook. Even though you do most of it, I am proficient in the kitchen.” I exhale, lean down, and kiss him on the nose. He laughs, pats me on the chest, as if appeasing me, and says, “Ok Emeril, let’s get the meal started.” I laugh with him. We sit and I spoon some fruit into our bowls. Granny Smith apples, mangos, and navel oranges. We take our time and talk. No reason to rush anything. Max talks about Ian and Colin’s latest adventures with Eddie. He must have gotten an earful at the last meeting of the Little Guy’s club. He says they are headed to the twin’s parents’ house in Central Pennsylvania for the holiday. I say, “I feel sorry for their parents, but I’m sure they’ve had to deal with worse.” He laughs. He then says, “Cam and Ming went to California to be with Cam’s mom.” I nod. “And Ty and Davey are still around, but keeping to themselves.” I look up and say, “Really?” “Yeah, Davey said he’s had a rough time recently and just wants to spend some alone time with Ty. He said they may head to the beach house if Kenny and Stu aren’t there.” I nod. We finish the fruit and I move the bowls to the sink. I put on a pair of oven mitts and start to pull items from the oven. I set them on the table. Max watches and nods with approval. As I sit, he starts to scoop eggs onto a plate for me, then some for himself. I grab a few slices of bacon and a slab of scrapple. He does the same. We both get toast. I go for the jam, but he does not. I look at him and ask, “Don’t like mom’s jam?” He shakes his head no and explains, “Ever since the night of chocolate and whipped cream, my craving for sweets has been different. I still love the jam, but not as often as I used to.” I think back to the night Max is talking about, and remember the long days we had around it. I reach my hand out and put it on top of his and tenderly caress him. I look him in his deep brown eyes and see a pain which I cannot take away. As much as I love Max, the things he has endured because of our being gay, and being proud of our relationship, hurts me deeply. Suddenly many memories flood back to me. When Max and I met and the beach and had our first run-in with Shawn, Max’s broken arm, and then his coma. I feel an anger in my chest and a pit in my stomach. I want to hold Max in my arms and cradle him, protecting him from the outside world, but I know I could never do that. Max would chide me for trying to protect him from the world, even though it has hurt him, and us, so many times. I come out of my thoughts and see him staring into my eyes. His other hand on top of mine, massaging it. He quietly says, “Don’t.” I know what he means. I close my eyes and take a deep breath and let the ugly memories flow away. I take another breath and open my eyes, feeling better. I smile at him. He smiles back. We dig into the food. It’s good. We both finish our first plates and I start to reach for more. Max is right behind me. We continue to talk, just small talk, weather, gym, work. With COVID shutting Ty’s gym, we are strapped for workout equipment. Sure, I can use Max as weight for bench presses or squats, but he is really at a loss. Ty offered to let us in the gym on the sly, but I said no and explained why. I don’t want him getting busted because someone was upset that they weren’t allowed to join us. Cam and Ming asked if they could borrow a flat bench and some weight and put them in their basement. Ty gave them some stuff. We try to get over there on the weekends. It’s hard to get into a good flow when 10 guys are crowding the basement for the few pieces of equipment they have. Working from home has been a challenge. Max’s programming job means he can work from anywhere. He just needs a stable connection. My mortgage underwriting job is pretty much the same. Give me a laptop and the internet and I’m good to go. But being around my OCD man 24/7 has been rough on both of us from time to time. Who’s turn is it to wash the dishes, or do the laundry, or flip the mattress. Ok, the last one is all me, I’m the one with the muscles, and he doesn’t let me forget it. We start to clean up and put everything into the dishwasher. As we finish, I hear him say, “I want to call my parents and see how Shae and Ro are.” I look over to him and nod. He then says, “Are you going to call Gran? It’s past 5am, so we know she’s up.” He giggles and I crack a smile, knowing he’s right. I hesitantly say to him, “Maybe in a bit.” He looks at me weirdly. “She sent me a text before you got up saying she was going to have her friends Mattie and Sam over for breakfast. I don’t want to interrupt them. I’ll call her after lunch.” He nods ok. He grabs his phone and speed dials his mom. He puts it on speaker. It goes right to voicemail. He frowns. When the phone beeps, he says, “Hey mom, Merry Christmas to everyone. We’re just finishing breakfast. Hope Shae and Ro got some great gifts. Give me a call when you get a chance. Love you.” He hangs up and stares at the phone. “She always answers. I hope nothing is wrong. Maybe I should call dad?” I step in and say, “Max, they’re probably opening gifts or something. Let them be. Mom will call you back soon enough.” He sighs and nods. I pull him into a hug. I quietly say, “Maybe we can open some of our own gifts to each other, hmm? Not the big ones, just one or two smaller ones.” I feel his hand reach for my unit through my PJ bottoms. “Max, I said not the bigger ones.” He sarcastically comes back with, “I know. I’m playing with one of my smaller gifts.” He lets out a raucous laugh. I laugh to myself, then bend down, pick him up, and toss him over my shoulder. I swat his butt and say, “Well there goes one gift back to the store. Want to try for another?” I carry him into the living room. I flip him back over, set him on the couch, and flop down next to him. He’s got a big grin on his face. I move in for another kiss. I can smell the bacon and eggs on his breath, as I’m sure he can smell them on mine. We get comfortable. I glance at the clock on the TV, 9:30. I announce, “Well, we need a little Christmas in this place, grab a gift for me to open and I’ll get one for you.” He smiles and jumps up. He goes over to the tree and starts to root through his pile of gifts for me. He pulls out a medium sized box. The wrapping paper he chose for me this year was White with silver bells and red holly berries on it. I follow him over and find a smaller box for him. It is wrapped in red paper with a green Christmas tree pattern. This one has a bit too much tape on it. We go back to the couch and hand them to each other. He rolls his around in his hand and says, “Are you sure you want me to open this, it’s wrapped pretty tightly?” I give him a sideways glance and gruffly say, “Keep it up sexy boy. That gift can go to the next person I see on the street.” He laughs and rips the paper off. He opens the box and sees the paper inside. He slowly takes it out and checks the box to make sure there is nothing else inside. “Just open the paper.” I say exasperatedly. He unfolds it and sees it’s a coupon for a massage at the spa he likes to go to. He suddenly has an ear-to-ear grin. “Oh Jay, this is great. Thank you very much.” He leans over and kisses me on the cheek. I start to unwrap his gift to me. Once I get the paper off, I see the box is an old shirt box I had. I glance at him wondering what he put inside it. I quickly open the lid and see four new pair of posing trunks. I blush and smile. There is a bright red one, a neon green, a metallic grey, and a purple thong. “Not too subtle there, Max.” I say holding up the purple thong. “I know Muscles, but I want you to look your best the next time you step on the stage.” I put the purple one back in the box and say, “I’ll wear that one when it’s just the two of us.” I pat him on the leg and give him a kiss. We go for two more. I get a couple workout shorts and he gets another Dewey long sleeve T-shirt. Another round. His turn for workout shorts. I get a remote car starter. Last round. I go for the gift hidden in the back and with some stealth, pull my phone out and click the video/record button. He pulls out another medium sized box. I put my phone next to me, out of sight and go first, slowly unwrapping the box. As I pull the lid off, I see a couple bottles of suntan lotion, SPF 100. Max immediately starts to laugh. I smile and laugh as well. I pull him close and squeeze him tightly. I say, “My sexy man, always looking out for me.” He picks up the box and rolls it around in his hand. He looks at me with questioning eyes. He says with humor in his voice, “Well, it’s too small to be the new 2021 BMW X5 I asked for.” I nod in agreement. “And I can hear something inside, so I know the box is not empty.” I nod again. “Maybe it’s the key to one.” His eye flare with excitement and he rips the paper off. He sees the deep purple velvet box and suddenly stops and turns face me. His mouth falls open, but no words come out. I take the box from his shaking hand. My hands are shaking just as much. I move off the couch and kneel in front of him. He’s still speechless. I open the box to show him two platinum wedding bands. There are tears streaming down his face. I choke up and start the speech I’ve been practicing for the past 3 months. “Max, my sexy man, my meaning for living, my everything. Seven years ago, you walked into my mundane life and it hasn’t been the same since. We have had some crazy times and some wonderful times; I just hope the wonderful times outweigh the crazy ones.” He’s still tearing up, as I start to do as well. “You know I care for you so much, but it’s probably not as much as you can imagine. I’d walk on hot coals or eat live spiders if I had to, to save your life.” His left hand reaches down to my face and massages my right cheek and jaw line. “You have been my beacon when I’m lost, my strength when I’m weak, and my lifeline when I’m drowning.” I pause and take a deep breath. “I cannot imagine my life going on without you in it. I know we’re in this for the long haul, but I want to make it official. I want to marry you. Will you be my husband?” He breaks down and is full out crying. Tears streaming down his face, lips trembling, and his right hand is a fist in his lap. His mouth opens again, but still no words come out, just some noises from the back of his throat. I get up off my knees and sit next to him again. I wrap my arms around him and twist him around into my lap so we are face to face. His red eyes match my flushed face. His nose is running and he sniffles to keep it from running out. He suddenly punches my left pec. I laugh and he does it again. I pull him in for a hug. After a minute, we’ve both calmed down. He pushes himself away from me, looks me in the eyes and quietly says, “Jason Matthew, I’d be honored to be your husband.” I start to cry again, as does he. He falls back onto body. I twist so we are now lying on the couch, with him on top of me. We start to passionately kiss. He puts his hands on both sides of my face and pulls us together. He holds on and just kisses me all over. I do the same to him. I wrap my arms around his back to make sure he does not slide off. As I hold him tightly, I feel his unit start to expand. I gently push him off me. He looks at me and says, “I thought we were in a good place just now.” “Oh, we were, and will be again. I just need to get a glass of water.” I lift him off my body and put him back on the sofa. I retrieve my phone and stop the recording. As I head to the kitchen, I text Ty and write ‘Now’. I get a couple glasses of water and head back to the living room. As I sit next to him again, he entwines his right arm with my left one. He looks at me and asks, “Do you want to put the rings on?” I nod. He grabs the box, pulls the rings out and slips his on. It fits perfectly. He pulls out mine and I put my hand out. He slips it on. Again, a perfect fit. I lean over and kiss him. I feel his right arm reach for my leg. I know where this is headed and need to cool his jets, and mine, or there will be a lot of explaining to do in a few minutes. I reach for his phone and say, “You need to take some photos for your mom and dad. I’m sure they’ll be excited. And what about Gran. We need to send her a photo too.” He shushes it off and says, “They can wait. This is our time to celebrate.” His hand becomes friskier. Gratefully there is a knock at the door. Max angerly says, “Who in the world is that on Christmas morning at ten o’clock? I have half a mind to tell them where they can go.” He says the last part a bit too loudly as he gets up from the sofa and heads to the door. He swings the door open and standing there are his parents and brothers. Next to them is Gran. Behind them are all our friends. His mouth falls open. Gran, ever the quick one says, “Well Max, where can we go?” He quickly turns to me and I just smile back to him. He turns back to the crowd and sheepishly grins. His youngest brother, Shae asks, “Can we come in, it’s kind of cold out here.” Max steps to the side and the gang piles in. He wades through the crowd and comes up to me. He narrows his eyes, he pokes me in the chest, and says, “We’re going to have words later mister.” I come back at him and sarcastically say, “Oh, there’ll be plenty of time for ‘words later’.” I air quote his phrase, “but right now is your time to be happy and show your family and your friends your ring, sexy man.” I lean down and kiss his nose. He looks me in the eyes, tears forming in his, and says, “I love you Muscles.” “And I love you too, Curly.” We kiss again and turn to face the crowd.
  7. pasidious

    m/m Becoming an Alpha - Part 2

    Part 1 Let me know what you think! ________________________________________________ I loved it. I mean, I absolutely loved it. I'd never gotten a blowjob before, and the experience was... phenomenal. My cock had never been so hard and throbbing. It was so intense. I got back home and couldn't help myself. I dropped--threw--my gym bag onto my bed and went straight for the mirror. I had a full length mirror, which I was SO thankful for right now. I stood there, gazing at myself. I was sort of out of breath, since I definitely rushed back, so I was breathing rather heavy, and I watched my shoulders rise and fall with my deep breaths. My wider, bigger shoulders. My chest was pressing outward in my T-shirt, which I absolutely loved. I had an actual chest now, which was so much more amazing than I ever imagined. It wasn't a huge chest, but it was something. I'd been waiting for this moment. I pulled the sleeves back on both of my arms and flexed into a double-bicep pose, and FUCK. My arms rose into these little balls of muscle that were definitely just little mounds of soft flesh this morning. Any dude watching me right now would still be all like "he's too small to be showing off" but I didn't care. I was bigger than I was before. And it felt so... fucking... GOOD. I pumped my arms a bit, flexing and unflexing, watching the muscle rise and fall. It was such a hot sight. And it was ME. Not another guy. ME. And my dick was of course responding. I felt myself getting harder and harder, and it was to my OWN muscle. I lifted up the bottom of my shirt and... YES! I had some abs. It wasn't a tight six-pack or anything, but there were bumps there. A start of a six-pack. The sign of an athletic body, even though they weren't defined. My dick throbbed. I saw a wet spot forming on the front of my pants. Which was quicker to happen than normal, but I was super turned on. So, I pulled my pants off and let my big throbbing dick bounce up and slap my new abs. Some pre drooled onto the carpet. I also took notice of my bigger, thicker legs. I flexed them and marveled at the muscles that formed when before I had nothing. It was incredibly hot. I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it, now standing completely nude, and yes, I was definitely looking more like I hit the gym than I did before. I laid down on my bed, shoving my gym bag to the floor, and gripped my cock with my hands. I shuddered. Pleasure was shooting through every fiber of my being. I began jerking myself off, rubbing my hands up and down on my angry, throbbing member. It felt SO GODDAMN GOOD. I sighed. I kept jerking myself, getting faster as the pleasure increased. I felt really pent up even though I'd just blown a load not an hour before. I felt the clear pressure of impending ejaculation, and I didn't stop. I had no interest in edging myself. I wanted it to happen NOW. And BOOM. My cock exploded. Cum shot out of it into the air, and I swear, that first white volley came within an inch of the ceiling. I heard myself moan. Another shot, almost as high as the first. FUCK! I've never cum so hard before. These are powerful shots. BOOM. Another shot, tapering off, but still feeling intense as that first. Each shot was rising into the air then falling right back onto my chest. My new pecs. Splattering all over. As soon as it was just a dribble, I lay there panting, cum all over myself. It took a moment to realize that I didn't grow like last time. So it was confirmed. At least as far as I was concerned. I needed a blowjob to grow. I cleaned myself off and showered. I was starting to wonder if it'd be better to shower at the gym. Either way, I needed to come up with a plan to get another dude to blow me. It only took 19 years to get my first blowjob, so what's another 19 years? NO. I couldn't think like that. I could definitely make it happen. Maybe I needed to show off the goods a bit more. Get my dick more on display. Fuck. But then I had an idea. Who did I know that was gay? I had to know someone. It was a pretty big college, so there had to be plenty of gay dudes around who'd wanna suck my dick. But then an idea struck me. Grindr. I'd fiddled with it in the past, but I got bored of the weirdos on there who I was simply not interested in. But now I was at college and I'd be able to see all the guys nearby who were gay and potentially looking for some fun. I took out my phone and redownloaded the app, and I was eager to get someone to blow me so I was moving swiftly. I laid down on my bed and set up my profile. I didn't even bother with a picture. I just made my tagline say "horny" and started browsing through the people who were online. I actually did see several dudes on there that I'd seen in passing, one of whom was even in one of my classes. A lot of the squares were blank, which told me a lot of guys still liked to stay incognito. Which was fine, all I needed was someone to suck my dick. I didn't really have the desire to initiate conversation with any of these guys. I was still nervous about the whole thing. I mean, I definitely wanted some head, but it just still felt weird doing this stuff. But I would think back to how it felt getting sucked, and the feeling of my muscles swelling... my cock was getting hard again just thinking about it. I started to nod off laying there. I hadn't received any messages, and I was getting kind of bored. But just as soon as I was about to drift off to sleep, I heard an alert from my phone. I immediately opened the app and saw the message and the sender. He had a profile picture, too. All he said was "Hi." He was attractive, with short brown hair and a dark stud in each ear. No visible blemishes on his face, which was a plus. I sent back "Hello." "Wyd" "Nothin much just chillin in my room hbu" "Looking?" "Just for some head but yea" "pic?" I sent him a face picture. I had some actual photogenic selfies saved to my phone which I used rather than taking a brand new one right now. "Nice" and then he also said "Dick?" Fuck. I guess it never occurred to me to get a pic of that. "Hang on," I responded. I needed to get hard, and fast. I switched apps on my phone and went into my photo gallery. I, of course, had photos of muscle saved in there. "Guys next door" type of muscle. My favorite. Nonchalant flexes. I started with my favorite one, a dude about my age grinning cockily and flexing a pretty big bicep still wrapped in a shirt sleeve. His arm was big and his shirt was the perfect size to accentuate his biceps. The sleeve was tight around that bicep. I felt my cock rapidly swelling within my shorts. I switched to another photo. This one was another amazing photo to look at for a guy like me. Two dudes in this one, but one was skinny standing next to his friend flexing a double bicep, his sleeves pulled back, and grinning. The skinny friend was looking at him smiling, but I could tell he was envious as hell. I loved to imagine the skinny friend feeling his muscled friend's biceps after that pic was taken. My cock surged in my shorts, growing to full size, and I quickly moved to another photo. This one had another guy around my age standing in front of his bathroom mirror taking a selfie of himself just standing there, completely naked. He wasn't flexing, just totally relaxed, but his body was amazing. Full pecs, 6-pack abs, round bulbous muscular shoulders and thick defined arms, and his cock was standing straight up. And my own cock was now throbbing hard. I quickly whipped my cock out and positioned my phone to take a photo. I snapped one, then another, and then yet another. I got multiple angles. I saw some pre beginning to seep out of my tip, and I was sure to get a pic of that, too. I didn't want to waste time so I opened Grindr again and sent one of my new dick pics to my new potential friend. "Fuck thats a big dick" "Yeah?" "Fuck yeah man youd destroy me thankfully i just wanna suck you hehe" and then "Got any more?" I sent him another one. "Shit yeah your dick looks delicious" and then he sent another pic of himself with more than just his face. Another selfie but it was taken from farther away to show his torso, but still clothed. He was cute, for sure. "Come over" I sent, along with my dorm location. "Ooo your close" he said, then "BRT" It took a moment for that to sink in. FUCK. I had another dude coming to my room to suck my cock. He'd be here in mere minutes. FUCK. I looked in the mirror and fixed my hair and made sure I looked alright. I had a cool shirt on, I think, and I had a clean pair of gym shorts on. I took my bottle of cologne and spritzed a tiny amount on myself. I felt so nervous. I was pacing the room, butterflies in my stomach. I'd never done this before. It seemed so odd to me to be doing this. I never imagined myself in this position. I kept checking my phone, thinking he'd have sent a message I didn't hear canceling on me. I also kept double-checking my appearance in my mirror. I had a brief moment in which I took notice of my new frame after my first blowjob. My shoulders were noticeably wider, and I didn't realize until now how much higher the bottom of my T-shirt reached now. If I raised my arms, part of my stomach was exposed. I did really fill out this shirt more. But then suddenly I heard the knock at the door, which sent the butterflies in my stomach into overdrive. I had to take a deep breath. Not wanting to appear too eager, I slowly walked over to the door, sluggishly looking through the peephole and seeing it was indeed him, and unlocked it. I gripped the knob, and again, slowly turned it and opened the door. He stood there, looking me right in the eye, and smiled. "Hey," he said. I felt myself swallow, but my mouth was dry. FUCK I needed to get over this nervousness. I stepped aside and said "Come on in, man." He walked in and stood there as I shut the door. "What's up?" he said, as we awkwardly stood there. "Uhh, to be honest, I've never done this before, so I'm kind of nervous," I confessed. "It's alright man, I get it, I just wanna please you," he smiled, "Come on." He took my hand and guided me to my bed and pressed his hands into my chest til I sat on the end of my bed. He sat down beside me and put his hand on my leg and slowwwllllyyyy slid it up, then down my leg, occasionally allowing his fingers to knead my quads. I felt some stirring in my crotch area. "You're even sexier than I thought you'd be," he said. I felt my face go red, and I couldn't think of anything cool to say so I simply said "Thanks." He let his hand become more adventurous and it inched its way closer to my dick. I felt myself getting harder. I felt myself shudder, and the sexual tension was starting to become overwhelming. My nervousness was still there, and I had this overbearing uncertainty as to how to behave in this situation. I didn't know what my hands should be doing. Should I be touching him, too? Should I be doing the same thing to him? "Relax, man. Let me please you," he almost whispered, and then his hand grabbed my cock through my shorts. "Whoa..." he said rather loudly. His reaction was genuine, and I still had trouble believing my cock was something so amazing. He stroked me through my shorts and let his hand travel the entire length. "You're fucking big. Like, the pic you sent didn't do it justice." "Thanks," I said, sheepishly, while trying to refrain from squirming. His hand on my cock felt SO GOOD. "Stand up for me, sexy," he said. Then added "Please." I stood up, and he followed suit. He put his hands on my shoulders, then kissed me right on my lips. I was surprised a little, but it felt so right. I liked the kiss. At first it was pretty subdued, but then he really got into it, and I returned the kiss just as hard. We both let our tongues entwine, and my hands had moved to his hips, and very quickly, I pulled him into me, and I felt our hard cocks press together. It was a hot feeling. He moaned a little, his mouth still on mine. His hands began to move, his hands running down my arms, stopping at my upper arms. He gripped them, and squeezed. He broke the kiss, and said "Oooo someone's got some muscles," and I honestly didn't know how to respond. I wanted to kiss some more, but his attention was on my arms now. He was squeezing and running his hands over them, and then he said something that surprised me more than anything else had so far. "Flex for me, sexy." "What??" I said, with a little more surprise in my voice than I'd intended. "Please? Show me your biceps. They feel big. I wanna see." "Ummm, alright," I said, again, sheepishly. I brought my right arm up and flexed it the way I always see other guys do it. Held it parallel to the floor and straight out from my body, and bent my arm while tensing the biceps. My arm contracted into the nicely sized ball of muscle that had grown since my first blowjob. I saw his eyes watching it the entire time I did it, and they widened when my bicep appeared in its fully flexed glory. I hadn't moved the sleeve back, though, so some of it was still covered. "Hot," he whispered. I started to lower my arm and he said "No! Not yet. Please keep it flexed." So I flexed again, and he pulled the sleeve back himself, exposing my entire upper arm and part of my shoulder. "Fuck," he breathed, while reaching his hand up and running his fingers over the ball of muscle. He then wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed, and to my own surprise, there wasn't much give, if any at all. "It's so hard, too," he said. I was feeling pretty good about my muscular development right about then. I'd never had anyone compliment my muscles before, and here was this dude practically drooling over my biceps. So, I felt a bit more confident. I lowered my flexed arm, which made him open his mouth to protest, but I quickly pulled the sleeve back on my other arm and went into a double-bicep flex. "FUCK!" he exclaimed, and immediately had one of his hands on each of my arms. My cock was throbbing hard at this point, and I could feel pre leaking. "Fuck," he said again, and I watched as he took one of his hands and started jerking himself through his shorts. He then dropped to his knees, and tugged on my shorts. "Please?" he asked, his eyes looking up at me like a puppy. "Fuck yeah," I heard myself say. "Mmmm" he voiced his approval, and slowly pulled my shorts down, allowing my cock to finally break free from its confinement. As soon as the elastic band of my shorts moved far enough, my cock bounced out, standing straight up, and some pre flung out and hit him on his chin. "Wow, you're already leaking," he said, then used his finger to wipe his chin and licked it. "Sweet," he said. And then he didn't waste any time. He immediately popped the head of my cock into his mouth and used his tongue to run around my tip. My whole body was filled with electric pleasure, and the tingling was running through every fiber of my body. "Ohhh god..." I moaned, and I felt myself getting hornier. My cock literally felt like it was growing harder with each passing second, and the feeling of his tongue flitting around the head of my cock was astronomical. It left me bereft. My moaning signaled him to turn up his sucking a few notches. He slowly took more of me into his mouth, sliding his lips down my shaft centimeter by centimeter. His tongue expanded its domain, running all over, and he had his hands gripping the backs of my legs, squeezing and massaging them. To be completely honest, that was making it feel so much better. "Unnghhfuck," I moaned, feeling the cum welling up within my balls, the pressure building. My whole body was tingling in the same way it was last time, and I knew I was going to grow again. I needed to cum. I flexed my dick, feeling it throb hard, and my pleasurer could surely feel my dick pulsing. He sucked harder and harder, even emitting some slurping noises. "Ohhh god, fuck!" I exclaimed. The pressure was reaching its peak, and I could tell I would cum any second. "UNNGHH" I grunted, as the pressure breached its containment threshold. "I'm cumming!" I yelled, and I felt the fine sensation of cum shooting into my shaft, and then out of my tip. It was strong and forceful, and my dick throbbed hard with each shot, swelling just a tiny bit each time. He took every shot in his mouth, spilling none, and gulped loudly as he swallowed all of it. To be honest, though, I wasn't all too concerned with my orgasm. Yeah, it felt amazing, but I was almost shaking with excitement for the aftermath. After my fourth shot, I figured I was done and gently pushed him off my dick. I wanted to see myself grow. He looked surprised as hell when I pushed him away, but I wasn't concerned right now, and I had a feeling he wouldn't be either in a moment. "Watch what you just did to me," I said, before he could protest what I did. I felt it welling up within me. I walked over to the mirror, a new girth and weight in my crotch as my dick swung between my legs oozing cum onto the floor. He looked confused as hell when I saw his face in the mirror. I smirked, and focused my attention my body. I stood there, relaxed, watching my entire body. It was still a shock to see my newly toned body from the growth that already occurred. My chest was heaving and my heart was pounding, and I couldn't tell if that was an effect of my excitement or if it was the reaction taking place within my body. "Ohhhh fuuuuuck," I moaned, and I felt like my entire body was experiencing an orgasm as I watched all of my muscles swell bigger. My pecs visibly grew and pushed out from my chest, my slight cleavage becoming more of a valley. My abs clenched and tightened, and I watched as six bricks etched deeper into my stomach. My legs thickened, and it felt incredible to feel my thighs touch each other. I flexed them and watched my quads burst into definition, heads of muscle visible when before, I'd have assumed I had no muscle at all in my legs. "Holy shit," I heard from behind me. I saw his face in the mirror and it was of pure astonishment. He almost looked fearful. "Yeah--ungghhh--get a good look, I'm still--grnnn--growinggggg," I managed to get out before I felt my arms involuntarily flex and pulse, and I watched as they grew slightly bigger and thicker with each heartbeat. Veins were coursing over my arms, and I clenched my fists and watched my forearms thicken and swell into the arms you'd see on a real gym-rat. The kind you'd see on a guy and you'd just KNOW he was strong. "Ohhhfuck yeah, fuuuck yeahhhhh..." The words came out of my mouth but I wasn't even thinking them. The sensation in my arms was overwhelming my senses, and my favorite muscles were growing. Biceps are the mark of dominance and power, and mine were growing. I watched my biceps throbbing bigger with each pump of my heart, thickening and growing. And then I saw my arms angling more outward from my body, and I realized my lats had been swelling a little bigger. It was astonishing even for me to see how my arms didn't just hang at my sides, they were angled out now. FUCK. And my shoulders swelled up some, too, widening with my lats, and I now had obvious traps, eliminating that "pencil-neck" appearance I once had. "SHIT! This is so hot!" I heard my cocksucker exclaim, and I noticed he was standing now, watching me in the mirror intently. His dick was standing straight up. I turned around and looked him right in the eye. "You like this?" I asked, standing there with my chest heaving from my heavy breaths. I gestured at my own body, completely nude. He nodded rapidly, and I saw his eyes darting from body part to body part. His dick was oozing precum. "How about this?" I asked, and made my pecs jump and bounce. FUCK! I could never do that before. Again, he nodded rapidly. I flexed my legs, next, and they once again exploded into definition, and my quads were impressively bulging. I couldn't wait to try on some old shorts to see how they fit me, now. "You like muscle? Well, watch THIS," I said, then flexed my arms into a double-bicep pose, and I felt this immense power as I did it. I felt fucking strong as hell. "Fuck yeah!" And then I watched him shut his eyes, his body shuddered, and his little dick exploded cum all over the floor. He didn't shoot very much, but he definitely came. "Ohhhhgodnngggh" he moaned. I dropped my arms and chuckled. "Okay, well, I hope you enjoyed the show, dude, but I got other things to do, so here are your clothes--" I handed him his clothes, "--and I will see you around!" and I guided him out of my room and shut the door. I went back over to my mirror and couldn't believe what I saw. I was so much bigger than before. I was almost huge. My arms were hot. So hot. I loved biceps, and I really wanted to see if I could rip through some sleeves. "Fuck yeah," I said to myself, as I imagined the ways I was going to enjoy my new body.
  8. GrowManGrow

    m/m I See You

    If this type of story is your cup of tea, please consider subscribing to my GrowManGrow Patreon page for more like it: https://www.patreon.com/growmangrow I see you. Yeah, you. I know you’ve been trying to sneak photos of me with your phone. It’s pretty obvious that’s why you’ve been following me around this grocery store. Of course, I noticed! It happens all the time. Little guys like you are always trying to get pics of me wherever I go. It’s not like I blame you. Just look at me. But you don’t gotta be sneaky about it. If you want a photo so you can jack off to it later, I’ll happily pose for you. Did it not occur to you to just ask for one? Why not? You think I spent all the time in the gym for a body like this *not* to get noticed. I love attention, man. I want people to check me out. Why else would I wear such a tight shirt and these short shorts? Admiration makes me super horny. So be a man and tell me you want a fuckin’ photo. There you go. Happy now, or is there anything else you want? My name? It’s Hank. It’s nice to meet you, Dillon. How old are you? Like 20 or 21? Really? I’m 23 as well. Hard to believe since we look so different, right? You must be what…5’6” and maybe 130 pounds? I’m 6’4” and closing in on 260. Yeah, double your weight. That’s why you see all the chicken and eggs in my cart. Protein, man, to keep me growing. I’m hoping to get up to at least 320 and keep my body fat under 10%. It’s gonna mean a lot of time in the gym pumping iron, but it’s worth it. Since you like looking at big men, Dill, what’s your favorite body part to ogle? C’mon, man, spit it out. Stop with all the fuckin’ shame and secrecy and tell me what gets your cock hard. Big arms, huh? Yeah, I like that on a guy, too. There’s just something about a pair of massive biceps and triceps that scream masculinity, right? To have the power to lift huge weights, crush whatever you want, and take on any other guy in a fight. That’s why I work my arms all the time – they’re up to 22 inches right now and just about to blow through the sleeves on this shirt. See that little tear….soon it’s gonna rip all the way down the sleeve. Go ahead, touch ’em. You ain’t gonna hurt ‘em, Dill. Really dig in there. Pretty hard, huh? Oh, you like the veins snaking across my bicep. Yeah, the blood is feeding my muscles with the protein I had for breakfast. They’re probably growing right now as I flex for you. Getting bigger just so you can be extra impressed, Dill. I’m glad you like them. Do you ever dream about having arms like these? Fantasize about having biceps so strong that you can curl 200-pound barbells like they were nothin’? Peaks as big as bowling balls and as hard as concrete? You do, huh? Me, too. That desire was what made me go to the gym every day for the past 7 years and not leave until I owned the biggest pair of pythons. Nothing makes me feel more like a man than these babies. You like my chest, too? Thanks. I used to think it was one of my weaker body parts, but I’ve really been blasting it the past year to bring it up to par with everything else. Now it’s deep and thick and full of power. Go ahead, you can feel it, too. Who cares what the other shoppers think? I told you – no shame, no judgment, Dill. You like what you like, and I gave you permission, so fuck anyone who tries to give you grief. Reach under my shirt and take a big handful of my pecs. Feel how heavy they are. And when I flex, I bet you can’t even budge ‘em, right? I knew you couldn’t. They’ve just grown too big and powerful for your dainty little fingers. I’ve bet I’ve got more muscle in just my chest than you have in your entire body. I use my mighty pecs to bench around 540 pounds for reps – that’s more than 4 times what you weigh, Dill. Can you believe it? You and three of your little friends could be hanging from the bar and it still wouldn’t be enough to challenge my strength. Oooh, I like the little tickling you are doing – it’s making my nipple hard. I bet you would give almost anything to lick it in bed, right? Suckin’ on daddy’s big muscle tits? I’m making your cock tingle? That’s good to hear, Dill. I like that you said it out loud. I bet you have never told anyone that before in the middle of a grocery store, huh? Tell me again, but do it louder so everyone around us will hear. Nice! Fuck that old lady and her scowl – she just doesn’t understand muscle lust. It can make you do crazy things, right? You see a hot guy, get filled with testosterone, pop a huge boner, and who knows what will happen. God, you’re revving my engine, too. I sure like it when a man appreciates all my hard work in the gym. I like it when he wants me to grow bigger and stronger. If you were my boyfriend, Dill, I’d use my big muscles to keep you safe and protected all the time. I’d be a warrior for you. And I’d – ooh, it feels like your little hand is moving down to my abs. Yeah, they are hard and flat. Most men my size put on a gut, but not me. I fuckin’ want the cobblestones and work damn hard to keep’ em. Takes a lot of cardio to keep the flab off, but it’s worth on it when I take off my shirt and everyone leers with jealousy at the rock-hard ridges in my mid-section. Nothing completes the total package like broad shoulders and a huge chest tapering down to a strong razor-cut waist. Oh, you like fingering those ridges in my abs, eh, Dill? Maybe we can head over to the baking aisle and get some whipped cream in there for your tongue to dig out. Would you like that? I kind of figured you would. You little guys can always go crazy with your tongues. I bet you could do wonders with your tongue up my ass, too. Are you an ass-man, Dill? Not as much as you like legs? Ok, well, check out my stems. 35 inches around of pure fuckin’ steel. Big as my waist! Some guys skip leg day but not me. I will keep squatting until I either puke or faint. Gotta have big legs, man, to hold up this massive body. Mine have grown so huge that there’s no space between them – they’re like two concrete posts right up next to one another. Yeah, rub ‘em. Oooh, nice. You’ve got the touch, Dill. My upper thighs are so sensitive...they are getting warmer…hotter…like burning with desire. I can feel the electricity surging from them to every part of my body. Can you see the outline of my cock bulging in my shorts? Hard to miss, ain’t it? I saw you staring at my size 17 feet earlier and knew you were trying to guess if I was well-endowed in the cock area, too. To answer your question, yes, most definitely. Soon the tip of my footlong penis is gonna get so erect it'll stick out through the bottom of my shorts. Yeah, of course you can touch it. It’s as big and hard as the rest of me because I give it a daily workout as well. And it loves plowing into little guys like you. What’s that? You wanna suck me off? Good, I thought you would never ask. Of course, I’ll let you, but you gotta two things. First, promise me you’ll suck down everything that shoots out of there. Every last drop. Don’t want to waste any of daddy’s special sauce, right? I need you to slurp it all up. Who knows, maybe some extra protein might put some muscle on you. Would you like that, little guy? Yeah, who wouldn’t want to be a muscle stud like me, OK, second, you gotta let me return the favor and suck you off as well. I bet you want to cum all over me something awful, right? Ha, I thought so. Well, I want that get my Hoover wrapped around your cock and balls and feast on what you have to offer. Deal? OK, then. Let’s hit the restroom and get it done there. After that, we’ll go back to your place for a real fucking. I don’t care if you got a roommate. He can watch if he wants, or he can join in. We’re going back to your place to fuck, and then you can make me a huge lunch so I can keep growing, OK? I want to be full of protein for my second workout of the day later on. You can come watch me pump iron if you want. And if all the sweaty action is too much for you, we can go into the gym showers and blast each other again. I knew it was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Now let’s go, Dill, before my cock explodes right here in the vegetable aisle.
  9. photoguy

    brothers Fraternal - P 8 up now

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

    muscle growth Grindr Growth

    Alright, forgive me, please, but this may be a bit unrefined. I worked on this for far longer than I initially wanted to. It was supposed to be a simple, very short story. And then it became what it is. Weeks after starting it, I finally finished. And I'm not even sure I'm happy with it. But, I hope you can at least somewhat enjoy it. As usual, no one in the story is under 18. _______________ Grindr is probably the worst app ever. Wait. Scratch that. PEOPLE are the worst. All Grindr does is connect us to others. And I've found that people can't read or are just plain dumb. I don't know. Either way, I specifically put in my description that I'm attracted to muscular dudes. It's clearly written. So why, oh, why do I constantly still get a bunch of old saggy creepy dudes or skinny twig twinks? And a ton of fat blobs?? I mean, I know I'm no adonis. I'm not exactly a model, either. But I can't help what turns me on. I can't force myself turned on to settle for whatever I can get. If I have to force myself hard, then I might as well just jerk off. No need to involve anyone else. Grindr continues to be a failed experiment for me. I can't win with it. But there's this one ridiculously skinny twink dude who will not relent. I've ignored him, told him no, told him I'm not into him, and all manner of things to reject him. He still constantly messages me. I'm not one to block people. I hate when it's done to me, so I rarely block others. This dude hasn't done anything in particular to offend me. He's just eager and relentless. I have a pretty big cock. Not gonna lie. Eight inches and thick. I used to think I was average until I downloaded Grindr for the first time and got a glimpse of what else is out there. And the reactions I get when people see my cock... it's astounding. So, yeah, not my words. I have a big cock. Which, I suppose, is why many are hungry for it. But I'm turned on by only one thing. Muscle. Which is a concept lost on many. But this relentless dude. He's another level of dense. He doesn't get it. He is convinced I can make an exception. Like he can do something for me that no one else can. He ain't muscular, so it ain't gonna happen. And I've tried. Lord knows I've tried. I can't force it, though. I've even tried in the past to imagine muscles and muscle growth and anything else I can to get hard and stay hard. But it never works. I need the real thing. And he's convinced he needs my cock. "Dude you need to stop. I can't deal with you every day messaging me nonstop and I've told you a billion times by now I'm turned on by muscle." "You haven't experienced what my mouth can do." "Unless you explode into a muscle god from sucking my cock, I don't think there's anything you can do. You're a twig." Which was the most recent transcription of our conversation thread. And he did suddenly stop after that. He'd usually keep barraging me with more messages protesting my stubborn stance, but I'd never been so direct as in my last message. I guess I finally got through to him. But then two days later I got another message from him. I, of course, heard the telltale alert on my phone and, probably too eagerly, opened the app to see who the message was from. And my mood instantly dropped when I saw it was from him. "FUCKING hell," I thought to myself. I honestly thought he was done. "If I workout, will you let me suck you?" was his message. I wanted to plain ignore the message. I didn't want to acknowledge it. I didn't want to open the flood gates for more constant pestering. I didn't believe for one second he'd actually pick up a weight, and even if he did, he'd never do shit with it. But, somehow, the idea of him working out still intrigued me. I'm so attracted to muscle that I figured, what the hell? Let's see if he does anything. And it ain't like he's ugly. He's actually cute. What if he did add some muscle to his body? "If you workout AND add some muscle, then yeah, I'll consider it." And then silence from him for hours. It was past midnight when I got another message. "How much?" "How much what?" "Muscle." "You mean weight?" "Yeah." "Idk dude, decide for yourself." "I need a goal. Set it for me." I sighed. "Uhh, let's say 20 lbs." "That it?" "Don't underestimate how hard it is to gain muscle." "Don't underestimate how bad I want that dick." "Fine make it 50lbs." Then more silence. An hour goes by. Another message. This time a video. "What the fuck," I think. I figured it'd be some dirty and vulgar video, but it was surprisingly something else. The video started with him pointing his phone at his bathroom mirror at his thin, shapeless body. He's shirtless, wearing only cotton shorts, and he points the camera down at a digital scale. The number reads 102. And then the video ends. And then a text message. "Just showing you my starting point. Made it a video so you know I ain't lying." "Ok" was all I could think of to respond with. Still didn't believe for a second he'd actually do anything. I expected he'd be back to his old self in a day or two, messaging me nonstop begging to let him suck me off. "Ok?" he responded after several minutes. "Yeah." "Don't you wanna see me gain muscle?" "Ngl dude I don't think you'll do shit. I'll be surprised as hell if you do, but most dudes who wanna workout don't realize the amount of pain and effort that goes into it and quit within a month. If that." "We'll see." And then he shut up. He didn't say another word. I expected more pestering about letting him suck my dick, promising he'd be bigger soon or some shit, but he said nothing. A week goes by. I still check Grindr and reject the usual dudes who think I'll go for some geriatric action or some other gross shit. But the skinny twink's tile continues to show up. Which, of course, isn't surprising. What was surprising was the silence. Not one word from him. But then he surprised me a bit. His tile was always blank. Like he was one of those "DL" guys who doesn't wanna be seen. But one day a little over a week later his tile was suddenly a decent face picture. "Huh," I thought to myself. "That's weird." I, of course, can never help myself. I open the Grindr app all the time to check to see who's around. I never know when I might encounter someone new who's interesting or maybe even muscled that may actually wanna meet up. But skinny twink is always there. Always on the app. His tile stays right there at the top every time I open it. Another week goes by and his tile remains the same. His new profile picture still throws me off. I can't understand why he was always blank and then suddenly he has an actual photo of himself. Just a simple image of his face, a cute smile. Nothing too cheesy, of course. Just like a school picture or something. But still, he hasn't said a word to me. I found myself half-tempted to actually open his profile and read if he changed anything there. But the app has that new feature that lets people know when you've viewed their profile. I didn't want to open the flood gates. But then there was a new picture. A different picture. It still showed his face. But he wasn't smiling. I mean, it wasn't like he was scowling or anything. But it was definitely an expression upon his face that was more confident. And what's more, it was a little farther away from his face, showing his neck a bit more. And, in the photo, it was clear he was shirtless. Still could only see him mostly from the neck up, but it was clear there was no shirt worn while the photo was taken. Now, this may not seem like an abnormal thing. "So what?" you may be asking. Well, I just recall a more thin appearance to his neck. Maybe I was imagining things. But his neck looked thicker. And, I also didn't even want to believe it, but his traps seemed to be... well, there. Again, might all be inside my head. Maybe the fact that my imagination was running a bit wild after our last conversation and my mind was playing tricks on me and I actually wanted him to workout and bulk up. Well, hell, I did actually want him to workout. I'd love to see a dude actually pick up weights and gain muscle thanks to me in some way. Just... never thought it'd have been in this particular way. But his relentless pestering has always made me want to dislike him. But I couldn't allow myself to get all excited over what will likely amount to nothing. Maybe he was working out. But he'll still be the same skinny twink in the end. Even if he does gain a little weight. I mean, come on. Twinks never really get thick with muscle anyway. What was I even thinking?? I was surely imagining things, anyway. Why was I thinking about this dude so much? I closed the app and moved on to something else I needed to focus on. As it would happen, I didn't actually bother to open the app again for a few days. Work was consuming a lot of my time and even though I'd often be horny, it's not like looking at the app ever amounted to anything anyway, so I would just look at my usual muscle porn, jerk off, and call it a night. By the time I actually did decide to look at Grindr again, it was maybe four days later. The tiles loaded up on the screen of my phone and, of course, it was the usual faces to which I'd grown accustomed after all this time. This area didn't change much. But skinny twink wasn't there. I was surprised. I guess maybe he hadn't been on the app in a while, either. I sometimes had to wonder to myself why I even bothered with Grindr. It's not like I ever really found anyone worth a damn. I was constantly disappointed, and what few dudes I'd actually talked to who I wanted would ghost me. But, I'd still always log on and check it out. But then he reappeared at the top of my list. And this time it was one hell of a new profile picture. I honestly didn't even know it was him at first. I just saw the pic and said to myself "wow"... because the picture was of a flexed arm. A biceps that had to be the size of a tennis ball flexed into a perfect shape, which is of course something that caught my eye immediately. I touched the tile and got a closer look of the sexy arm, and when I swiped the photo to get another image, I saw his face. At first I thought I'd accidentally swiped too hard and I switched to the next profile, but in seconds I felt my heart thud in my chest as I realized it was the same dude, same profile. Skinny Twink. "No fuckin' way," I said aloud to myself. He had to be stealing that photo and trying to pass it off as his own. But the next image he had on his profile dispelled any doubt. He was mugging for the camera, flexed biceps into hardness, and even the top portion of his now developed pecs were in the image. He had a slight cleft between his chest muscles. "Holy fuck," I said aloud to myself. And then I heard the Grindr alert noise that I received a message. And it was from him. Of course it was from him. He got the notification that his profile had a new view. And it was from me. So, no hiding the fact that I've seen his new muscular development. "Want head?" was what his message said. Of course it did. Even with his new muscles he was still the same guy. I didn't respond. I mean, how could I? What would I even say? I didn't want to gush over his new development. I didn't want to come off as too eager. And I hated myself for now being entirely attracted to him. I DID want head. And I wanted to feel his new muscles the entire time. He wasn't huge or anything, based on the photos he has publicly viewable. But his new muscles were tight and sexy. And, I suspected he'd probably continue growing. I felt my cock throb in my shorts. But then he sent another message. "Told ya I wanted that dick. Like what you see?" He baited me. And I took the bait. "You got good at photoshop, huh?" I said. Immediately he hit back with "Lol!" And then a few minutes went by. I put my phone down thinking he'd say nothing else, but then he came back with "How's this?" and seconds later an image came through. And my dick spurted some pre right into my shorts. He was flexing his arm again, this time with a shirt on, but his bicep was bulging up into the sleeve with no space. He made sure his face was in the image as well, and he was smirking. A new thing for him. He'd smile in his pics, but never smirk. This was a look of confidence. "Just took that one" he said. Trying to remain in control, I replied with "How much?" "How much what?" "How much weight you gain?" I asked. And this time many moments went by. I thought he was trying to come up with some plausible number for me to believe since I was still suspicious of whether or not he was being for real. But then the Grindr alert for a new message came through, and it was a video. I eagerly played it. It was very much like the first one he ever sent me. He was standing in the bathroom in front of his mirror, shirtless, and only cotton shorts on. But the similarities ended there. His shoulders were rounded, broader, and his chest was pushing out when before it was completely flat, almost sunken. And he had fucking abs now. Abs! Nothing crazy, barely a 4-pack, but still, abs! And his arm hanging at his side as he held his phone was taut and had the clear appearance of a worked-out arm. His forearm was clearly thicker, and his bicep was bulging even in a relaxed state. And it was just a brief image as he smirked still for the camera right before looking down at the same scale as before. The digital number read 124. Before I could even respond to the video, he sent another message. "22!" I couldn't help myself and I replied with "Jesus". "Can I suck you off now?" he asked. "I thought your goal was 50." "Dude I'll get to 50 and probably more. But you initially said 20. I beat that. I wanna suck that big cock." And my cock was oozing pre into my shorts just at the idea of being able to touch his new body. I felt myself acquiescing. It wasn't quite registering with me that he grew this much in only a month. But I didn't care. "Fine come suck my dick but if you wanna be sure I'm hard and throbbing you gotta show off those muscles for me" "Dude it's literally the whole reason I started working out" and then "What's your address?" I stared at my phone, marveling at the fact I finally did it. I finally got a dude to workout and gain muscle. And it was, according to him, all for me. I couldn't believe it. "??" He was clearly impatient. And I forgot I needed to tell him where I lived. And I told him my address right away. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a certain element of whiplash. I went from rejecting this dude whole-heartedly to wanting him in an instant. And not just to suck my cock. And it was a true testament, for me, that muscles truly are the driving force behind my sexuality. Like, yeah, I liked dudes. But my cock only truly responded to muscles. I paced my place, suddenly nervous about the idea of meeting this dude. And, there was still a part of me that believed he was putting on a good and convincing act. I still partially expected to see the same skinny twink when I opened my door. And I wasn't sure exactly how I'd react if that were the case, but if it was, I was hoping I could withhold my tongue well enough to simply slam the door in his face. But then there was a knock on my door. My heart pounded in my chest. I opened the door, and there he was. He was shorter than I expected him to be, but I shouldn't have been surprised. He was fully clothed, and I didn't know if he wasn't quite used to the idea of having muscle on his frame or if he intentionally did it, but he was fully clothed and it wasn't in the type of clothing a gym-rat wears. Most dudes, when their bodies are burgeoning muscle, seek to show it off in any way possible. I would have expected a sleeveless shirt or something, but he was wearing nerd clothes. A stupid too-large t-shirt with one of the billion Call of Duty logos across the top front. And plain gray joggers with black accents around the quad area. His dirty blonde hair was a bit disheveled but that's how it always looked, even before. But, in spite of this, it was still clear he'd put on muscle. His chest was pushing out on that Call of Duty logo. His developing traps were pushing out of his neck a bit, which actually was made obvious thanks to the oversized shirt having a larger neck hole. And, I wasn't too sure on this, but either his quads were thick and wrapped nicely by those joggers, or it was just an affect of the joggers themselves. Hard to say these days with the trendy pants dudes have been wearing lately. And as he stood there, he had this slight grin on his face, and he gave a little wave in greeting, raising his arm and causing his forearm muscles to writhe a bit. "Can I... come in?" he asked. I didn't say anything I just stepped aside. He stepped past me and entered my home, and as I shut the door I turned around to look at him and he'd already made his way into the living room. "Can you... take off your shoes, please?" I asked. "Oh yeah of course dude," he said, and removed his shoes and placed them by the door where I was still standing, brushing past me as he did so. Looking at his form, knowing what was waiting under those clothes, I knew I should be getting hard, but my nervousness was keeping my cock at bay. I moved towards my sofa to sit down, hopefully to encourage him to do the same. I like to ease into these things. I didn't want to just drop my pants. But as I stepped forward, I felt a hand around my arm and he spun me around. I looked down at his face and he was slightly smiling. "Don't keep me waiting," he said, and immediately reached down and palmed my crotch through my pants. I felt a twitch in my cock from his touch. "Uh, whoa," I said, pushing against his chest with my hand, trying to get him to back off a bit. There was definitely muscle in that chest, too. I felt my cock stir further. And he did. Back off, I mean. He stepped back, and I saw his hands clench into fists a few times, making his forearms bunch. "You said I could suck you!" he practically whined. I couldn't help but grin at that. "Yeah, but slow down a bit man. I also said something else, too. Remember?" "Ohh yeah," he said, grinning back at me. And with that, he didn't even waste a moment. He pulled back the sleeve on his right arm and flexed his bicep, triumphantly raising it in the air for me to see. And holy fuck was it beautiful up close. That tennis ball bicep bulged up into hardness, and I felt my mouth drop open. "Holy shit," I said aloud, not entirely meaning to. "Yeah," he simply said, still with a grin. My cock was swelling within my shorts as I gazed upon his newly built muscle. "How about this?" he asked and flexed his other arm, now in a double bicep pose. He didn't pull the sleeve back on this one but his bicep bulged up into the sleeve, almost completely filling the empty space. "H-how?" I stuttered, feeling my cock throbbing into full hardness. "How what?" he asked, cocking his head, lowering his biceps a bit, but still keeping them half-flexed in the air. "How did you gain this much so quickly?" "Oh!" he responded, lowering his arms completely to his sides. The sleeve on the right arm didn't quite lower all the way and his arm remained mostly exposed, and it bulged nicely at his side. "I, uh, started working out right away after I showed you that first weigh-in. I did everything I could to gain muscle. I eat, like, eight-thousand calories a day, most of it protein foods." I stood there, mouth agape, as he told me how it happened. "I really want to suck your cock. Like, really want to suck it. If building my body is what it takes, then I'll do it." "Looks like you already did it," I muttered. He grinned. "Nah, I'm just getting started. Remember? Fifty pounds was the goal." I felt myself panting. He'd gone from an annoying twiggy pest to this sexy gym-rat who was only going to get hotter if he kept going the way he's been going. And hearing him say what he'd just said was... well, sexy as fuck. "But, uh--" I found myself struggling a bit to find words, "--Don't you like being on the, uh, skinny side?" He grinned. "I did. I definitely did. I never wanted to do this. I'm a twink! But, now--" he paused, and raised his arm and flexed that impressive bicep, "--I'm growing. And it feels amazing. I felt my cock throb. Hard. Usually I have control over my cock, but it throbbed super hard and sent shivers throughout my body. I'd always had little half-baked fantasies about things like this, where I would have a dude workout and get big for me and I'd get to reap the benefits. I just never thought it would become reality. And certainly not this guy. "Looks like I've awakened the beast," he said, smirking that new confident smirk, eyeing my now completely hard dick's bulge protruding from the front of my pants. "Fuck," I said, not really meaning to. It was my generic response to a situation that got my dick super hard. He closed what gap there was between us and stood almost nose to nose with me. He almost looked hesitant, but I suspected he was waiting to see if I pushed him away again. I didn't. His hand reached for my crotch and palmed the hard appendage that was writhing within my pants. His fingers ran themselves over me, caressing the bulge. It sent shivers up my spine. He lifted his other arm and flexed his bicep again, that hot tennis ball bulging up against his sleeve. The sight made me shudder. And my cock throbbed again. And suddenly he dropped to his knees. His eyes looked up into mine, and his fingers began undoing my pants. He almost had a submissive expression on his face, and maybe it was entirely submissive. As a skinny twink he was probably used to being in a submissive role. I wasn't interested in domination in any way. And with his burgeoning physique he'd probably find himself in far less situations where he would be playing a submissive role. My cock was leaking pre into my pants in anticipation. I felt the wetness. I was quite the leaker. I could literally feel when my cock would spurt pre, and it was happening a lot. And suddenly I felt my pants dropped, and my cock bounced out, springing up and flinging some pre across his face. It landed on his nose, lips, and across his cheek. He didn't recoil, though. He had a hungry expression on his face and used his tongue to lick up what it could reach. "Fuck, you taste good," he muttered. "Mmm" I grunted, completely unable to think of any words to say. My body was almost in a catatonic state. I felt my breathing becoming heavy. I was so aroused. "Here we go," he said, and his eyes hungrily averted their gaze onto my throbbing member. And he suddenly went into attack mode. He started licking my cock, I guess as a sort of appetizer. I was already shocked at how good it felt. He was running his tongue all over, and my favorite moments were when his tongue would run over the underside of my dick. "Mmmm" he would moan a little from time to time, enjoying himself. And then without warning he popped the head of my cock into his mouth and sucked. "Oh god," I breathed. "Mmm" he grunted, and I could tell he was smiling. And then he did what I should have been waiting for. I mean, I guess I definitely was waiting for it, but I'd been so enthralled by his licking to this point I let it slip my mind. He flexed. He was kneeling before me, my cock at least partially in his mouth, and he flexed both his arms into a double-biceps. "Ohhh god," I moaned, barely able to contain myself as I watched his tennis ball biceps mound up. I felt my cock throb and pulse as he sucked on just the head. I really hope he didn't doubt me when I said muscles turned me on, but if there ever was any doubt, I'm sure it's gone, now. He was able to hold his flex, his biceps hard balls of muscle, while simultaneously sucking on the head of my dick. "Mmm" he grunted and moaned again. But then he let my entire cock slip into his mouth. He swiftly let it slide all the way, and I felt his throat open as the head entered his actual throat, the size too big for just his mouth. And he kept his arms flexed. Here this dude was, flexing his arms and deepthroating my cock. I'd have been lying if I said I wasn't impressed, but I wasn't able to focus on his skills. All I could see were two sexy fucking biceps as my cock was experiencing pleasures I never knew possible. He was bobbing his head know, throat-fucking my big dick. I felt myself bucking my hips in time with his head-bobbing. I could feel a climax coming, sooner than I'd have thought. "Mmmf" he moaned again, and I was almost certain he knew I would climax soon. And, he didn't slow down. In fact, he took his hands and pulled the sleeves back on both arms and flexed again, his biceps on complete display. His delts were now in sight, too, which had also clearly grown. I definitely had to give this dude an 'A' for effort. He tailored this blowjob for me. And the sight of his exposed bulging muscles sent me over the edge. I felt the explosion welling up. And explode, I did. I bucked my hips wildly, the sensation of cum releasing from my balls into my shaft so intense I almost felt my legs give out. But he could somehow sense this. His arms dropped and he reached both hands to the backs of my legs and squeezed. He was holding me steady as his mouth continued to suck, waiting for the deluge of cum. And I felt it happen. The first explosion. It must've hit his throat hard, because he immediately gagged. And he'd been able to keep from gagging to this point. But he didn't let up or release a single centimeter of my dick. He sucked down every drop. And the next shot came and shot into his throat, as he eagerly swallowed that one as well. "MmMmmmM" he moaned, swallowing every drop of cum I shot. Not a single drop escaped his mouth. I must have shot a good 5 or 6 times, each one as voluminous as the last. I felt myself breathing heavily but shallow, almost like I couldn't catch my breath. Like I'd run a marathon or something, and yet I didn't move from this spot. My orgasm was still subsiding, even though I was no longer shooting. He continued suckling at my cock, coaxing what few drops out that were left. I wanted to collapse onto my sofa, but his hands were lingering on the backs of my legs, squeezing them. When I felt my cock finally beginning to soften, I said "Dude that was probably the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced." I felt his mouth give one last good suck, before he finally let my dick pop out of his mouth. My dick bounced a little as it continued to deflate. He smirked that confident smirk. "Told you you didn't know what this mouth could do." I almost got frustrated with him as he once again seemed to miss what it was my cock responded to. Yeah, he had a skilled mouth, for sure, but it was his muscles that did the job. "Dude," I said, still somewhat breathlessly, "You got a skilled mouth, yeah, but I'm tellin' ya, it was those hot biceps that did the job." "Oh you mean these?" he asked and flexed his arms again, still in that kneeling position in front of me. His sleeves were still pulled all the way back and now with a more clear mind I was seeing them in a somewhat different light. More clearly. They were sexy fucking arms. Like, really sexy. He had beautifully sculpted arms with veins in all the right places. "Y-yeah," I felt and heard myself stutter. He stood up, but didn't stand back or anything. "Whoa," he said, and it looked like he was about to lose his balance. I reflexively reached out and my arms wrapped around his back, holding him in place so he didn't fall. My arms made contact with a hard, tight body, and he allowed himself to be pulled into me. His torso pressed against me, and I could feel his pecs pressing into my body. It felt amazing. I looked into his face and he had this grin. And suddenly his arms went around my body and he kissed me. I was shocked and my first instinct was to push him away, but I suppressed it, suddenly wanting his lips on mine. We kissed for a few seconds, my hands roaming the expanse of his back through his shirt, and I could feel individual muscles. But then he suddenly pulled his face away, still grinning. "I can feel it," he said. "Huh?" I grunted, not even sure if I heard him right. "Feel what?" I asked, but suddenly realized he may have meant my cock which was hardening again, pressed against his body. "Oh yeah, I guess feeling your muscles against me is making me hard again," I chuckled. "No, man." He pushed me away, this time. Not hard or anything; just enough to get about a foot of space between us. But then he looked down at my rising cock and chuckled. "Well, yeah, that, but not that." I cocked my head, furrowing my brow at him. I was entirely confused at this point. "God your cock is hot," he said, eyeing my cock again. But he shook his head as though he was trying to break out of some sort of reverie. "But no, what I feel is your cum." "Oh really?" I chuckled a little. "Was it a lot?" "Fuck yeah it was a lot, but it's not what I mean." His breathing was getting shallow. "Oooof, yeah, I can definitely feel it." "Okay dude, you're starting to get weird on me." "Am I?" he asked, and once again flexed his arms. One of his sleeves fell down but the other was pulled back still. His biceps exploded into size and were once again making my cock throb. One was exposed to the air and I could see a prominent vein running across the peak. The other was wrapped in the sleeve and pressing against the cloth like a second skin. "Fuck your arms are hot," I breathed, yet again taken aback by how sexy his muscles were. He dropped his arms. "You still haven't noticed yet?" "Noticed what?" I asked, my mind clouded a bit by my once again completely hard cock. But then I did notice it. His chest. It was pushing out of that shirt way more than it was when he arrived. And I knew it wasn't just my imagination because I remember specifically how it looked based on the logo on the shirt. His chest had grown. In the span of less than an hour. "Oh fuck," I said, and then "How are-- How is--- What's happ--" "I'm growing, dude." My dick was still exposed to the air, my pants around my ankles. And it was harder than ever, throbbing wildly as I stood there looking at this former twink. He was still twink-ish when he arrived, but that was becoming a thing of the past. Right in front of me. "H-How?" "All I needed was your cum. Now--ungn--it's time for me to--oh god--get huge." And in that instant, he suddenly grew about an inch in height. He was only about a foot away from me, and I was looking down at him a little, but my eyes were suddenly looking more directly forward. "Fuck yes," he breathed, and then "Ohhh god" and he shot up another inch. His shirt tightened around his chest even further. "Fuck!" I said, not even meaning to. My cock was pulsing and throbbing at this sight before me. "Yeah, watch me grow," he said, and flexed his arms. They both exploded into baseballs, the sleeve tightening to painted-on status on the one arm the sleeve was still covering. The other arm was too big now for the sleeve to even naturally fall on its own. "Grrr" he literally growled as he held his flexed arms, visibly shaking as he was clearly flexing as hard as he could. And I saw his face light up as his arms simultaneously pulsed bigger as we both watched them. "Holy fuck," I whispered. "Yeah, you ready?" he asked. "Ready for wha--" I got out before he swiftly extended both arms and then flexed them again. This time they once again grew bigger, and the sleeve covering his one arm busted open in a loud POP as the threads all snapped. "FUCK yeah!" he shouted, continuing to flex and unflex his biceps. And then he lowered his arms and rolled his shoulders back a bit so his chest was more prominently visible, and what a chest it had become. His cliché Call of Duty logo was stretched across bigger pecs, much bigger than when he walked in. He looked down at his own chest and I watched as he bounced each side individually, seemingly to a tune only he could hear. And then he bounced them both at the same time, really making the front of the shirt jump, with one sleeve bunched up still between his biceps and delt, and the other sleeve hanging like a rag from his other arm. "Oooo yeahhh UNNGH," he practically moaned, and I watched his chest bulge outward in one short burst, like it was waiting for the perfect moment to grow bigger. RRRRRIP his shirt tore down the center as he flexed his newly grown pecs, and a beautiful cleft was visible now. "OH! OHH!" he gasped, and he shot up another several inches in height. I was looking up at him now, my head forced to tilt backwards. And suddenly I was overly aware my cock was standing straight up and out, throbbing intensely with greater vascularity than I've ever seen in my entire life, oozing pre onto my carpet. And there have been plenty of moments in my past when I thought I was turned on and harder than ever before. This, by far, topped any previous moment. I was... afraid? I guess? To even move. Like, if I moved, this entire fantasy playing out in front of me would dissipate and I'd wake up in my bed. His shirt was laughable, at this point, as it was basically a big rag hanging off of him. He rolled his shoulders again, and more rips could be heard as he deliberately pulled it as tight as he could across his back. His lats were wider. "I guess I don't need this anymore," he said, smirking, and took one hand and pulled his shirt off his body in one fluid motion, tearing it apart in the process. He tossed the now useless rag it had become across the room, his biceps bulging impressively as he did so. "Fuck--unnngg--look at me! I love this!" he shouted, flexing his arms triumphantly high in the air. His joggers had ridden up his legs thanks to his increased height. They were only covering down to just below his knees, and the elastic cuffs were stretched really tight around his now-bulging calves. I never got a real look at his legs before now, but I imagine they were skinny stick legs like many twinks have. The kind that had zero muscle tone and you'd wonder how the dude even walked on his own without help. But his calves now were clearly muscular. You know how you can see the calf muscle on an athlete's leg even from the front? That's what his looked like now. And they were twitching and swelling bigger as he stood in front of me. But that certainly wasn't all I could see. Because as I allowed my eyes to finally drift away from his calves, I could finally take a moment to realize his joggers were now wrapped tight around his upper legs, as well. His quads were getting bigger and bigger, clearly, as the cloth was unable to hide any longer the fact there was muscle beneath it. The individual heads of his quads were even visible through the cloth. "I see--nng--you've noticed my--uungh--legs," he said, grunting as he continued to swell before me. "I really liked these--ughh--joggers," he said, and I had the privilege of seeing him flex his legs and hearing RRIIPPP as his joggers tore up the sides, his muscular flesh swiftly becoming exposed to the air. "OH, OH FUCK," I gasped, as my cock exploded cum in a torrent, ropes of my juice shooting out across from me. My body shuddered as I shot blast after blast, before finally subsiding after, I think, 5 shots. "Holy shit," I rasped, breathless. I just came without even touching myself. I opened my eyes, not even realizing I'd closed them, to notice some of my cum landed on his abs. "Shit dude, did you just blow a load without even touching your cock?" he asked, looking down at his own abs and the globs of cum that had landed on him. "Man you really are a muscle fag." "Uhh, I... I think so..." I barely got out. And then "Wait, w-what?" "Well I guess I--oh god--shouldn't let any of it go to waste," he grunted, ignoring my "what," his abs clenching and defining themselves as he spoke. I gasped as I watched him take his fingers, his vascular forearms twitching has he brought his hand down to his abs and scooping up as much as he could and bringing it back to his face, sliding his tongue across his hand, eagerly swallowing up as much as he could. "Mmmm" he moaned, "You really do taste fucking good." I could only just stand there, as realization set in that he just ingested more of what made him start growing into this... beast before me. "A-are you g-gonna... get even b-bigger from that?" He grinned. "I'm not even done growing from the first load." He flexed his arms again to accentuate his point. His arms pulsed and grew even bigger as he did. "AHH" he gasped, as once again his height shot up another couple of inches, his joggers ripping even further. "Oof," he grunted, "There it is. I can--unghh--feel it charging me up again." "Every second--uff--that goes by I think to myself 'that's gotta be it, there can't be more,' and then--unggh--I get even bigger!" "Oh fuck," I whispered, feeling helpless as this former twink continued his transformation into a... well, a god. Looking at his biceps now, my body shivered. They had grown huge. They were bigger than softballs now, and still growing. His height continued to increase to accommodate more muscle on his frame. "Mmmffuck yeah," he muttered, in awe of his own flexed biceps as he looked, almost lovingly, from one to the other. "This power..." he muttered, and trailed off. He lowered his arms and then arched them out at his sides, like he was about to flex into a most-muscular pose, but stopped short. "Ohhh this power welling--ughh--up inside of me!" and I watched in absolute awe as he suddenly surged bigger. His whole body exploded with size in an instant, and what remained of his joggers exploded off his legs and the soft cloth fluttered to the floor. "Ohmigod" I heard myself say. As the rags that were once his joggers fell to the floor, the former twink was now completely nude, and I watched as a gigantic semi-hard cock flopped out from its confines. I don't know how I hadn't noticed it until now; maybe it was the fact he was transforming into a muscle god before my eyes, but his cock was now bigger soft (or at least semi-soft) than mine is fully hard. And I noticed I was once again completely full throbbing hard. He now towered over me. He was easily at least 6'7", maybe taller. He held his arms arched at his sides, and he almost... glowered at me, but his mouth was upturned enough it was still a smirk. "Still... grrrrr" he growled, and suddenly he flexed into an actual most-muscular, his muscles exploding into stark relief, veins snaking all over his body. His cock was swelling bigger, pulsing, hardening, and standing out and rising. "RRRR Still... Grrrowwwwwiiiinggg" he moaned, and continued to swell in front of me. His biceps and pecs were literally throbbing, increasing in size with each throb as his heart pumped blood through his engorged veins. His head was rising up as he grew taller, and his shoulders were spreading even farther apart as hard, striated muscle wove into tight boulders on each side of his head, attached to rising traps that surrounded a strong, thick bull neck. I felt my cock throbbing hard and I could actually feel yet another ejaculation brewing at the base of my crotch. The feeling was intensifying as my wildest fantasy was coming true before my eyes. But I somehow felt a pressing need to keep myself from blowing yet another load; some sort of sixth sense was telling me I needed to keep him from growing any bigger than he was going to get. "Yesssss..." he breathed, his voicing dropping an octave. "God fucking damn..." I muttered. His growth finally seemed to come to a stop as his head brushed up against the ceiling. I could actually hear it happen when it made contact. And, based on his attitude, I don't think he'd have made any effort not to bust right through the ceiling had he grown any bigger. "Fuck yessss..." he rumbled, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily. He launched into a mind shattering double-biceps, and the Cheshire Cat grin that formed on his face was so menacing I almost wanted to run out my front door. "Is this what you like?" he asked, shifting into an impressive side-chest pose. The fluidity of his pose was confusing to me. It's like he'd been practicing bodybuilding poses. His cock was huge, jutting out from his body like... well, cliché as it sounds, a third fucking leg. But, speaking of legs, his actual legs were tree trunks. Giant, decades old Oak tree trunks. I nodded. I couldn't find words. "I think I met my goal of 50 pounds, huh?" he rumbled. I nodded again. "Can I suck you off again?" he asked, finally relaxing his huge muscles and standing relaxed in front of me. He reminded me of The Hulk, just not green. And still with the face of a twink. I didn't know how to respond to his question. Was he actually asking? I wasn't sure I wanted him any bigger. Not in my home, anyway. But, before I could even think of a response, he said "Wait. What am I doing?" and he dramatically raised his hand to his forehead and slapped it with the palm of his hand. "I don't need your permission any longer. I can literally take it by force. Think you could stop me?" he asked, and flexed his impressive mountain of a vascular bicep right in my face. "Uhh..." I made a sound. I had no response. I felt like I didn't want to poke the bear and I couldn't tell if he was being funny. And that was somehow scarier than actually knowing he wasn't joking. "Am I still a twig? Huh? Was I so unworthy of your time when I was just a twig?" he growled. Suddenly his bigger hands were grasping my upper arms. I yelped as I realized he wasn't joking around. And suddenly my feet were dangling in the air as he held me up with no effort, my pants left in a puddle on the floor, my hard cock still leaking pre as it stuck right out from my body, still steel hard. "I'll suck you off when I'm ready, bro. But I wanna test this new dynamic out." Surprisingly, he let me down gently. "Wh-wh-wha--" I stuttered. "Shut the fuck up." Suddenly there was immense weight on my shoulders as I felt him pressing down on them with the palms of his hands. He let one hand off me and wrapped his fingers around his newly giant member. "You'd better get used to sucking dick. I know it ain't your thing, but, I don't care. Open wide." He was so tall now, I didn't even need to get on my knees.
  11. tester26

    m/m Sean & Tanner

    Another HSMuscleboy inspired story featuring Sean on summer vacation Tanner and Sean were in Tanner’s backyard during a long summer day, working out on his well-worn home weight bench. Tanner stood 5’ 9” and weighed about 175 pounds. He had wide shoulders, an impressively muscled back, broad sculpted pecs that were clearly defined, and a rock-hard set of abs. As impressive as he was, nothing could hold a candle to his workout buddy Sean. Sean towered over Tanner at 6’6” and over 300 pounds of solid muscle; his chest was close to 60 inches, with biceps at least 26 inches, plate-like pecs and flaring lats that tapered down to a 30 inch waist with eight clearly separated ab muscles that maintained their definition even when relaxed. Each of his muscles bulged under his glowing golden skin, glistening with his sweat, and containing not an ounce of fat. Tanner couldn’t believe how much bigger Sean had gotten in the year since the two last seen each other. They had met at the beach last summer, when Tanner had stumbled upon one of Sean’s legendary orgies that left a trail of overfucked, unconscious admirers. Unlike most of Sean’s partners that day (or any day for that matter), Tanner had somehow managed to fit all of Sean’s 20-inch monster cock in him, and after surviving 3 rounds of power fucking on the beach, the two muscle studs found their way to Tanner’s house, where they spent the night and the following day lifting and fucking. The two studs were finishing their workout, their bulging muscles shining with sweat. In Tanner’s backyard, the two worked out completely nude, having learned that they get so turned on watching each other workout, they spent most of it with raging hard-ons. Today was no exception. Tanner sat up from the bench press and began rubbing his throbbing, dripping, and fully erect foot long cock. “You make me fuckin’ hard just looking at you,” he said. “You like what you see?” Sean said, a smirk crossing his face as he put down the 150lb dumbells he was curling. The compliment make him hard as well, his massive 20-plus inches throbbed out in front of him, as thick as a normal man’s forearm, crisscrossed with pulsing veins, topped by a reddish head as big as a fist, spurting pre-cum like most guys cum. Sean flexed his abs and pecs as he ran his hand over his sweaty muscles. His muscles looked like corded steel as they flexed and relaxed at his command under his paper-thin skin. He started moving his hips up and down as he stroked his big cock. His flexing muscles looked absolutely beautiful as he moved his body. He flexed his massive right bicep for Tanner. "Check these guns, man!" said Sean. As he was flexing his arms, Sean started to lovingly lick his huge biceps. The saliva, combined with his sweat created an incredible sheen over his arms. Next he slowly opened his clenched fists and extended his fingers over the pointed peaks of his biceps. Thick slab-pecs, rolling with muscle control, then flexed hard into gigantic, striated mounds. His pecs defied gravity as they billowed out insanely over his abs and created a huge overhang. His nipples were half-dollar sized and actually were pointing towards the floor because his chest was so huge and thick. Deep cut abs. A naked show of eye-boggling male bodybuilder muscle and cock size. Sean rubbed his hands over his muscles, teasing Tanner, flexing his monster cock, bouncing a few times and finally springing back to straight out, pointing its dripping head right at Tanner. “Look at all this fucking muscle, man. Fucking beautiful, man. Go on, feel it. Oh, fuck man, I feel so goddamn hot. Go on, man. Feel this muscle.” He rubbed his huge thick pecs. Sean massaged his cock by gently flexing his pecs, making his cock leak more precum. “Come on. Oh, fuck, it feels so fucking hot man. Come on.” Tanner stood up and walked over to Sean, his cock dripping pre-cum onto the ground. He rubbed Sean’s hard bicep, veins covering the surface in a thick, corded display. Tanner ran his huge cock across Sean’s arm, tracing the veins with his dripping and sputtering tip. He tweaked the hard nipples that caused Sean to moan as Tanner moved closer to him and began to smell his manly scent and muscular sent coming off his body. Tanner licked his neck as explored his entire muscular body. Sean turned his head, and their lips brushed each other. The two muscle studs kissed for several minutes, their pecs swelling as their nips dueled with each other. Their cocks waved in their own dance, often clashing, often sliding up and down each other. Their abs joined in the dance as each stud in turn bent his knees to slide up against his partner. Their lips never parted but their hands were everywhere, molding, caressing, squeezing. When they hugged, their enormous biceps fought to drag the other guy even closer. Passion grew hotter and hotter and the rhythm of the dance became frenzied as their dicks, already dripping copious cups of pre-cum all over the place, threatened to erupt. As they kissed hard and passionately, grabbing each other’s asses, stroking each other’s broad, tapering backs, floating, lost in time, Sean pulled back and slid his enormous cock between Tanner’s legs —it stuck out a ways past his ass—and pressed the two of them back together. Their tongues attacked each other’s mouths with an aggressive force as they explored each other’s muscular bodies. Sean grabbed Tanner’s hard dick and started stroking it expertly while fucking his legs, rocking his hips gently in and out so that his heavy, massive cock, slid in and out of the tight, hot space between Tanner’s legs. Tanner flexed his thighs, squeezing Sean’s cock as he thrust his own between Sean’s hands. Tanner felt as though Sean’s cock was pushing upward so hard that he might be lifted off the ground. They were immersed in the moment; their pulses pounding, Sean’s monster cock fucked Tanner’s legs faster and faster, his hands on Tanner’s cock jerked up down and around; and Sean’s over muscled frame engulfed Tanner’s perfectly carved body, their mouths locked together, Tanner’s hands stroking his whole body, until suddenly everything went white, and Tanner cried out as he exploded, cum gushing straight up, splashing on their faces and necks. Sean’s beast swelled and flexed in response, and Sean roared as a jet of white blasted out of his cock, hitting the fence 10 feet away. They held on to each other tightly as they rode our their orgasms before they collapsed against each other, panting hard yet still cumming. They slid apart as they caught their breath, Sean’s still hard rod slapping his pecs with a dull thud as it slid out from between Tanner’s legs. “Fuck, Sean, you look so fucking hot. Those muscles are bigger than human, dude.” Tanner reached out to feel the massive slabs of cum-covered, heavy, hard, overhanging beef that hung on Sean's chest, the huge shaft of Sean's cock stood between them, the flared head as big as Tanner's fist, hovering right between their faces. Sean grinned as he felt waves of erotic pleasure sweep through his body at Tanner's touch on his pecs, grinned at expression of desire on Tanner's face, grinned at the sensation of such intense sensitivity that his huge muscles had developed along with their immense size, as sensitive and erotic as his cock had ever been, and he grinned at the ecstatic feeling of masculine power when his eyes met Tanner's. "Fuck, Sean, how big is this fucking thing now? Jeez..." Sean’s grinning ear to ear. "I measured yesterday -- I’m now twenty two point five inches long." "Twenty two? Fuck me..." Tanner stared wide-eyed at Sean, astonished. "Yep, that's the plan!" Sean laughed, gripping his cock and rubbing it along the side of Tanner’s head. "Scared?" Tanner looked at him and nodded mutely. It had been a few months since he last saw Sean, and the last time he ‘only’ had 20 inches. “Awww dude, don't worry. It'll be just like last time, remember? It’ll hurt at first, but then it's 'the most amazing thing ever', you 'can never get enough of this monster cock' “Mmmph!” Tanner pushed up against Sean and kissed him passionately, he was so turned on. "God, dude, you've gotten so much bigger... I can't believe it," his voice is a sultry murmur. The two made their way inside to Tanner’s bedroom. Sean pushed Tanner onto the bed, their cocks throbbing with lust. Sean rubbed his tip up and down Tanner's mouth, teasing him as he stretched his jaw open and licked at it. The slit was so large, his tongue actually reached inside the tip. Tanner went to town slurping on Sean’s massive cock head, making sure to stick his tongue deep down the meaty piss hole to suck out every drop of sticky precum. Eventually Tanner changed tactics, gripping it below the head with both hands to pull as he tried to take the head into his mouth. He gagged a bit, but continued sucking and moving his hand rapidly over his dripping shaft. Eventually he stopped, looked up at Sean and pouted. “Dude, it's too big. I can't even get your head in!" Sean laughed and rubbed his tip across the lower lip being presented. Precum oozed continuously from him now, pooling in Tanner's mouth. "You want me to help?" Tanner wrapped his lips as best he could around Sean's cock, nodding. "Okay!" Unceremoniously, he gripped Tanner's head with both hands. Then he simply pulled, stretching Tanner's mouth around his enormous cock. In just a moment, Tanner's lips were wrapped over the rim of the glans, bulging out his cheeks. Tanner gagged as Sean's head pushed against his throat. Tears fell from his eyes and traced through the precum covering his face. Sean pulled him further forward, the top of his throat starting to distend before he stopped. The angle didn’t allow him to pull Tanner over any more of his veiny monster. Sean flexed his cock and leaned back slightly, lifting Tanner's entire body off the bed. Sean smiled, lowering Tanner to kneel on the bed again before gripping him by the shoulders and starting to work him back and forth. Just an inch at a time, a little of his immense manhood revealed with each motion, but gradually longer strokes. Before long he was sliding Tanner over half his cock at a time, thrusting his own hips back and forth a little to assist the motion. Each outstroke forced a gush of precum out from Tanner’s lips, slopping out onto the bed or running down his chin. Sean’s ballsack was already completely soaked. He started drawing his huge cock out of Tanner’s throat. He got 5 inches out, then slammed home, causing another loud gag. Then, again. And again. Soon enough, Sean was fucking Tanner’s throat, his balls slapping loudly against his partner’s face. All Tanner could do was watch as those balls retracted and then slapped him over and over again, the long inches of that shaft moving away and then back, away and back, and let out an occasional "glurk!" or "gluh" as the thick meat pounded his throat. Tanner could feel every ridge and every vein as it moved up his poor bruised and battered throat. Sean stepped backwards, pulling Tanner with him as his balls fell off the bed. Almost all of his length was being pulled out each time now, fluids splattering into the rapidly growing puddle beneath them. Finally, he pulled Tanner all the way to his root and moaned deeply, holding him there as his balls pulsed. Tanner was almost entirely off the bed now, carried by the nearly two foot weapon impaling him. The feeling of being solely supported by Sean’s cock was too much for Tanner, who’s throbbing cock had not stopped spraying precum as Sean forced more of his monster inside him. Tanner erupted, blasting his load all over Sean’s legs and onto the wall behind him. After half an hour of relentless pounding, punctuated by Sean occasionally pulling out almost all the way and slamming back all the way, Tanner could feel Sean tense up. He started fucking Tanner’s mouth even faster now, and even more precum was leaking out of the teen’s huge cock, finally, he slammed home, hard, and then again, and again. Jets of cum started firing out of the thick head of Sean’s cock, and to steady himself, Sean grabbed onto Tanner’s head and held tight, leaning over him. The contractions of Sean's cock lifted Tanner each time, his body bounced up and down as Sean unloaded. Head back and eyes closed, Sean was breathing heavily while his hands reached down to grope Tanner’s muscles. There was a growing bulge in Tanner's belly, at the end of the distention already running down his torso. He was literally swelling with Sean's cum. Sean looked back down at him, admiring Tanner’s chiseled backside, before gripping his shoulders and starting to slide him off his monstrous schlong. Sean drew himself almost all the way out, leaving Tanner kneeling up with his mouth stretched around the immense glans. Each contraction of Sean's cock pulled the stud up by his head, knees lifting off the ground each time as Sean kept cumming. Finally, Sean pulled himself all the way out, releasing a flood of thick white cum as Tanner collapsed to the floor. His monster cock contracted again, shooting a tremendous rope of cum clean over Tanner and the bed to splash against the wall. Sean grabbed his cock with both hands, aiming down to ejaculate on Tanner. Tanner lifted his head up with open mouth to receive the stud’s seed. Sean's next bolt of cum was even bigger and more forceful, perfectly aimed at Tanner's open mouth. Tanner immediately gagged, mouth filled, slumping back to a seated pose as Sean's cum splashed over his face. Tanner's face was rendered almost indistinct under its deep coating of cum. Sean aimed lower, another immense ejaculation dousing Tanner's shoulders and ripped chest in seed. While he sat on the floor, receiving this unbelievable bounty, one of Tanner's hands slipped down to play with his cock. The very moment he touched his cock, he moaned and convulsed, so pent-up with arousal that a slight touch was enough to push him into orgasm. Sean moaned, continuing to pump out more and more jizz onto Tanner as he lay twitching on the floor. After another couple minutes, a thick puddle of cum spread around Tanner, and Sean stepped forward, gripping Tanner under his shoulders to hoist him up. Sean lifted Tanner until his massive cockhead was between his pecs at his eye level, stroking up and down for a moment. Although his orgasm had passed, cum was continuously leaking from his manhood, a thick stream flowing down Tanner's body and his own shaft. They wrapped their arms around each other, kissing, trying to eat each other’s faces. Tanner rubbed Sean’s ass and back, his hand moving to his pulsing traps, feeling the bumps of hard, powerful muscle. Where Tanner was lying on the floor, there was an outline of his body where was utterly doused in semen. Sean casually tossed Tanner back onto the bed. Tanner landed on his back amidst puddles of cum, Sean clambering up onto the bed and straddling his hips. With his knees either side of Tanner's hips and both hands on his elephantine cock, the head of it reached over Tanner's face, cum spilling down on to his. Tanner grinned, scooting back slightly so the ceaseless flow is splashing into his mouth. he kept eagerly swallowing more, his thirst for Sean's cum seemingly endless despite already being bloated from the volume that was pumped directly down his throat. Sean flexed his cock once, spraying up the wall, before kneeling down. His balls lay across Tanner’s groin, blocking Sean's cock from being lowered further. Tanner laughed at the sight, reaching up with both hands to toy with the head. He took hold of it, fingers gripping the rim of Sean's rock-hard glans and wrapping around with his hands, toying at the slit with both thumbs as cum spilled out over his arms. At the same time, Sean adjusted Tanner's legs, pulling them to the sides, knees bent, to make room for him to drag his gigantic balls down onto the bed. Satisfied with his alignment, Sean shuffled back, pulling away from Tanner's longing hands and back, back, back until that oversized cock is hovering just above Tanner’s asshole. Tanner had a pillow under his head, staring wide-eyed at the stud. Sean's feet were hanging off the end of the bed, he had to move so far back to align his cock with Tanner. Holding himself with both hands, Sean pressed against Tanner's hole, teasing up and down for a moment before flexing his cock again. A jet of semen shot out, splashing over and into his ass. He did it again, then again, Tanner moaned at the feeling of the immense glans pressing against his hole. Sean suddenly pushed his hips forwards, sliding his cock over Tanner's big dick, grinding his manhood against Tanner as he pushed on and on, hips pressed up against Tanner and the tip of his cock just in front of Tanner's nose. Sean grinned down at the teen, rubbing back and forth slightly. "You know, bro, you're right. This thing is way too big." he walked his knees back down, slowly dragging his massive meat until the head was back at Tanner's hole, one of his hands resting on the end. "Are you ready?" Tanner panted with lust. "Yes, please." "Are you sure? This is a big thing to try and take-" "Fuck, Sean, stop teasing me and fuck me alread-yyy!" Tanner cut him off with a scream as Sean pushed the tip of his cock inside. Tanner arched his back and clenched the soaking bedcovers in his hands. Sean leaned his hips forward, slowly thrusting deeper. Just the head of his cock is inside, Sean paused for a minute, rocking back and forth slightly, just watching his partner. With a predatory smirk, he began to thrust. Slowly at first, he steadily started to make ground in Tanner’s vice-like ass. Centimeters of progress turned into half inches, and the bulge in Tanner’s stomach moved higher and higher. Hands hooked under knees, trying to stretch his legs out as far as he could, Tanner peered down and watched with morbid interest as the bulge slowly moved up his stomach and past his belly button. He screamed once more as he simultaneously had the biggest orgasm of his life. A high pressure stream of cum sprayed from his cock onto Sean’s washboard abs. His eyes rolled back into his head and his whole body shook in pleasure and pain. Sean grunted, feeling those hot ropes splatter against his stomach, trickling down the cut lines of his cobblestone abdominals. Sean started to pick up a rhythm. The rhythmic slapping sounds of their bodies meeting filled the room. Tanner heard his bed creaking as Sean’s relentless pounding made it shake and rock and he heard the thudding of his headboard against the wall. The bed creaked and groaned as Sean pulled out, leaving just his head inside Tanner, then thrust forward with a grunt, shoving in some more inches. Sean received a cry of pleasure (and maybe some pain) in return, making him throb and spurt inside. Precum was oozing out of his hole and sliding down his shaft. "Fuck you're so big..." Tanner groaned, his eyes rolling back. Sean was really fucking him stupid. "Give me more of that cock. Show me how a god fucks!" Tanner gradually calmed down, slowing his panting to a normal level and relaxing his hands. When he eventually opened his eyes and looks down at Sean, Sean thrust forward hard. Sean's cock only slid in another inch or so before the resistance was too great, instead shoving Tanner up the bed until he bumped into the headboard. "Oops," Sean laughed, sliding his hands under Tanner's legs and pulling instead. A tremendous distention extended up Tanner’s body, past his belly button now with half of Sean's gigantic cock still outside. Once Sean had driven half of himself in he flexed again, lifting Tanner bodily from the bed and dropping his back into the puddles of cum with a wet schlopping sound. Sean laughed, bouncing him up and down a couple of times, before rising to an upright kneel and leaning back slightly. his cock throbbing with each pulse of his heartbeat, Tanner wobbled and slipped slowly further onto Sean's vast manhood. Sean gripped Tanner's waist, twisting him back and forth as he's worked further and further onto Sean. It reached all the way up into Tanner’s chest, the bulge pushing his abs out. A cracking, splintering sound, like wood giving way under repeated, powerful hammer blows echoed in the room. His entire body convulsed in another orgasm and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. Sean was fucking him stupid, and he still had more cock to find room for. He started speeding up, gradually increasing the pace of this amazing fuck. Tanner’s eyes were at the back of his head, drool leaked from his slack mouth as his body was shoved back and forth. Sean moaned in pleasure, pounding in and out mechanically. By this point, Tanner's shaking didn't stop and neither did his cumming; Sean literally had him in a cycle of never ending orgasms. Tanner’s cock turned deep red as jets of cum blasted endlessly out of him. The bed creaked and rocked, the headboard slamming into the wall as Sean fucked him into the bed harder and harder. More mindless babble flowed from Tanner's lips, mostly variations of "you're killing me" and "I can't stop cumming" - something Sean was used to hearing. Over and over again he pounded, pulling out as far as he could, before slamming back into Tanner's warm depths. "Aww, shit, Sean! Yeah, fuck me, dude! Gimme all you got! Fuck the jizz outa me!" "Shit! Fuck! Aww, shit, fuck, yeah! Gonna cum!" Sean rapidly pounded the teen, balls slapping against Tanner's thighs as his chest bulged out. Tanner whined in pleasure with the first few strokes before falling silent, eyes rolled back in his head as his mouth aimlessly opens and closes. Tanner screamed and moaned as Sean pumped every enormous inch in and out of his abused hole. The entire time his eyes were locked on his bulging midsection; bulging both because of the inhumanly thick pole currently rearranging his insides, and because of the ludicrous amount of seed it had already poured into him. With a splintering crunch, the bed finally collapsed, its frame shattered by Tanner and Sean’s vigorous fucking. The side-rails fell away, and the mattress slammed into the ground. Sean fell forward, his cock still buried inside Tanner’s ass, and ended up slamming into him with all his weight, burying himself deeper in him than either of them would have thought possible. Sean pressed his muscled body over Tanner’s hard torso and blew his load into Tanner, the impact so powerful that Sean had to hold tight to Tanner’s legs. Each flex of his length lifted Tanner's body, splashing his up and down in the pools of cum already covering the bed. After a couple minutes of this Sean slipped out, Tanner's body falling heavily onto the bed as Sean thrust into empty space. A huge flood of cum was released as Sean's cock popped out. From the gaping hole of his ass, thick sperm gushed out of him for more than a minute, and continued to run and drip out in gooey streams after. Sean pressed his still-hard length against Tanner's ass, rubbing back and forth. His monstrous manhood flexed again and a thick stream fired from the tip, passing over Tanner to drench the headboard and pillows. Sean aimed directly at Tanner’s face. The force from his thick ribbon of cum pushed his head back on to the bed, his entire face and neck instantly painted white as his seed splashed off and soaked the bed around him. Sean’s orgasm finally died down. He panted heavily, finally opening his eyes and taking in the room around him. It was predictably, completely white. The bed, ceiling and walls around him were now white, regardless of the color they had been before. A lamp and a bedside table to the right of him were also dripping with gooey semen. A dresser, a mirror, the parts of the floor he could see - they were all drenched. Cum still flowed from his cock as he laid on his back next to Tanner, casually leaning into the thick puddles of his own seed. Tanner sat up, licking cum from his face and wiping his eyes. “You’re incredible,” he groaned. Sean smiled, cock twitching as it leaked cum onto his massive chest. Tanner leaned over, resting his head against Sean’s pecs as he slowly licked the cum directly from his cock. He shifted down, pressing his tongue flat against the head of Sean’s beast before crawling forward. He slowly licked his way down his entire length, down and down and down to where his balls lay on the bed between splayed legs. Cum drooled from Tanner’s ass and dick, mixing with it fresh from the source as it oozed onto Sean’s chest. They remained like this for a while, Tanner slowly cleaning and massaging Sean’s enormous testicles while Sean massaged Tanner’s muscles. Sean rolled Tanner onto all fours. The mattress was definitely ruined. Sean got on his knees and slapped his cock against Tanner's ass, the weight of it causing it to jiggle. He placed the head at the teen’s gaped asshole again, which looks like it could easily take a man's fist, but still appeared inadequately stretched to take the giant wrecker that was moments away from entering him. Tanner looked back over his shoulder, biting his lower lip. He whimpered in preparation of the assault. The white spear was at its 22.5 inch glory. He braced for impact, spreading his knees slightly to give more stability. He shuddered as he felt Sean begin to enter him, the sensation only slightly less painful than the first time. He let out a loud moan as the head fully entered him, his cum filled stomach shaking as the first of what he knew was gonna be innumerable orgasms started to hit. “AAAHHHHHHHHHHH! IT FEELS BIGGER LIKE THIS!” Tanner was having serious trouble handling the doggie style position. The muscle god tightened his grip on the smaller stud’s hips as he prepared to ram his cock home. He thrust his hips and a whole foot of cock sank in, causing Tanner to let out a small scream and spray of cum as his orgasm hit. Sean pulled back out until only his cockhead was in and gave another brutal thrust. Sean pistoned nearly two feet of thick cock in and out of Tanner's spent ass, his fist-sized head bulged out below Tanner’s ribs with each thrust. Every thrust pushed a huge gush of cum back out of Tanner, spurting across both their legs, the bed, floor, and Sean's oversized testicles. Tanner was in total ecstasy with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, prostate completely battered, and belly bulging mildly. His whole body hurt. It hurt so good; he had never dreamed of feeling pleasure like this before in his life. "Like that, ya cockslut? You like this huge cock fucking you like you've never been fucked before?" Sean said, his powerful arms flexing from the effort of using Tanner as a cocksleeve. "Fuck yes! God, you're AMAZING! Don't stop, stud! Fuck me until you're milked dry!" Feeling it was time for a position change, Sean reached over and grabbed Tanner by his arms, which only caused more of his cock to force itself into him. Pulling his arms towards himself until he got a firm grasp on his wrists, he yanked Tanner up suddenly, causing his body to lift off the bed. Head limply lolling to the side, his brain corrupted by the untold pleasures he was feeling. He looked down and gasped. His stomach was tented out obscenely. It looked like Sean’s spear was going to pierce through his skin, it stretched it out so far. His normally ripped abs were pushed out so far he could easily see it from between his pecs. Below the interlocked pair, a pool of their combined sexual excretions was growing larger by the minute. "Holy shit you're so fucking huge!" he screamed, his cock geysering his own loads up into the air. His brain was done at this point and his body was truly molded to Sean’s monstrous rod. Tanner’s whole body shook as he came again, his head going limp and lolling to the side. Sean’s hips were nearly a blur he was fucking Tanner so quickly. Sweat dripped off his face, becoming colored a cloudy white due to the cum that still drenched his figure. He continued to pull his body up and down as he thrusted, only adding to the power of his fucking. The overfucked teen would wake up every minute or so, have another explosive orgasm, and pass back out. Sean fully hilted himself roughly into the battered ass once more. He let out a low growl as he felt his thick cum race up his cock, and into the already filled guts he was planted in. Tanner’s flooded stomach grew at an alarming rate, no cum managing to escape the plug that was Sean’s beastly cock. Tanner could actually feel the cum begin to enter his stomach, then his throat, then his mouth filled and the cum poured from his lips. Tanner moaned and came again, rubbing their combined cum onto his bulging belly. Sean lifted him all the way off, a gigantic geyser of cum in mid-eruption spraying across the ceiling. Sean lost his grip of Tanner’s cum-lubed body, sending him falling forwards onto the bed, face first into his cum-soaked pillow. Sean sat up and aimed back down at Tanner, cum immediately covered his entire body, inch thick layers of cum covering his back. The muscle god aimed back down at Tanner's ass, gaping open with cum flowing freely from it, filling him with another giant spurt of hot seed. Tanner moaned at the sensation and rolled over to watch Sean’s never ending fountain. Sean grinned, hopping onto his knees as he aimed himself higher. His next ejaculation splashed across Tanner's face, filling his mouth in an instant and coating his head. Sean slid forward, laying atop Tanner's body with his monstrous cock sandwiched between them, pressing his meat between their chests as his pyrotechnic orgasm sprayed between their faces. Eventually Sean’s orgasm began to subside, spurts of thick white cum merely hitting the headboard instead of splattering out across its surface. He pushed his cock to the side, shifting the immense head out of the way to kiss Tanner passionately. Their cum plastered pecs and abs pressed against each other, Sean massaged Tanner’s midsection as his cum bulge receded, the weight of Sean’s body helping push his load out of Tanner’s well worn hole. Tanner ran a hand down Sean’s chest, his thumb tracing the bulging, cum-coated muscles. He turned his head to slurp off every last drop of cum from Sean’s softening monster. He took several deep gulps, savoring the salty flavor on his tongue and looked at Sean with a sly grin, he licked his lips. “We should meet up more often,” he said. Sean smiled. “I was thinking the same thing.”
  12. The Benefits of a Personal Trainer Part One Vincent and I OK, before I get started, fair warning: this story has a happy ending. Everybody gets what they want, even though not everybody knew what they wanted or what they needed to become at the beginning. Life, right? This is not that kind of story, but full disclosure: Vincent and I met in a public toilet, or rather, outside one. Both of us had been innocently relieving ourselves at the urinals in the rest room of a downtown mall, and as our eyes wandered, we clocked each other. I reddened at getting caught so easily, but he was waiting when I followed him out a moment later. We went for a drink, and in future always told everybody that it was in the bar that we met. The relationship developed quickly and pretty effortlessly from there. I was smitten with this adorable guy with the slightly diffident manner who had appeared in my life. We clicked. We were the same age (28), same height (5’9), and about the same weight, around 150 pounds. Me? I’ve got kind of regular bro features, short red hair, sparse body hair and a lot of freckles everywhere. Vincent wore his dirty blond curly hair long, with a middle parting, framing an angelic face. There was usually a little blond scruff on his upper lip and chin, but this didn’t make any difference whenever he tried to get into a bar; he was always asked to show ID. He was a dancer (but had been sidelined from performance by a knee injury a few years out of dance school; he was transitioning into teaching and choreography by the time we met) with a dancer’s body, not muscular but well-defined. His high, round hairy butt was my favorite part of him from the moment we met. Vincent moved in with me six months after we met. He didn’t seem to mind very much when, after repeated attempts to fuck him when we starting seeing each other, I gave up. I wasn’t working with much in the dick department to begin with and had never been able to stay hard properly to fuck anybody. And I didn’t really want to anyway. As much as I loved all of Vincent, I couldn’t manage it with him, either. Trouble in paradise? Nope: so little did he seem to care that I figured he must have a low sex drive. And I had never liked the idea of getting fucked, so we quickly put that idea to bed, to our mutual relief. Early on, sex became a small part of our strong and settled relationship. There was a dildo, quite a big one, bought by me, in the bedside table drawer, which got used now and then when Vincent’s ass seemed to need it. I liked watching it disappear into his perfect ass after I had licked it until his hole quivered in anticipation, and he always came extra hard when I fucked him with it. I loved that he did not come across as super gay and I think he felt the same about me. Neither of us felt any pressure to “perform” as gay. If we were sexually repressed, it was clear that we had not got together to unrepress each other. We never talked about other men and our devotion to each other made the idea of sleeping around on each other out of the question. A future of domestic happiness seemed to be ahead of us. I know, right? Textbook boring. All that was going to get shaken up, but it took a while before it did, and came out of the blue when it happened. Rex and I When Rex took me on as a client at the gym where he had a personal training business, he warned me that I would need to make a long term commitment if I wanted to see results. Two years later, his firm guidance and my hard work had certainly paid off. Not like one of those staggering transformations you see documented in those ‘My Three Year Muscle Journey’ YouTube videos, not like I had turned into a completely different person. But I had added about 25 pounds of solid muscle, now tipping the scales at a very well proportioned 175 on my 5’9” frame. I was never going to be a muscle beast, but I liked how I looked now. Vincent sometimes made complimentary comments about how much bigger I was than when we met. I didn’t think a lot about Rex in the early days. He was “just” my PT. From the start, I felt kind of complacent knowing I had made the right choice in taking him on. Or lucky that he had taken me on, whichever it was. We did our sessions twice a week - I could afford his prices on the money from my corporate relations job, and some family money gives me a lot of leeway when it comes to discretionary spending - and with very little conversation or personal interaction. I knew increasingly that I trusted Rex to look after me. He radiated strength and calmness. Assertive, for sure, based on an obvious, totally justified and unshakeable confidence in his own skills and personal presence. He was 34 when I met him, with the sort of looks that turn any head effortlessly. I never asked him, but I would say he must be about 6’2”. His mother’s side is German, his father’s Lebanese. He doesn’t take after his mother looks-wise. To look at him, you would call him Middle Eastern for sure. He wears his jet black hair long and slicked back on top, with a high tight fade to the sides, and always had a few days’ dark stubble growing on his strong jaw. But from the neck down, he was a mystery to me. In all the time we trained together, I never saw him wear anything but a baggy track suit, a ball cap usually jammed low on his head. I knew he had to be very big under all that shapeless fitness gear, but had never seen it. He trained himself at another gym. I respected his physical presence, but it was not as if I lusted after him. This was a good thing, from the point of view of me concentrating during our training sessions. Every now and again, though, if he moved in close to guide my movements or tell me how to do something better, I would get a whiff of his scent, which was gone as soon almost as soon as I was aware of it. It always left me momentarily disorientated. Eventually, we started to chat more during our sessions - when I started to need longer rests between sets as I started to lift heavier - usually work stuff from me, sometimes a remark about life at home with Vincent. One time, a long way into training with him, I finally showed him a photo on my phone of Vincent, taken at an event when he was dancing. His eyebrows raised, for a moment, he grunted and nodded, then we moved on to the next exercise. Rex never gave much away about his own personal life; I got the impression that he tended to pick up girls and keep them for a while but was for periods of time unattached. He was always friendly, but maybe a bit aloof. We had just finished our second weekly session one Thursday when he suggested we go to his office for a chat. I followed him through the main gym office into his private room. “Have a seat”, he offered, waving me towards a chair. “Listen, Jason”, he began, his deep rumbling voice friendly but determined, “I have been thinking that it might be time to wrap up our training sessions. You’ve done a good job” - this was Rex’s all purpose phrase for expressing his approval - “and I’m not sure there is much more I can teach you. I don’t like to hold onto clients once they have got the kind of changes they were after. And you are motivated to train well on your own. So how about it? Shall we call time?” I was taken aback. This came out of nowhere. I had learned over our time working together not to argue with Rex. His suggestions usually came across as orders - well mannered, polite, but final. Fifteen minutes later, having aired every reason I could think of to continue the arrangement, Rex would not budge. We were done. But I think I was more surprised than upset, and when Rex shook my hand and pulled me in for a hug, I felt pretty good. I couldn’t actually get my arms around him to return the embrace. I said, wanting to be friendly, that we should do something socially and not lose touch. Rex seemed to think this over for a moment then said, to my surprise, that that we should do that. “Why don’t you invite me to dinner? I’d like to meet Vincent after hearing about him all this time. I would invite you to my place but I don’t cook.” I spluttered that dinner would be fine. I said I would check with Vincent and get back to him with a date. He said, like it was obvious, that the following Saturday would suit him very well. Rex and Us Vincent didn’t seem very interested when I mentioned that Rex would be coming over for dinner the following Saturday. He just about remembered that Rex had been my gym trainer for almost as long as we had been together. “I hope he doesn’t stay too late”, was all Vincent said. “I’m rehearsing a new piece all day and I’m gonna be tired by the time I get back on Saturday.” “I will cook, babe, no problem”, I offered. And nothing more was said. Come Saturday evening, I had everything ready well ahead of 7 pm when Rex was due to arrive. But no Vincent. He finally came through the door just before 7 pm, complaining that the rehearsal had gone on and on, long past when it was supposed to finish. He hadn’t had any time to shower or change at the dance studio, and was still in his workout gear - track bottoms over tights and a cut off t-shirt. The musk he gave off after a day’s work in the studio hit me as we hugged each other in greeting. “Aww babe, that sucks. Everything’s ready, so all you need to do is just go clean up”, I urged. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and disappeared into our bedroom. I suddenly felt liking following him and bury my face in his ass for a while, but our dinner guest was due any minute. The intercom buzzed at exactly 7 pm. When I opened the door to Rex, I was completely stunned by the sight in front of me. The man at my door could have been related to my trainer Rex from the gym - same height, same hair, same uber handsome face - but there the similarity ended. This was not Rex of the baggy track gear and ball cap. To come to dinner at my place, Rex had chosen a tight, red, fine mesh V neck t-shirt and jeans so tight that they looked like they had been painted on, accentuating every curve of his ass and legs. He wore calf-high snakeskin boots and, around his neck, a chunky gold chain that perched high on his chest mounds. Chest hair was abundant in the plunge of his V neck t-shirt, and short, black hair also covered his forearms. The sleeves were cut high on his shoulders, so tufts of dark curly pit hair from his underarms poked out, too. Rex’s outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination, except for the extent of the package inside the pronounced bulge in his crotch, which drew my attention. “Hey, up here, Jason”, he laughed, catching me lingering over that crotch a moment too long. Fuck, busted already, I thought, as I reddened and muttered a brief, spluttering apology. He waved a hand in friendly dismissal, stepping into the hallway. I pointed him through the door into the living room and as he went in ahead of me, I got a look at the thickness of his massive back and the slabs of triceps muscle to the rear of his huge arms. I had never, in all the time I trained with Rex, imagined he had a body like the one I was now trying and failing to perv over discreetly. So hot, so unobtainably, fantastically hot, I thought. I couldn’t figure out why Rex, who had never given me any reason to believe he was other than 100% straight, would show up at my place dressed to show off his assets in a way that was 100% certain to give any gay man a boner. Like the one I was already struggling to hide as I followed him into the living room. “Jason, have you decided what you are wearing tonight. I thought maybe just a t-shirt and shorts, but - “. Vincent had wandered into the living room, still not showered but stripped down to his dance belt. He stopped talking when he caught sight of Rex, and stood just staring. Rex too a couple of steps towards Vincent and offered him his hand. “Uh, Rex this is my partner Vincent. Babe, this is Rex, who you can see has, uh, arrived.” I laughed weakly. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, Rex, prancing around nearly naked. Running late.” Rex nodded gravely in acknowledgement of the apology, but didn’t reply. He and Vincent stood, still shaking hands. They seemed literally unable to take their eyes off each other. Vincent grinned. Rex smiled and nodded again. “Vince, babe, why don’t you go finish getting ready while I sort out some drinks for us?”, I said, rather loudly, to move things along socially, but really to break the spell between them which was fascinating to watch while making me instantly very nervous. Vincent looked reluctant to leave Rex, but he turned after a moment and disappeared back into the bedroom. Rex watched him go, then turned to me and raised an eyebrow. “Well, now”, he said. “You never said that your partner was so beautiful. Congratulations. I guess I would say you are lucky.” “Umm, it’s sweet of you to say that, Rex. He is something else, isn’t he? Some people think he’s out of my league, but I’m definitely lucky whether he is or he isn’t.” I paused. “I mean, I always assumed … you being straight and all, you wouldn’t want to hear too much about my boyfriend.” Rex shook his head. “Nah. You don’t get it, Jason. I don’t think of myself as straight, or anything else that might slow me down when it comes to getting what I want.” He added, bluntly: “I fuck anything I want.” “Oh, got it. Wow. That’s very … clear.” “And you, Jason, do you get what you want?” “Vincent and I have a really good life together”, I said. “We are monogamous, and in love, and we, umm … we like each other physically.” I hoped that was enough to get us off the subject, but Rex just looked expectantly at me. “How about that drink?”, I said, moving towards the kitchen door. “Whiskey, thanks. No ice.” “We mostly drink wine around here”, I said. “But I know there’s a bottle of really good single malt somewhere that my dad gave me for Christmas a while back. It’s great that it is gonna get opened.” I found the bottle of whiskey at the back of a kitchen cupboard, and had just poured out some into a tumbler when Vincent came into the kitchen, now dressed in a pair of track pants, white Nikes and an old t-shirt advertising his dance school. “Oh my god, Jason, you kept that quiet. You never mentioned that your personal trainer is a super hot muscle tank. I mean, fuck, he is unbelievable. Is he even real? I thought you said he was straight.” I started to explain that what we were seeing was not the look I was used to for Rex, and wondered how I could repeat what Rex had told me about his sexual interests, but I stopped when it hit me that Vincent had not showered and had a hard on. I raised an eyebrow and looked meaningfully at the bulge jutting out of his shorts. He shrugged and grinned. (Vincent? Is that you?, I thought) “Is this for Rex?” He asked quickly, picking up the whiskey. “I’ll take it through to him. White wine for me, please.” He turned in the doorway, a look on his face which I had not seen very often, and not for a long time. Lust. “Jason, baby, this could be fun. Please let’s just go with it.” My hands were shaking as I poured a glass of wine for Vincent, and one for myself. My mind was racing as I realized that something was maybe about to happen that I could not stop and I was not sure how I felt about it. But my own dick was already stirring and with a “Fuck it” whispered through gritted teeth, I went back into the living room. The first thing that hit me when I approached Vincent and Rex was the strong scent of their musks mingled in the air, as if sex had already been going on for a long time in an airless room. Vincent’s slender body was pressed up against Rex’s rock solid muscled body, his hands stroking Rex’s heavy biceps, his face turned up to meet Rex’s. Rex kneaded Vincent’s ass with both his hands. They were kissing deeply. Rex looked sideways at me and raised an eyebrow. I stood, wine glasses in hand, my mouth hanging open. “Jason”, he said. “Have a seat.” Rex and Us I stumbled to an armchair and sat heavily down in it, watching my boy friend make out passionately and shamelessly with this hairy, muscled up sexual magnet who had invited himself into our home. Vincent was now grinding his bulging groin against the inside of Rex’s thigh. A wet spot had started on his shorts. Rex broke off the embrace and stepped back, looking slowly from Vincent to me. “OK, fellas, we are gonna do this, right?” We both nodded in unison, without a moment’s thought or hesitation. “Let’s get you both undressed now.” Vincent looked at me for a second before kicking off his sneakers and stripping out of his top and shorts. His thick, uncut 6” cock stood throbbing and leaking. Rex looked Vincent up and down with obvious approval. Rex looked at me briefly and said, a note of impatience in his voice “Hurry up, Jason.” I stood up, unable to take my eyes off of them while I fumbled with my clothes. Finally naked, my almost 5” dick also leaking freely, I faced them, shaking with nerves and lust. Rex gave me a once over. “Yeah, that’s the body I helped you build, Jason. You did the work, and you paid for it, and you are a tidy unit now. Good job, man.” I sensed there was a bit of condescension in this comment, but stuttered a thank you, anyway. Also, Rex had not actually said anything bad about my dick, which made me relax a bit. “So, fellas”, Rex said, taking a long slug of his whiskey, I don’t want to keep you waiting. You can undress me now.” He sat down on the couch, his legs spread wide, the heels of his boots resting on the floor. Vincent did not hesitate. He went down in his knees and started to struggle with pulling a boot off one of Rex’s feet. I scrambled to do the same, easing the other boot off. Rex lifted his arms high above his head and we pulled the skin-tight muscle t-shirt off. His chest and abs were covered in swirls of short dark hair, thick hard nipples pointing down and out. The musk coming off his pits was intense. He settled back on the couch, clasping his hands behind his head. Vincent crawled up one side, burying his face in one wet, bushy pit and I followed his lead. It was almost unbearably hot, licking and sniffing the deep recess of Rex’s pit. Vincent moaned. After some more of this, Rex said, folding his arms across his chest: “So, take a break guys. Tell me, what do you two like to do with each other?” Vincent caught my eye before licking his lips and swallowing hard. “Mostly we just jerk off together sometimes”, he said, very quietly. “Jason likes to lick my ass. Sometimes he uses a dildo on me.” (Shit, I thought, this is Vincent’s “I cannot tell a lie’ thing.) Rex looked at me. Up shot one eyebrow, questioning. I nodded slowly, to confirm Vincent’s brutal summary of our limited sex life. “So, jerking off a bit and no actual fucking. Shame, guys. But I can see why. I’m guessing you are useless at fucking, Jason. And Vinny here (Vinny? I thought) - you are a bottom if I ever met one. But - sorry to put it this way - lazy as fuck in bed. I bet Jason’s not the kind of guy you are thinking about when you jerk off together. Is that about right?” I hung my head and could feel my face getting red. Vincent sighed and nodded decisively. Rex was right on all counts. “Glad we got all that out of the way. I’d say I didn’t get here a minute too soon. Well, Jason, I guess if you like jerking off you are gonna like what I have in mind.” He smirked at me. “As for you, beautiful”, he said, caressing Vincent’s neck, “no more jerking off for you. I can tell you need breeding real bad, and I’m your man for that.” He stood up, waiting. Without a word or a signal, Vincent and I helped him peel off his obscenely tight jeans. I have no idea how he got into them, but getting him out of them was a challenge. Stripped completely naked, Rex’s full, hot masculine glory was overwhelming. Jutting straight up past his thick pubes and navel, almost to the base of his pec mounds, stood the biggest cock I had ever seen in person, and probably in porn. Definitely over 10”, and thick from root to circumcised head. The definition of well hung. His big, hairy, balls hung low, pushed out from between his thighs. His ass was covered in a light dusting of hair, which became thicker and darker where it disappeared into his crack. Stripped and revealed in all his powerful glory, he seemed to completely fill the room. He looked at Vincent, then me. “Now, I know you two are not used to dealing with a dick like this, but I want you both to get on it and do your best.” He settled back on the couch and folded his hands behind his head again. I reached out to touch Rex’s cock, barely able to believe he was letting me. Vincent cupped and stroked his balls with one hand. Rex grunted and shut his eyes. “Just keep on stroking my nuts, Vinny, while Jason gets this big fucker lubed up with his mouth.” My jaw was aching almost as soon as I started sucking Rex’s cock, but it felt like the most important thing in the world to make him feel good: I kept going. Vincent’s face was buried in Rex’s balls. Rex grunted again and started to thrust his cock deeper into my mouth. The smell coming off his crotch was so hot. I started pumping my dick but stopped myself in case I came involuntarily before anything had really started to happen. Vincent had started jerking his own cock but Rex, lazily opening one eye a bit, noticed this and slapped his hand away. Rex had reached around to play with Vincent’s butt by now, and had one finger deep in his hole. Finally, he sat up and said, decisively: “OK, Jason, that’s enough. Scoot back over to your chair and leave the rest to me.” I reluctantly took my mouth off Rex’s cock and returned to the armchair. He gathered Vincent up in his arms and then turned him over, so his legs were splayed off the couch, his feet resting on the floor. The contrast between them was amazing to see. Rex eased his swarthy, hairy muscle body on top of Vincent’s pale, smooth, lithe body, his club of a cock glistening with my spit, poised at Vincent’s puckered hole. Rex turned to look at me, waiting. Rex paused at that moment and looked over at me. His face held a question. I nodded, hypnotized by what I saw. “Please fuck him, Rex. Please.” It sounded like I was begging when I said it. It was Vincent who was begging, loudly, a couple of minutes later when Rex had worked his cock deep inside his ass. The effortless power of his fucking was awesome to watch. “Is this what you want, Vinny?” “God yes, fuck me, Rex.” “Is this what you need, Vinny?” “It’s what I need, Rex. Please, please”, he yelled. Rex’s hips bucked as he sank his mighty fucker completely into Vincent’s hole, At that, Vincent’s untouched cock spurted heavily and he groaned in ecstasy. Rex continued thrusting fast and hard into Vincent’s ass, and what they were saying to each other became panting whispers. After a while, Rex looked at me briefly, not even noticing me frantically pumping my dick, then nodded one final time. He grunted, roared, and came inside my boyfriend’s upturned ass. For me, it was like having a ringside seat at the live filming of the best porn movie ever. I finally jizzed, whimpering, onto my belly at the same time as Rex finished his conquest of Vincent. Rex pulled his cock slowly out of Vincent and rolled off him. Vincent in turn rolled onto Rex, flinging his arms around his upper body and nuzzling his bull neck. “Whose ass is this, Vinny?” “Yours, Rex. Totally yours.” “Good answer, baby. Jason, eyes up here now.” I looked directly at Rex. “You happy about this, Jason?” I nodded yes. “You think Vinny deserves a cock like mine?” I whispered that he did. “Speak up, Jason, let’s hear you say that again.” In a clearer, louder voice, I said how much I had enjoyed what just happened and how much Vincent deserved to get properly fucked by a cock like his. It felt liberating to say it. Rex and Us Somehow, after all that, we got around to dinner. Vincent went to the bathroom to clean up and reappeared in track pants and slide ons. The only thing we had big enough for Rex to wear was a bathrobe, which Rex pulled on over his wide shoulders and left open at the waist. The two of them settled down on the couch and made out some more while I got dinner on the table. The main thing I remember about that meal is that Rex ate everything in sight. (Feeding the beast, I thought) The conversation was relaxed and mostly unmemorable. Rex asked Vincent about his work at the dance school and Vincent explained about the injury which had ended his onstage career. He complimented Rex on the work he had done with me - “Jason is way bigger than he was when we met” - and admitted that, now that he was no longer dancing himself, he often thought about how much he would like to put on some muscle and size. This was news to me. I imagined my lithe, slim boyfriend muscled up. Hot as fuck. “I hear guys say that all the time who never do anything about it”, Rex said. “I bet you would be a fast gainer, Vinny, as long as you eat enough along with the training. You would have amazing proportions with some more upper body muscle mass and a some more bulk in just the right places on your ass and thighs.” Vincent was hanging on every word of this. “Fact is, I got a vacancy in my schedule, now that Jason has decided to train on his own.” I began to protest that it had not been my idea to end our training relationship, but Vincent jumped on this offer fast, saying he would love to try the gym. Rex considered this for a moment. “OK. First session is free, of course. If we keep going, I will just bill at my normal rate. No mixing business and pleasure, right?” he laughed. After dinner, Rex drank another whiskey then announced he had to go. “Clients from 10 am onwards tomorrow morning, fellas. Got to pay the bills. But I’ll stay longer next time, that’s a promise.” (Next time? OK. Wow, I thought.) He dressed slowly, as we watched. At the door, he shook my hand, looked me straight in the eye and thanked me for dinner. “And thanks for this, too”, he said, nodding toward Vincent, who stepped eagerly into his arms for a goodbye kiss. I didn’t plan to say it, but found myself saying, with real feeling: “No Rex, thank you. For everything.” Then he was gone. Vincent and I slumped against the hallway walls, facing each other. “Well”, he said. “Wow.” I nodded slowly. “Jason, I’ve never been fucked like that before.” “I know”, I said. “Jason, he is amazing. I really, really liked it.” “I know”, I said. He looked at me searchingly. “Did you … ?”, he began. “Oh yeah, I did, too. A lot.” Without another word, we went to our bedroom, stripped and fell into bed. We were both asleep within minutes. I remember wondering, as I drifted off, whether I had just been sort of cucked, or started couples therapy. Or both.
  13. pasidious

    growth A Bet

    Here's a very short thing I wrote a while back. Figured I'd share it. _____________________ "Betcha mine's bigger." "Yeah, it probably is." "Aw, dude, that's so lame! Can't you at least try to defend yourself?" "Against what? You telling me your dick is bigger than mine? What do I care if it is or isn't?" In truth, I was curious. Very curious. I wanted to know what his dick looked like. I didn't care if he was bigger than me, but my best friend was sexy and he knew it. I wanted to see his dick. But I couldn't very well let on that I was gay and into him. "It's like... a rite of passage, or something. It's what guys do." "You tellin' me that dudes want to see other dudes' dicks?" I asked. He thought on that for a second. "Well, if you put it that way, it does sound kinda gay." "Kinda?" "We're bros, though. Nothin' wrong with some friendly competition. Better yet, how about a bet? Fifty bucks." "Fifty bucks? I don't have that kind of money." "Fine, twenty." I sighed. Would it hurt to pay twenty dollars to see my best friend's dick? FUCK no it wouldn't hurt. "You're on." "Fuck yeah, that's what I like ta hear. Count of three, whip 'em out." He put his hands on the hem of his shorts preparing to lower them. I did the same. "One... two... THREE." I sort of expected him to be pranking me into lowering my shorts while he kept his on, but I kept my word and dropped my shorts. He did, too. My cock flopped out, hanging plump from being semi-hard from being near my sexy best friend. To my surprise, his was also semi-hard. "Whoa, dude. You got a decent cock, there." "Yeah, so do you." We were each looking at the other's dick, and for almost a whole minute, neither of us said a word. It almost felt awkward, but it really wasn't. I watched his cock twitch from time to time, as though it were fighting from growing harder as he stood there. "We're the same size." "Huh?" I grunted, lost in my own head as I was hypnotized by my hot friend's dick. "Same size, dude. It's a tie." "Shit, yeah, looks like it," I responded, glancing from his to mine and back again. "But fuck, what am I thinking. The bet ain't over yet. Let's see 'em hard." "What?" "Hard. Get hard. Let's see them at full size." Fuck. Just hearing him say that made my cock twitch immediately. It was hot. "How? You got porn on your phone?" I asked. "No, but it looks like you're already starting to bone up, anyway." It was true. I wasn't having any luck suppressing my horniness, and hearing him talk about getting hard was making me hard. I felt my dick throbbing and pulsing, and I closed my eyes enjoying the feeling of getting fully and completely hard, my cock rising and plumping and growing. As soon as I felt it reach full size, high in the air, I opened my eyes again, and looked down and saw his doing the same. It was throbbing, twitching, growing before my eyes. And as soon as his reached what I'd assumed was full size, I saw a bead of pure white pearly precum form at his tip. "Fuck yeahhhh," he said, I assume inadvertently, caught in the moment. "Alright, time to compare." And before I had a chance to respond, he walked forward and pressed both our hard cocks together, comparing their size. "Oh fuck," I breathed, feeling tremors up my spine as excitement grew. He let out one of those whistles guys tend to do when they're impressed or something. "Dude, we are like, exactly the same size." "Y-yeah." "Well, I guess it really is a tie." He stepped back again. "Mmhm." And for a few moments, we both sort of stood there, looking down at the other's cock. Neither of us was calming down, I noticed. His cock was bobbing as it throbbed with his heartbeats. "Fuck, I'm horny." "Me too." "Come on, let's take care of these." "Thought you'd never say so." He grinned and took his cock in his hand and started slowly stroking, closing his eyes. I did the same. "Mmmm fuck, this feels better than normal." "Y-yeah," I agreed, feeling the pleasure welling up within my groin as I stroked my cock right next to my best friend, the object of many of my sexual fantasies. "Oh fuck, dude, I can't get enough of this. It feels so fucking good. Like, I can feel it in my whole body." He was right, this did feel way better than normal. I grunted in response, feeling similarly. There was this sensation spreading through my whole body, like it was my entire body that was being rubbed and stroked, and not just my hard cock. "Bro, are you seeing this? Look at my chest!" I looked over and at first had no idea what he meant. But then I saw it. His chest was thicker than it was before. "What...?" "You too!" he shouted. I looked down and my own chest had swelled up and I actually had pecs. Pecs I didn't have before. I watched as they swelled bigger with each stroke of my hand around my throbbing hard cock. Waves of pleasure were washing over my whole being. I happened to catch my abs taking shape as well. "Oh fuck, keep it coming," he said, almost moaning. I looked over and saw his muscles continuing to swell with each stroke. His arms were growing bigger before my eyes, and I saw muscles toning up and growing. A big vein became visible as it ran the length of his arm, especially on his biceps, but down to his forearm as well. The mark of a toned, muscled, strong, hard forearm. His shoulders began to broaden as they became capped with muscle. They too were swelling with each stroke of his cock. And his traps were rising up. He was starting to look like a gym-rat. "Holy fuck," I breathed, looking at his transformation. He looked over at me and grinned. "Don't forget about yourself, dude." I looked down and saw my own body had undergone a very similar transformation. Muscles had grown all over my body in ways I'd only fantasized. I had protruding pecs, six-pack abs, adonis belt, wide shoulders, bulging toned biceps, and a big thick cock. And they were all growing bigger as I stroked myself. I felt myself suddenly about to reach climax. In spite of the slow stroking, I couldn't ignore the tell-tale feeling of a cum explosion welling up from within my balls. I was reluctant to let it happen, fearing it might stop the growth, but I was also super curious what might happen upon exploding. Would the growth halt? Or would there be more to come? And then I heard him. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum."
  14. Mickyh29

    no sex Worshipping my younger bro pt2

    While Ellis was showering I decided to go downstairs, I needed space to compute what had just happened during the past 10 mins or so, I had literally just become putty In my fit brothers strong hands, an 18yr old hunk making a 23yr old feel like a child getting a new toy. Ellis had me in a muscle hunk trance and one that he knew I enjoyed and if I’m honest so the fuck did I. I admit I would have been happy just to set eyes on his incredible body the whole time I was here but now with the whole worship thing I really do feel like that child. Around 15 mins later Ellis made his way back down stairs to the kitchen, luckily for my crotch , considering where we were, he wasn't wearing anything tight but opted for some baggyish grey joggers and a loose tee, even with them on you could still just about see the solid curvature of his pecs, and the roundness of his plump squatters arse. During tea the conversation was mostly about how my new life down south was coming on and future aspirations etc. Ellis was on to me though using every opportunity when mam wasnt looking to wink at me and bounce those ridiculous pecs of his under his shirt, each round of winks and bounces edged my bulge closer to making a visible bulge in my pants, a part of me wanted him to stop as we were nearly finished so I’d have a raging hard on when I stood up, but part of me couldn’t resist just watching as he effortlessly made me internally groan with delight. Ellis rightly or wrongly showed a little mercy and stopped, letting my bulge settle down, we both knew the main event was getting closer. Ellis told his mam that I was going to help him with some course work, we both left the table and headed upstairs, my heart was going 10 to the dozen, what would await me when that bedroom door closed? What did my hot brother have in store for me? I was about to find out, we got to the bedroom, I went in Ellis followed and closed the door behind him, here we go! “ So brother you want to feel what a hard muscular 18yr old body feels like do you? You want to feel every inch of this physique dont you, you want to feel what its like to be strong and have muscles, isn’t that right? ” As if a switch had been flicked inside his head, Ellis had gone from my younger bro to being a freaking hot dominant muscle master. That trance like feeling had been replaced with a real mental hold that Ellis now had over me, I was powerless to resist both mentally and physically, as mentioned Ellis can deadlift nearly 200kg, he'd make easy work of me! “ YES, YES, YES,YES! “ Is all could muster to say. I took a breath, “ I would love nothing more then to get my hands on such awesome muscles like yours, feel how solid they are, feel there power, you are right in everything you say bro.!!” Ellis smiled, “ good little brother, that’s right, little, I’m the bigger brother now right! Your nothing compared to me brother, I’m inferior to you in every way! Now come here and worship your godly brother.” Ellis then grabbed the V part of his tee round his neck, RIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPP, with no effort at all Ellis ripped his tee clean off his body, that muscular body of his primed and ready, I did need a second invitation. “ YES SIR” I blurted out, I moved the quickest i ever think i have towards him. My hands went straight for those bulbous pecs of his, taking in every inch of there fullness, roundness and hardness, I let out a groan as Ellis tensed them and made them impossibly harder, I couldn’t make a dent in them even if I tried. “ so hard so beautiful “ I exclaimed. I thrust my fingers deep into his pec gap, mmmm the power they must have. I move my hands down to his ripped toned midsection, taking in every ridge n rivet of his strong abs, God they felt hard as marble. “ punch me now brother! “ Ellis demands in a commanding tone. I look at him, “ er er er bro I’m not going to hi.......” Ellis' face turns angry, “ PUNCH me now you weak fuck!” he barks . I gulp hard in fear, a punch from Ellis would do 100x more damage to me then I would do to him, I shakingly ball up my fist, I move my arm back and with as much power as I had I aim a punch into his abs, “arghhh" I cry out as my hand feels like it’s just struck a mable slab, Ellis’ abs didn’t even buckle, my hand crumpled away, “ hahah impenetrable bro" Ellis mocks my attempt. “ yes bro they are, you are one solid 18yr old!” I quickly move my hands away and towards his arms, taking in the rippling muscle and size of his forearms, even to the touch you could feel the power surging through them. I slowly move to his biceps and triceps, tracing my finger round the noticeable mound that make you the horseshoe of his tricep, fuuuuck it looked thick and felt juicy, Ellis curled his arm to bring up the peak of his bicep, “ whoah fuuuuuuck" It wasn't even a proper flex but sweet jesus that peak balled up high on his arm, I clasped my hand round it my God it felt like molten lava, I thought his pecs were hard but christ his biceps took on a whole new level of hardness. As much as I wanted to keep worshipping those peaks I had to move on and upwards to his globe like shoulders, each shoulder was capped off with solid rippling mounds of lean muscle. During all this my insanely hard cock was doing its upmost to free itself from the confines of my trousers. Ellis shrugged his shoulders, my hands fell off easily. He turned round so his back was facing me, well when I say back I’m meant the 18yrold son of the Grand Canyon, fuuuuck Ellis’ back was built! I was just about to get my hands firmly on when he hit 2 unbelievable poses. Firstly a back double biceps: I didn’t even wait for the nod, I was straight in there, my bro had arms any grown man would be proud of. Just check out those peaks and believe me there just as impressive in the flesh, God help anyone who has to arm wrestle him, destroyed instantly! Then came the lat spread: It should be criminal for a 18yr old to have a back like that! Just look at that thickness and width, in-fucking- sane, my hands went straight for those lats, I grabbed as much of those meaty wings as I could, they felt unreal, slabs of pure solid muscle just hanging there like hams on a meat hook. Feeling the power that was flowing through Ellis' body and those muscles feeling like his body had been carved from the finest marble was beginning to make me feel weak at the knees.
  15. pasidious

    growth Becoming an Alpha - Part 3B

    Part 3A "Come with me," I said, and grabbed his hand. My heart was pounding in my chest. This dude wanted my cock, and I was going to give it to him. And I'd leave this building even bigger than when I entered. He didn't protest in the slightest, either. I pulled him behind me as we exited the cafeteria and entered the performing arts center which was attached to the same building. There was a private bathroom on the second floor with a locking door, and I was going to take him there. We stomped up the stairs and fortunately there were very few people around. The bathroom was unoccupied. I threw open the door and made sure he was inside with me before letting it shut. I locked the door. Before I could even turn around, his hands were feeling up my arms and I almost didn't even want to turn around. There's just something about having your arms felt. You can almost feel your own hard muscle under someone else's fingers. I extended my arms all the way and flexed my triceps, letting the muscle bulge out from behind my arms. "Fuck," he said, and his hands were instantly upon them. My cock was throbbing against the door. I turned around and saw his brief look of disapproval. I flexed my arms again, facing him, my biceps once again bulging up against my sleeves in a double bicep pose. "Jesus your muscles are hot," he muttered, before he reached out and grasped my arms again, this time with much greater fervor than in the cafeteria. Feeling his hands on my biceps was incredible. It's one thing to feel the cloth of my shirt trying to contain my biceps, but feeling someone else's hands against them was even better. My cock was aching at this point. I grabbed his face with my right hand and kissed him hard. He didn't resist and kissed back, moaning within my mouth as his tongue danced with mine. I pulled my face off his and said "Blow me. Right now" as my left hand was already undoing the drawstring. He knelt down and helped me finish the job as our heavy breathing echoed off the bathroom walls. My shorts fell and I was astonished yet again by the sight of my quads. They weren't huge by any means, but they were definitely thicker. I deliberately flexed them, though, to see what I was missing when I was walking to the cafeteria earlier. The individual heads of muscle were almost visible. And this wasn't lost on him, either, as he took a moment to run his hands along my thighs, squeezing the hard muscle. My angry throbbing cock wasn't going to be patient for much longer, though, as I thrust myself forward and slapped him in the face with it. "Suck me, dude," I breathed. My own behavior was confusing my brain as I was saying things and doing things I would never have done in the past. My actions seemed to be guided not by my brain, though, but by my throbbing cock. He didn't waste a moment and instantly had his tongue dancing along my shaft. He licked the length of its underside which sent shivers down my spine. "Mmmm" I moaned, and he increased the speed of his licking. "Fuck, you taste good," he muttered between licks. "Wait 'til you get to the filling," I said, suddenly pleased with myself for such a swift and witty response. "Mmmf" he grunted as he took the head of my cock into his mouth, flitting his tongue all around it. His hands moved back onto my legs and his fingers were kneading the muscle beneath. I took this as a sign to flex, and I felt my legs harden into muscular strength. I watched his hands literally get pushed out by the muscle bulging, but he kept on rubbing the muscle. It felt amazing. So fucking good. It enhanced the feeling my cock was experiencing as his tongue kept its pace licking and flitting around my slit with the head in his mouth. "Ungh" I grunted in pleasure. And then he swallowed more of my cock, taking in more of its length. The heat of his mouth was far more intense than just my hand, with which I'd become all too familiar, which I already knew from my last two blowjobs, but this time it was seemingly more pronounced. I'd gotten too used to just jerking off. The pleasure of a blowjob was intensely greater than just masturbating in front of my computer screen. His tongue was dancing along my shaft, and every few seconds he'd take in a bit more of it. My cock was apparently pretty big, according to the first dude who sucked me off, and this dude was taking in its length like a champ. Slurping noises were becoming more pronounced as he continued to suckle on it, and the pleasure only increased. "Ooof" I grunted again as my entire cock was down his throat. "Hmmhf" he moaned as he continued to suck me, feeling my legs, almost massaging them. It felt sooo fucking good, especially considering the new muscle in my legs. I could see his own cock was tenting his shorts as he knelt before me, but I wasn't too concerned with it. It was hot, don't get me wrong, but I was only concerned with achieving my own climactic pleasure. I had one hand behind his head, running my fingers through his hair. He had silky hair, very nice to touch. But the dual purpose of my hand on his head was to keep his head on my cock, in case he tried to pull off for any reason. He was going to finish this. He gave no indication of stopping, but I felt like I should take measures to prevent any attempts he could make to pull away. I was so close to achieving more growth. Nothing was going to stop it. I flexed my other arm for myself. I was getting really eager for my cock to explode, and seeing my own bicep flex into hardness was enhancing the experience. The sleeve tightened once again around the muscle, the cloth digging into my skin. Such a rush to feel that sensation. "Oh fuck yyyeahhh" I moaned, feeling the pressure building within my balls. My bicep was so defined. I don't think it fully sank in yet that it was, in fact, my own arm. The definition was perfect. A nice vein was protruding from my skin across the peak of my bulging bicep and I could almost see it throbbing as it pushed my blood through my body, getting ready to feed my muscles with the growth I knew was coming. "Ommmfff" he moaned again, and I saw his eyes looking at my bicep flexing. He was a muscle fag, too, just like the last guy who sucked me off. Of course, I knew that I was a muscle fag. But now I possessed a body I could easily jerk off to. And I was getting bigger. There was a wet spot on his crotch, and I supposed he was leaking pre into his shorts. I pumped my bicep a few times, enjoying feeling that cloth tighten around it each time. Fuck yes. It suddenly occurred to me that my sleeves might bust open in a few moments. And just that thought alone sent me over the edge. "Oh god--unghh--here it coooomes..." I grunted and groaned. My arm fell to my side. My cocksucker didn't know it, but I meant that in two ways. My cum, and the growth that will follow. The pressure reached its zenith. That telltale feeling when you know you're about to explode cum through your cock. And I don't mean those weak-ass ejaculations you sometimes get from a lackluster experience. No. This one was explosive. It was the kind that always makes your cock get even harder right before shooting. It was welling up from deep within my balls, and my cock was about to shoot cum harder than a firehose. I felt him squeeze the backs of my legs as he braced himself. He didn't try to pull away, and I was afraid he might when he knew I was going to cum. He held on. But I kept my hand behind his head anyway just in case. I needed him to swallow all of it. It may not have mattered, but every time I grew, the cocksucker swallowed my load. I wasn't going to take any chances. "Oh g--" and my voice caught in my throat as I felt the first explosion launch from my cock. "Ahh!" I shouted with a somewhat failed attempt at remaining subdued. I didn't want anyone outside the bathroom to hear too much. I obviously couldn't see it, but the volley that exploded from my cock felt huge, and he was struggling to gulp and swallow it all. He didn't gag, though, which was good. "Don't you--*huff*--spill a drop--AHH" and I shot again, another strong volley right into the back of his throat. "MMFF" he made a sound. I couldn't tell if it was of enjoyment or otherwise, but I didn't care. "Fuck yessss" I breathed, before shooting once again. I could feel the energy creeping into my muscles. A new show was about to begin. "Ungghgod," I groaned, as I felt what I assume was one last trailing shot. I gripped his hair, a clump of it within my hand. I was glad he had long-ish hair so I could even do this. I pulled him off my cock, and I realized as it slid out of his mouth that it was just as hard and throbbing as before I came. He was panting, and I could tell the inside of his mouth was coated with my spunk. He looked up at me, one eye closed, and I absolutely loved how my forearm was flexing as I held his hair within my hand. "Watch what you just did to me, little boy," I said with a deliberate attempt at deepening my voice. Why, though? I couldn't help but realize I was talking way differently from how I usually would. 'Little boy'? Did I mean to call him that? My thoughts on my strangely different demeanor were going to have to wait, because the power within my body was coming to its climax and I knew I was about to grow. I pulled on his head a little more until he lost his balance and fell backwards, and as I released his hair from my hand, I could feel the first changes happening to my body. He lay on the cheap tile of the floor of the bathroom and didn't make any attempt to sit up. I felt my body pulse. "You're gonna miss the show!" I shouted. He sat up on his elbows and glanced at me with a bemused expression as I stood there, my breaths shallow but deep. His tent was still pronounced in his shorts. My chest was heaving as my cock remained straight up and out, throbbing and still drooling onto the floor. My shorts remained down around my ankles but that's where I wanted them to stay. And my shirt... well, I definitely wanted that to stay on. For now. I wasn't even going to attempt to reconcile how I was still hard and throbbing. It felt too good to care. Nothing beats being hard and horny. "Ohhh fuck--ngh--yeahhh" I groaned, and I felt it happening. The shirt suddenly felt tighter around my shoulders and lats, and I could see within my peripheral vision that my shoulders were growing larger; they were spreading ever-so-slightly farther apart. My cocksucker's eyes widened. "Fuck yes," I breathed, seeing his reaction. "Unghh" I grunted as I felt growth entering my chest. My pecs were definitely swelling as I felt them flexing on their own. The muscle was bunching up against the fabric of the shirt, and it was tightening even further across my chest. I looked down, trying to see what was happening, and all I could see was my chest was pushing further and further out. My growing pecs caused the shirt to ride up and expose my abs. "Holy fucking shit!" exclaimed my cocksucker. GOD I needed to learn their names. I couldn't just keep referring to them as Cocksucker. Or... maybe I could. Cocksucker number one, cocksucker number two, and now cocksucker number 3. They could have their own t-shirts. I laughed inwardly at myself. But then I shook my head. My nerdy personality was rearing its ugly head and I needed to dispel it. He clambered to his feet, almost tripping over himself twice in the process. He had to brace himself by putting his hands on the wall, but his eyes never left my body. He had an almost hungry look in his eyes as he stared at my muscles. It was lust. I could see he was gathering his senses, and I felt my abs etching themselves deeper into my lower torso. My hands ran over my abs, and yes, they were definitely more defined. Tighter. Harder. I chuckled as I felt the orgasmic pleasure across my body as growth continued to flow through my limbs. The only way to describe it was like that amazing feeling you get in your cock as it hardens and grows from sensually intense arousal, only in my entire musculature. My hands wandered lower to right above my crotch, and my fingers traced my developing Adonis belt. "Fuck yeah," I said again, realizing that was a phrase I'd probably be using a lot. Adonis belts are so fucking hot, and I had one of my own. Suddenly my cocksucker reached for me, and I put my hand up to stop him. "Not yet. Still--" and I gasped, feeling my ass suddenly tighten as my glutes bulged on their own, growing tighter against the door against which I was still standing, "--grrrrowwwwwingg" I groaned, and I felt my legs flex uncontrollably and I could feel them swelling against each other. I had to spread my legs wider and I looked down and saw individual heads of muscle in my quads as they defined themselves before our eyes. "Yessss," I breathed, loving the fact that my legs were achieving the definition I longed for. My calves bulged bigger as well, adding mass and thickening my lower legs. I loved how they were tapering up from my thin ankles, creating a stark contrast. They used to be so skinny. My cocksucker looked frustrated as he stood there watching me. He looked almost frantic, and I could tell he was fighting his desire to worship me. Me! What a rush! His breathing was shallow, and I could see he was leaking profusely into his own shorts as his tent remained ever-prominent. He wanted so badly to feel my body. "How the fuck are you doing this?" he asked. "Just watch," I muttered quietly as I waited for the best part to come. And it was coming, alright. That orgasmic erection-like feeling was spreading across my back, and I felt it widening, thickening, made ever-so-more evident by the further tightening of my shirt. Stress lines were appearing in the cloth as it was being pulled much tighter than it was ever meant for. I rolled my more bulbous shoulders forward, forcing the shirt to tighten greater across my back, and I heard threads snap. "Oh yeah, here we go," I said, and repeated the action. Threads continued snapping, and I could feel the tingling entering my arms. FUCK. I rolled my shoulders forward once more and RRIIPPP the shirt tore down the center of my back. "FUCK!" my cocksucker shouted. He whipped his hand around his dick without even taking it out of his shorts and started jerking himself. "More!" I shouted in response, and I actually brought my arms up in front of my face and watched them, waiting for them to follow the rest of my body. My forearms were pulsing before my eyes, throbbing with each beat of my heart. And it was beating fast, I was so excited. Veins were wrapped around them, my muscle-blood fueling the muscle. They thickened, and I knew the best part was coming. "Aww fuck yeah," I cockily said, and flexed my arms up into my new favorite pose, double-biceps. The sleeves tightened around the muscles, and immediately I could tell they were tighter than before. I straightened my arms, and then flexed again. The sleeves dug into my skin, trying to contain my biceps as they throbbed and grew bigger. Threads snapped. I heard it clearly, and the sound even echoed off the bathroom walls. I looked at my cocksucker and his hand was furiously jerking his cock through his shorts. He was panting, and watching me intently as I continued to transform in front of his eyes. I looked from one bicep to the other, the sleeves still holding on. I don't know which threads snapped, but more were about to. I straightened my arms and flexed again, and this time both biceps surged bigger and my sleeves exploded apart, POP! And two mountains had risen from my arms, exposed entirely, each one with a throbbing vein running across its peak. "FUCK YES!" "Oh fuck, oh god," my cocksucker muttered and I glanced back at him to see him still jerking, but a large wet spot growing on his shorts. "Ohh fuck," he grunted again, and I saw his jerking stop, but his hand continued to grip his bulge through his shorts. His whole body appeared rigid as he stood there, his eyes closed. The wet spot continued to grow. Seeing this dude's cock just go apeshit over my growth sent me over yet another edge as my still hard, throbbing, drooling cock exploded once more. "OHHH FUCK!" I hollered as I felt the explosion well up almost instantly and shoot from my dick, spraying my cocksucker right in the face with the first long, hot, white rope of cum. And then another shot, not as big as the first, but large enough that it almost reached him. And then one more, before it turned into a dribble as cum just puddled all over the floor. And... holy shit, I looked down at my cock and did it... look bigger? I'd have to explore that some more later. Right now, I had a shirt on that was ruined, a large tear down the back and sleeves that were ripped to shreds, and shorts I wasn't sure would fit over my thicker legs. And a little cocksucker covered in my cum and some of his own. Oh boy. How do we get out of this situation without drawing any attention? I felt my insecurities creeping back into my brain as I started thinking of how this might go if someone catches us walking out of a bathroom together with cum all over the place. "Shit" I seethed as I bent over and pulled my shorts up my muscled legs. I moved slow to make sure I didn't accidentally rip them. And, as I brought them up over my quads, I was relieved that they still fit, the stretchy cloth containing them. My thin waist was of no concern, but where my legs were thickest definitely showed through the shorts, now. My cocksucker was stirring, as well, and I was almost concerned he might've passed out since he was so quiet. But he was attempting to wipe away the cum from his face with some toilet paper. He saw me looking at him. "Fuck, dude, how did you do that?" "I legit don't know, man. I just grow when my cock is sucked." "Hottest thing I've ever seen in my life." "Hottest thing I've ever felt in my life. Not even a week ago I was a skinny twig. Then I got my first blowjob. And then another. And now the one you just gave me." I flexed to accentuate my new musculature and my bicep exploded from my arm. It was so hot. To see that muscle which was only just a bump on my arm not long ago. "Fuck yeah," I muttered to myself. The muscle on my body made me forget the possible embarrassment over what transpired in here. I looked into the mirror and saw a jock looking back. "Hey, uh, think we could leave separately? I just wanna make sure no questions arise as to why two dudes were in the bathroom together. Not that I care, I just don't wanna waste my time answering them." I continued to look into the mirror. I tucked my fingers into my torn collar and watched my forearms flex as I ripped it apart, rending my shirt down the center and watched my torso come into full view. "FUCK," I said aloud, looking at two thick pecs, a clear six-pack, round shoulders with visible striations, and even traps. I had that coveted V-taper going, too. FUCK, I was hot! My arms bulged at my sides as I held the rag that was once my shirt. "But--" he started to protest, I assume. "Thanks, bro. Here--" I tossed the rag that was once my shirt at him, and it landed over his head and face, "--use that to clean up. I'll see ya around, alright?" and I unlocked the door and walked out of the bathroom, my bare torso on display for all to see. I didn't even care. The few people who were even around looked, of course, but no one complained. In fact, almost every look I got was one of lust or pure wonder. I felt myself strutting as I walked. My mind, at first, wanted to correct myself and walk normally, but the thought quickly dissipated. I deserved to strut. I was hot. And, as I exited the building into the hot sunlight, I realized a tan would look really good. And I realized something else. I definitely did leave the building even bigger than when I entered.
  16. dw2098lj

    worship The Car Salesman - Chapter 5

    It's be a long time coming - sorry about that - but here's chapter 5. There will be more (I've already started chapter 6). Here's links to the previous chapters as it's been a while: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 I’d heard from friends into fitness that there was only one gym in our town worth visiting and as I walked in I could see why. The huge space was packed with an enormous array of equipment, most of which looked like medieval torture devices. Fuck yeah, I thought. This is my kingdom now. At this time of day my kingdom was pretty quiet, the main patrons being middle-aged women, presumably driven to working out by absent husbands. There were a couple of cougars standing close to me, just on the other side of the cross-trainers. They were talking, gossiping I guessed, clearly not much working out going on. I noticed that one of them, a blonde in her 40s wearing skin-tight lycra kept glancing in my direction. I felt so confident in my new muscle body that I couldn’t help giving her a little flex of the guns and a seductive smile. She nearly fell over in response. As I strutted across the gym floor I noticed that heads, both male and female, were turning. Some were trying to hide it, others who were perhaps close enough to smell my scent literally stopped mid rep to stare at my hulking frame. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted one guy running on a treadmill stumble as he caught sight of me, only just saving himself from falling in a dramatic heap on the floor. I smirked, feeling my cock stir slightly at the attention my Muscle-God body was getting. Pausing for a second, I considered where to start my workout – not on the treadmills or cross-trainers, that was for sure – instead, I headed straight over to one of the sitting chest press machines, squeezing my huge torso in behind the handles. It was an incredibly tight fit. Now what? Everything felt both incredibly alien but also entirely…well, right. I reached down for the pin, and slotted it in about halfway down the weight rack – I’ve got to start somewhere, I thought to myself. Grabbing the handles, I began to press forwards and back with ease, incredible ease – my mammoth pecs barely felt like they were doing any work at all. Despite never having lifted a weight before in my life I could tell that my form was perfect – my newly muscled body just knew what to do. 10…20…30…40…50 reps passed without me even realising – I’m not even sure I started counting straight away. It felt like I could have kept going forever – I mean, who knows, maybe I could…?! “Ha, this is too easy,” I chuckled to myself as I set the handles back and reached for the pin again, moving it to the very bottom of the rack. Let’s give this a go. Without pause I started another set and immediately noticed the slight strain the extra weight was putting on my chest. It felt good. In fact, it felt fucking incredible as my pecs started to fill with blood and I experienced my first ever ‘pump’. Looking down, I swear within a couple of reps, veins started to pop up over my chest, which was exposed above the muscle vest I’d bought the day before at a local sportswear shop. 5..10…15…20 reps passed and I started to slow a little. My colossal chest muscles were screaming with fatigue but I carried on, forcing them to grow. I needed more size. “Twenty-one…twenty-two…twenty-three…” I grunted out loud. It felt like my pecs were going to explode. “TWENTY-FOUR…TWENTY-FIVE…” I screamed, loud enough to turn even the heads of people who weren’t already staring as I let the weights fall back onto the stack with a crash. I looked down at my swollen, aching pecs. “Fuuuck…” I moaned as I reached up and massaged the pumped-up slabs of muscle with my big hands. My pecs felt incredible under my fingers…firm, strong and full of power…so fucking masculine. I let out a low moan as I realised that my cock was semi hard in my tight gym shorts, clearly visible to anyone looking in my direction. Rubbing one hand down the length of my rapidly swelling cock, I continued to worship my enormous pecs with the other, moaning all the while. I thought I’d never be able to stop worshipping my insane torso when I remembered that I could make the feeling even better. My body needed more. I never wanted to lose that incredible pumped feeling. “Again…!” I grunted to myself as I grabbed the handles once more and started my next set. The reps flew by and I felt so fucking powerful as the pump grew more and more intense. Each rep flooded my massive muscles with blood, my vest rapidly stretching to breaking point. I looked down to see the deep valley that formed between the immense mountains of my pecs as they contracted with each rep. A light sheen of sweat was starting to cover each mound of muscle, soaking through the fabric of my strained vest. The smell emanating from my exposed pits was intoxicating, even for me. “I’m…a…fucking…BEAST!” I roared, a word between each of the final reps before dropping the handles and smacking my fists into each of my engorged pec muscles. “Fuck YEAH!” I screamed, throwing my head back. My heart was racing as I closed my eyes and took great, heaving breaths, my mind focussed on only two things. Lifting more. Growing. “Excuse me pal…” said a male voice nearby – weedy, pathetic in nature. I opened my eyes to survey the source of this interruption. Standing in front of me was a personal trainer I’d passed on the way in – the one delegated to man the reception. He looked to be in his early 20s, blonde, not in bad shape with an athletic build and a bit of muscle on his tall frame. Nothing in comparison to me, however. “What?!” I asked, gruffly, still panting from the exertion of my last set. “Erm…well…I was wondering if you could keep the noise down buddy?” he asked, feigning confidence, pretending we were friends. I laughed, deep and booming. “No, I don’t think so,” I replied simply, my voice a growl, the matter closed. I was ready for my next set and began to position myself, eager to make my muscles explode even more than they were already. “Well…pal…I’m really going to need you to keep the noise down,” he persisted. “Some of the other gym users are starting to complain.” This time there was no laughter. Instead, I prised myself out of the chest press machine and stood to my full height, taking one step towards this irritating pretty boy who, I was pleased to see, immediately looked nervous. “Now…buddy…I don’t want any trouble,” he pleaded, a slight quiver in his voice. I saw red. “I AM NOT YOUR BUDDY!” I roared, before grabbing under both of his arms and lifting him up towards the ceiling. It was as if he weighed nothing. I could have destroyed him right then, showing him what this muscle beast body could do, and I very nearly did. At that moment though, I noticed the bulge forming in his shorts, right in front of my face and knew that the AlphaScent was taking effect. I laughed – a great, deep, booming, laugh – as I set him back down on the floor. “Oh dear…it looks like you’re getting a bit too excited,” I mocked, looking pointedly at his small bulge. “No…p-please…I’m n-not,” he stammered, trying to hide the bulge with his hands. “You can’t help it boy…I mean just look at this massive body.” I pulled a double biceps, mere inches in front of his pathetic face. With my pits exposed, he was hit with the full effects of the AlphaScent. “You want to touch these muscles, don’t you boy?” I asked, my voice low, masculine. He nodded. He couldn’t resist what was in front of him. “Speak up!” I ordered. “Yes…” he moaned, now not bothering to hide the tiny bulge in his gym shorts. “Yes, what?” “Yes…Sir” he replied immediately, breathing deeply and inhaling more of my masculine scent, unconsciously edging even closer to me. I wanted to get back to my workout, but I had time for a quick bit of fun. Most of the other gym users had stopped their workouts to turn their heads and stare. Let’s give them something to stare at. “Lick boy,” I ordered, putting one hand behind my head, bicep bulging, and placing my hairy pit in front of his face. He didn’t even pause. The young personal trainer, who I suspect had never done anything with another guy before, buried his face in my ripe pit, tongue out, and licked hungrily from bottom to top. “Mmmmm….fuck…you taste good,” he moaned, reaching down with one hand to rub his pathetic cock whilst he inhaled deeply. He couldn’t stop himself and dived in to lick my manly pit for a second time… “Oh no…I think that’s enough,” I teased, pushing him back with one strong hand. He resisted, desperately trying to make it back to my sweaty muscle pit. “Please sir…let me…I need…your…” He could barely speak, overcome. “That’s enough,” I barked. “I’m not finished pumping these massive pecs yet.” He fell silent, clearly eager to watch. I looked around – a few gym goers were walking fast towards the exit, throwing nervous glances over their shoulders. Others were rooted to the spot, unmistakeably transfixed by the sight in front of them. There was another, not insignificant, group who were subconsciously edging closer and closer. Perfect. “Need more weight,” I growled, looking around until I spotted a workout bench nearby. It was already set up with a barbell over the top and a few plates left on by the previous user. I sauntered over, knowing that the desperate PT was following close behind. “This will do,” I rumbled, picking up more plates from the floor and loading them onto the bar until it was bending downwards at both ends. As I lay down on the bench, the muscle-hungry PT stood himself by my head, as if ready to spot me. Ha. Like I’d need a spotter. I un-racked the bar, holding it straight above my pecs before slowly starting to lower it. “Fuuuuck,” I growled, a mixed feeling of pain and pleasure spreading across my chest as I relished the increased weight. At the bottom of the rep I glanced down – it looked like my pecs were going to fucking explode in front of me. As I began to push the bar up, I noticed the PT reach for the small bulge in his shorts, unable to resist rubbing his cock through the fabric. “Oh no you fucking don’t boy,” I growled at the top of the rep. “Hands behind your back until I say you can touch that pathetic twig.” He obeyed immediately, an almost pained expression on his face as he watched me power through the next few reps. My whole body felt alive with the pump as veins popped up all over my arms and upper chest and sweat dripped from me. The previously loose vest was getting closer and closer to breaking point, stretched across the colossal mass of my pumped pecs. “Fucking…muscle…alpha…” I grunted, gasping for breath between each word, urging my body to obey. To lift. To grow. I managed the first five reps without too much difficulty. Through reps six and seven though, my arms started to shake a little, my tortured chest screaming for relief. I thought rep eight would be my last as I brought the bar down to my chest and began the long press back up again. **RIP** “Oh FUCK,” I moaned, looked down to see that a small tear had formed in the middle of my vest as the fabric started to pull apart, the huge globes of my pecs stretching it in opposing directions. The boy had noticed it too. “Oh my God,” he moaned. “You’re going to explode out of that vest…” From below, I could see that a euphoric look passed across his face. “Oh fuck…I’m going to cum…” he groaned, still resisting the urge to touch himself. The thought of this previously straight young jock cumming handsfree just from the sight of my mammoth body, spurred me on. “NINE…” I screamed, lowering the bar once more. As I pushed up, the rip in my vest started to travel southwards. “Oh fuck,” the boy moaned, his body starting to writhe in agonised pleasure. “TEN…” I bellowed, the sound escaping me like some animal in heat. I paused at the bottom of the rep, looking up at the PT as he suddenly bent double, a wet stain appearing in the front of his shorts as he started to orgasm, his cock shooting forth load after load of cum. My own cock was rock hard in my shorts, inches of throbbing, leaking man-meat snaking down my muscular quad. “FUUUUUCK” I screamed, pressing up one final time, my gigantic pecs swelling up in front of my eyes. It was too much for my poor vest which tore even further, exposing my beyond-pumped pecs in their entirety. Letting out a final grunt, I re-racked the bar before sitting up and reaching down to grab the tatters of my new vest. With one pull I ripped it from my sweaty, engorged, pumped torso and threw it to the floor. “I’M A FUCKING BEAST!” I roared, once again hitting my aching pecs with both fists before pulling a massive most muscular pose in the face of the still-orgasming personal trainer. On instinct I reached into his gym shorts, scooping his huge, sticky load onto my fingers. “THIS LOAD WAS FOR ME SLUT!” I yelled in his face before reaching up to feed him his own seed. He didn’t hesitate, hungrily licking my hand and sucking on my fingers, not wanting to waste any of his own load. Once he’d got every drop, I grabbed his top with both hands and tore it down the middle, exposing his own toned torso. “Take these off,” I ordered, gesturing to his stained gym shorts. He immediately obeyed, slipping them down to the floor and kicking them off to the side. He stood in front of me, naked, his tiny cock still rock hard above his smooth balls. He had a great body, clearly having spent a long time in the gym but it looked like nothing standing next to my colossal mass. I suddenly became aware of others, remembering that we were not alone in this gym. I looked up to see that there were between five and ten gym goers left, surrounding me and the PT – a mix of men and women – all of them with a look of pure lust on their faces, intoxicated at the sight and scent of me. Some of the guys already had their cocks out and were jerking them furiously, overcome by the scene in front of them. The blonde cougar I’d seen earlier was closest and first to act. She walked towards me and started pulling off her gym clothes until she too was standing in front of me completely naked. “Oh baby,” I moaned, taking in her hot body, my rock-hard cock seemingly getting even harder in my tight gym shorts. “You’re so fucking big,” she responded simply, starting to grind her exposed pussy against my massive, tree-trunk quads, moaning all the while. “Yeah baby,” I grunted, pulling a double biceps pose. “You love this huge muscle body, don’t you?” She moaned some more, and nodded in response, biting her lower lip in the sexiest way. Still grinding on my upper leg, her hands explored my pecs and biceps and she dug her fingers into my aching muscles. “You too boy…worship your alpha,” I ordered to the personal trainer. He joined the cougar and I groaned as two sets of hands roamed over my swollen muscles, both moaning at the sensations my body provided. I pulled different poses, flexing all muscle groups in response to their squeezing, kissing and licking. Pecs…biceps…quads…abs…lats…delts…triceps… Flexing over and over. A constant stream of poses… The boy couldn’t keep away from my muscle pits, repeatedly burying his face in there and inhaling deeply. The cougar couldn’t help grinding her pussy and tits over whichever part of me was closest. I shut my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being worshipped, groaning and grunting, my cock aching as it leaked what felt like gallons of pre. Suddenly I was aware that there were more than four hands exploring my body and my eyes sprang open. The sight in front of me nearly made me cum there and then. The other gym goers had all stripped naked and were crowded around me, cocks hard, pussies exposed, all of them moaning and lusting over me. “I’M A FUCKING GOD,” I exploded, increasing the intensity of my flexing in response to the sea of worshippers around me. I loved how they jostled with each other for room, desperate to get as close to me as possible. I felt someone grab the waistband of my gym shorts and pull them down, letting out my rock-hard, aching cock which whacked up against my cobbled abs. “Mmmmm…that feels good,” I moaned, as unseen hands wrapped around my man-meat and began to stroke. To be worshipped by this many people was driving me insane, causing me to let out deep moans which reverberated in my expansive chest. I marvelled as the group collectively pushed me backward, forcing me to lie down on the workout bench behind me. They were being turned crazy by this fucking alpha muscle God as they continued to grind against me. None of them spoke except to utter expletives and worship in equal measure. “Shit…his biceps…” “So fucking massive” “Mmmm…look at these quads…” “So…masculine” “…enormous fucking pecs…” Their naked bodies pressed in, surrounding me as I looked up at the ceiling – I could barely move except to bounce and flex my muscles for their pleasure. So many hands and mouths were exploring every inch of my massive body, still jostling against each other for prime positions. I looked down to see two of those gathered, one girl and one guy, start to suck on my big sexy nips. “Mmmmmm….yeah…fuuuuck…worship me,” I moaned, so turned on by the attention I was getting, gradually losing control. The sensation was almost overwhelming. The young PT was standing to close to my head, his tiny cock directly in my eyeline as I looked up. He was furiously jerking off with two fingers of one hand whilst his other hand explored any inch of me he could reach. He was out of control, moaning constantly as he grabbed my delts…my pecs….my biceps…my traps… Without any warning his whole body began to convulse as he had his second massive orgasm of the day. Huge streams of cum shot from the end of his pathetic cock, splattering across my pecs and abs and running down the deep crevices of my upper body. “Fuck man…” I moaned, about to object to him shooting his load all over me. My words died in my mouth, however, as three other guys also started to erupt, covering my torso in great ribbons of their cum as they screamed in orgasm. Fuck. Is this what being an alpha means? Getting covered in other dudes’ cum? I wondered how the fuck Karl dealt with this. Perhaps I applied too much of the AlphaScent or maybe I applied it too soon before coming to the gym… These guys were going insane… I was distracted from my confused thoughts by the feeling of someone pressing down on my rock-hard, aching cock. Through the mass of bodies in front of me I could just make out the hot cougar who had positioned herself to straddle my midriff. She was slowly lowering herself down onto my impressive tool, her wet pussy encompassing me. “FUCK baby,” I moaned, “that feels incredible”. All thoughts of other guy’s cum left my head as I started to buck my hips, driving my thick cock up inside the hot blonde. Her big tits started to bounce as I pummelled her with my man-meat. “OH FUCK, take this massive cock!” I roared, starting to fuck her hard and fast. I was out of control. A beast. An animal rutting. The cougar reached down to run her hands over my pumped, swollen pecs and then my abs, all the while moaning and bucking on my enlarged cock. “Feels…so…big…” she moaned, between each of my thrusts. She started to massage her own breasts in total ecstasy. The rest of the group continued to worship my God-like body with their hands and mouths, grinding on me, driven muscle-crazy by the sight in front of them. Even the guys who had just cum were still jerking their still-rock-hard cocks as I flexed and fucked. I pulled my arms up into a double biceps again and immediately the PT started to grind his cock on my granite muscles. “So strong…” he moaned, rubbing his tiny tool over my enormous biceps, leaving a trail of sticky pre-cum over the swollen peaks. Within seconds he had shot yet another load, just as big as the first two, covering my biceps in his man juice. I grunted in response, ready to object to being covered in his load yet again when I noticed how fucking good my bicep looked with his cum running off it. I was surprised that thoughts of bringing my bicep to my mouth and licking his massive load off my swollen muscles filled my head. “Fuck!” I growled, as I continued to pound the attractive cougar. Her pussy felt so good around my swollen cock. Someone tweaked my big sexy nips. “FUCK!” I screamed in response, bucking my hips on the workout bench. An incredible feeling was building in my aching balls… I thrust up hard and fast. There were hands over my biceps…my pecs…my delts. Someone was licking my quads. “FUCK!” I roared, sweat pouring off my engorged pecs, trickling down my abs. The cougar bounced on my massive tool. The feeling was getting more and more intense… I looked down, gasping. My whole body was covered in sweat and rivers of cum. I felt someone massaging my swollen balls. “FUUUUCKKKKK!” I screamed, as I could take no more and my cock started to explode. My whole body writhed and bucked, cum shooting up deep inside the cougar who also thrashed around in her own orgasm. “SUCH A FUCKING GOD….!”. It felt like the feeling would never end, my whole body on fire with pleasure, my cock still erupting rivers of warm cum. Before I knew what was happening, though, the cougar had been pulled off my cock and fell, semi-conscious to the floor. She was immediately replaced by someone else – it was the young personal trainer. He’d grabbed some lube and I watched as he applied it liberally to my cock and his hole. “What the FUCK guys?!” I barked, trying to get up from the workout bench. The bodies around me closed in, pressing down on my upper body as they continued their uncontrolled worship of my divine body. I couldn’t move. Fuck. “STOP…!” I roared, desperately trying to free myself. I didn’t want to fuck a guy. It was no use. I felt the PT starting to lower himself. My cock was still rock-hard and now pressed against his tight, lubed-up hole. “Please…” I moaned. Too late. My massive cock head popped through his virgin hole. “Fuck,” he screamed, moaning as he continued to lower himself onto my cock. He didn’t pause once, clearly hungry for my massive tool. As I watched, the most amazing feeling developed in my cock and balls. “FUCK, that feels incredible!” I roared, forgetting my previous objections. Spurred on by my pleasure, the PT lower himself all the way, so that I was balls-deep inside him. Instinctively I began to thrust upwards as he simultaneously started to ride my masculine man-meat. I was nearly thrown unconscious by how incredible this felt. “I’M…A…FUCKING…MUSCLE…BEAST!” I screamed between thrusts, watching as his tiny cock bounced, flipping up to hit the bottom of his abs over and over again. I was still surrounded by a huge number of bodies. Hands continued to worship me. Mouths continued to lick and kiss. The cougar lay comatose on the floor. The PT rode my cock like he’d been taking dick for years. I still lay on the workout bench, barely able to move for the pressure of bodies on top of me. I reached down to grab the PT’s tight waist, pulling him down deeper onto my raging cock. He screamed in response, his eyes rolling back. “Give me your massive cock,” he moaned, his hands exploring my huge arms and flexed pecs. I obliged, slamming into him hard…forcing myself deep inside him. “Feels…so…good,” he whimpered, slamming his hips down. He was getting close. I was desperate to shoot another load. “You’re gonna take my load bitch…” I moaned as I fucked him faster and faster. For the second time, I felt the most amazing feeling building in my balls. My whole body felt like it was going to orgasm at any moment and my vision started to close in, black spots appearing at the edges. “FUUUUUUCK!” I roared as my cock swelled up and started to erupt deep inside the muscular jock. The first time I’d ever cum inside another guy. “FUCK…FUCK…FUCK!” I moaned desperately as my hips bucked and my cock continued to spurt cum inside him. I could feel my consciousness slipping. The darkness around the edge of my vision, expanding. I was going to blackout at any second from pure pleasure. Instinctively, I reached up to grab his tiny cock, only having to stroke it just once before it erupted in front of my eyes. He shot his biggest load so far, massive globs of cum covering my already saturated pecs and abs. As he continued to ride my cock some of his cum flicked up onto my face, trickling down into my mouth. I moaned as I gave in and swallowed it hungrily. The darkness expanded. *** I came back round to the sound of continued moaning and grunting. The incredible feeling in my cock and balls was sustained. It felt like it would never end. My eyes slowly opened and I took in what was going on – bodies still surrounded me but the PT had been replaced by someone else. Another woman, around the same age as the cougar, was now taking her turn on my cock, bouncing on my still-erect man-meat. I groaned as, once more, the darkness closed in. *** There was a different feeling this time. Still, I was aware of someone bouncing up and down on my aching cock but there was something else going on. A new sensation. I opened my eyes and moaned. A guy was standing over me, his fat cock stretching my lips as he fucked my throat. Someone else was riding my cock. A heap of semi-conscious bodies lay on the floor. I felt as the cock in my mouth swelled and started to convulse. Rivers of hot, sticky cum shot down my throat. Fuck. *** Before opening my eyes once more, I surveyed my senses, trying to work out if it was over. I could tell that my abused cock was now resting soft on my abs. There were no hands or mouths pressing into me. There was nothing in my mouth, except for the taste of another guys cum. The whole place smelt of sex. I gradually opened my eyes and gazed downwards. My enormous pecs continued to heave with each of my deep breaths, covered in a mix of sweat and cum. Beyond, my abs too were covered in various body fluids which filled the deep ridges between each cobbled muscle. I sat up slowly, my whole body aching, feeling the blood rush down from my head and nearly blacking out once more. I managed to cling onto consciousness and took in the scene in front of me. “What the fuck happened?” I moaned out loud.
  17. armwreslr

    strength The Kid Freak (Part 6 Added)

    This is my first story. I intend on expanding it or continuing it. Let me know your thoughts. THE KID FREAK Oliver is just entering 12th grade, when he starts to notice some changes happening to him. Oliver had always been a tall, skinny, geeky kid with dark hair and green eyes. His mother is a Chemistry professor at a local college. She always encouraged her son to study, get good grades and perhaps be a professor one day. When Oliver wanted to play sports, she generally discouraged it. It’s the beginning of 12th grade and there’s a party at Candy Johnson’s house. Candy is a popular girl because she’s not just beautiful, she’s smart as well. Her parties always attracted the jocks and the nerds, a rare mix. Oliver is hanging with a couple of his World of Warcraft buddies, when an arm wrestling match breaks out between a couple of the big jocks at the kitchen table, Big Mike, from Oliver’s high school, and Brock, from a rival high school. They were both shirtless. Big Mike is 6’ tall, 230 lbs, but he’s not lean. He’s got brown hair and a scruffy face. He’s pretty thick. Brock is 6’1” tall and weighs 210 lbs with blonde hair and blue eyes but is pretty lean. The match starts, and Oliver is mesmerized by the test of strength. Both guys have pretty big arms, but Brock’s arms are more defined with a nice peak to his biceps. After about 30 seconds, Brock puts Big Mike down. “It’s getting easier to beat you, Fatty,” says Brock, with a big smile on his face. Big Mike responds, “The only reason you can beat me is because your father is a pro arm wrestler!” “He’s actually the Super Heavyweight World Champion!” says Brock. Brock catches Oliver staring at him. “You wanna arm wrestle, Nerd?” asks Brock. “Umm…no.” Oliver’s friends push him over to the kitchen table. Melvin, a nerdy, skinny kid with thick glasses, says, “C’mon Olly! You’re stronger than you think!” Brock puts his elbow on the table and wiggles his fingers. Oliver looks around at everyone staring and slowly puts his elbow on the table and locks hands with Brock. Big Mike starts them up. “Ready, Go!” Brock and Oliver start slow. Brock is smiling because he knows he has total control. He’s going against a skinny geek. Brock starts to put some real effort into putting Oliver down, but he’s noticing it’s much harder than expected. Big Mike says, “C’mon Brock, stop playin’! Put him down!” Brock pushes harder, but Oliver is not going down easily. Melvin pulls up the sleeve of Oliver’s oversized t-shirt to reveal a small, but ripped and peaked biceps. Big Mike’s eyes show surprise. “Holy shit! I didn’t expect that from Olly,” says Mike. Brock is sweating and now putting maximum effort into beating Oliver. After 45 seconds, he finally puts Oliver down. “Holy shit, Oliver! You’re a lot stronger than I expected. You put up a real fight!” exclaims Big Mike. Brock butts in, “No way, dude. You tired me out. I would destroy him fresh.” Big Mike pulls Oliver aside. “Have you ever lifted weights?” Oliver responds, “No. My mom never let me play any sports. She just wanted me to study.” “Bro, let me train you. You have incredible potential,” says Mike. “You really think so?” “Fuck yeah, I do. Somehow, you’ve built some muscle and strength from doing nothing. Let’s see what you can do if you actually lift weights and challenge yourself.” Oliver agrees to do it. *** Oliver shows up to the football gym with Brock, after all the players have left. “Let’s get some baseline measurements, Olly. Take your shirt off and jump on the scale.” Oliver looks around. “No one is here, buddy,” says Mike. Oliver takes off his shirt. “You’re quite skinny, but you don’t have an ounce of fat.” Oliver has a lot of veins showing as well. Oliver steps on the scale. “Okay, your height is 6 feet tall, and you weigh 155 pounds. Let’s measure your arm.” Oliver flexes his arm and a small, but ripped and peaked biceps appears. Mike measures it. “Wow, Olly, you’re not big, but your bicep is peaked and has great shape. It’s almost 15 inches.” “Really?” asks Oliver. “I swear. When you start to add size, I wouldn’t be surprised if you could be a serious bodybuilder.” “But I want to be strong, so people like Brock can’t pick on me or make fun of me anymore.” “Olly, there is something about you. I think you could be, not just a bodybuilder, but maybe one of the strongest bodybuilders.” “I’m just a nerd,” says Oliver. “I know it appears that way, but something in my gut is telling me different,” responds Mike. Mike takes a couple more measurements. Waist, 27 inches. Quads, 23 inches. Mike takes Oliver over to the bench press. “I’m going to test your strength in different exercises to get your baseline max in each exercise. Then we can measure again every few months.” Oliver agrees. After several warmup sets, Mike puts 155 lbs on the bar. “Anyone that can bench press their bodyweight for 10 reps is considered to be in good shape.” Oliver takes the bar and starts to bench press. He presses it 10 times very easily. “Yes! Too easy!” says Mike. Mike loads 225 lbs. Oliver bench presses it for 5 reps. Mike loads 275 lbs. Oliver bench presses it for 1 rep. “Holy shit, Olly! I knew it! I knew there was something about you.” Oliver is surprised. “Is this considered good?” “Bro, you’re skinny as fuck weighing 155 lbs, and you just bench pressed 275 lbs! And look at yourself in the mirror!” Oliver goes to the mirror. He’s never seen his muscles pumped. He’s sweaty and shiny. His chest is showing a little thickness and rips like he’s never seen before. Abs are shredded. He flexes his arms, and they appear bigger and more ripped. Oliver finishes the rest of the tests. He ended up squatting and deadlifting 305 lbs. He curled 120 lbs on a straight bar. Oliver and Mike agree to keep training together and to keep everything under wraps. No showing off, and Oliver will continue wearing baggy clothes to hide his gains until they decide to reveal them. *** Over the entire 12th grade and into the summer, Mike trained Oliver in secret, nearly every day. Mike and Oliver were shocked at Oliver’s gains. The main state college branch is in their hometown, and freshman year has started, so Mike takes down Oliver’s stats and tests his strength. Height, 6’. Weight, 180 lbs. Biceps, 18.5”. Waist, 28.5”. Quads, 25”. One rep maxes…Bench press, 495 lbs. Straight bar curls, 225 lbs. Squat, 725 lbs. Deadlift, 755 lbs. Oliver asks, “So, honestly, Mike, how do you think I’m doing?” Mike shakes his head in astonishment. “Bro, you’ve far exceeded my expectations. In one year, you look like a real competitive bodybuilder, but what’s blowing my mind, is your strength to weight ratio.” “What about it,” asks Oliver. “You totally don’t get it, do you,” asks Mike. Oliver has a blank stare. “Bro, at this rate, you’re going to be benching over 600 lbs in a few months and maybe you’ll be the lightest person to ever do that,” Mike exclaims. “Whoa…” Oliver is blown away. “I had no idea.” Mike nods his head. “Maybe it’s time for you to test your strength against others.” Oliver smiles. *** A couple months later, it’s time for Candy’s yearly party. Big Mike takes Oliver with him. It’s chilly outside, so Oliver wears a jacket. Oliver and Mike go into the house. It’s quite warm with all the kids partying. They go into the kitchen, where there are about 15 guys and girls. Mike grabs a beer for Oliver. Oliver takes a sip and looks at Mike. He processes the taste. He looks at Mike and smiles. “I never thought I would like beer, but it’s actually pretty good,” says Oliver. An hour goes by, and Mike and Oliver drink about 6 or 7 beers, when Oliver’s nerdy friends show up. “Oliver!” screams Melvin. A big smile comes across Oliver’s face. Melvin shakes Mike’s hand and then Oliver’s. “It’s been a year, since I’ve seen you, Olly,” says Melvin. “I know. Big Mike here has been training me, so I haven’t had a lot of time. I miss you guys.” “Yeah, I knew something was up, and when I just shook your hand, it’s so much bigger,” says Melvin. “Come here. I want you to feel something,” says Oliver. Mike smirks. Melvin comes in close. Oliver flexes his biceps by his side. His jacket arm fills out. Melvin’s eyes get big. He puts both hands around Oliver’s biceps. “Oh my God, Oliver!” Oliver’s heart rate increases with the exhilaration of his friend. “Your arms are massive and hard as a rock!” Oliver smiles and looks at Mike, who nods back at him. “I can’t wait to show you what I can do with this muscle,” says Oliver. Mike says, “It won’t be long. Look who showed up.” Brock walks into the kitchen with a couple friends, Jeff and Scott, both pretty big guys. He’s wearing a tank top and looking bigger and leaner than last year. Brock sees Big Mike. “Yo, Mike! You’re looking bigger than last year,” says Brock. “I am bigger,” replies Mike. “Not as big as this,” says Brock. Brock hits a double biceps shot showing off his 18-inch biceps. “That’s true, but your arms aren’t as big as Olly’s,” says Mike. “What? The nerd I beat last year?” asks Brock. “I wouldn’t call him that anymore, Brock. Show him, Olly.” Oliver steps forward and looks at Mike. Mike nods his head. Oliver is sweating profusely from wearing the jacket in the hot house. Oliver slowly unzippers his jacket. First a glimpse of his chest and then his abs. He removes his jacket and a few audible gasps come from some of the kids in the kitchen. “Oh my God,” says Melvin. Oliver is standing there, dripping sweat, pumped and totally ripped with thick slabs of muscle and not an ounce of fat. Even Mike is shocked. “Show the arm wrestler some real arms, Olly,” says Mike. Oliver hits a front double biceps shot. His arms are ripped with huge peaks, hitting 19.5” with a thick biceps vein. “You may be big, but I’ll destroy you in arm wrestling. I just won the state championship,” exclaims Brock. Mike says, “Let’s do this!” Brock takes a seat at the end of the long kitchen table as does Oliver. They put their elbows on the table and clasp hands. Some of the kids start recording video with their phones. Jeff starts them off. “Ready, Go!” Brock screams and hits first bringing Oliver’s arm down about halfway. Brock laughs. Brock leans in with his shoulder putting all his weight into it to put down Oliver. Mike screams, “C’mon Olly! Don’t let him intimidate you! You’re stronger than he is! Get angry!” Oliver screams and starts pulling hard. His biceps vein starts to pop thicker, and the cords of muscle of his biceps start to increase in prominence. Oliver bends his wrist activating his huge forearms, pumping bigger. Oliver’s biceps start to peak larger as he starts to move Brock’s arm up. “Jesus, look at the kid’s arm,” says one of the guys watching. Oliver pulls his arm almost back to the center position, when Brock grabs the side of the table with his free arm. He screams and using all his strength pulls Oliver back down to the halfway point again. Mike screams, “Brock is cheating grabbing onto the side of the table!” Jeff responds, “No way, bro. Arm wrestling tables have pegs on the side to grab, so it’s fair.” “Okay, but the table is too long for Olly to grab the side with his hand,” retorts Mike. Jeff just shrugs his shoulders. Melvin screams, “C’mon Olly. Show me that muscle, that strength!” Oliver grunts loud and pulls hard, but he can’t move Brock. “No way you can pull through this!” Brock laughs. Oliver screams and pulls with everything he has. At first, he doesn’t move, but after a few seconds, Oliver starts to move Brock’s arm back. Jeff screams, “No way! He’s doin’ it!” Scott adds, “Yeah, and he’s doing it with just one arm!” Oliver’s skin is paper-thin showing all the muscle fibers in his cannonball shoulder and his biceps and triceps, rippling. His biceps is peaking extremely high as he gets back to the center. Melvin says, “Jesus, his arm is more massive than Brock’s!” Brock gets angry and screams trying to pull Oliver back down, but Oliver is ready for it and holds him there. Brock tries several times but can’t break through. Oliver screams and starts to pull Brock down. Oliver’s abs and chest are completely shredded as those muscle groups help with the effort. Oliver’s biceps vein is pumping huge amounts of blood to the muscle as it continues overpowering Brock’s efforts. Brock screams and tries will all his strength to stop Oliver, but Oliver’s ripped muscle is just too strong. “Yeah,” screams Oliver as he continues pushing Brock’s arm down. Oliver stops his assault with Brock’s wrist three inches above the table. He looks at Brock. Oliver shifts his weight and arm position so that he’s just using his triceps. “Give me everything you have,” says Oliver. Brock screams, trying to pull with everything he has. Oliver’s triceps explodes as he takes everything Brock has and overpowers him, slowly pushing Brock’s arm down. Scott says, “Holy shit! The kid’s just using his triceps to overpower Brock! That’s just raw strength!” A few seconds later, Oliver pushes Brock’s arm to the table. Mike screams, “Yeah! You did it, Olly!” “You cheated! You had to have cheated,” said Brock. “Bullshit! I even let you use both hands,” screams Oliver. Brock looks around the room. “You all better delete those videos before I beat your asses.” One of the kids says, “Sorry man. I think that kid Joey was live on Instagram.” “I’m gonna kill him,” Brock screams. Brock runs out looking for Joey. Oliver turns to Mike, “I was acting.” “What,” asks Mike. Oliver responds, “Yeah, he was very easy to arm wrestle. I just screamed for effect.” Mike smiles. “Son of a bitch! You’re getting too strong!” Mike and Oliver grab another beer. All of a sudden, there is a commotion out back by the pool. Mike and Oliver walk out to see what’s going on. Everyone is surrounding some big man, trying to get autographs. “Holy shit! It’s Grip Master,” screams Mike. “Who’s that,” asks Oliver. “He’s a huge professional wrestler that beats his opponents in unbreakable wrestling holds,” Mike responds. “Candy’s older brother is friends with him,” he adds. As Mike and Oliver approach, some of the kids gasp as they see Oliver, pumped and sweaty from his arm wrestling match. Grip Master, who has a shaved head and is 6’5” tall and weighs 310 lbs, looks over to see what’s going on. Mike says, “Hey Grip Master! Huge fan! Could we get a pic with you?” Grip Master responds, “Well, shit, this guy is going to out angle me.” Mike says, “Naa, he’s a kid. He doesn’t even watch pro wrestling.” Grip Master asks, “Wait, he’s a kid?” “Yeah, he’s just 19 years old, but he’s a KID FREAK.” “How big are you,” asks Grip Master. “I’m 6 feet tall and weigh 205 lbs,” says Oliver. “You look much bigger than that,” says Grip Master. Mike adds, “What’s freaky is his strength. The kid bench pressed 585 lbs yesterday in his workout, and he did it easily.” Grip Master gives a skeptical look and says, “I seriously doubt that. I can bench press 680 lbs, and I’m much bigger than him. No one can bench press 585 lbs at his bodyweight.” Mike responds, “It’s true! If we had a bench press here, Olly could show you.” Mike thinks for a second. “What if he could break one of your unbreakable wrestling holds? Would you believe him if he could do that?” Mike asks. “Yeah, but we all know that’s impossible,” Grip Master responds. Oliver adds, “Please, let’s try it. I want to test my strength against you.” Grip Master starts to walk around Oliver, slowly, eyeing him up and down. Mike starts recording video on his phone. Grip Master slips behind Oliver and wraps his arms around Oliver’s torso from the back, putting him into a reverse bearhug, pinning his arms by his side. Oliver winces in pain. All the kids gather around to watch this test of strength. Some are recording it with their phones. Grip Master lifts Oliver off the ground, shaking him and crushing him. Oliver tries to pull his right arm up. His shoulder is ripped and pumped as he puts forth the effort. His arm starts to slowly slide up, especially will all the slippery sweat. He frees his right arm and starts on his left arm, pulling up. Grip Master is tightening his hold, but Oliver is strong enough with the slickness of his body to pull out his left arm. Now Grip Master tightens his hold enough to push the air out of Oliver’s lungs. He starts coughing. “C’mon Oliver! You have to break his grip,” screams Mike. “No way he can do that,” screams one of the kids. Oliver breaths in deep and screams, hitting a massive front double biceps shot. Gasps from the crowd as they are in awe of his massive and shredded physique. Grip Master’s hold is that he’s grabbing his right wrist with his left hand. Oliver crisscrosses his hands, grabbing Grip Master’s right fist with his right hand and grabbing Grip Master’s left hand with his left hand. Oliver screams and starts pulling apart as if he’s trying to bend the bars of a steel cage. His biceps explode in size with thick biceps veins pumping massive amounts of blood to his incredible ripped muscle. Every muscle fiber can be seen. His lats expand with the massive effort being put forth. Grip Master is holding the grip in place. “Nice try kid, but you’re going to have to try harder than that,” says Grip Master. Oliver screams and pulls harder. His biceps seem to be getting larger with the effort as well as his forearms. Sweat is dripping down his heaving chest and his chiseled abs. Grip Master seems to be starting to labor a bit. One of the kids says, “This kid is ripped as fuck, and he’s making Grip Master work!” Hearing that excites Oliver. Oliver screams again increasing the pressure. Grip Master starts to breath heavy. Another kid says, “This kid’s arms are huge.” “Yeah, and his strength is insane,” responds another. Oliver goes nuts after hearing that, screams and pulls with everything he has. His ripped biceps are nearly exploding with every muscle fiber showing through his paper-thin skin. His shoulders are huge, round and ripped. Abs are shredded. Oliver looks down at his own body, in awe of his incredible strength. He slowly starts to pull apart Grip Master’s unbreakable reverse bearhug. “Yeah,” Oliver screams as he feels himself overpower the strongest grip in professional wrestling. Oliver can hear the kids… “Impossible,” “No way,” “He’s breaking free!” Oliver slowly pulls his hands apart. Grip Master screams and, using his incredible chest strength, stops Oliver. Grip Master tries to close it back up, but somehow Oliver’s arms and shoulders begin to overpower Grip Master’s incredible chest strength, continuing to pull apart his arms. Grip Master falls backwards, staring at his hands in shock. He then looks back at Oliver as Oliver turns back around. Oliver screams and hits a front double biceps, with biceps that must be over 20 inches, pumped. Mike walks over to Oliver. “Believe it now, Grip Master,” asks Mike. “Hell yeah. I’ve never felt that much power before from anyone!” Oliver smiles. *** Another year goes by. Mike continues training Oliver in secret. Somehow Oliver continues making incredible gains in size and strength. Oliver’s latest stats are: Height, 6’. Bodyweight, 230 lbs. Biceps, 22 inches. Waist, 30 inches. Quads, 28 inches. Oliver’s strength level is incredible with a 685 lb bench press, 275 lb strict straight bar curl, 960 lb squat and a 980 lb deadlift. His bodyfat is as low as it has ever been. “How would you like to test your physique against bodybuilders and your strength against arm wrestlers, powerlifters and strongmen, all in the same day,” asks Mike. “Hell, yeah, but where can we do this?” “At the Arnold Classic this weekend. It’s two months away. Let’s see what kind of gains you can make until then.” responds Mike. Oliver says, “Let’s do it!” *** Mike and Oliver are in their hotel room at the Arnold Classic. They are lying in their beds resting. “You awake,” asks Oliver. “Yeah, what’s up?” “My mom hasn’t really spoken with me much about my gains. I thought it was weird because she never encouraged me to do any athletic or physical activity. It was always about studying. So, I asked her if she was shocked by my transformation,” says Oliver. “Okay,” responds Mike Oliver continues, “She says she wasn’t. She met my father in a one night stand. She never even got a picture with him, but he was an incredibly built man with muscles everywhere and no bodyfat. What made her lust for him was an incredible feat of strength he performed.” “What did he do?” “A car accident happened in front of a gym. He was training after hours. My mom was waiting for a taxi, when a car went out of control up onto the sidewalk and hit and ran over an old man. His leg was pinned under the tire. Without thinking, my father put his hands under the passenger side of the car, screamed and lifted the side of the car up. She pulled the old man out from under the car.” “Holy shit,” exclaims Mike. “Yeah, that night they went to dinner together and had sex. He left the country never to be seen or heard from again. She suspects that he was likely married and ashamed. She never told me all this because she didn’t want me to go down that path.” “Oh man. I’m really sorry to hear that.” “Here’s the interesting part. My mom asked how he got so strong. He told her the usual stuff about lifting heavy weights, but he also told her he had a rare genetic mutation that not only allowed for good muscle growth but allowed for the muscle to contract extremely hard. His nervous system was also somehow enhanced. A year after I was born, she got me tested, and I have the same condition as my father.” “Wow! This is incredible. I wonder what your limits are,” said Mike. “I don’t know, but I’m going to push myself to get stronger than any human alive,” exclaims Oliver. “Hell yeah!” Mike jumps out of bed. “Since we’re going to hit bodybuilding first, let’s put on your last coat of tan,” says Mike. Over the next hour, Mike paints Oliver’s skin with the bodybuilding posing tan making his skin dark, which shows the cuts and rips in Oliver’s muscle much better, especially under bright lights. Mike gives him a pair of posing trunks to wear under his clothes. Mike and Oliver enter the ballroom where they have bodybuilding. The press conference just ended, and they’re getting some photos and videos of Rob Coulson, last year’s Arnold Amateur champion, who is competing at the pro bodybuilding competition. He’s considered to have some of the best arms in bodybuilding. He’s a top contender to win. Off to the side of the stage, Mike has Oliver strip off his clothes. Mike quickly puts a light coating of oil on Oliver’s body. While Rob is hitting some poses, Oliver jumps up onto the stage from the ground, which grabs everyone’s attention, since the stage is very high. A couple whistles from the small crowd still there with photographers. Rob laughs at Oliver jumping up on stage. He hits a front double biceps shot. Oliver stands next to him and hits a front double biceps shot. A few audible gasps from the crowd. Oliver’s arms appear to be bigger than Rob’s arms. Not only that, he’s so ripped that you can see every muscle fiber in his arms, chest and completely shredded quads. Rob’s girlfriend screams for him to do his money shot, his back double biceps. So, Rob and Oliver turn around. They both hit their back double biceps shot. “Oh my God,” says Rob’s girlfriend. Oliver has him beat on his best shot, with bigger, more peaked arms, larger and more ripped shoulders and a much wider back. Oliver’s hamstrings are also bigger. One of the photographers says, “Who’s this kid? He’s destroying Rob.” Mike steps up and says, “His name is Oliver. He’s 20 years old and just getting into bodybuilding.” The photographer screams, “20? Are you fucking kidding me?” Someone screams, “Hit a most muscular shot!” Rob and Oliver turn around and both hit a most muscular crab shot. Oliver is matching Rob’s size from a muscular standpoint, but he’s much more shredded. Oliver’s chest is completely ripped with monster shoulders and traps. The biceps veins are nearly exploding they’re so thick. Abs are like steel armor. Oliver’s quad sweep is also wider and denser than Rob’s. “This kid could have won the show,” exclaims one photographer. Rob gets angry and walks off the stage. Mike gives the photographers contact info for Oliver. Oliver jumps off the stage and puts on a pair of shorts over his posing trunks. They exit the ballroom and go to the main wing of the expo where they have all the other events and activities. About as soon as they enter the expo hall, a bunch of people come over wanting pictures with Oliver. He’s shirtless and wearing shorts that show off his massive quads and calves. They make their way to the Animal Cage where they are starting a bench press competition. Mike registered Oliver for the contest. There are 10 competitors, most are big and fat, but powerful men. Oliver weighs in at 245 lbs and is easily the leanest competitor. The biggest and strongest competitor, nicknamed Grizzly, is 6’5” tall and weighs in at 330 lbs. Grizzly says, “Boy. You a bodybuilder? Cause you gonna git hurt here. This ain’t no play time in the gym. This is big boy weight.” He laughs. Everyone submits on written cards what their first lift will be. The announcer gets on the microphone. The announcer says, “Okay folks. We’re getting started with 405 pounds on the bar, and we’ll finish with Grizzly with 675 pounds…wait…there must be a mistake here. Who is Oliver? Oliver raises his hand and says, “Me sir!” Someone in the crowd says, “Holy shit! He’s jacked as fuck!” Announcer asks, “You’re opening with 685 pounds? Is that a mistake? Because no one has ever opened with that much weight, and honestly son, you don’t look like you could do something like that.” Oliver responds, “Yes sir. 685 pounds is my opener. I want to make sure I get the lift, so I can go heavier.” Announcer asks, “So this is easy for you?” Oliver says, “Yes sir.” Grizzly yells, “I smell bullshit! No one can beat me in bench press, especially not some bodybuilder!” The competition starts, and Oliver warms up. They get to Grizzly, and he presses 675 lbs, with a huge effort. The staff loads 685 lbs onto the bar. Oliver lays down on the bench. The crowd quiets down to watch. Oliver grabs the bar. Announcer asks, “You want a liftoff young man?” Oliver says, “No sir. I got this.” Oliver lifts the bar off the rack. He slowly lowers the weight and touches his chest, holding the bar there.” Judge says, “Press!” Oliver pushes the bar back with incredible power. It flies up. Judge says, “Rack it!” Oliver puts the bar back. He gets a good lift signal. He jumps up and hits a most muscular shot. He’s sweating profusely. The crowd goes wild. Grizzly throws down his belt. Everyone submits their lifts. Oliver is doing 720 lbs. Grizzly finds out and puts 725 lbs for himself. Fifteen minutes later, 720 lbs is loaded onto the bar. Oliver sits on the end of the bench and flexes his pecs several times. His chest is shredded and sweaty. Mike comes over to give him a liftoff. Mike says, “You got this Olly. Let’s put this guy out of his misery.” Oliver screams, “Hell yeah!” He lays on the bench. He nods his head for Mike to give the liftoff. He lowers the bar and holds it on his chest. Judge says, “Press!” Oliver screams and presses the bar extremely hard. The bar goes up steadily and fairly quickly. Judge says, “Rack!” Oliver racks it and get a good lift signal. He jumps up and hits a double biceps shot. Someone from the crowd, “Jesus, this kid is an animal.” Grizzly is up. 725 lbs is loaded onto the bar. He sits down. He sniffs a bottle of smelling salts, throws it aside and screams. He lays down. His spotter gives him a liftoff. He lowers the bar and stops on his chest. Judge says, “Press!” Grizzy screams and pushes. The bar goes up very slowly. It gets stuck halfway up, but after a couple seconds, he screams and is able to slowly push through to a lockout. Judge says, “Rack!” Grizzy racks it. He sits up, and his nose is bleeding. He stands up and then stumbles. A couple staff help him to his chair. Everyone is submitting final lifts, except for Grizzy. He’s going to stick with his last lift of 725 lbs. Mike says, “That last lift went up really fast. I don’t know…you think you could do 750, or is that just too much?” Oliver thinks for a couple seconds and says, “Fuck it! Let’s do it!” After 15 minutes, it’s Oliver’s turn. 750 lbs is loaded onto the bar. Announcer says, “This kid has already broken records today. Now he’s going for 750 lbs, more than three times his bodyweight. He’s completely ripped up, and he’s only 20 years old!” The crowd cheers. Oliver sits on the bench, flexing his chest and arms. He lays back and screams. Mike comes over and grabs the bar. Oliver nods his head for the liftoff. Mike does it and steps back. Oliver takes a deep breath and lowers the bar. He touches and holds the bar on his chest. The judge waits an extra seconds before giving the signal. Judge says, “Press!” Oliver screams and starts pressing. His chest is pumped and shredded. His triceps are popping out and ripped. The bar slowly goes up. It slows down near the halfway mark. Oliver screams again using his chest power to press the bar high and higher, until he finally locks out. Judge says, “Rack!” Oliver racks the bar. The good lift signal is given. The crowd erupts in cheers. Grizzly walks out. Oliver hits a huge most muscular shot. Mike comes over and gives Oliver a hug. Mike says, “Bro! I’m blown away!” “Me too man! I can’t believe it! It’s like nothing can stop me!” Mike says, “Maybe nothing or no one can!” They exit the cage and go onto the next event. Mike says, “I think you’re going to like this next event. It will really test your strength like nothing has before.” Mike and Oliver enter the Bending Arena. Oliver’s eyes light up. There are all kinds of things to bend here, including nails, thick bolts, tools, including wrenches. They have steel bars to bend like on World’s Strongest Man from the 1980s and 1990s. A big sign says… “WHOEVER BENDS THE THICKEST BAR TODAY, WINS A FREE SET OF CAPTAINS OF CRUSH GRIPPERS!” Mike and Oliver go over to the steel bars. Jake is managing the challenge. “Wow, you must be a bodybuilder,” says Jake. Oliver says, “Well, I…” “He’s really a power bodybuilder,” says Mike. Oliver smiles. Jake says, “Well, you’re in the right spot if you want to test you strength.” Oliver asks, “What are the Captains of Crush Grippers?” Jake breaks out all the grippers ranging from Captains of Crush (CoC) 1 all the way to a 4. Jake says, “They range in strength from level 1 to level 4. Only 5 people in the world have ever closed a number 4.” Oliver says, “I have to try that!” Jake says, “Okay big boy, let’s start you off with a number 2. Most bodybuilders can barely do that.” Oliver takes the number 2 and puts it in his hand. He closes it, and his forearms pump up. He closes it for reps. After he hits 20 reps, Jake stops him. Oliver says, “I’ll take the number 4 now.” “I don’t think you should jump up to it right away, but here you go.” A crowd starts to form to watch Oliver. Jake records video using his phone. Oliver places the number 4 gripper in his hand. He takes a couple deep breaths, screams and squeezes as hard as he can. He closes it. Jake screams, “Holy shit!” Oliver lets it open and closes it again. And again. Veins are snaking in his forearm pumping it close to 19 inches thick. And then he holds the gripper closed for 20 seconds. Jake screams, “Yeah! What a pump!” Mike says, “Bro, your forearm is massive!” Oliver flexes his forearm for the camera. Oliver says, “Let me bend some bars.” Jake says, “Normally I’d start someone with a 1/2” thick steel bar to try, but you’re much stronger than the guys that usually come over here. Here’s a 5/8” thick steel bar that’s 4 feet long.” Oliver grabs the bar and holds it at either end. Jake continues, “So before you try anything, let me tell you how to properly bend…Wait!” Oliver starts pushing on the bar, trying to bend it. Jake says, “Hold on man! You can’t bend it in front of your body like that. It’s impossible!” A guy from the crowd says, “Have you ever seen anyone so ripped?” Oliver screams. His chest and abdominals are shredded. His biceps are popping. Another scream and slowly the bar starts to bend. Jake says, “No way!” Oliver continues pouring his strength into bending the bar in front of his body. After a few seconds, the ends of the bar touch. Oliver drops the bar and hits a double biceps shot, screaming, “Yeah!” Jake says, “Holy shit! I did not expect that.” Mike asks, “What’s your thickest bar?” Jake responds, “Well, it’s called the Ultimate, and it’s not really meant to be bent.” Mike asks, “What do you mean?” Jake says, “Well, it’s 1 and 1/4 inch thick cold-rolled steel at 5 feet in long. It’s believed that no one can really bend it. That’s why there is a cash prize for anyone that can bend it just with their upper body and make the ends touch, wins $100,000. That’s just impossible.” Oliver’s eyes get big and says, “I gotta fuckin’ try it!” Jake says, “You can try it, but no one has even come close to making the tiniest of bends in the bar. It’s still perfectly straight.” Mike asks, “How quickly would Oliver get the money if he does it?” “It’s an instant bank transfer,” says Jake. Jake gives Oliver the bar and a thick bath towel. Jake says, “This time you won’t be able to bend it in front of your body.” “So, what do I do?” Jake responds, “Fold the towel and put it on your head for protection. Put the bar on top, using your head as a leverage point. Bend the bar down as far as you can, then put it behind your neck and bend it until the ends touch.” Oliver folds the towel and puts it on his head. The crowd is getting really big now. Oliver places the bar on top and grabs the ends of the bar with his hands. Mike screams, “You can do this Olly! No one has ever bent a bar this thick! You’re gonna do it in front of all these people, not as some fat strongman, but as a ripped-up power bodybuilder. No one has ever seen anything like this before! You can do it!” Oliver takes a couple deep breaths and screams. He pulls down hard, but the bar doesn’t budge. He takes a break. Jake says, “I told you bro. You can’t do it. No one can.” Oliver goes nuts and screams and pulls with everything he has. His biceps explode into huge ripped peaks. His lats flare out wider than ever. His abdominals contract as hard as they ever have before. At first, nothing happens, but after a few seconds, a squeal comes from the bar. The bar starts to slowly bend under Oliver’s strength. His lats are contracting so hard, you can see every muscle fiber. Oliver screams again pouring all of his strength into the task of bending the thickest steel ever bent by a human. The crowd starts talking… “Oh my God!” “He’s doing it!” “He’s fuckin’ ripped up!” “That’s just raw strength!” Jake is in complete awe of Oliver’s ripped strength. Jake says, “He’s bending the unbendable!” Oliver bends the bar halfway and stops for a second. He screams again and continues bending the bar until it’s about a 90-degree angle and can’t bend further on his head. He’s sweating profusely. He drops the bar behind his neck. Using his chest, he tries to crush the bar in, but it’s still a bit too wide for that. Oliver tilts the bar behind his neck, so that the end in his left hand is now down by his hip. The end of the bar in his right hand is above his head. Bracing the left end against his body, Oliver screams and pulls down on the bar with his right hand. Someone from the crowd says, “Jesus Christ! Look at the kid’s arm!” Oliver’s 22-inch right biceps explodes into ripped glory pulling the bar down, dripping sweat. His abs contracting hard to stabilize his core. Oliver screams again! The impossible to bend cold-rolled steel tries to resist, but Oliver’s biceps is just too strong, bending it more and more. “Yeah,” screams Oliver as he dominates the bar. Now the bar is at a 45-degree angle. Oliver centers the bar behind his neck, with his arms on both ends of the bar. Oliver screams and pushes the ends of the bar towards each other. His chest and abs are ripped to the bone. His chest is heaving and pumping blood as massive amounts of strength pass through to his hands. Oliver screaming and pushing slowly presses the ends of the bar towards each other. After several seconds, the ends touch. Jake, in utter disbelief, faints for a moment. Oliver lifts the bar from his neck and throws it to the ground. He hits a huge most muscular shot as the crowd cheers and then a huge front double biceps shot. Mike then hugs him, and Oliver hugs him back. People in the crowd come up to congratulate him and get pictures. Finally, Oliver gets a bank transfer from Jake’s company. Mike says, “It looks like we just have one more stop.” Oliver responds, “Arm wrestling!” Mike nods his head. Oliver adds, “You think Brock’s Dad, Titus, will accept my challenge?” “Well, he is the Super Heavyweight World Champion, so he may not take you too seriously. You’re only 20 years old, and arm wrestlers always think they can destroy bodybuilders. But, you do have some money that you can put up to sweeten the pot.” Oliver says, “Yes!” On the way to the arm wrestling competition, they stop to get some burgers and refuel. Oliver eats six double cheeseburgers and six orders of fries. They finally arrive at the arm wrestling contest. It doesn’t start for another 15 minutes. Mike speaks with the promoters to try to get Titus to take on Oliver. At first the promoters said no because Oliver hasn’t competed and earned a spot to challenge Titus. When Mike offered Titus $20,000 to take the match, he accepted. Announcer says, “It’s time to get started! Up first is a best of three supermatch between your current super heavyweight world champion, 6’3” tall, 350 pounds of solid mass, with 23-inch arms and 20-inch forearms…Titus!” Cheers from the crowd as Titus walks out. The announcer continues, “His challenger is a complete unknown but considers himself a power bodybuilder, 6’ tall weighing 245 pounds of completely ripped muscle, 22-inch arms and only 20 years old…Oliver! The usual audible gasps form the audience. Brock looks up in shock. Brock says, “No way! Oliver is challenging my Dad? Jesus, he really packed on some size.” Titus and Oliver both come to the table. Oliver asks for his arms to be measured since it’s been a couple months, and he still has a pump from the bar bending. The referee measures Oliver’s arm. The referee says, “It looks to be…22 and 3/4…wait…23 inches…matching Titus!” “Looks so much bigger than Titus,” says one guy from the crowd. His friend responds, “Yeah, cause he’s got a huge peak and the muscle is completely ripped up.” Oliver smiles. The referee measures his forearm. “The bodybuilder’s forearm is 19.5”, just under Titus!” Oliver smiles and nods his head. Titus says, “You think cause you have a little muscle you can challenge me? Kid, I have over 20 years of experience in arm wrestling. I know every technique and trick in the book, and I haven’t lost a match in over three years! No way you can beat this arm!” With that, Titus flexes his right arm to cheers in the crowd. Oliver responds, “I’m tired of your son bullying kids, so I’m going to teach you a lesson. I don’t need any arm wrestling techniques or tricks. I’m gonna beat you with raw strength!” Oliver hits a double biceps shot, totally ripped with a light coat of sweat for shine. The crowd starts talking… “That kid’s arms are bigger than Titus’!” “Have you ever seen someone so shredded?” Titus gets mad and slams his elbow on the pad. Oliver grips up and squeezes Titus’ hand. Titus tries to pull out, but Oliver’s grip is too strong. Finally, Oliver lets Titus slip out and re-grip. The referee starts the match. “Ready, Go!” Titus hits hard, but Oliver holds him. Titus hits harder and pulls Oliver’s arm down just a bit off center. The crowd doesn’t know how to react. “That kid is holding back Titus!” Titus screams and goes all out trying to pull down Oliver. Oliver does go down a little until Oliver screams and starts pulling with everything he has. He stops Titus and starts to pull Titus back up. Oliver’s arm is incredibly shredded showing every muscle fiber working. His chest is ripped and sweat is pouring off his body. “Yeah,” Oliver screams. Oliver gets their arms back to the center starting position. Brock screams, “Arm Lock! Dad, use your Arm Lock!” Titus shifts his weight and his arm position, essentially locking his arm into place, making it very difficult, if not impossible to move. Oliver is confused. He’s not sure how Titus is blocking him from pulling his arm down. “Yes, just hold him there, Dad! He’ll burn out soon,” screams Brock. Another grunt from Oliver, but he can’t move Titus. Titus smiles. “No one has ever broken through my Arm Lock, kid. Not even the strongest arm wrestlers,” says Titus. “I’m a power bodybuilder, and this ripped muscle is gonna bust through your Arm Lock.” Titus laughs. Oliver screams and pulls harder. His biceps seeming to pump larger, and his forearms expand with corded muscle trying to push through his paper-thin skin. Titus’ smile goes away. “This kid has some serious muscle,” says someone from the crowd. “Yeah, his biceps are really peaked, but I don’t know if he has the strength to pull through Titus’ Arm Lock. It’s impossible,” says his friend. Oliver hears this talk from the crowd. It gets him very excited. Oliver screams again and pulls with everything he has. His chest is shredded and pouring on the strength that can bench press well over 700 lbs. His biceps and forearms that curl nearly 300 lbs are increasing the pressure that no one else can create. “You can do it,” screams Mike. “This kid…I’ve never seen so much ripped muscle,” exclaims someone from the crowd. Oliver very slightly moves Titus’ arm. Titus’ eyes are wide, and his head is shaking with the effort to contain Oliver. “Fuck yeah,” screams Oliver. “Impossible,” says Brock. Oliver looks over at Brock. Brock is in shock. The crowd starts talking… “The kid bodybuilder…he’s doin’ it!” “That’s pure, raw strength!” Titus screams, trying to stop Oliver, and he does for a second, but the kid bodybuilder’s strength is building. His ripped muscle contracting harder. Oliver starts pushing through the Arm Lock with every muscle group engaged including his back with crazy striations, his biceps with impossible peaks and his chest just ripped to the bone with massive forearms at the lead. As Oliver is pulling Titus’ arm down, closer and closer to the pin pad, Titus does a King’s Move, dropping his body below the table and stretching out the arm to make it impossible to pin due to the angle of the arm. Brock screams, “Good move, Dad! Hold him there and burn him out!” Oliver continues pulling Titus’ arm, but it’s completely stuck. It’s even harder than his Arm Lock. After 10 seconds of pulling, Oliver isn’t making progress. Mike screams, “Olly, do a shoulder press! Stand up tall and use your shoulder and bodyweight to press his arm down!” Oliver stands up tall and starts pushing with just his triceps. He doesn’t lean over and use his shoulder and bodyweight. Titus is smiling. He’s in a good position. The King’s Move doesn’t use much energy. It’s all about leverage, angles and the arm’s natural straight arm end range. “No one can push through my King’s Move, kid! It’s ten times harder than my Arm Lock!” Oliver grunts loud and pushes hard. Titus’ arm is like hardened steel. It’s just not moving. “You can’t do it, Olly!,” screams Brock. Oliver screams and starts pushing with everything he has! His triceps shows every cross-striation. His shoulders are shredded. His biceps vein looks massive and mean. His chest is heaving with ripped abs and sweat pouring off him. Titus’ smile turns to gritting teeth. “If this kid’s ripped muscle pushes through Titus’ King’s Move, it will send me over the edge,” whispers a guy to his friend right near the table. This excites Oliver even more, somehow allowing him to push even harder. His ripped triceps start to very slowly move Titus’ arm towards the pin pad. Oliver looks down at the guy watching and sees his eyes getting bigger and the guy says, “Oh my God! He’s doing it!” The guy starts shaking. Oliver screams again, pushing more! His triceps is exploding. The crowd starts speaking again… “This kid’s strength is insane! He’s doing it with just his triceps!” “This kid bodybuilder is beating the strongest arm wrestler at his own sport!” “No! You can’t!” mutters Titus. A cracking sound starts to come from Titus’ arm. “Stop! You’re going to break his arm,” screams Brock. Oliver backs off. “Want to give up, so I can spare your arm,” Oliver asks. “I’ll never give up!” “Good, cause I wanna see how strong these triceps are,” yells Oliver. Oliver looks directly at Brock. He screams and pushes again. His ripped triceps is monstrously huge. Titus’ arm moves slightly. It’s getting stuck as the bones near the elbow start touching. Titus’ arm is nearly at the pin pad, but now it’s completely stuck. “You think he could break his arm,” someone asks from the crowd. “No man. I don’t think it’s possible,” replies another. Oliver gets excited and goes nuts! He screams, and his triceps responds somehow pushing harder. “Yeah, I’m gonna do it,” screams Oliver. Titus starts to scream. His arm starts to slightly bend under the strength of Oliver’s triceps. Oliver looks at Brock. Brock has his hands on his head in disbelief. Oliver screams again pushing as hard as he can with just his triceps strength. About three seconds later, a grinding sound and then…SNAP! Oliver breaks Titus’ arm. Titus’ hand hits the pin pad. He pulls his arm away grabbing it for support. Oliver slams his fist down onto the pad, crushing the pad and bending one of the thick steel supports holding the table up. He then hits a double biceps shot at Titus. Incredibly ripped biceps explode to over 24 inches with high peaks. Lats flare out like wings. Abs shredded. Sweat pouring off his body giving it a beautiful shine. Cheers and shock coming from the crowd. Mike gives Oliver a hug. “I knew you could do it, Olly,” says Mike. “I couldn’t have done all this without you, Big Mike,” responds Oliver. “Maybe you should call me, Little Mike, from now on.” They laugh. Brock runs over to his Dad and takes him away for medical attention. Someone from the crowd says, “Bro, you broke the table.” Oliver looks at it. There are four steel support bars that run from the base on the floor to the tabletop. One of them is bent inwards. Oliver bends down and grabs the bent support bar at the middle of the bend with his left hand. His other hand is on the tabletop for support. Oliver grunts and starts pulling. His biceps and forearm explode as does his lat. Very slowly, Oliver starts bending the support bar straight. “No way! This kid is bending fucking steel,” says one guy from the crowd. “Jesus, his arm strength is off the scale!” Oliver completely straightens the support bar. He then hits another double biceps shot at the crowd. The crowd cheers. The crowd comes over to Oliver for pictures and autographs. Oliver looks at Mike. “Let’s keep doing this shit! I want to see how strong I can get!” Mike responds, “Hell yeah kid!” THE END
  18. AUTHOR’S NOTE: Welcome to PHOLUS REBORN – the novel. You may remember my short story by the same name. To me, that story always read like the outline of a novel, all “tell” and no “show,” so I finally got around to expanding it. The following is a excerpt from the new novel, avail as an ebook and paperback on Amazon – CLICK HERE. SOME EXPOSITION: Red has ingested a magic potion (Dionysian wine) that has been slowly transforming him into the centaur, Pholus, granting him an amazing body, irresistible pheromones, and an incredible “horse” cock. Red’s housemate and lifelong friend, the straight boy AppleJack, creates the “Pholus Reborn” brand, an online porn empire , an immediate success. Red/ Pholus has recently discovered the ability to create other centaurs and sets about establishing a herd. He has already recruited the beautiful twunk rodeo rider, Pokey Dakota and the porn star Colt Cavalier. After his transformation into a centaur, Pokey’s hair turned bright blue. *********************************************************** The Hipster Barber Shop, Dunn’s, was more-or-less on the way to the gym, so it wasn’t hard to steer Pokey in. “This is my guy,” I told him. “He’ll clean you up.” “I like the smell of this place,” Pokey said as we went inside. “The leather ‘n such – I reckon it’s sorta manly.” There were a few more people in the shop than when I’d been here last, a second cutter in the back corner chair – another hipster with a beautiful beard and a top-knot smoking a cigar. He and his client were deep in it, chatting away, completely ignoring the rest of us. Dunn had just finished at the register so was there to greet us. “Pholus!” he exclaimed, unconsciously touching his package, bowing slightly. Clad only in a leather vest and two heavy silver necklaces, leather gauntlet on one wrist and assorted beads and bracelets on the other, the same black jeans and sneakers as the last time I’d seen him. Once again his beard and hair were manicured to perfection. “I’m honored! What can I do to be of service?” “Hello, Dunn,” I said, smiling, hitting him with a wave of pheromones. (Pokey reacted dramatically, leaning into me and whispering, “Go, Captain Overkill,” as he teasingly poked me in the side. I barely glanced at him.) “Something I hope you can help me with,” I said to Dunn, pulling the baseball cap from Pokey’s head, releasing his cascade of uncontrolled azure locks. “This.” “Oh, my!” Dunn said. I smirked. “Yeah… it needs…” “Some style,” Dunn finished, studying it academically. “I mean, the color’s gorgeous – whoever did it did a spectacular job.” He put his hands through Pokey’s thick hair, examining it – I hope Pokey found it as erotic as I did. From the smell coming off him, he did. “I mean, it’s got highlights, lowlights, beautiful tone… why didn’t they cut it? What’s wrong with you kids today?” He looked Pokey straight in the face. “Fear not, I can make your boy beautiful,” Dunn said, glancing from him to me. “He’s not my boy,” I said, handing Pokey his hat. “But he is part of my tribe, so he needs to look his best.” “Got it.” He turned to Pokey. “First, let’s go wash this good. It looks like there’s some glitter or something in it.” Pokey laughed and cast a glance at me before heading back with Dunn. Dunn turned to me as they were walking to the sink and I made a motion to my beard and mouthed, obviously, “LOSE THIS!” Dunn frowned and turned away, back to his project. One guy sat in the waiting area, clearly perturbed that I’d cut him in line – I could read it coming from him. Only in entitled hipster barber shops would a guy think to give attitude to me, a six-five, two-hundred eighty-five pound musclebeast, but that was the world in which we lived. “Some of us were in line,” he said. I smiled and hit him with a heavy wave of pheromones. “Thank you for letting us in,” I said, gently touching the head of my cock through my tight gym shorts – they kept no secrets. “Your generosity pleases me.” “Um…” He sniffed the air curiously. “You’re welcome?” he said, crossing his legs in an attempt to hide his sudden, swollen erection. “I mean, anything.” He bowed his head in shame, but couldn’t keep himself from looking at me, now that I’d made him infatuated. “Anything for you.” I smiled – weak-willed mortals. “Exactly,” I said, winking. “Anything for me.” Then I moved to the far side of the waiting area, where I could keep an eye on Pokey, but have some privacy while I texted AppleJack. ************************************************************************ @me: You still mad? @applejack: I’m not mad. Not exactly. I guess I’m disappointed. We’ve been friends our whole entire lives, Red. I can’t believe you’d think you had any better ally. @me: There’s nobody I’d rather have at my side. you know that! @applejack: Yeah, except you won’t make me a centaur. @me: C’mon, AppleJack. That’s not fair. It’s not that I don’t want you to be. @applejack: You make that dimwit kid a centaur! You make some porn star you just met a centaur! But your oldest friend… who, coincidentally, CREATED your whole brand… no, he gets to stay human @me: To make you a centaur, we have to have sex. @applejack:… @applejack:… @applejack: Like, what do you mean? What specifically? You don’t have to FUCK me, do you? Is that why you only pick porn stars and rodeo clowns? @me: Haha @applejack: I mean, I think I could do anything OTHER than that. You know, get super-high… @me: Actually, it’s just the opposite. You’d have to fuck ME. @applejack:… @applejack:… @applejack: I think I could do that. @me: hahaha @me: Except… It’s not just mechanical. We have to be “into” it for the mojo to work. @applejack: I think you owe it to me to try. @me: But what if it turns you queer, Applejack? Have you considered that? @applejack: So what great things am I doing as a straight man? When was the last time I even dated someone? College? Women don’t want me, Red. They never have. so what if it turned me queer? to have a cock like that… @me:… @me:… @me: Okay. We’ll try. But I can’t make any guarantees. @applejack: Thank you, Red. This means everything to me. @applejack:… @applejack:… @applejack: No pressure. @me: We’ll talk when I get home. Find some good flower. something that will fuck me up @applejack: I have the perfect thing. TTYL. Wear something sexy. Haha. @me: Hahaha ******************************************************************** His words echoed through my mind. “Why not me?” In all the years I’d known AppleJack, I think we’ve had two fights – and I’m not even sure I’d call them “fights,” maybe arguments at best – and even those were from our early days of sharing a living space, when we were both learning our boundaries. The closest we got to arguing now was sarcasm – we’re so codependent on each other that we might as well be married. I couldn’t even imagine a time when we wouldn’t be together – he called it my “Golden Girls” fantasy. “Why not me?” I’d never seen him so genuinely hurt like that – so raw. And he’d been right – I’d done nothing to deserve what was happening to me. I’d won the lottery. I’d drunk a magic potion, not gotten Odysseus back to Ithaca. What right did I have to deny anyone? It just kept coming back to the ugly truth: I didn’t find AppleJack attractive. His horse-face and his dumpy body – I think the reason we’d remained friends as long as we had was because I wasn’t attracted to him. Lusting for AppleJack would never be a chapter title in the book of my life. That said, wasn’t I supposed to be some rutty-sex demigod? Shouldn’t I have been, like, “Yeah, cock!” and just… found the inner drive? “Why not me?” Because I love you, but I have no lust for you. But I could never say that to him. Because I loved him – and I didn’t want to lose him. ********************************************************************** I looked up and noticed that Pokey and Dunn had disappeared – they’d been nearly finished so it didn’t take a genius to figure out why they’d gone to the office, or the back room, or wherever the hell they were. Pokey was no doubt “letting” Dunn suck his cock – that was what Pokey considered tipping. I was actually sorry I wasn’t getting to watch, frankly – Dunn could suck a good cock. I’d almost gotten distracted by my phone again when they emerged, Pokey leading the way, jubilant. Dunn had done a hard fade on the sides and back of his head and pulled the rest of Pokey’s blue cascade back into a ponytail. He looked like a European Soccer player or a super-hip lower east side douchebag. It wasn’t just the haircut – Pokey’d had his septum pierced, and a big silver hoop hung from the base of his nose, a small blue bead decorating it. His ears, too, matching hoops and beads. “Well, look at you!” I said, smiling. “Look at me!” he said, spinning and posing. “Ain’t I gorgeous?” Dunn, a dizzy smile on his face – and if I didn’t miss my guess, the taste of cum in his mouth – opened the cash register, removed all the money and offered it to Pokey. “Your tip,” he said, tears of joy in his eyes. “I know cutters don’t usually tip the clients, but it was such an honor to work with you. I want you to have it.” “Aw,” Pokey said, reaching for the money. “You’re so sweet…” I admonished him. “Pokey,” I said quietly, “not appropriate. Release him.” “No, it’s okay,” Dunn said to me, as if explaining. “I want him to have it!” “No you don’t. He’s doing something to you to make you think that.” “Red!” “Let him go, Pokey…” There was a moment – but with a dramatic sigh, Pokey obeyed, and I could almost feel the reins lifted from Dunn. “Spoil sport…” he mumbled. “You got a beautiful haircut, boy. Be grateful.” I looked at Dunn, who seemed to be wondering why he was standing there with the contents of the till in his hands. I hit him with my own wave of pheromones. “Put the cash back in the drawer, Dunn,” I said to him. “Forget it happened.” Dunn whispered, “Yes, my Lord,” as he swiftly obeyed, his erection renewed in his tight black jeans. “Ohhhh,” Pokey said, knowingly, “I reckon I get it now! You want him for yourself…” I chuckled. “Not just for me,” I said. “For US… get me?” Pokey hadn’t put two and two together – I needed to be more obvious. “A Dun IS a kind of horse,” I said quietly. Pokey got it. “I reckon it is,” he said, nodding while considering. “That’s about as right as rain. So… you gonna make him an offer or do you reckon we should talk to Cavalier first?” Talk to Cavalier first? I thought. Why? I didn’t need his permission to create centaurs. I mean, I knew we’d had this “Herd Master” thing we’d thrown around during sex, but was that serious? Did that take away my power to make my own choices? But before I’d had the chance to voice my thoughts to Pokey, Dunn interrupted. “Make me an offer?” Dunn asked, suddenly curious. “You like his hair that much?” He reached over and began stroking Pokey’s head affectionately. Pokey, like a good pony, leaned into it. “I do,” I said, smiling. “You’re a helluva groomsman.” He laughed. “Always taming the beasts,” he said, playing with Pokey’s ponytail, pulling on it gently until Pokey leaned his head back. “And so you guys want me to be a centaur? That’s cool.” “How’d you figure that?” Pokey asked, pulling slightly away from Dunn, but still keeping an arm around him. Dunn shrugged. “I looked you up after you did your voodoo on me last time,” he said to me. “You’re Pholus – reborn! – I read your story on your website, magic potion, transformation. It’s super-hot. And then you and the kid here show up today and he’s got blue hair – no shit blue hair. It’s totally real – it’s not dyed, it’s not affected – it’s porous and healthy… and blue. And then he hits me with the same smell-thing that you had – pheromones? – and I realized it was all true. You’re magical beings – you’re no-shit Centaurs.” He opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. “So make me an offer! Transform me! What do we gotta do?” ************************************************************************ Turned out there was a massage table in the back room of the barber shop where Dunn did piercings. It was a tiny room, barely enough space for the three of us – I’d tried to send Pokey off to the gym, but he’d insisted on watching this time – the same smell of leather and old smoke that hung comfortably throughout the shop was here, mixed with alcohol (shaken, not stirred) and nervous sweat. As soon as he’d shut the door, Dunn and I began kissing. He was playful, skilled – I’d never kissed a man with a pierced septum before, the weight of the jewelry on my lip was sexy. I sat on the edge of the table and he pushed his way between my legs while we made out. I unbuckled his belt and opened his jeans. Commando, which pleased me, Dunn’s impressively thick cock sported a PA, silver and heavy – he shaved his balls, but his bush was groomed very naturally. Otherwise, I could see his trail leading up under his leather vest with the same black with flecks of gray that decorated his chest, his upper pecs hidden by his beard. “Lemme eat you out,” he mumbled. “I’m dying to get a taste… dying… let me pleasure you before I fuck you.” He slowly dropped to his knees, sliding down my muscular torso, stopping briefly to suck my nipple (“We’re gonna pierce these,” he whispered.), then slid his tongue and the tip of his nose down the center groove of my abs. But instead of continuing to my cock, he spun me round so I faced the table and then yanked my shorts down, exposing my big, muscular ass, but trapping my cock. He spread my cheeks wide, breathed in deeply, losing himself in my scent, and then got to work, lovingly – skillfully – pleasing my hole. I leaned on my forearms, feeling my cock get hard somewhere out of my reach. I’d never experienced someone as talented as Dunn eat me out. I mean, I’d met guys who were into rimming and ass-play, enthusiasts, but they were weekend warriors compared to Dunn! Even Cavalier, with all his professional experience, couldn’t evoke the feelings I was having now – this was a man born to eat ass! I was starting to believe he was going to give me an oral anal-orgasm. An oral analgasm. My inability to access my own cock was killing me, adding to the excruciating pleasure. And there was Pokey, as predictable as a porn plot, climbing up on the head of the table, pulling his big, hard cock out of his shorts and slapping me in the face with it until I took it in my mouth. “I thought you were gonna watch,” I said, allowing the whole of his plum-sized glans in my mouth, tasting the salty-sweetness of his pre-cum. “I am watching,” he responded, forcing me to take more. Dunn had me so open and sloppy wet that when he dropped the heft of his PA-enhanced thickness into my hole, it just slammed against my prostate in big, solid reverberations, a weighted log pounding into me. He slapped my ass cheek. “You like that, demigod?” he asked roughly. “Say yes.” I pulled my mouth off Pokey’s cock. “Yes,” I said, breathing heavily. “Good,” he growled in my ear. “Suck blueboy’s cock and get ready for the best mortal fuck you’ll ever have.” He wasn’t just talking. Cavalier may have been a professional, but his fuck had been all-business, a bit of “these are my standard moves and now it’s your turn with them” – I mean, I’d enjoyed myself, but it was nothing compared to the fucking I was getting from Dunn. Here was a guy who wasn’t only skilled, he was passionate – he loved the act. And Dunn was clearly experienced. A young top could learn a lot from him – I’d hoped Pokey was truly paying attention. I knew I was. “You ready for my cum, demigod?” he asked. “You ready for MY offering?” “Give it to me,” I said, removing my mouth from Pokey’s cock and masturbating it. “It’s the price of apotheosis!” He paid that price in full. The energy was so great, even Pokey shot his load, filling me from both ends with my favorite filling. I was curious if Pokey could feel the transfer of energy that changed Dunn from human to beast. From the way Dunn was reacting inside me, he could definitely feel something – our bond was forming. “It’s happening,” he said, slapping my ass with both hands. “Oh fuck, Pholus, this is incredible!” Pokey laughed. “I reckon the incredible’s just starting,” he said. “Look at your body!” Dunn hadn’t been in any kind of real shape – he’d moved with the grace of someone who’d known some sort of athletics at some point in time in his life, but he clearly had no regular gym routine now. He was someone you could hang clothes off of, though, and he looked like a model with his slick hair, his massive black beard, and all that silver jewelry. He was the kind of guy you’d look at and say, “Man, with a body, he could be unstoppable!” Well, now he was unstoppable. Like Pokey, he hadn’t gained much muscle mass – he retained his leanness, his lanky build – but now he was more like a swimmer or a Greek statue, ripped, tight, every striation visible, every muscle sculpted to perfection. He opened his vest and revealed his abs to us, flat and smooth, again, not an ounce of fat, but hairy and tempting, eight-pack or not. His cock – I’d used the word “log” to describe it earlier, but now it actually was, thick and heavy, the foreskin holding on as best it could. The PA seemed small now compared to how it appeared before. We all watched his cock grow to its new full size, rock hard, rivaling Pokey. “Your turn,” he said to the boy, that familiar glint in his eye. Pokey smiled, stripping his shorts off as he slid down the table. “Yee-haw,” he laughed. “Show me what you got, big daddy. Let’s see how long you stay on the ride.” He ate Pokey’s ass while I ate his, losing myself in his hairy crack, his scent – I felt like I could identify any of my centaurs by smell alone, each was unique and individual. And while he fucked Pokey, I fucked him – and he was amazed at being able to take my cock. Physics be damned – we were magical beings now! We’d been loud and shameless – we’d been beasts – grunting and screaming and unapologetically fucking in the backroom of the barber shop. They could definitely hear us – they could probably smell us over the after-shave. But damn that had been a nice way to spend the morning – and Pokey’d gotten a great haircut! When we went back into the shop, nobody was there – even the other cutter had taken off. “Looks like we scared ‘em all away,” Dunn said, flexing his arms in the wall mirrors. “Damn! This is fucking awesome!” “You just wait,” Pokey said, redressed and ready to go. Dunn kissed him lovingly. “Anytime you want a good fuck, boy, you just drop in.” He patted Pokey on the ass and sent him toward the door. Then he hugged me. “How can I ever thank you for this? This incredible gift?” I winked. “Just keep my beard looking neat,” I said. He smiled. “That’s the price of immortality? I’ll pay it.” He kissed me and I could taste Pokey’s cum on his breath. “Thank you, Pholus. I’m yours forever.” I snorted. “In a thousand years, I’ll remind you you said that.” AFTERWORD: Thank you for reading! If you liked this selection, feel free to buy the whole story HERE on AMAZON
  19. It’s Friday fight night at the local illegal underground bare knuckle club, its well hidden so no issues with the police finding out. It was set up a few month ago by 24 yr old Johnny D’eath, allowing him to vent his anger and impose his dominance in the only way he knew, beating people to within an inch of there lives. Many people have been hospitalised and some even paralysed by him. No one has come close to even hurting him, the majority of the crowd turn up just to watch him slaughter the poor folk taking him on. Johnny has large advantage due to his monster 350lb frame which is covered in huge juicy unbelievably strong muscle, built up over the years through roid abuse, big eating and very heavy gym work, a recent bench press pb of 240kg for 15 reps proves he is one strong fucker!!! But……………. Following Johnny to every fight meeting and being his gym partner is his 18yr old brother Bobby. Johnny started taking Bobby to the gym with him 3 years ago as bobby wanted to be big and strong like his brother, back then Johnny was still a very respectable 230lb and was one of the strongest guys in the gym. The 2 brothers would train every day for 2 and a half hours, working a single body part each day. From early on training together Johnny knew there was something different about Bobby, even at 15 Bobby was adding some serious weight to his lifts on a regular basis. By the time his 17th birthday came along he was benching 180kg for fun, 1 rep maxing at 215kg. It was around this time that Johnny started hitting the roids big time, Bobby wanted a piece of the action too, seeing how well he had trained natural, his brother agreed to let him take them too. Back to the present day, and this really where the story begins…… So here we have Johnny on the top and Bobby on the bottom….. It’s 630pm, the two brothers have just finished having there high carb high protein meal, both meals in excess of 5000 cals, both are growing boys!!! Bobby is even more happier tonight as he will be fighting for the first time. “ Fuuuck bro can’t wait to fight tonight, I’ve been ready for ages and its finally happening” Bobby say joyfully as they start walking to the underground area. “ I feel sorry for the poor guy who has to take me on bro, what was it, 6 punch bags I’ve destroyed this past few weeks, even made a dent in that steel pillar a few times haha!!” Johnny looked at his pumped up, juiced up brother and smiled "yes bro, I can't believe how strong you gotten, I must admit I was no where near as strong as you when I was 18, I thought my genetics were awesome , but jeeez yours are on another level" Although he didn’t want to admit it, Johnny was very envious of his little bros superior size and strength gains for his age, at 18 Johnny was a athletic 150lb, at the same age is Bobby is a bulky 200lb. Bobby beamed in delight still “ yeah bro what was it I was benching for fun the other day? fuck man, 210 kilo benchpress at 18!!! Im only 30kg behind you, jeez I’ll be surpassing you soon!!!” “ Yeah that was majorly impressive , 20 reps , damn!! Surpass me, we’ll see about that soon enough!!!” Johnny replied, sounding confident, but deep down he knew his bro would begin destroying him strength wise very soon. But in a show of wanting to keep his authority for the time being, he stops, grabs bobby from behind and under the armpits and lifts bobby off the floor, Bobbys bulky weight means that johnny cant hoist him too high but its still a fair few feet of the ground. He squeeze his lats but comes up against the granite hardness of them. "Fuck my little bro has muscles of steel" Johnny exclaims, “ wow I’m impressed!!” Bobby chortles, “ hows this for impressive then…..” he begins to flare his lats which breaks his brothers grip instantly, bobby lands on his feet and turns round to face his bro “ did you look this good and feel this strong at 18 bro” For the first time ever, Johnny was beginning to feel inferior to his much smaller but insanely strong bro. "Well bob, you know what I looked like at 18! 18 yr old me would bet destroyed by you I have no fear in that" Bobby smiled cockily, “ yeah you got that right bro, would be a much closer match now I reckon!” Without warning he wraps his arms round his brothers waist and lifts him with a little ease off the ground, then puts him down “ 350lb for one!!! I’m one freaky strong 18yr old, no one is gonna beat me are they” “mmmpphhh....oh....fuuuck....mmmmph” Johnny trys to wriggle free but he cant shake free of the tremendous power and incredible unstoppable strength of his bro. “ Jeeez bro, where you been hiding that power!!!” Bobby looks at his bro, “ Well didn’t want to show my bro up to early now do i!!!” he winks dominantly at his bro. Johnny inwardly gulps hard, what has his bro turned into. Around 10 mins later they arrive at the venue, an expecting crowd already building, they walk through to the competitiors area. Both of them eye up the other fighters, all huge and built except one guy who was more a athletic build, “ good luck to him huh bro” Johhny says. " Yeah bro, he definitely wont last long, but holy shit man, some of these guys are mountains, I bet we’d destroy em all though bro haha” Bobby replies. "Of course bro, no ones beating us, let's go get changed" Johnny says Once in the changing room they take off their tops and get changed into gym shorts and barefoot. Johnnys legs were of course huge, but he looked at Bobbys and although smaller they still had some thick thick muscle piled on them. “Fuck bro, you even have thick legs now, they look solid as, remember years ago when in the changing room I impressed you by wrapping my thick legs around a chair and crushing it with my legs?" – Johnny looks at a chair in front of them both. "I bet you can't do that." The skinny athletic guy is a few metres from them, he is staring at them both but more intently at bobby. Bobby looks at his with a new found dominant look, “ bro I have legs that a full grown man would be proud of, SO bearing that in mind do you think that chair would be a match for me, but I’ll prove it anyway.........!” Bobby walks to the chair, he gives the watching skinny guy a evil look he shakes visibly, he wraps his legs round the chair and squeeze, within seconds it shatters into pieces. Johnny looks open mouthed "fuck, that shit is sick man, no time at all!” A bulge was beginning to appear in his shorts when mercifully the starter bell rang. They call the first fighting match, its Bobby versus the skinny athletic guy. Bobby walks uber confidently into the ring, the other guy too but he is looking shit scared after witnessing bobbys strength in the changing area. The match starts Bobby confidently walks around the ring eying up his visibly shaken opponent, as bobby gets closer to him, the size difference is clear for all to see, both fighters hands out boxing style, Bobby eggs the skinny guy on to make the first move, he takes the bait, he comes at him with a left hook, bobby easily dodges it and grabs his arm, he easily yank it to the side, CRACK, his shoulder shatters form the force, in the same movement bobby balls up his fist and aims a 25% strength punch to his face, breaking his nose entirely he falls on the floor. There is a audible gasp from the watching crowd at how ruthless that was, Johnny looks on, face one of joy and thoughts of “fuuuuuuuck!!” The guy stands up gingerly and scared like hell he bolts towards Bobby and lands a punch in bobbys stomach and one in the face. Bobby don’t even flinch, the skinny guy continues to pound his mid section with punches but non of them coming anywhere near close to hurting Bobby, he’s probably doing more harm to himself. Bobby just laughs at him, “ that all you got kid I’m bored “ with one shove of his arm he sends him flying into the fence. Bobby cracks his neck and knuckles and dominantly bounds over to him, fists charged, he then starts an onslaught of his own on the guys abs, using around 65% of his power bobby lay siege, each punch hitting there mark, destroying his abs with every punch, each punch came with a loud cry, left right left right he pounds for a good 2 mins, he steps back , the guy is barely conscious, his stomach is ballooned with bloody welts the size of melons. The referee takes one look at the skinny guy and instantly call it off the guy is not going to last much longer if it continues, the ref tries to hold bobby off "Ok man you got this match" Bobby looks at the judge “ get your hands of me “ he gives the death stare the ref backs away, Bobby turns and looks at his bro, he gives him a look that says, “its my time now!!!” Johnny gulps, wondering what his bro is going to do, looking at him, his big bulky body looking uber solid, ready to destroy again. Bobby walks over to the puny guy, grabs him by his neck and easily lift him high in the air, he turns in a circle to show everyone, the crowd gasp again at the young hunks power, gurgling, struggling to breath, the skinny guy hangs there. Bobby walks right over to where his brother is’ “Consider me an alpha now BOY” Bobby raises his other arm to reveal his young teen but masculine, sweaty hairy pits, the aroma oozing out of it fills his bros nostrils, Bobby stuffs the guys head in the deep crevice between his pits and lats and begins lowering his arm over the guys head like a vice starts easily crushing his head, within seconds his head caves in on itself, bobby raises his arm and lets the corpse fall on the floor. Bobby hits a most muscular pose and growls dominantly in his brothers face.
  20. QuoteTheRaven

    muscle growth Ejaaz gets Jacked Up (Finished)

    QUARY AND THE MUSCLE FAGS OF KURAI by Quote the Raven (c) JANUARY 2021 Of Quarium, all that could be shared I put forward in an ode. Chapter 1 - Desert (Sahra’) In April each year, Kurai temperatures climb to ninety degrees. They stay there and higher for half a year. - The Non-Arabs’ Guide to Kurai. A hollow concrete form in the center of the Narra al Maktoun Solar Farm 43 kilometers south of Kurai City in Kurai fills a structural role — spacing or reinforcement or something similar. The form sits invisibly amongst hundreds of acres of concrete footings and shiny black glass regiments in an otherwise barren landscape. Ejaaz Eud’laat does not know the purpose of the form, only that he has purposefully found it to shelter in its shaded interior. He swelters as he tapes reflective foil sheets to two cement openings at either end, working wall-to-wall, end-to-end, eight layers thick. The sheets block him in making it more suffocating, stifling and hot than this early July day already is. When the changes start though, the layered separation will not increase the heat, but will do the opposite and enable and protect cold. As Ejaaz endeavors at the curtaining, nerves unsteady him. They tremor his hands and intensely roil his gut. But desire pushes coveting in his veins so extreme that the rhythm of his heart pumping almost throbs aloud the needing of his efforts. He talks to himself. “You’ve done this before, Ejaaz. You’ll do this again. You can do it. You will.” When the layers of sheeting hang completed, he thinks, Get out of these clothes. Robes and keffiyeh that served his former obesity swamp off roomily and effortlessly from his coiled composition — a composition that now only strictly-dieted, intense university cricket or endurance athletics or champion swimming would have forged. He’s never done such training, though, has he. He never went for sport, fuck it, some did, but why could he never have taken to it. He does see now and feel now so palpably how worth it it would have been. He’s never put in years of those kinds of workouts — any fucking kind actually — or that disciplined, necessarily regimented, eating — The eating of the cast iron, forged iron will. He’s never cleaved himself to the half decade that would have forged this goddish muscly whippetness. Oh fuck it up, if only he had fucking done exactly that, what a jack he would have been all along, more so month by month, year by year. With the layers of sheeting and the concrete’s one-foot thickness, the space is dark now, it steams with heat. That’s too be expected — he resists the temptation to doubt how it will work. He drips with boiled sheens of fluid. The way he’s prepared the space, the change to the temperature will surely happen — won’t take long. He knows he knows that. Perspiration almost flows from his so recently chiseled jaw and rolls down his so new hard flat brown front. He takes a giant draft of ionized water. It really is the perfect environment now that it’s sealed off — what is to happen in his body will make it work — hard, foot-thick muffling and insulating walls, ultimately remote, and undiscoverable. And just how fucking remote it is, that is the key really — the ultimate reason for choosing here... oh yeah if he could be a betting man why wouldn’t he put money on that. But, fuck, he’s betting much more than money isn’t he anyway. His eyes fall to this body and he is greedy with it. It is indescribably beautiful so shredded and hard and chiseledly trim. Fuck yeah. He knows this is just the start. His eyes go also to his briefs. A snicker disrespects the member there. You’re good, baby, you really are, he thinks, I’ve been ok with you, have made you work, but really, you’re still so nothing. You’ll preen so much more, won’t you baby. Both you and muscle, when you’re both big fuck bold boys, I’ll preen you hard won’t I, fucks, you are both just part of what I’m meant for. Prior use has him to this result — improved from so pitiful, so grossly worse than average, so ignorable or really contemptible — the photo of fucking contemptible — doughy, mr full-on gigantic fat load, obese as a fucking fuck — just twenty-one days ago at 20 years old. Doses have changed him so much already haven’t they though? For sure, but changed him only because of his enduring their evil heinousness, uggghh — abiding the fucking heinous torturing violating heinousness — Allah dammit — oh well, he’s done it now — three times — but he won’t stop now — can only dream now to do it over and over and over and over and over and over again. He mouths, “I. HaVE. to.” He crouches into the wall. Remote, concrete-reduced warmth kisses the hard little sweet curvy sweat ass he has cheated himself to now. He wants it fucked right now, but thinks, Thank you. His ass is so perfectly bubbly, little, rock hard.... round. Ohh. It’s so Hard. Unnh. The location gives desolation — his torture chamber will be effectively and brutally unhearable. This jury-rigged, just-passable buffer will grow to be an ample deep freeze chamber against the outside heat, and will let cold accumulate and oh so drive the compound to work. “Fuck you,” he enunciates, knotted inside.“Fuck the fuck.” Bad language has emerged in him destroying what he was. Self-abuse, even just three doses worth, have rape-assaulted him, roughened him, made it so dirty words vulgarize the changing him — oh how they overthrow his twenty years of prissy, pussy, repressive, Arab-old-lady dictated, fucking mores. Urges ejaculate all over that fucked submissiveness, don’t they? His upper lip curls back from his teeth and his breath makes an exhaling snarl. He reaches out now and eases a vial from a cooler. “Fucker!” he spits. It is this vessel’s transforming compound that births the emerging man’s crudities. Tilting the vial, its liquid shifts between silver, green, gold, and blue. Saliva attempts to gather in his mouth, but his pouty lips crack from heat, and from both the charge and the fears. Opening it, the tube puffs a vapor cloud — a shimmering fog. “Slut,” he seethes, “I hate you,” but also he adds, “I fucking worship you, baby.” He’s so incredibly tempted to snort the Quarium, right then and there, and just have it over, just have it so that he feels...feeeEeeEeels it all here and now — euphoria, greatness, grandeur — everything. But he exerts every last tiny kernel of his too limited willpower — snorting isn’t the way. He needs what’s harder but so much more. So, instead, a syringe draws up the liquid beneath the mist. The liquid is called Quarium. “It’s go time. It is. Now is the time to go. To say go. To do it. Please! Come On. It’s go go go go go fucking go gotime to go.” The dose, Quarium loaded all behind the needle, threatens now and he points the ministration at his so alien taut trim crushingly desirable obliqued side, determined to survive and thrive, but not able to escape feeling totally in danger. He’s engaging in absolute self-deceit when he says, “This is completely safe and easy, Ejj!” What, without exaggeration, would be described as unlimited fear jarringly jitters his hand as he attempts entry and the needle jabs a slashing plunge, nothing that remotely approximates a calm, controlled pin. Nearly no part of Ejaaz’s conscious brain can register anything but anxious terror at this moment. The insertion tolerates the gross inaccuracy of his stab though and offers a still acceptable option for pushing in the dose. Just be fucking brave and do it, dammit, Ejaaz!! a shred of his will finally proffers, penetrating into the haze of his alarm. A workable command, his fingers, almost on auto-pilot, squeeze; rivulets thread continuous cold virulence into his flesh. “Yess,” he hopes to say, but more rawly what comes out is “NOOOoOOOoOoOOO!” — so emotional, so afraid at what he knows in an instant is to be intolerable excruciation. The green-silver squelches in, indifferent to any feeling — particularly the rising pulsing fear. The serum, loosened, oozes. It is irretrievable. The poison takes occupation, assumes its subject territory. Ejaaz clenches.... resistance the definition of fucking futility though. Like his prior uses, it’s possible to feel the liquid chill consuming his veins, spilling everywhere through his flesh, ignoring humanity. The blood’s additive pushes advancements depravedly into his body, pillaging, cold-raping, violating progressive landgrabs as it goes. Panic pushes Ejaaz’s stomach into his throat. Ejaaz prays if it would just spew from his mouth, oh, if only that would possibly carry this bottomless fucking fear and destruction from his body. “Oh AllAH. FUCK the great god Quarium!” he shouts. And then, because his brain is heavy already, he slurs, “You NASTY naStY nassttyt..... fu..fu...fuck-devil...” From the wall, he lists forward and then falls forward. The ripped trim body that is so very very hot — perfect long toned curved legs, cinched ripped waist, jockey shoulders, and rocking swimsuit-model arms, and all still new to him — languors out ravishingly as he smothers into the pillow of the thermic insulating sleeping bag prepared there. A deepening ice age gradually and progressively submerges him, annexing his sylvan flesh, his wiry, whippety torso and limbs, his blood, his bones, his genitals — all that had been obese, fetid, abhorrent just weeks ago. Unconsciousness claims him. **** Twenty hours pass. If unconsciousness cleft the ice shelf of his mind from the main and sank it in North Sea waters, the berg breaching the surface reawakens him. Insulated by foiled layers at the tunnels opening and the sleeping bag, while Ejaaz is gone from this world, his temperature and that in his crafted space dropped to below 0C/32F degrees. In the chamber, rime coats walls and ceiling and everything, even the foiled barrier. It’s a cold dark freezer of isolation — extreme to a degree far eclipsing even any previous shot. Brutally bare except for orange underwear, Ejaaz’s raw skinned body prostrates a heartbreaking, snowstormed, make-model purple corpse — hipbones and ribs and solidified sinews. He’s so abominalized he’s almost beyond aching — but he aches, aches gravitationally. Hoar glazes his skin and the cloth over his tantalizing pubes. Fog streams in and out of his ajar mouth. Invisible Kelvinic blades mutilate his striated flesh in the shoveling thousands. Daggering vectors spear viciously into his drop-dead skull. He can’t move, he’s so ice-tombed. “Noooo,” he whimpers, “enshallah, pleahhe.” Then he gathers his objections and yaps, “No” — A sound agonized and croaky struggles out because his vocal chords both harden in one position and because hour after hour of comatose screaming have sanded them raw. His sublime jaw mainly freezes open in place. Outside, the high unchallenged sun flames. Sand scorches about the foundations of al Maktoum, baked worse than a kiln. Concrete and steel footings sizzle. Four square miles of black glass horde sunlight then dazzle it back into the sky. How can it be so inhospitably hot when the nondescript concrete form hidden in the middle of it all shudders with the nihilation of outer space. In the tunnel, it is Quarium in Ejaaz that generates endothermic extremes, terraforming the concrete to match the exterior of McMurdo Antarctic Scientific Base upon a months-long night. Unabated by searing heat and injected instead of sniffed, Quarium molecules failed to bind to Ejaaz’s cell receptors, instead entering into his cells. Destiny now unfolds. If instead there were heat — i.e., baking direct Arabian sun — and if sniffed, it would be different. In that situation, Ejaaz’s cells’ receptors would have received the Quarium and bonded, then caused a cloning of cells to explode. A warm environment causes Quarium to make fleeting Shadowcells — desirable musculoskeletal replicas. They flourish in ratios of up to two dozen or more for each native cell. With sniffing and heat, before a Quarium user’s eyes, an Arab guy’s sweaty, perspiring body expands in girth and power with growth. Shadowcells in him proliferate as uncontrollably promiscuous as a nation’s worth of bare-assed bubbly-butted submariners occupying every square inch of a sirening 1960s erotic cartoon steamy island poster. The unbridledness of the cells’ replication rams guys’ growth — explodes them into objects of lust — sizeable, full, meaty, snorting, dripping things, like massive studs, like big bull cocks, like brimming djinns — full of libido and power — cut, jacked, huge. It happens in proportion to the Quarium and the thermic source and the guy. With extreme heat and Quarium molecules, any poxy loser becomes gorgeously muscular. Cells mass and magnificate him. They hyper masculinize him — the new found grodiness rages in a metamorphosed rippling gay or bi or even straight fagbeast who has hijacked all the trappings of ultra bodybuilding, porning masculinity while the baking heat persists. But the external heat always abates eventually and the circulatory system’s pace recalibrates, and the shadow cells subside upon loss of energy. So one ought understand: an inhaled administration of Quarium (misted up one’s nose) when done in great heat expands and then subsides. Orgasmic flexing swells into exquisite being, parades conquering raunchy triumphancy, narcisses and exhibits erectionally, ejaculates climaxingly, and then disappears as the dissipation and reabsorption of shadow cells unfold. Contemplate, a wimpy faggot sniffing Quarium with some loser friends in the dazzling Arab summer morning. See their unworked little bodies bulk up and grow fantastic before their lechery eyes. Imagine them narcissistically swept into the lording of the gigantic bodies they receive, ostentatiously wearing bikinis cut so low and so tight that they more than show off what they’ve drugged for themselves, that it reveals every aspect of what they have done on purpose — the hugening of their mountainous chests, bouldering of monumental shoulders, crowding of climbing backs and traps, rising of their incredible biceps, expansion of their enormous curving asses, and the unbelievably thick legs that stage behind awesomely transformed barely-clothed-over himbo dicks and balls. They earthquake their strength and vitality, oozing the enthrallment to feel such vast beef across their bodies, weighting them down, mountaining them up, widening them like the Ranhad T’maad span, arching them toward the sky from the great asses they have, planting them in the ground with their bridge truncheons of legs, expanding torsorally with monolithicality. They feel all these things for every minute of the Sun’s journey across the sky. And then shift to consider the late day sinking disappearance of the sun, the hot blast easing, the moisture-sparse air of an arid land not retaining the heat it has gained. Envision the gentle cooling from that. And, in conjunction, conjure the thought of thumping heart rates that release orgasms the kind of which these fuck-nothings would piss just to realize existed. They would spuge-detonate after eight or thirteen hours of oversized, so-bare-they’re-more-vulgar-than-naked raunchy foreplay. Afterward, their cumming-eased heart-rates back down from porn-horny pace. Understand that a diminished, fever-broken bloodflow brings less energy to cells, tires the hosts of those blood cells, has them doze, and know then that shadow cells in the temporary Mr. Olympians say goodbye. Over hours, the cells aerobate until a quarter day later, neither the Quarium, nor anything the Quarium dingle-servingly wrought in the sniff-poxy-pansies exists any longer. Individuals who for soul-joying hours ass-humped as gluttonous gargantuans, muscling more extremely than Grimes or Kai Greene or baby Forslin or Marcello, revert to exactly the fagstupid putrid nothing fucks they had been. But, that is not Ejaaz here, that is not him now. —————————
  21. So this is a story I decided to write on a whim as an excuse to procrastinate from coursework I'm supposed to be doing that is very very loosely connected in some way to this, which is how I justified to myself wasting a couple of hours on it. In any case, I hope you enjoy it and I hope I don't offend any Potterheads on the forum (seriously, please don't execute me, I just thought the magical premise lent itself well for muscle growth stories) and instead I hope you appreciate the nods and references here and there. As always, feedback is always welcomed. HARRY POTTER & THE DRAUGHT OF VIGOUR Harry: Longbottom! Neville: Hello Harry *He says in an unamused yet friendly tone* Harry: ah it’s good to see you mate *Harry replies while patting Neville’s back* Harry: well come on, come in, it’s chilly outside isn’t it? It’s been 2 years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and former Hogwarts colleagues Harry and Neville had gone on to start the following chapter in their adult lives. They had remained friends after Hogwarts and Harry had invited Neville over for a Saturday night of eating terrible food and indulging in the stories of their lives. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Harry: hahahahaha. Neville: you don’t have to be such knob. Harry: *laughter trailing off* well you are correct that it wasn’t the nicest gesture, however, I honestly wasn’t aware that it took till the following morning for someone to find you on the common room floor. Neville: well it’s not as if I could undo Hermione’s curse on my own. Harry: at the very least that act of bravery is what won Gryffindor the House Cup during our first year, so cheers to you sir. *raises his wine glass* Neville: it does feel quite nice being acknowledged by the ‘chosen one’. *he says in a sarcastic tone* Harry: sod off. Neville: what a time to be alive though, despite the second wizarding war. Harry: a lot of things have changed, a lot of people have changed, I was taken aback when I came across Luna again the other day, she’s still quintessentially Luna though. Oh! *Harry half-jogs to another room* Neville: what are you doing? *hears rummaging* Harry: digging this out *Harry appears back in the room with a shoebox* Neville: what do you have in there? Harry: all kinds of stuff from back in Hogwarts *Harry says while sticking his arm further and further into the shoebox* Neville: where is your hand going? *Neville said, perplexed* Harry: oh this? I asked Hermione to put an extension charm on this box to store a lot of my old things. Incredibly handy, but why can’t I find those photographs? I have a couple of albums from our time at Hogwarts. Neville: maybe you have too much stuff in there, let’s take some of them out. Harry: Alright, here *Harry said as he started passing items off to Neville* After a number of things had been pulled out. Neville: okay let’s take a break, now. You really ought to clean that thing once in a while, this all can’t be absolutely necessary anymore. Harry: they are memories, some great, others torturous, but memories nonetheless. Neville: really, this is a memory worth keeping? *He says while holding up a 6th-year Herbology textbook* Did you ever even use this? Harry: I don’t believe so, it was around the time everything started falling apart. Neville: why is it so tattered already then? Harry: I’m not sure... *Harry says while taking the book from Neville and turning open the cover* ‘This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince’ *Harry read out* Neville: The Half-Blood Prince? Harry: it was Snape’s pseudonym, I used his copy of Advanced Potion-Making during my 6th year as well and it had all sorts of changes to potions and spells he developed on his own in them that improved upon the ones in the book. Neville: You arse, so that’s how you did so incredibly well in that class. You could have passed the knowledge along. Harry: well not every spell in there was for good. I am very curious to see what he came up with in Herbology however *Harry said as he started to skim through the pages of the book as Neville leaned in as well to see* Neville: wow there are so many notes written in the margins. Harry: it was the same with his Advanced Potion-Making textbook, the man was a bloody genius. Neville: ‘draught of vigour, enhances exponentially the physical strength of the person who consumes it, a single sip causes.....e..t.......opp......i....ex....t....e’ *Neville read on a page they came across while going through the book* I can’t read this part, it’s smudged. ‘...sulting in magnified male physical traits’ Harry: well I believe the rest is rather clear, I think that bit simply went into more detail as to how it happens. Neville: magnified physical traits and enhanced strength, rubbish, it sounds too good to be true. Harry: this is one of Snape’s potions though, THE Severus Snape, it must be real. Neville: how come Snape never fit the description of someone who drank this potion then? Harry: it was Snape, do you really see him walking around resembling Hercules considering his personality? Neville: you’re not wrong. Harry: it’s most likely also temporary. Neville: what makes you think that? Harry: the ingredients, I know some of them are used in brewing Polyjuice potion, and that only lasts a couple of hours. It might be a variation on a transformation potion? Neville: isn’t Polyjuice brewing restricted? Harry: I have plenty of stories to tell *Harry says with a smug look* Neville: well that’s apparent. Harry: should we try it? Neville: are you sure about this? Trust a potions recipe a random student came up with? Harry: it’s a potion Snape came up with, the potions master Severus Snape. Neville: are you sure this Half-Blood Prince character was Snape? Harry: how do you think I won that bottle of Liquid Luck back in the day? Neville: blimey Harry, that’s how you bested the mighty Hermione? Harry: I’m telling you, his notes would make Slughorn green with envy. Neville: so... enhanced strength you say.... Harry just smirked in response. Neville, luckily for Harry, excelled at Herbology, and had the ingredients at his disposal, he loved to collect samples of even the rarest plants and fungi he could get his hands on, so they locked up and made way for Neville’s apartment for a night neither is sure to forget. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Neville: leave your coat wherever you like, could you start a fire and prepare my cauldron for me? Harry: certainly *he said as he lit a fire and reached for the cauldron* Wow, an Induro 1816, this is a high-quality cast bronze cauldron, with lion head handles and custom engraving. Neville: keen eye. I inherited it from my great- great- grandparents. Catch Harry. Harry: got it *Harry said, catch the jar Neville had tossed him* Got everything we need? Neville: yes, are you sure we should do his? Harry: just imagine the possibilities. Neville: very well. And so Neville undertook to brew the potion while Harry read him the instructions and recipe: Add 4 leeches to a bubbling cauldron..... ........... ....... stir counter-clockwise exactly 55,5 times without............ Shred the...... Then pour in spoonfuls of ground tuberose until the potion turns a pale.... ..................... ....occasionally.......... ......... Add 3 drops of Mandrake sap and wave your wand to....... ........... while adding.... ...... Let boil for an hour and proceed to add a bundle of knotgrass..... .................thus allowing the mixture to............... Add a Devil’s Snare vine with...... .................... Finally, stir 6 times clockwise and twice counter-clockwise while simultaneously waving your wand until the mixture ceases to bubble and add 10 leaves from a Whomping Willow, one at a time. The resulting draught should be white in colour, having the consistency of troll mucus and an aroma reminiscent of damp mossy forest and tanned leather. Neville: *sighs out in relief* It’s finally done. Harry: *sniffs over the cauldron* What a very specific smell, mossy forest and tanned leather. Neville: I don’t have a problem with the smell as much as I do with the way it looks.... doesn’t it remind you of.... Harry: I thought best not to mention it *Harry quickly interjected* But I’m glad to hear I wasn’t the only one with it in mind. Neville: are we sure we want to try this? *Neville said with a dubious look on his face as Harry poured them both a cup of the potion they had just brewed* Harry: cheers! *Harry clanks his cup against Neville’s as they both down the concoction* Neville: wow *he coughs a bit* Harry: that’s bloody awful, it’s like a stale minge Neville started to feel the effects of the potion first, he felt a dizzy spell coming on, he struggled to breathe and felt really agitated and disoriented. At the same time Harry was starting to feel tingling all over and broke out in a cold sweat, his heart was racing, he felt as if a bout of nausea was about to overcome him. Feeling ill distracted them from noticing some of the other effects of the potion that were becoming more noticeable; their veins were engorging, becoming fatter and more prominent on their skin as main veins spread into countless branches all over their bodies. Then their hearts started to pound, harder and harder, reverberating in their heads, their veins pulsing in unison with the heart beats. Harry: fuck, fuck, FUUuUCK *Harry screamed as the growth kicked in* With each pulse through his veins, his muscles started to swell. First only a bit at a time, slowly filling his sweater, causing it to fit his body in a much more complimenting way. Then suddenly his left arm jerked into the air and starting from his deltoid down to his biceps and triceps, then finally his forearms his muscles swelled, growing twice their size in an instant, tearing the sweater sleeve apart. As the feeling rocked Harry down to his core and drool ran from his mouth in absent-minded ecstasy, the growth started to spread to his right side, his left pec, trap, neck and lat swelling bigger, and bigger with each breath until another violent jerk made them and his entire right size explode in size in a wave that raced towards his fingertips, catching up to his left arm, destroying the remaining sleeve and neck of the sweater, the leftovers falling down to the floor revealing his (currently) disproportioned body. At the same time, Neville was undergoing the same transformation, he grabbed his head with both his hands as his body pulsed and grew until his shirt and trousers were taught. Then as the growth rocked through his lower body, first through his right glute, then his quad, and finally his calf, ripping his pant leg to pieces and forcing him to lean onto his underdeveloped left leg until the growth targeted that one as well, the sudden growth on that side now causing him to lurch and collapse on to his knees, when his already muscular legs doubled in size once again, forcing him to use his hands on the floor to steady himself while his trousers left this world behind, and revealing a pair of boxers that were desperately trying to contain something very large that was growing thicker and stiffer. Harry’s growth meanwhile had started to make haste travelling downwards, his abs and obliques bulging one by one, and a deep Apollo’s belt forming on top of his hips giving him a thick and meaty core, this was followed by his glutes bulging outwards, blowing the middle seam of his jeans right open. Neville in the meantime was screaming to high heaven as the growth spread through him much more violently, rushing upwards making his entire upper body bulge in size, then again, then again, then one more time tripling in size in a wave of growth that knocked the air right out of his lungs, his upper body becoming ridiculously wide while maintaining a relatively trim waist, that spread into his massive legs when your gaze travelled further downwards. At the same time, his cock, fully erect and poking out the top of his boxer’s waistband and his oversized balls which stretched the rest of the fabric to its max, were growing with each wave of growth that rocked him as well, his cock grew purple and the veins became grotesquely engorged, and then one wave and the cock stretch longer and swelled thicker, and his balls swelled larger causing tears to come from his boxers, then again even larger, then once again, when Neville’s underwear finally gave out and he moaned in ecstasy, his cock lodging itself between his enormous pecs, eliciting an obscene moan from him as it swelled one last time becoming menacingly thick and squirting out a large glob of precum. At the sight of his ridiculously muscled and well-endowed friend arousal overcame Harry like a feral animal’s instincts, the tear in his jeans’ rear spreading towards the front of the pair of pants as his growth sped up, his cock tearing right through everything bursting forwards in all of its glory, freakishly large and as thick around as a bodybuilder’s arm, although even then not as thick as Neville’s. It smacked hard against his abdomen with a loud and wet *THWACK*, drooling precum like a river. The growth continuing down his legs, destroying what little denim had remained desperately hanging onto his frame. When it seemed as if any more stimuli would fry their young brains, the effects of the potion finally started to subside. The profuse sweating stopped, and they slowly started to regain their bearings. Neville: Christ *Neville said as he began to stand up* Harry: bugger, that was a wild ride. Neville: you can say that again.... holy shit Harry... *Neville said as the sight of his newly enhanced friend finally registered in his brain* Harry: Looks good huh? *he said as he strikes a double bicep* Although I can’t say I dislike my view. Neville: what are you talking abou.... *Neville’s words trailed off as he took in his own physique, exploring all his new glistening muscles, flexing here and there* Wow Harry: I don’t think it’s quite fair that you got to have this thing though *Harry says, lust and envy tinging his words and coming through in his eyes as he grabs Neville’s bigger cock* Neville: FUCK! Harry what the... SHIIiiiiIT *Neville tries to get out as Harry swallows his cockhead in one fell swoop, Neville instinctively pushing Harry’s head down further, forcing his monster cock down his friend’s throat with his newfound strength* yes yes yes, fuck YEAH! Harry: *cough cough cough* down boy, that thing can kill now, although I know of another hole that’s up to the challenge *Harry says as he bends down, laying his chest on the table nearby, presenting his rear to Neville* Neville without saying another word walks over and ploughs his cock into Harry’s ass down to the hilt prompting a guttural roar from Harry that quickly transitioned into a lascivious moan as Neville pulled out halfway and plough back in again this time with a tad more care into his actions. In and out, again and again and again, he rammed his massive cock into Harry. Flipping Harry halfway on to his back, Neville pulled out all the way then rapidly ploughed halfway into Harry making him grunt, he pulled out again, then rammed it in again halfway, repeating this a few more times before getting back to fucking Harry like he wanted to kill him. As he came closer and closer to his climax Neville picked up the pace and the strength with which he rammed Harry, he fucked faster and harder, and harder and harder and even harder, pushing Harry to the edge himself until they both yelled out in unison when Neville rammed him one last time, him coming into Harry and Harry shooting his load into the air where it then came down pouring like torrential rain unto them and the table. As they came down from their stupor they started to slowly shrink back. Neville: oh man, it’s not permanent? No! I wanted to stay like this. Harry: haha well then it really would be too good to be true if it were permanent. Besides, there is only so much of your animal fucking that I can take before I die. Neville: that’s not really my problem now is it *Neville said trying to be smug, his façade slipping just a bit as his cheeks blush pink* Harry: look at him, all that hot air filling your muscles went to your head? After about half an hour of slowly shrinking down, they stopped shrinking at a good 8kg (18lbs) heavier than they were prior to drinking from the draught. Harry: hmm I guess there is some carryover from the potion after all, or it just takes longer for the last bits to leave our systems. Neville: well I did enjoy being the hulking beast, but I suppose I can live with this much *he says while flexing his arm and admiring his new above-average bicep* Harry: well.... as you are aware, we did brew a whole lot of the draught of vigour, there is always more experimentation to be had, we should figure out if this amount of extra size will be left over after every use don’t you think? *Harry says in a sensible tone* Neville: as true men of the magical sciences we should be methodical shouldn’t we now? *replies Neville in the same tone* Harry: you always were a very reasonable man *says Harry as a smirk appears on his lips* -- The End --
  22. Hey guys. I haven't been very active here for a long time. Must have been a year at least. But I'd really like to be again, because this is my favorite community and place to be on the interwebs. So I figured I'd just upload my recent project here. It's posted in the Stories Category, because it tells a kind of story, and doesn't really fit in the Media category. I have this up on Twitter as well~ The story has the magical name of "Egon muscular shot 03 outtake" or EMSO, how I prefer to call it. The reason it has this silly, ugly name is because this was never planned to be or meant to be a full project. But now here I am working on Page 112... Please let me know what you think!
  23. NewGuy71

    theft Late Night at the Gym

    Hey guys. This story was co-written with NovelAI's Sigurd model, using the new Custom AI Module feature wherein I basically fed the AI trainer ~600KBs of muscle theft stories and this was the result. Late Night at the Gym It's late and you're working out in a mostly empty gym. The only other people around are the night staff, but it's mostly a skeleton crew. You prefer the quiet, however, as opposed to working out while the gym is crowded and full of jocks and fratboys. You're not some scared weakling, but you're not a big guy either. You've been working out at this gym for a year already, and you've yet to put on any real muscle or size. You're starting to wonder if maybe you're just destined to be a small Asian twink forever. You're finishing up your workout when you spot one of the personal trainers, Tyler, walking up to you. The handsome blond towers over you at 6' 4", and his tight muscle tee and gym shorts leave little to the imagination. His muscular 240-pound body is the product of years of hard work, and you've always wanted a body as ripped and sculpted as his. Tyler grins as he approaches, "Hey, little man. Working hard, tonight?" Despite his intimidating size, the bodybuilder has always been helpful and friendly towards you. Probably because you've fooled around together in the locker room more than once after a late-night workout. You eye the outline of the obvious semi in the bigger man's gym shorts. "Yeah, but it looks like someone wants a workout of a different kind..." "Oh yeah? Well, if you're up for it." His biceps bulge as he crosses his arms with a smirk. You can't help but stare at the huge muscles flexing beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Your cock twitches inside your sweatpants as you imagine burying your face in those massive pecs, worshipping them with your tongue. It doesn't take long before you find yourself sitting in Tyler's lap in the empty locker room, doing just that. Both of you had stripped off your shirts, and the muscular blond sat on the bench with his arms behind his head as you proceeded lick at the exposed muscle before you. You licked the sweat off the handsome bodybuilder's impressive pecs, swirling your tongue around his nipples. He moans softly into the air as you suckle at his fat buds, running your hands all over him. You press against his chest, feeling how much larger and thicker he is compared to you. How could anyone possibly resist this hulking titan? A thick, heady musk billows out of the blond's exposed pits. You inhale deeply, drinking in the scent of masculine arousal until it becomes too intense for you to bear. You break away from his torso and kneel between his legs, licking eagerly at the pungent treasure trail leading down to his groin. He lifts himself off the bench as you pull of his shorts. You moan lustily as you bury your nose deep in the dense patch of hair surrounding his shaft. His manly scent is even thicker now, and you run your hand along his impressive length. Not only was Tyler blessed with good looks and great muscle building genetics, but unlike most bodybuilders he had a great cock too. At 10.5 inches of thick, white manmeat, it was a wonder how the blond was so humble. You wrap your lips tightly around the big tip, sucking it greedily into your mouth. You bob up and down slowly, savoring every inch of his magnificent tool as you give him a blowjob. "Fuck! Corey, you're gonna make me cum!" The muscular blonde grabs the back of your head and starts fucking your throat. You stare up at the heaving bodybuilder as you deepthroat him. Thankfully, you don't have a gag reflex, and he slides in and out of your tight throat with ease. You watch in awe, Tyler's impressive physique on full display. From his handsome, chiseled face to his large traps and wide, cannonball shoulders... from his massive pecs to his broad lats and amazing eight pack abs... from his bulging biceps and tree trunk thighs... Tyler has everything you've ever wanted. A strange, burning desire pools in your guts as you worship the bigger man's cock. You want his size, his power, his muscle... more than anything. A stray thought passes through your mind, 'If you want it so badly, why don't you just take it?' Tyler groans, a strange weakness passing through his body as he continues to enjoy his blowjob. "Mmmh, fuck yeah, little man. I'm about ready to bust my nut." You gaze hungrily at the huge slab of meat jutting out from Tyler's crotch, your own dick twitching in your pants. You can feel the heat rising in your body, the fire spreading throughout your veins as you imagine the giant manhood inside you. No... not inside you... on your own body, as if you were the one with the huge cock instead... You start to pant, drool running down your chin as you continue to suckle at the thick, veiny shaft. "Uhhhnnngh, mmmmm," you moan around his throbbing prick. The blond groans as a second wave of weakness passes through him. It feels like something is leaving his body, pooling in his balls as he prepares to cum down your throat. "Ahhhhh, fuck yeah, little man." Tyler's eyes roll back into his head as he cums in your mouth. He pumps his hips, thrusting his massive cock hard and fast into your face until he can't hold on any longer. With a final grunt, the blond hilted globs of hot, thick semen explode out of his huge, throbbing tool. You guzzle down his cum, enjoying the way Tyler's thick seed slides down your throat. It feels strangely warmer than usual. You glance upward and stare with shock as you watch the massive bodybuilder start to shrink before your eyes. Tyler, lost in the throes of orgasm, starts losing height and muscle as he continues to cum into your mouth. An odd warm sensation fills your muscles, and you suddenly realize you're growing! You're getting bigger and stronger by the moment. You look up at Tyler, who continues to lose pound after pound of muscle as he seemingly cums his size and power into your hungry gullet. In mere moments, the blond looks more like a fitness model than a huge bodybuilder. Conversely, your skinny body has bulked up considerably as you slowly gain Tyler's lost height and muscle. As his orgasm peters out, you pull your lips off his cock, staring down at the once enormous tool that belonged to your idol. His cock is still above average, but far cry from the massive tool it was once. Your dick is still rock solid, and you let out a low moan of lust as you stroke it through your sweatpants. You gasp as you realize how much bigger it feels. The blond personal trainer collapses onto the bench beside you and passes out with a sigh. You stare at the still impressive man lying on the bench. You realize that you've somehow managed to steal some of his size by drinking his cum. You can hardly believe it. You stare the newly grown muscles on your formerly skinny body. You're not massive by any means, but you look like you've been working out regularly for years. You sit up and reach out a hand towards Tyler's chest. The muscular man moans softly as your fingers wrap around his pecs, squeezing them roughly. Even your hands are bigger, covering more of the diminished bodybuilder's pecs with ease. A hardness presses against your stomach, and you look down to see Tyler's still hard now 7-incher. Could you steal even more muscle if you sucked his cock again? Your mind races as you imagine growing even bigger and stronger. You lick your lips hungrily as you imagine the size and power you could gain if you sucked Tyler's cock. The thought of having more muscle, strength, and size than most men is enough to make your cock twitch. It's too late to stop yourself. You've already started to suck on Tyler's big, fat prick. It's still pretty thick, but it fills your mouth much more easily than before! You gulp down the first few inches of Tyler's manhood, missing the way his meaty pole stretched out your mouth. You can't help but run your tongue all over the length of the rod, savoring its salty flavor as you take the rest of his manhood into your throat and start sucking. The unconscious blond moans, even in his sleep, as you tease him closer and closer to orgasm. "Mmmhnnn, fuck yeah, little man. That's a good cock sucker." Tyler's voice sounds muffled as he mumbles to himself. He groans and thrusts his hips, fucking your mouth and throat. "Oh, god, I'm gonna cum!" You can't resist the urge any longer. You want his size, his power, his muscle, everything! You need his cum! As his cock swells in your mouth and he cums down your throat, you feel your own body start to grow. It's not just your muscles. Your cock grows as well, stretching out, gaining inch after inch of length and girth. You can't get enough. You keep on swallowing his cum, filling your belly with the thick load. You pump your growing cock as you drain the personal trainer of his size. Tyler's thick semen spills into your throat. He thrusts his hips, pumping hot cum into your mouth and down your gullet even as his continues to lose size. His muscles wither away as he shrinks to the size of a young athlete. The once impressive cock still cumming down your throat is down to about 4 inches, and continues to lose size and girth along with his balls. On the other hand, as more and more cum fills your stomach, your body keeps on growing. Your arms and legs swell with new muscle, and pecs start to jut out from your chest. You groan as your spine stretches upward, giving you more height, and your shoulders broaden. Your lats become so wide they give you a pronounced V-body shape, and your biceps bulge to the point that your forearms are nearly as big around as your upper arm. Your abs also stretch outwards, becoming defined and chiseled, as your glutes, quads, and calves grow. Soon, Tyler looks less like a young athlete and closer to a young boy as you siphon the last vestiges of size, muscle, and masculinity from the former bodybuilder. Your growth slows as the blond's ejaculation peters off. His dick becomes flaccid, his muscles shriveling up and disappearing as you continue to drink down every drop of cum that remains inside him. "Ahhhhh... ahhh, fuck," you moan, staring at the now soft 1-inch cock between your lips. You can't believe how much bigger and stronger you've gotten by stealing Tyler's size. You rush to a mirror to check out your new muscles. They're incredible! You stare in the mirror, admiring yourself. What you see isn't your usual skinny frame anymore. The bodybuilder's musculature has given you a truly massive physique! Not only are your pecs and arms bigger, everything about you is huge! You can't help but let your eyes linger on your cock. It's still rock hard, and seems even bigger than Tyler's original 10.5-inch dick. Your cock feels like it's made of steel, and the veins and blood vessels seem to be bursting out of your member. You stroke yourself slowly, watching in awe as you jack your monster cock. It's easily twice as long as what you had before. Your balls feel swollen, your testicles huge, and your scrotum hangs heavy on your shaft. You've never felt more powerful or virile. You freeze as you hear a quiet, high-pitched moan behind you. Turning around, you spot at the emaciated form of your former idol as he lies passed out on the bench. He's a shell of his former self, shivering in the cool air of the locker room. A gnawing sense of guilt fills your gut. Tyler didn't deserve this. He was always kind, not only to you but to everyone who came to the gym. The blond was always willing to help, to support you, to motivate others and help you get better. He deserved better than this. You turn back to the mirror to gaze upon your incredible form. You place a hand on the mirror as you trace your impressive muscles with your eyes. It was everything you ever wanted, but you couldn't keep it. You didn't want it, if it meant doing this to Tyler. You had to give him back everything you stole from him. You grip your thick, veiny cock as you strode over to the bench where Tyler lay unconscious. You press the fat head of your cock between his lips. A strange weakness filled you as something seems to gather in your balls. "I'm going to make everything right, Tyler. Don't worry." you murmur as you start to cum into the sleeping blond's mouth. Even unconscious, Tyler seems to naturally gulp down all the cum with ease. You watch with relief as his skinny form started to grow, even as you began to lose your own size. "Fuck yeah, take it all back!" you groan as you continue to cum. You pump your hips, fucking your thick, veined meat into Tyler's open mouth. His tongue laps at your shaft as he swallows your load. Soon, the blond regains more and more of his impressive physique as he grows to the size of a young athlete, then a fitness model. Your cock shrinks along with your body as you empty more and more of your balls inside Tyler's mouth. Eventually, the handsome personal trainer was once again at his original huge size. Every single inch of height and pound of muscle restored to his massive frame as you shake the last of the cum from your softening cock. Once again, you were nothing more than a scrawny twink. But at least Tyler wouldn't have to suffer. You dress as the blond continues to slumber on the bench, but when you turn to leave you find yourself pinned to the lockers by a massive wall of muscle. You look up into the smirking face of Phil. The huge black man was a pro bodybuilder, and at 6'6" and 270 pounds of muscle, he was even bigger than Tyler! His attitude was pretty shitty though. Unlike Tyler, the hulking bodybuilder was mean, aggressive, and totally full of himself. "Well, lookie here..." he grunted in his deep, bass voice. "A couple of faggots having some fun? How about you service a real man, boy?" He steps back and forces your head down to his crotch where a massive footlong cock pokes out the leg of his gym shorts. You resist at first, but then realize this is a golden opportunity. The man was huge bully. An arrogant waste of space that didn't deserve his size or muscles. Why not take them for yourself? Reluctantly, you pull down Phil's red gym shorts, revealing his huge 12" horsecock. It was massive! You'd never taken a dick that size down your throat before, but before you could even think about it, the massive bodybuilder forces his incredible schlong into your mouth and down your throat. For the first time in forever, you actually choke on a dick as your throat tries to stretch to accommodate the oversized member. The huge cock stretches your mouth wide, filling your cheeks as the tip feels like it reaches all the way down to your stomach. You gag as he starts to fuck your mouth with his monster tool, his big balls bouncing off your chin. He grabs your head, forcing you deeper onto the shaft of his cock as you struggle to breathe through the thick, fat cockhead stretching out your esophagus and pressing against your lungs. You try to pull away from him but he's too strong. He holds you firmly as he thrusts into your mouth into a series of powerful strokes, fucking your face. You can barely breath around the enormous cock buried so far down your gullet. But then... you start to feel a familiar desire swirling inside you. Meanwhile, Phil pauses for a moment as a surge of weakness pulses through him, but the big man doesn't stop fucking your throat. He ignores the odd feeling of something leaving his body and making its way to his huge balls as he gets closer to shooting his load. "Mmmhnnn, yeah, take my load, boy!" Phil groans, burying all 12 inches of his fat prick down your throat. You feel a warmth start to fill you and you realize the huge bodybuilder is cumming directly into your stomach! You're overwhelmed with the thick, hot spunk as it fills up your belly. You hear a groan behind you and realize Tyler is waking up. "W-what the? Phil! What the hell are you doing?! Stop-" The blond tries to intervene, but pauses when he sees Phil slowly start to shrink. "Oh my god," the blond moans as he watches the biggest man in the gym start to lose size and mass. "What's happening to him?" Tyler asks in shock as the black bodybuilder continues to unload. He glances at you, and his eyes widen when he realizes that not only is Phil shrinking, but you're somehow growing... Phil's cock shrinks as well. His thick member and balls shrivel as his massive frame starts to wither. The once imposing black man is now approaching Tyler's size and continues to shrink further. 'Is... is Corey... stealing Phil's size?!' Tyler though incredulously once he realized where Phil's lost mass was going. You moan around the shrinking cock in your mouth as you start to grow again. Your arms and legs swell as your chest bulks up with new muscle. Every pound of muscle, every inch of height and cock the black bodybuilder loses is transferred to you. Your clothes grow tight, then with a loud ripping sound you shred your torn clothes as your new muscles burst through them. "Ahhhhh! Fuck!" Phil cries out as he continues to shrink. His muscles soften as his bones shorten. Soon, the former pro bodybuilder starts to look more like a college freshman as you continue to drain his masculinity. Eventually, Phil is reduced to 5' tall skinny twink as you finish absorbing the last of his testosterone and manhood. He collapses to the floor, unconscious. "Holy shit, that was intense..." Tyler murmurs, his own cock rock hard and leaking from the sight he just witnessed. He looks at you, a bit stunned as you stand up and up and up. With the height you've stolen from Phil, you're now even taller than the blond personal trainer. He stares with a flushed expression on his face. You're about to explain when you feel a hand caress your cheek. "Incredible..." Tyler breathes in awe. "You're fucking huge! You're the biggest Asian guy I've ever seen, Corey!" The big man strokes your muscular body, admiring the sheer size and strength that you've gained. "Yeah, I guess I am." You say softly, looking down at your still naked idol. "Do... do you like it?" Tyler seems to think for a moment. He smiles and nods his head as he reaches out to grip your massive cock. It's so thick! He can't believe how much bigger and thicker your member has become. "I'm not sure what to call you anymore," Tyler says, stroking your enormous cock slowly. "You're so big..." "Well..." you begin, unsure of yourself, "How about... boyfriend? I really, really like you, Tyler." You smile, letting him know that you're serious. The blond bodybuilder blushes, but he can't help but nod his agreement. He strokes your huge cock, marveling at the length and thickness of it. "So, um, mind if I try out this monstercock between your legs?" Tyler asks with a nervous laugh. "Sounds good to me!" you chuckle. You cross your arms, showing off your impressive, massive physique as you step closer to the blond. His eyes go wide as he takes in your immense size, but then his blush returns. You grab him by the shoulders and push him down onto the bench, forcing your cock into the handsome young man's mouth. "You're so fucking huge!" Tyler moans around your shaft, but he doesn't resist as you start to fuck his throat. The blond boy eagerly swallows every inch of your veiny dick as he moans in pleasure. "Oh yeah," you groan as you enjoy the tightness of his throat around you cock. Eventually, the blond pulls off and turns to brace himself against the locker as he presents his ass to you. He's a little smaller than you are now, but he's still a big guy in his own right. "Fuck, you're beautiful, Tyler!" you gasp as you position your cock at the entrance to his asshole. The blond grunts as you slowly push through his sphincter. "Mmmmmmhnnn! Fuck yes, Corey... Oh god! That's amazing!" the blond moans as he feels your cock stretching his insides. Slowly, you press inch after inch into the bodybuilder's hot hole until you're buried balls deep in the man's ass. "Holy shit! I didn't realize you were so fucking big!" Tyler cries, amazed as you start to pump your cock in and out of his stretched anus. "I am now," you chuckle as you reach down and squeeze the tight buns of your new lover. You stroke his hair lovingly, loving the way he responds to your touch. "That's it, baby!" the muscular blonde cries as you thrust harder and faster into his ass. "Faster! Fuck my hole with that big cock!" You obey the request, pounding his perfect musclebutt hard and fast. Your body is covered in sweat and you pant heavily. Tyler is enjoying the massive cock stretching his hole when you suddenly pull out. He tries to protest, but the handsome personal trainer yelps as you spin him around and lift the bodybuilder into your arms. He wraps his legs around your waist and his arms encircle your neck as you position your oversized cock at his hole and slide back in. "Oh fuck!" Tyler groans once he realizes what's happening. "I... I can't believe you're strong enough to pick me up and f-fuck me midair... that's so hot!" He laughs, looking over your shoulder as you slam your hips forward. You grunt with each impact. You bury your thick meat into the muscular 240-pound bodybuilder, using his own weight to force him to take every inch of your cock. "OH GOD! FUCK! YESSSS!" Tyler screams as he cums, shooting a huge load all over the two of you. It's impossible to miss the spurts of cum flying everywhere as you continue to plow his tight asshole. "You're... you're gonna make me cum too!" You pant, as his inner passage rhythmically massages your huge cock. "I'm going to shoot my load, Tyler! I'm so close!" The blond bodybuilder moans as he watches you explode inside him. He's never felt such pleasure from sex before. It makes him wonder if he could ever be satisfied by another man. He looks down at you only to realize you're shrinking. "W-wait! Corey! Something's happening!" he protests until he realizes that he's growing alongside your diminishing form. You grunt as you pour load after load of size and muscle into the handsome blond. "Giving you... ugh... what you deserve, Tyler. You need to be... bigger!" The growing personal trainer holds on tight, still impaled on your now shrinking cock. Eventually, your legs give out and you collapse onto the bench with Tyler in your lap, unable to handle the growing man's increasing weight. The two of you pant as you finish cumming in Tyler's ass, the muscle transfer ending as well. After a moment, the blond asks, "What... what did you do, Corey?" "I transferred some of Phil's size and muscle to you," you say, smiling as you feel the last traces of your orgasm subside. Tyler blinks at you, before he slowly pulls himself off your softening cock. He stares at his body in awe. From what you can tell, the blond is now even bigger than Phil was. You probably gave him 40, maybe 50 pounds of muscle, in addition to a bit of height and cock size. He turns to inspect himself in the mirror. Each muscle is bulkier and more swole than it's ever been before! The blond's arms are thicker, his shoulders wider, and his legs are massive. He runs his hands over the bulging muscles of his shoulders and chest. "Holy shit!" Tyler exclaims, looking at the reflection in the mirror. "Is that a ten pack?!" he says as he traces the deep grooves and rows of his abdominal muscles. "Yeah, I guess so," you chuckle, checking out your new physique yourself. You're now about 6'3" and 220 pounds. Still impressive and more than you've ever hoped for. "I'm fucking huge!" Tyler chuckles. "But why? Why didn't you just keep all this size for yourself." He turns to look you in the eye. "Oh..." you say as you start to blush. You rub the back of your head awkwardly as you reply, "Well, I just really like it when you're the bigger guy, Tyler. You'll always be the bigger man to me." Tyler's eyes soften and he wraps his arms around you. He presses his lips against yours and kisses you gently. Your cock stirs at the feeling of his body against yours. The two of you break apart and Tyler stares down at you with lust in his eyes. "How about we take this back to my place?" You start to nod when you pause. "Uh, sure. But I think I'll need to borrow some clothes. I don't think my old ones will fit now, huh?" you admit. "Oh, they definitely won't!" Tyler agrees with a laugh.
  24. RavenousBeast

    giants Bigorexia

    Hello, this is the first story I’ve released. I’ve definitely read some better ones but I hope you enjoy this one. Bigorexia I never thought that it would get this bad- the total loss of control I felt. It forced me to consume everything on my path to becoming a behemoth. I no longer had restraint. Anything that could make me grow was a no brainer. It wasn’t always like this. When I was growing up muscle was always something I admired, but never something I needed. That changed when I turned 18 and looked in the mirror. Something was wrong with me. I saw my skinny fat body and questioned why I looked the way I did. Why wasn’t I working out enough? Why was I not bigger? Surely by this age I should at least look somewhat like those men- those gods I admired!? A spark was ignited in me that day. The embers of my need to grow were lit and soon the flame would overtake my every thought until I awoke engulfed in the wildfire of growth. I went to the gym that very day. I got weird looks from most, but I didn’t care what they thought because I already knew I needed to get huge. I hit the weights like a beast. I pumped my minuscule chest, my rail arms, and my chicken thighs until the burn felt good. I waddled to the grocery store and bought as much as I could to fuel my growth. The next morning I felt bigger, even if just a little. The soreness, the extra weight in my step. But when I looked in the mirror I was still a small weakling. I retreated to the gym in a blur and repeated for the next 6 months. In that time I put on 35 lbs of size onto my frame and I still felt like an ant. Some of the guys at the gym saw my dedication and grew to respect and even befriend me. But I didn’t like to talk to them still. All they would do is tell me I looked bigger and more cut but I couldn’t see it, and it pissed me off. That was the day I went to talk to Gary, the biggest guy in the gym, a hardcore bodybuilder type. He said that I looked frustrated and I told him why. He told me, “if size is what you want I could lend you some gear”. My heart froze. This is what I needed, something to accelerate my growth. It turned me on a lot. I could see myself blowing up with size, just filling up everything around me. I said yes of course and started a light cycle. My light stack turned into a normal one and then a big one. By the end of the year I was on so many drugs it took me hours every day just to get them all ready (along with my meals and workouts). I lived in the gym and I gradually approached Gary’s size as we worked out together every day. He would compliment me saying, “I have no idea how you’re able to handle all that gear! You’re gonna be the biggest guy in the gym soon”. Why would he lie to me like that? He wasn’t lying, but it felt like it! Every time I looked in the mirror I felt the same- not big enough! I needed to explode with size if I was ever going to be satisfied, so that’s what I searched for. I crammed myself into the computer chair at the library, since I had sold most of my things to pay for my growth. I looked into experimental methods to get huge, like bigger than Mr.Universe huge! I was about to give up when I saw a message in my email. It was anonymous, but the subject read “Growth Formula”. It said that they were a government organization dedicated to creating a super soldier. They were struggling to find consenting adults to test the serum on because most military soldiers did not want to get that big. I was intrigued to say the least. They said that they had their eyes on me for a while because they thought I had something called “muscular dysmorphia”. They asked if I was interested in trying the serum. I was gone by the end of the week. In the facility there were closed cell doors in long hallways all around. I wondered what was in them but knew better than to ask. They put me in a room with the serums but there was a problem. No mirror. I asked if they could put me in a room where there was a mirror so I could watch and they obliged, what was the worst that could happen? I shot up the serum and was sent into pure ecstasy. By this time I was about 245 lbs. and stood at 6’2”. I was a decent sized guy in retrospect. I could have settled, but I just wasn’t built that way. I watched in awe as I began to inch taller. Gradually my limbs and appendages stretched to accommodate what it felt like would be a wave of intense growth... it was. I saw that little image of me in the mirror balloon with size. Adrenaline filled my body and every muscle pumped up with pure mass. If felt like heaven! Not only were my muscles growing, but my dick started to expand, longer and longer and longer. My chest was pumped up to the size of two beach balls pushed together, my arms were the size of what my legs used to be, and my legs were long, thick, stalky masses of pure size that held up my even wider upper body. I finally looked like a god, yet I somehow felt disappointed. I could feel the power of my new godhood, yet when I looked in the mirror I was still inadequate. The next decision I made would change everything. The mirror room they put me in was considerably smaller than the ones they put the other test subjects in, and I saw them pick up the serum syringes from the lab down the hall before we stopped by the room. Part of me wished I could settle for the inhuman size I was then, but I knew it was futile. So I bunch up my newly powerful fist and break through the wall and start running towards the lab. I leave broken glass, dust, and screams of panic in my wake as I move my immense 1,000 pound body at amazing speed. Alarms start to go off and the door to the lab almost closes- but I just barely beat it. I am inside the room alone. All the scientists and guards had evacuated, for good reason. I hear banging on the doors, so I need to act fast. I recognize the syringes and pick on up, then two, then five. Then I stop and think for a moment what could go wrong. Would I overdose and die on the spot? Would it matter? No. I realized I no longer had control over what I would do once I saw my reflection on the glossy floors. I was nothing. I needed to be bigger. I needed to be as big as I possibly could to ever feel satisfied. So, I grabbed a bucket, emptied all the syringes into it (at least 25), and started drinking. It burned going down, but it tasted soooo good. The serum itself didn’t have much flavor, but the taste of growth was a flavor unmatched. I felt my body swell taller at an alarming rate. By the time I drank the whole bucket down I reached the top of the warehouse sized lab, and I was nowhere close to being done. Then the growth started. I saw my pecs jump in front of me, blocking my view of anything even remotely under my head for about 5 feet. My rhino sized delts stretched to the edges of the room as my pterodactyl lats quickly pushed up my person sized arms up. I gave a quick flex, then another, and then another. It was beyond wonderful. From under my massive pec shelf I see a telephone poll like cock begin to inch upward and I simply couldn’t resist. I pull it into my mouth and begin to suck, only increasing my ecstatic growth and pleasure. The rest was a blur. I must have sucked the giant cock for what felt like hours. I would feel my self excel in height and then blow up with size repeatedly several times, each time better than the last. I was a veritable giant now. The entire facility was smaller than my legs and I was able to see everything around me as if I were looking down from a helicopter. I was now the biggest living thing on the planet and I finally felt some semblance of satisfaction. My titanic body absorbs the sun pleasurably. The fire of my desire seems to have calmed. But every day of me enjoying my giant-hood as the new leader of Earth I wonder, what would it feel like to be even bigger?
  25. tester26

    m/m Sean puts on a show

    Based loosely in HSMuscleBoy's world. Heavily influenced by stories from soccerstud88 (not sure if current username), musclebuff, and others. Sean puts on a show "Aw fuck yeah..." Sean smirked in the green room mirror. The teen took one last look, relishing over his perfect choice of outfit, the one that he picked out just to display his pumped muscles; a skintight red shirt and blue jeans. It sounded innocent enough, but it didn’t leave a single inch of his young muscle body untouched, nothing left to the imagination. His fat round pectorals started the whole show, so big now in fact that his shirt actually got caught between the unimaginably large cleavage. Next came his arms, flexed they were a round 28 inches, swollen with so much muscle, his sleeves couldn’t find anywhere else to go but up. Deep iron plated abs rippled, anatomically carved obliques to match. One of Sean’s favorite parts was how his shirt just barely reached the top of jeans. It revealed just enough to let people see the bottom of his brick-like abs, his narrow waist, and his chiseled adonis belt pointing down to his bulging jeans. And that was all just the upper half. Down below Sean grinned over what must have been the most extreme set of muscle legs the world had seen. Calves that were bigger than most men’s thighs stretched his jeans near his knees, quads that were bigger than most grown men's waist, so swollen into one another, Sean couldn't even put his own two feet together. Then came the grand finale, the juicy center of it all. A 14 inch long, thick as a soda can, completely soft monster cock resting atop a pair of orange sized balls, leaving a bulge so x-rated, so obscene, that even his own zipper looked as if it would pop at the slightest hint of his cock getting hard. “Fucking alpha stud...” he whispered to himself. He was ready to put on a show. Sean made his way to the stage, feeling his clothes strain and struggle against his bulging muscles. He had to be careful not to rip through his clothes. He needed to save the show for the crowd. The audience murmured and shifted in anticipation. Soon the curtain in the middle of the stage opened and Sean stepped out to gasps and cheers. Sean stood with his feet spread apart and arms swollen from his chest, grinning at the crowd. The threads of his Red T-shirt snapped and groaned with every breath he took. You could see the outline of every muscle on his gigantic torso through the fabric. His jeans were filled to the brink of destruction with muscle, and obscenely showed off the outline his monstrous manhood and huge testicles. He palmed his growing denim bulge and snickered, knowing his muscles were so huge that his clothes would simply shred to pieces from a simple flex. “Sup dudes?” Sean said with a smile. Music started to play as Sean paraded around the stage, giving everyone a good look at his musclebound, golden alpha body. He stopped in the center of the stage and instinctively slowly raised his arms up colossal arms. The threads snapped and stretched even more, Sean couldn’t help but smirk feeling so unbelievably powerful and strong. His cock started to swell up in his jeans, he could feel his posers start to dig into his ass crack. He paused for a moment to relish on what was actually happening. He suddenly raised his arms up and placed his hands on the back of his neck hearing a loud RRRIIIPP. What emerged made the audience gasp. “UGNN” He groaned feeling his biceps explode through the fabric, all 28 inches of them. Enormous biceps ballooned from all angles of his upper arm. His forearms were bulging hams already glistening with oil. He crunched his abs down and flexed his arms as hard as he could. His 8 pack was pumped already and his pecs were heaved up so tight against the shirt it started to look transparent. He took a deep breath and flexed his pecs with loud groan watching the left one tear through the fabric. His lats flared wide, shoving his arms out and back. He paused, allowing the crowd to see and appreciate his physique. “UHH God Look At Me….Fuckin MUSCLE!” Sean hit a most muscular pose feeling the shirt rip half way up his spine unleashing even more of his body. With clenched teeth he snarled and grunted, flexing his back over and over until the remainder of the shirt was shredded to pieces. He watched the remaining fabric dangle lifelessly around his mammoth traps. Sean ripped the remaining fabric to the floor hitting another massive pose. “AW YEAH!!” Sean glanced at the men around the stage and noticed that a few had their hand on their hardening crotches, squeezing and rubbing their dicks in appreciation. Sean struck a double bicep pose as he paraded around the stage. The peak of his biceps now reached the palms of his hand, completely filling the space within his flexed arm. He grunted like an animal, beads of sweat appearing on his upper body. He brought each arm to his lips, kissing his biceps worshipfully. Groans came from the crowd and men began to cum at the sight of the teen god. “Fuck ya dudes, cum for me” Sean said with a smirk. Each flex was like a wave of euphoria for the big teen. The crowd's cheers were all music to his ears and he simply rolled along the stage like the big boulder of muscle that he was. The huge stud brought his arms down again, sending another wave of bounces through them. Each powerful pectoral muscle bounced against his chin, pressing his head from side to side with the swells of mass. Sean reached up to grip against them, almost suggestively squeezing them to his face, practically covering it while he tensed them harder than ever. He flexed his enormous biceps again and drooled just looking at their throbbing size and power! Completely intoxicated he couldn’t help but slowly start to lick each one. He let out a light moan as he licked and cleaned every inch of them, kissing and making out with his own muscles. No other man had the masculinity, the muscles, the sheer dominance he had. He lowered his arms to his waist and began to flex his legs one at a time. The massive bulge mounted between Sean’s legs was convulsing and growing. The blood that was rushing to his thighs was also pouring into his enormous dick. A shaft the thickness of his massive forearms started pressing outwards, straining the already weakened zipper of his overstretched jeans. The heavy balls were pulsing and swelling, pumping out superhuman quantities of testosterone as they prepared to discharge their load. His jeans became painfully tight before he heard a loud SNAP as his left leg burst through his jeans. "SNAP!" his other leg burst through. “FUCK YEAH!!” With a final snap Sean’s zipper exploded, unleashing his giant, rapidly hardening manhood. His bright red posers, already soaked with pre, stretched tightly over his package, his monster cock stretching the posers so far that they only covered the head. He crossed his arms behind his head and with a quick flex, the overloaded posers snapped, his meat slapping his abs with a loud smack. Several in the audience screamed. The dark red head of the superhuman man pole was enormous. The thickly veined shaft continued expanding until the cock head was level with Sean’s pecs. The floor of the small auditorium was becoming slippery with the quarts of cum shot from the male audience members, wild with desire. A group of men had congregated towards the front, reaching on-stage in worship of the incredible muscle man, begging him to take them, fuck them, piss on them, degrade them. Some were drooling, others had fainted. “Aw fuck yeah, check it out dudes.” Sean groaned, as he stroked his monster cock. He began to flex his legs as hard as he could watching more of the fabric tear from his immense size, feeling so unbelievably powerful and strong. He squatted down while flexing his entire body letting out a roar of power watching the rest of his tree trunk legs burst out of the fabric. He flexed them over and over feeling the muscles push up against each other, spreading his feet further and further away from each other across the cold floor. He then ripped off what remained of his pants, the crowd going wild as he did, whoops and hollers sounding through the performance area. Sean raised his massive arms up above his head, his palms outstretched on the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, tilted his bull neck back against his palms and began gyrating his hips, his muscled stomach and bubble butt flexing in response. He was incredible! His chest was humongous, his massive slabs of pec muscle narrowing down to a tiny waist of 28". His hips were narrow yet his buttocks were large rounded mounds of pure muscle, and his thighs were an incredible 39" with 29" calves. He turned and did a side chest so that everyone could see the stupendous expanse of his huge pecs narrow down sharply to the tiny waist. The rigid 20” monstrosity jutting from between his legs pointed proudly between his pecs, smearing precum over them and sliding in his cleavage. He turned and showed his back, the muscles rippling hard with every slight movement. Cries of awe went up from the crowd. "And Now for the Grand Finale.." He wrapped his hand around his prick and started slowly stroking, from the thick root of his monster all the way up to the swollen helmet. When he reached the spongy head, he rubbed and teased it, groaning and sighing, and his cock bulged and lengthened in response. It was a colossal shank of masculine power dripping pre and throbbing hard. It was red and shiny and hard as steel. He stood there, looking into the audience, with a hard-on as thick as an arm and nearly two feet long rising up from his loins and throbbing. His balls dangled heavy and full. The mouth of his prick was drooling a steady flow of pre that cascaded down the thick, hard shaft like honey. He lifted his arms and flexed his muscles into full bloom. The biceps swelled and rose up to meet his clenched fists. His lats flared out like wings. His chest spread insanely wide as his pectoral globes rose and displays the insane cables of raw brawn stretching across them. And at the center of it all was his cock, red and hard and hungry for attention. He smiled as he released the flex of his awesome muscles. Then he licked his lips again, leaned forward, and pressed his long tongue to the drooling head of his cock. He licked it again, sucking off the pre and licking it from his lips. Finally he wrapped one hand around the thick stalk, pulled it towards his mouth, and began to suck his own prick. His cheeks sank with every suck. He closed his eyes and moaned and started shifting his hips. He was fucking his own mouth! Sean stood sideways to the audience, his lips locked over his own dripping cock head and with loud slurping sounds he drank down his precum. Both hands traveled up and down the length of his rod, and he turned and twisted so everybody got incredible views of his rigid, leaking dick, now even harder and leaking more. His groans became faster and louder, muffled by the incredible bulk of his bloating cockhead, and his hands became blurs as they rode the amazing length of his shaft, and then, throwing his head back and roaring as he came. He locked his lips over his meat once again, and the audience groaned in awe as they watched as Sean drink his load, torrents of cum running out of the corners of his mouth, drenching his cock and pubes. After a full minute, he pulled his cock out of his mouth, still throbbing hard and spurting. He grinned and clenched his fist, flexing his entire body. The slit of Sean’s swollen throbbing cock head dilated and a thick volley of man juice shot up, slapping the ceiling of the auditorium with globs of sperm. Another blast of equal force rocked the stage. A third cumshot erupted with less force, but lasted a good four seconds. The stream looked like it was coming from a giant cum drinking fountain, spilling into a large pool on the stage. A fourth shot hit the top of the stage curtains, drenching them. They in turn released a steady rain of cum as the milky liquid dripped down. As he continued flexing, stream after stream blasted out of the superhuman teen. The stage was soon awash in sticky, milky cum. Sean hit one colossal pose and roared as his monstrous cock thickened and unleashed a river of cum towards the back of the room. Dropping his pose, Sean grabbed his cock and slid it through his deep pec cleavage. His cock flared and grew even thicker. He fucked his pecs, his cock sliding slickly through a couple of inches of its own cum which settled in the valley of his huge pecs. Sean practically bathed himself in his own cum, rubbing it all over his body, his massive muscles glistening under the stage lights. He felt his balls tighten again and he aimed his hose at the audience, his shaft so incredibly thick that he used both hands in unison, stroking up and down. Despite the huge volume of cum already expelled, His elephant bull balls rose to the occasion again. He flexed every muscle in his body, and a thick stream of hot milky liquid shot out over the eager audience. Men were shrieking with pleasure, blowing their little loads as the naked muscleman blew his massive one. For a full minute jet after jet bathed the audience’s faces. Eventually, Sean’s orgasm ended, and he let his dick flop down between his thighs, a few bubbles of cum still oozing out, dropping onto the ground. Sean grinned widely, nodding proudly to himself as he surveyed the damage. He was surrounded on every side by a teeming throng of cum drenched worshippers, marinating in pints and pints of his own spunk. Overcome with lust, another person crawled up on stage, quickly pulling off his cum covered clothes. He looked to be about Sean’s age; he had an angelic face and a modest build, looking like a fit swimmer. Despite his good looks and fit body, he was absolutely dwarfed by the teen god he had been jerking off to this whole time. He kneeled at Sean’s feet, reaching out to feel Sean’s massive thighs, his hard erection pointed at the object of his infatuation. “Aw yeah dude, all this fucking muscle and cock making you cum?” Sean looked down at the kneeling stud and smiled, his semi hard meat dripping cum into a growing puddle at his feet. With both hands, he hefted his cock until the head was eye level with his new partner. “You like that, buddy, don't you? You like my huge cock? Man, you're so hard I bet you could cum just from licking the head of my cock. Suck it.” The new worshipper grabbed Sean’s cock - it took both of his hands to encircle that big log. The kneeling teen went to town slurping on Sean’s massive cock head, making sure to stick his tongue deep down the meaty piss hole to suck out every drop of sticky cum. Sean quickly became hard again, his throbbing beast renewed by the new worshipper. The audience groaned, several members jealously whining about not thinking to rush the stage first. Sean gave a vicious thrust with his hips and sank about half his monster cock down the kid's throat. He loved the way that felt, stretching a mouth and throat impossibly wide, feeling the awesomely tight smooth flesh strain to contain his giant dick as it throbbed and swelled. “Fuck Yeah! That feels incredible.” Sean pulled out and let the bottom come up for air. His face was wet and slobbery with cock juice and spit. The teen eagerly laid down and put his legs up, letting Sean punish him however he wanted. Sean’s monster cock rammed into his welcoming hole with a soft squelch, and he started pumping away. The impaled teen screamed and moaned as Sean pumped every enormous inch in and out of his abused hole. The crowd began to whisper and shuffle watching the spectacle unfold. The collective group gasped loudly as the giant cock sunk into him to the base. Low whispers from the audience. "What a slut, he must be a porn star, How is that possible, he is a freak, Wow he must be so loose." “You like my fucking horse cock dude? Gonna stretch you out so much you won’t be able to walk for a week!” Sean growled. "Oh my god yes fuck me with your monster cock, Stretch out my slut holes." the bottom screamed. "I'm a slave to your giant cock, Fuck me until I cant walk, Destroy my ass, I only exist to get fucked." The crowd grew quiet as they listened to the feverish moans on stage. All guests jaws hung agape as they watched Sean force his giant meat into his new partner. The sounds of huge balls slapping against his body echoed through the building. A bucket appeared on stage, pushed by a helpful stagehand, presumably hoping to limit further damage from Sean’s voluminous orgasms. Sean lifted the teen up, standing as he used the smaller man as a fucktoy. "Oh god yes, fuck me harder." he screamed. "Yes...yes...God yes...Oh GOD! Yes! Aw...FUCK!" Sean jackhammered his partner until suddenly, Sean slammed the teen’s slim torso all the way to the base of his cock and roared - thick spurts of cock snot painted the insides of the bottom’s guts white until it started leaking out of his ass pump by pump into the bucket under the two of them. It looked like almost a gallon of baby batter got fucked into the bottom twunk’s little hole, while he begged for more in loud moans. "Yes oh my God yes, Impale me, Wreck my ass, Destroy it, Ruin my ass, Fuck me with your horse cock, Make me a fuck toy for your donkey dick, Wreck me with your giant cock." he screamed before the cheering crowd. The crowd began yelling towards the stage. "Fuck his brains out, Destroy his ass, Make him your bitch, Wreck that ass, Destroy him, Break that bitch, Fuck that slut." The crowd had erupted into an angry mosh of lust for the slut on stage. Sean roared again as cum rocketed from his titanic cock. Sean groaned and shook with bliss, egged on by the crowd. He would push his cock as deep as possible and groan with pleasure, then pull the cum-coated monster out, dripping with cream, before pushing it back inside. At one point he withdrew it entirely and the crowd could all see the dripping mouth of his prick spray a sudden, thick rope of cum into the audience, before being shoved back inside with a wet, delicious sound. Sean unloaded three huge loads into his fucktoy. At the end of it, Sean’s new worshipper was in total ecstasy with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, prostate completely battered, and belly bulging mildly. Every one of Sean’s full-length pumps made a loud splash of jizz spurt out of his ass into the cum bucket, and his fist-sized head could be seen bulging out right below the boy’s ribs with each thrust. Finally Sean pulled out, a waterfall of jizz pouring out of the teen to fill the bucket nearly to the brim. His massive cock swung down between his thighs, spurting the last dregs of cum directly into the bucket. “Thanks dude, that was fun.” Sean laughed as he pulled his delirious partner in for a deep kiss and lowered him to the ground. The thoroughly fucked teen wobbled bowlegged for a second before he dropped to his knees, falling forward to slurp off every last drop of cum from Sean’s veiny monster cock. Looking up at Sean, he took the bucket of cloudy jizz up to his lips, he took several deep gulps, savoring the flavor on his tongue, before dumping the rest on his head, letting himself soak in the sex juices. “Aw fuck yeah dude!” Sean moaned, the sight of the drenched teen causing his cock to spurt involuntarily, drenching a lucky spectator. The crowd cheered. With one hand the cum-covered teen smeared the ocean of cum towards his open mouth. With his other hand he scooped up fistfuls of cum and stuffed it into his still wide open ass. He laid spread eagle on the stage, coated in a ridiculous amount of cum scooping the thick sticky white fluid up in his hands and stuffing it into his mouth and asshole. With a moan, his eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp, passing out. Sean smiled as he surveyed the room. There was hardly a man in sight who wasn't positively soaked with cum. The majority had jizz splattered over at least part of, if not their whole, face. Many of the men had heads of hair plastered flat with sperm. About a third were fully unconscious, their hands still wrapped around their sore cocks, blissed out expressions on their faces. With one final flex and smile, the teen god left the stage.
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