Search the Community

With the permission of Lorus, the author, I am reposting this story he wrote for the old forum and later deleted. Fortunately, I saved a copy so it can once again receive the attention it deserves. Direct your accolades to Lorus. I am only a messenger. Adventures of an Incredibly Aesthetic Muscle-God By Lorus Part 1 It was a day like any other for Brett Hillard, who, as the world’s most beautiful male model, could name his price when it came to photoshoots. In fact, at just 25 years old he’d already visited over one hundred countries on Earth. He had his face on more billboards in every continent than the average human has dinners in a lifetime. No other man on Earth could come anywhere close to being as beautiful as he was. Alas, he’d grown quite bored with the whole thing. He had millions of pounds in his bank account. He had six hundred and fifty-seven pairs of sneakers, all of which had been donated by the various sneaker manufacturers. He’d put his name to a llama park in Swindon, simply because he’d had one shot of tequila too much one night and decided to do it for a lark. He’d also slept with thousands of men, all of whom said he was the greatest fuck they’d ever had. He was so beautiful that he could make grown men cry and then shoot their loads just by smiling at them. Life was good for Brett Hillard. Some would say ‘too good’. He wanted more. He needed a change. He needed to change. So he did some research, and found something after a little searching. On the internet he clicked on a pop-up that read: “Wanted: Human Test Subjects for Mind-Blowing Physical Enhancement Program!” “Huh? This can’t be for real… can it?” He dug deeper, reading more into it. Of course, these kinds of things don’t reveal much to start with. They get your curiosity juices flowing as they ‘rope you in’. They prey on your desires for betterment. This promised to pay thirty grand for an hour or so of his time. “I don’t need the money. But I want to be… different. Yet the same.” He admitted to himself that he wasn’t making sense. But he had to know more. So he emailed the brain(s) that ran the program, half-expecting to get spammed out of it. But that didn’t happen. Next day there was an email waiting for him that contained only one thing: a cellphone number. Without delay Brett dialed it. It was answered immediately. “So you want to be enhanced, yes?” The voice on the other side of the connection sounded calm and erudite. “I’m the world’s most beautiful male model. But I want to be better than that. Can you help me?” “Ah, so you must be Brett Hillard,” said the voice on the phone. “Yup… bet you’ve already wanked to my photos online. I’d be surprised if you haven’t.” Brett was cocky to a fault. He had that effect on people. He could almost hear the man’s erection springing up on the other end of the line. “Not my thing, alas, Brett. But my assistant has a penchant for muscular males. He’s spent many a time in the bathroom with a tablet open to your Instagram. Let’s not delve further, eh? I’d like you to come visit us. The program has already proven successful with non-human participants. I think you’ll be very surprised at my findings.” “Sure thing. What’s the address?” Brett’s big cock hardened and got larger at the thought of his body becoming better… even more astoundingly beautiful. “123 Swole Street. Come at 2pm. We’ll have everything set up, Brett.” And that was it. Brett showered and ate a hearty breakfast. Before leaving he chose a particularly eye-catching outfit to wear; he was a button-shirt, bowtie, suspenders, and jeans kind of guy. To be honest, the mega-hunky blonde was so beautiful, and super-sexy and manly in every way conceivable, that he looked amazing no matter what we wore. Blue eyed, square-jawed, he had gorgeous bulges all over his body. Even his Adam’s apple was big and manly. His body was like that of a fitness model, with chiseled muscles that re-defined muscularity. He wasn’t huge, but he wasn’t small either. His vascularity was off the charts. He had a ten pack, for god’s sake. He made Sergi Constance look like a couch potato. “And to think… I’ll be even more insanely beautiful after I take part in this program,” he vowed. He growled a little, got a huge erection again, and had to relieve himself before he left his plush penthouse. 123 Swole Street turned out to be a building for rent. It was nondescript, with a faint smell of ozone; as if there was electrical equipment buzzing and humming within. Brett fought off the usual paparazzi and screaming guys and girls getting wet for him (he was used to it, as this happened wherever he went). “You think I’m super-hot now? Wait for it, you plain, ugly fucks,” he jested. It was all part of his showing-off act. The public loved it when he was cocky and insulting. It turned them on even more. Grown men had to run into doorways to relieve themselves simply because Brett turned them on in ways you wouldn’t believe. He pressed the doorbell and instantly the door unlocked, buzzing him in. He entered the dimly-lit building and was suddenly overcome with a slight feeling of dread. He swallowed, albeit nervously. It wasn’t like him to be nervous. What if this was a trap, set up by some crazed fan that wanted to keep him prisoner forever? Although, if it turned out to be a gang of youths with boyband looks, he might be persuaded to develop Stockholm syndrome. He tentatively walked down a spartan corridor and gave a slight start when a fluorescent light above him suddenly buzzed and blinked on. More of that ozone smell assaulted his senses. His eyes watered a little. A door opened at the end of the corridor, and a gorgeous-looking bloke in a white coat emerged. He was somewhat Asian, maybe Eurasian, and reminded Brett a little of Dev Patel, only hunkier. He had a lovely smile. And suddenly Brett’s concerns were laid to rest. “I’m Raj. Welcome, Brett. We’re about to change your life. Come… such wonders await you beyond that door.” Raj was undeniably gorgeous, but nowhere near as gorgeous as Brett, but no one ever could be, certainly not after today. He remembered what the voice said to him on the phone. Could Raj be the assistant he spoke of, that ‘had a penchant for muscular males’? Brett bounced his not inconsiderable pectorals under his ‘painted-on’ shirt. Gaps appeared between the buttons, revealing smooth, tanned skin. Raj beamed with delight. “I hope that isn’t your favorite shirt, Brett. After the treatment, you’ll be finding it a tad tight.” Raj winked and then his gaze was drawn to Brett’s crotch where an enormous bulge had formed. The tight pants looked like they would split any second. Raj found himself thinking how huge Brett’s cock was at full hardness. Brett had done plenty of nudes during his illustrious career, so Raj had seen it — and wanked to it — innumerable times. But he’d never seen it erect. “Bring it on, Raj. And you never know, by the time all this is over, you’ll have a sore arse for a month, if you get my drift.” Brett bounced his pectorals some more and flexed his traps. Buttons strained. His bowtie groaned as he thickened out his neck whilst smiling his usual cocky smile. Raj’s cock ballooned behind his white coat. But he was at work, so professional decorum had to be maintained. He took Brett into the next room. There were cages with animals in them. The animals were beautiful-looking. Brett marveled at the sight of them. “That gorilla should have its own modelling contract. What a handsome fucker, for an ape,” said Brett, when the gorilla — thick and muscular with a gleaming coat — extended a hand through the bars to gently caress Brett’s hand. “Ah, he’s lovely, yes? Two weeks ago, he was a six-month old chimpanzee,” Raj exclaimed, barely able to contain his excitement. “Fuck no! Seriously? He used to be a chimp? Jesus!” Brett was very impressed. The next animal was no less impressive. He recognized it, too. “A Komodo dragon. I saw them on wildlife shows,” said Brett, deciding to keep his distance from the second cage. These beasts had a vicious way of interacting with other living things. “Oh you can’t be afraid of a cute little gecko, Brett,” Raj teased. Brett’s mind was blown. There were other animals in several more cages, each one starting out much smaller and less significant in the food chain than what science had ‘helped’ them become. Another door yonder, and this time a different scientist stepped through. “I’m Doctor Herman Weiss. Finally good to meet you in person, Brett.” Weiss’s voice matched the one from the phone call earlier. He was an average-looking bespectacled man of middling years. He was a little grey at the temples with a comb-over to hide a bald patch several years in the making. He tended to stoop, but his handshake was firm and sincere, which belied his lack of physical prowess. “So, Doc, what’s this experiment I’m going to be doing? I hope you’re not scamming me with false promises.” Brett formed a frown that advertised skepticism. Weiss smiled and nodded, as if he expected such a reaction. “I’ll cut to the chase. The lease on this building expires tomorrow. We tend not to stay in one place for too long. Ethics and all that.” He removed his spectacles for dramatic pause. Then: “What if you had the power to grow massively muscular on a whim?” Weiss paused to allow Brett to take it in. “Are you serious?” Brett frowned even further. This had to be a wind-up. “The gorilla is beautiful, no? For a chimp. The same would go for you,” Raj interjected. He took Brett’s hand and caressed it. Brett’s ephemeral skepticism was replaced with reassurance. “We ran several computer simulations. We predict that you would have the power to control your growth — transforming at will — unlike the animal subjects. When they changed the changes became permanent,” Weiss added. “Really? So I could grow as little or as much as I like? Then get smaller again?” Brett’s erection was now straining towards painful restriction. “We think so, yes,” said Raj. “Okay, I’m in. Pump me full of your science stuff. I want this. I want it more than anything!” The procedure was blissfully brief, and defiantly simple. Brett was made to take a shower before changing into a medical smock, although he would have opted to keep his own clothes on. Weiss insisted that the procedure would be most effective if outside contaminants were eliminated. Brett acquiesced. He was weighed, too, and some detailed measurements were taken of his body. Next a serum was administered through his muscled forearm. Doctor Weiss had no problem finding veins on Brett’s arm; he was ripped and vascular to a fault. The serum glowed with a faint greenish hue. “A side effect of the radioactive isotope used as a catalyst, Brett. It will not change your skin color,” Weiss assured. He winked somewhat mischievously “Huh? Radiation? You didn’t mention that before. Will it make me sick?” Brett’s alarm was short lived when Raj interjected. “It’s no more dangerous than an x-ray. Nothing to worry about, Brett.” Raj scribbled notes onto a clipboard as he spoke. His chief job was to note down everything that happened to the test subject. Brett didn’t much care for the unflattering medical smock, and he summarily ripped it from his body. Somewhat nonplussed, both scientist and assistant took a step back. “I want to look my best when I become incredible,” Brett explained. And so the 6’3” mega-hunk stood completely naked before the purveyors of his amazing future, his body rippling and glistening beneath a patina of sweat that adorned him with a god-like glaze. He sported a massive erection. Raj was overwhelmed by its length and girth. It had to be at least twelve inches long and eight or nine inches thick. Beneath the fleshy, horse-hung cock, his ball sack was heavy and bulging with gonads big as peaches. And they were about to become way bigger once the procedure ran its course. A minute passed during which nothing much happened. Raj had stopped taking notes and remained aghast and agog at things as they unfolded. There was a video camera recording everything as it happened. “I don’t feel any different,” said Brett, and he began to think that all this was just a scam. Then… It was slight at first, but did his chest suddenly thicken and look fuller than before? “Hmm… interesting. Only your chest has responded to the serum,” noted Doctor Weiss. He nodded to Raj, indicating he should make a note of it. “Well, I was just thinking about having a bigger chest, Doc,” said Brett. He bounced his now larger pecs, enjoying the experience immensely. “This could be significant,” said Raj. Weiss frowned. “I don’t pay you to have opinions, Raj. Keep taking notes,” Weiss intoned adamantly. And then to Brett: “Try thinking about growing another muscle, Brett, er… your biceps?” Weiss was as excited as a scientist could get on the verge of a scientific breakthrough, his own personal ‘Eureka’ moment. Raj, by contrast, licked his lips in anticipation. Brett lifted his right arm and bent it at the middle, forming a distinct and eye-catching mini boulder. A smug expression washed over his delicious face when veins popped out all over his arm and the bicep bulged larger than it ever had. It definitely got larger, almost as large as the soup plate-sized eyes in Raj’s handsome head. Brett didn’t stop here. He copied the pose of his right arm using his left, forming a double biceps pose. Veins popped larger, his muscles bulged significantly bigger and Raj moaned audibly as his lust for Brett Hillard intensified. To hell with professional decorum. Weiss didn’t pay him nearly enough for his work. “Try another pose, Brett. Perhaps a lat spread. Not that I’m knowledgeable of such things,” Doctor Weiss said, almost bashfully. Brett was only too happy to oblige. The naked archetype of Adonis fanned out his upper body, and his mind forged the image of him swelling huge. It took just seconds for his body to respond. He grew way larger than his learned onlookers could have anticipated. His lats formed an impressive delta spread. His pecs heaved upward and became thickly corded and striated. “Get me a fucking mirror… now!” As Brett’s desire to grow intensified, so his aggressive side became apparent. Muscle rage had to be anticipated. It was so very masculine, as the serum bolstered Brett’s levels of testosterone many times over. A mirror was fetched. Brett could now see himself reflected full-length. A smirk of pure conceit formed on his beautiful face. This was what he was destined for. “Grrrr… I’m a big, gorgeous muscle-god now. But this is just the beginning. So much power now courses through these veins. I can do anything I want. Rawwwr!” He flexed down into a huge most muscular, and his muscles exploded with greater size and definition. Raj gasped and dropped his clipboard, not that Doctor Weiss even noticed. The older scientist seemed transfixed with pure awe, although he was incapable of becoming aroused. Raj was aroused enough for them both. “Perhaps we could take some measurements now. And your weight has changed considerably. Could you step back on the scale, Brett please,” Doctor Weiss urged. Raj’s pants were soaked at the front, but his lab coat concealed the precum wetness. He wanted to come, but things were only beginning to hot up as far was Brett was concerned. “Incredible. Your weight has gone from 220 lbs to 350 lbs in a matter of minutes. Perhaps you could halt your gains for a while; give your body a chance to adjust, eh?” Weiss’ complexion had become a tad wan. This was far different from observing a chimpanzee grow to gorilla proportions. Brett had the ability to shape his destiny (as if he couldn’t do that before?), unlike dumb lab animals. “Hey Raj, you have the hots for me, so you get to wield the tape measure,” Brett said cockily. Stepping off the scale, he blasted muscle pose after muscle pose, his beautiful body becoming more and more striking. His skin tightened so that his muscles rippled and rolled, and his veins bulged so much more. Raj wanted him so much. His throat had become dry, and he croaked when he tried to speak. “Biceps...chkkkk…. twenty-six inches….up from nineteen.” Brett smirked in cockiness once more. “Just for starters,” he announced, bunching his upper arms into small cannonballs of size and hardness. He was already hugely muscled, but he knew he could get so much bigger. In fact, his growth seemed instinctive now. He only had to think about his muscles growing and they responded with gusto. His chest had gone from forty-eight inches to sixty-two. He wanted to pump it up even bigger, but it would have benefitted greatly from a workout. In fact: “Hurry the fuck up, the pair of you. This place is starting to get small around me. I need to put my muscles to work and get to the gym. I’m gonna blow people away.” Brett had grown weary of playing the science guinea pig. He wanted to explode onto the world and kick it around like a football. “Er… very well. But we’d like you to keep in contact, for check-ups soon. You are the first of your kind. This serum could have many beneficial medical applications, as in curing diseases that cause muscles to atrophy,” Weiss advised. “Yeah, yeah, Doc. You’ll get your awards and all that shit,” said Brett, continuing to pose and flex in front of the mirror in the lab. His cock had swelled up massively and Raj wanted to suck it so badly. In fact: “Why doesn’t Raj here come back to my penthouse and monitor me in daily life? He can report his findings back to you. Then we can get up close and personal. You’d like that, wouldn’t you Raj.” Seeming all too desperate, Raj pressed his face against the muscle-god’s prominent chest. The smell of his muscle-musk was overpowering. And rightly so. Brett had him under his spell. Weiss could do nothing but acquiesce. “Hmm… my clothes are all but useless to me now. So how will I get home if I’m naked? The streets will run white with spunk when grown men see me like this.” What to do, Brett? What to do indeed. Then he thought about growing smaller. And he did. It was miraculous to observe. But he didn’t return to his original size. He kept some of his gains, just enough to tease the fabric of his clothing to near-bursting point. His shirt had looked painted on to begin with. Now it hugged his muscles even more snugly, and he couldn’t button it across his chest, so he left the top few unbuttoned for even greater effect. Likewise, the threads of his jeans strained to contain his gorgeous thighs. The buttons of his fly groaned trying to keep themselves fastened. His crotch was wet with precum. Combined with his musk, he smelled incredible. An Incredibly Aesthetic Muscle-God was born. And it was time to have some awesome muscular adventures. Part Two: Raj Moves In The penthouse was a complete paradise to Raj. His own apartment could easily fit into Brett’s bathroom. This was a place where a rich twenty-something gay bachelor entertained to extreme. It had its own gym, games room, home cinema, sauna, jacuzzi, bar, and rooftop swimming pool. But there was only one bedroom, since even penthouses have finite space. “Don’t worry about the sleeping arrangements, pretty boy. You’ll be sleeping with me from now on. Not that we’ll be getting much sleep, wink wink,” said Brett, now that he and Raj were alone. Raj couldn’t believe his luck. The most beautiful man in the world was basically making him his roommate. Maybe much more, too. “I can’t believe this is happening,” said Raj, trembling with delight. “Well it is happening, so you better get used to it. Now to get you out of that fucking lab coat. I want to see you in the flesh, cutie.” Brett muscled up considerably, so that his clothes literally flew apart into pieces of confetti. He shot up in height, too, gaining 300 lbs of muscle in seconds. He was now even bigger than back at the lab. Raj cried tears of delight and forgot to breathe for a second. “Look at how huge I am. You’re a fucking rodent compared to me. Although, you’re a pretty sexy one.” Brett ripped Raj’s clothes off. Raj was muscular and toned, and not too ripped. He had, maybe, twenty decent pounds of muscle on him. He was 5’11” and a little broad-shouldered. Indian by blood, he was very attractive. He had a nicely-sized cock, too. A good eight-incher. It would suffice. “Get down on your knees and suck my huge muscle-cock, Raj. Try not to choke on it, although I suspect you will, heh heh,” Brett playfully commanded. He liked Raj a lot. Although he came across as a tad aggressive, he really didn’t want Raj to get hurt. “I will do anything you order me to, Brett. I am your slave in all things from now on,” Raj almost cried out his words. His speech was quickly quashed by a mouthful of the biggest, most beautiful cock he’d ever tasted. He could just about get his lips around the thick mushroom head. “Awww… feels good, Raj. You’re old hat at this,” Brett growled. Standing before him, he blasted out a full lat spread and willed even more muscle onto his incredible body. He bulged insanely — every part of him bursting with size and power — much to Raj’s delight. “Look at how huge I am. But don’t you dare stop taking more inches of my muscle-cock. Take it in, little man-bitch… but don’t choke. You gotta keep breathing in order to serve your Muscle Master. I’m your god now!” Brett’s pecs heaved with striated prowess, bouncing as the muscles pushed and rolled against each other. He played with his rock-hard nipples whilst Raj serviced his cock, and his arousal augmented further and deeper. Just for fun Brett willed his pecs a little bigger, so that they now formed an obstructive shelf before him. They blocked his view of Raj completely, and then Brett grew his nipples to ten times their size. Thicker than three cigar butts taped together, likewise the areolas swelled to the size of size plates. They began to ooze a delicious milky liquid that cascaded over his pec shelf and gushed down on top of Raj who was already getting drunk on Brett’s precum. Brett’s sweet nectars mixed together, and Raj drank it all in, not just with his mouth, but with his entire body. His lust at its greatest, Brett grew larger. His cock shot out and thickened considerably, so that Raj’s mouth could no longer contain it. Raj coughed and pulled back, his body glistening with his own sweat and Brett’s muscle/sex nectar. Brett picked Raj up with one hand and carried him to the massive bed in the bedroom. He playfully tossed him like a ragdoll. His strength was so great that Raj felt completely weightless. Raj lay there, panting and ecstatic, and everything darkened as Brett’s massive shadow fell across him. Cords of precum and muscle-tit milk quickly soddened the bed, but neither of them cared. Caught up in the moment, they were both slaves to Brett’s ever-increasing power. “Heh, I’ll go easy on you, my little man-bitch. Don’t want you in a body cast, heh heh!” There was no way to gauge Brett’s current weight, although his weight could never be ‘current’ since it was near-constantly changing. But Raj felt like he was shrinking as the massive muscle-god before and above him continued to explode with huge amounts of muscle. Brett’s skin tightened over his burgeoning muscles, causing the fibers to become visible and interlaced with networks of bulging black veins. Raj gasped and thought he could see the blood coursing through Brett’s subcutaneous piping. Brett threw his head back and laughed/growled in ecstasy. He was clearly drunk with power and wanted much more. His shoulders, neck, and traps exploded with mass and his pecs and delts continued to balloon. He lowered himself yet nearer to his ‘shrinking’ little man, so that Raj could take nectar directly from the source. Brett’s teats felt like dicks in his mouth and Raj found himself alternating between the two. Growling with desire and lust to grow even more huge, Brett squeezed his gigantic pecs together, creating a deep, dark, and sweaty cleavage which Raj was privy to explore with his tongue as it darted from one muscle-teat to the next. As Brett continued to gain yet more size, the king size bed began to groan in defiance of the massive weight it struggled to support. Brett didn’t care. Suddenly he flipped over, nudging Raj off the bed completely so that Brett could lay on his back. Easily close to 8’ tall, his girth was immense, especially his upper body. But his legs were no less impressive, so much thickness spread across thigh muscles that rippled and rolled as they battled for space. Between thighs and abdomen, Brett’s ball sack expanded to mind-blowing proportions, accompanied by a muscle-cock that simply refused to stop growing. A helter-skelter array of thick, dark veins embossed the rod and fed it constantly with blood altered forever by Weiss’s serum. Raj found himself ensconced on a sea of mega-muscle, the centerpiece of which was a phallus as big as his arm. There was no way his modest hole could accommodate a missile like this. And yet… “Fuck me… please Brett, my muscle-god. Fuck this little man-bitch into next week,” Raj implored. Choked with lust and muscle, his eyes watered with emotion. He was now obsessed with Brett, and this would never change. He found himself unable to stop from climbing onto Brett’s cock and positioning his hole over the huge head. It was already way bigger than just moments before when he was able to take it in his mouth. This would be like getting fucked by a baseball bat. But he couldn’t stop himself. “Get my huge cock inside you, little man-bitch,” Brett barked. The rod oozed enough precum to sufficiently lube itself. But Raj still struggled to get the fist-sized head into his anus. “Heh heh, am I too big for you? Does it hurt my little man-bitch?” Raj was barely visible beyond the huge wall of pec meat that obscured much of Brett’s view. He loved his new body and its awesome power. “Cuh-can’t take your duh-dick… please, make it smaller… puh-please!” Tears streamed out of Raj’s eyes. He really wanted to push down on his master’s enormous cock. He wanted so much of it inside him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life getting hammered up his hole by such a mighty beam. His lust was overpowering. He knew he was close to coming. Brett sensed it. His super-dick had become super-sensitive to maximize his pleasure. Just like his nipples he could control this sensitivity as much as, or as little as, he liked. And through his dick alone he could feel Raj beginning to convulse prior to orgasm. “Okay, I’ll make it smaller for you… but the rest of me must compensate for the shrinkage. Watch this…. Rawwwwwr!” Even as Brett’s dick shrunk by thirty percent or so, his body ballooned with further crazy amounts of muscle. The bed creaked more noticeably, now, as his body gained hundreds of pounds of new muscle. He flexed a massive double biceps and the huge mountains burst forth with more veins and more size. His head now seemed dwarfed by his biceps. His forearms also increased hugely. They made Frank McGrath’s forearms look like fucking twigs by comparison. Raj found himself slipping further down the muscle-cock. Inch after inch went into his hole, lubed sufficiently for maximum benefit. The pain was still considerable, but Raj found he could endure it. He’d taken a ten-incher in the past, but this time he was riding on more than that, probably twice as much. He’d be sore for a week after this, if not longer. Brett played with his massive, and super-sensitive, nipples, tweaking them between his fingers and thumbs whilst Raj adopted a bouncing rhythm up and down on his member. Raj was crying and screaming with every upward thrust from Brett. If Brett were to thrust hard enough he’d have Raj hitting the ceiling and probably cracking his skull. Brett had no idea how strong he was at this time. But he knew that he could get a lot stronger. And he intended to. But for now, he had to practice restraint, for Raj’s sake. Damn, why were men so fragile? He made a mental note to find a hardcore gym and fuck the biggest bodybuilders that trained there. He’d make them all his man-bitches. They would be small compared to him. Heh, that’d fuck up their egos for sure. After a few more minutes of the one position, Brett grew restless. He needed variety, and there was an itch in the small of his back. He leapt to his feet, causing the entire floor to shake. Folks living below probably thought it was an earthquake warning tremor. Still not close to coming (although closer than before) Raj gasped at Brett’s current height. The top of his head was just inches from the ceiling. The ceiling had to be at least nine feet from the floor. “Time for some doggy style, my little man-bitch,” Brett growled. Raj didn’t complain. As a devoted bottom, this was easily his favorite style. He submitted his hole once again and enjoyed the experience even more. Brett had to kneel in order to bring his mammoth member down to Raj’s level, but this was not a problem. And thus, further pounding began. Brett had to limit the strength of his thrusts for fear of sending the bed and Raj careening across the bedroom. But an enjoyable experience was had by all. To finish off, Brett effortlessly flipped Raj around, and the smaller man cooperated by drawing his knees up towards his head and pushing his anus outward, giving Brett two “handlebars” to hold onto in the form of his ankles. Brett did him up the hole even further, and increased his dick girth just enough to give him maximum pleasure without tearing Raj a second asshole. Raj came first, gobbets of spunk splashing onto his abs and chest. He cried out with a level of bliss no man has ever experienced. This further goaded Brett on. He wasn’t ready to cum just yet, although he was close. But he decided not to come inside Raj, as he’d no idea just how much spunk a body this large — with coconut-sized gonads — could produce. Besides, there’d be other times, and Raj seemed exhausted. “Heh heh, I’m a god amongst insects now. I guess I can go on tirelessly. Not like you, my little man-bitch.” Brett grunted out a few more thrusts – knowing he could have gone on and on — but there was plenty of time to ‘get to know Raj better’. Besides, he was ravenous. Growing and fucking had given him quite the appetite. “Time to come. But the mess will be considerable. Hmm… better think fast!” The muscle-god bounded across the bedroom and out onto the adjoining balcony. The city could take his spunk. He was forty stories up, and he knew he could blast out his load like a cannon. “Here you go, fuckers!!!” And he shot his load, a massive blast of muscle-crème. It shot out over the city skyline, arching outwards and onwards. He delivered gout after gout of his rich seed, which rained down on an unsuspecting population. “RAWWWWWWWWWWRRRR AH FUCK YEAH!!!! I’M A FUCKING GOD!!!!!” Liter after liter of hot steaming jizz pumped out of his huge cock. And he didn’t stop shooting for at least three or four minutes. Finally, he was spent, his balls reduced to a quarter their size, but his newfound instincts told him that he could simply will them to refill with yet more spunk, even more than he’d just shot. He finished by forming a massive full lat spread. His upper body fanned out and ballooned with masses of muscle-flesh. His skin tightened further, creating scar tissue: the bodybuilding badges of honor. He could keep the scars if he chose to, or order his body to heal. He was invincible. His full lat spread made him look even bigger. Every muscle was pumped huge. His pecs heaved upwards, so that he had to hold his head back to give himself room to breathe. He dominated everything with his size and power. And he could get even bigger if he commanded it. He crabbed down into a most muscular pose, and his muscles became even more striated, with mind-blowing separation between. In order to compensate, his body grew more veins in order to pump more serum-altered blood to his muscles. He growled maniacally, super-drunk with the lust to grow and get even stronger. His dick got bigger, thicker, and longer, and his balls almost exploded as more spunk was made in seconds. He flexed his upper pecs and willed his huge man-teats to issue their nectar upwards. Fountains of the fluid shot up and arced towards his mouth. In this fashion he fed on his own elixir. And it made him grow bigger. His cock grew larger still — easily thirty inches — and it slammed against his ten-pack ab wall. The sound was like a wet mattress slamming against the trunk of an oak tree. Brett came again. And again. This time he urged his issue upwards — a larger fountain yet — and he gorged on his own spunk. It empowered him. Hundreds of meters below him — the city streets teeming with life — people stopped and gazed upwards, drawn to the sound of a god’s screams of bliss. Some people were scared by the sound. Others were indifferent and went about their daily business. Others, still, were aroused by it. After, Brett shrunk down to 400 lbs of muscle, standing at 6’6”. When Raj was recovered and refreshed from their first fuck, he’d have him measure his muscles. He decided that 400 lbs would be a good baseline from which to spring future growth spurts. He was thickly muscled and extremely aesthetic. He would grow and alter his physique to suit his moods. Right now, his mood was hunger. He decided to see what was in his huge American-style fridge. There was some leftover fried chicken, which he devoured bones and all. A bucket of potato salad went down the same way. He fried up a dozen eggs and wolfed them down right out of the pan. There was a liter of frozen yoghurt, which he added to a blender, chucked in some protein powder and cream cheese and more eggs. He whizzed it up into a decent-enough shake and chugged it down. Finally he was satisfied, but he would want more food, and soon. “Time to hire a live-in chef. He’ll cater to all my food needs, giving Raj more time to worship me and get fucked. Speaking of Raj...”. Brett returned to the bedroom and saw his little man-bitch sleeping soundly in the bed. Brett, now sleepy from so much food, decided to join him. He lay down beside him and enveloped Raj in his muscular arms. If he wanted to, he could grow huge again. But he decided to save his strength for later. There were so many amazing muscle adventures to be had. Part Three: Finding Bodybuilder Man-Bitches It didn’t take long for Brett to find a live-in chef. Within an hour of placing the online ad, there was a queue of anxious and horny chefs — mostly sex-hungry males — gathered outside his building. Brett stood on his balcony overlooking the city and regarded his ant-like minions from high above. His booming voice carried to all and sundry. And specifically, to the women that turned up expectant and starry-eyed for a chance to work for the muscle-god: “Sorry girls, guys only. Go home and play with your dildos!” The crestfallen women chefs didn’t have to be told twice. Brett picked a handsome enough fellah and ordered the concierge to let him up to the penthouse. His name was Pete, but Brett would call him Chef Guy. His salary was three times that of his last job, which suited him fine. He was also gay, so there’d be some perks to the job, too, no doubt. “Cook me up a huge meal before the gym, Chef Guy. Protein-based. And make something out of this!” Brett cockily handed Pete a bucket containing a mixture of his super-spunk and his muscle-tit milk combined. Brett figured that his own fluids would be more nutritious than anything any bodybuilding nutrition expert could develop. Not that he needed to take anything to grow, but it was fun to dabble in new things. Pete came up with a macaroni and hamburger bake doused in the milk from his new employer’s tits and gonads. Brett reckoned he could increase the potency of his issue if he hulked up to massive proportions before spewing forth this anabolic ambrosia. But for now, the food was delicious. Brett ate three huge helpings and a rack of lamb with all the trimmings whilst Raj and Pete watched and wanked furiously. The penthouse would forever smell of spunk from then on. After eating, Brett hulked up to 500 lbs, so that his stringer tank and denim cut-offs would appear membranous next to his incredible skin. He grew his lats out so that his arms rested akimbo, although he couldn’t really get his hands and hips to touch. He loved that feeling, to have muscles so huge that they restricted his movements. He wanted his button-fly to look as strained as possible, so he got Raj to take a scissors to the panel of material that conceals the fly — cutting it away entirely — so that the silver buttons glinted and strained visibly against the massive pressure caused by his junk within. Some of his pubes poked through the gaps in the fly, and every follicle dripped with his musky aroma. “Here, get a snootful of my scent before I head to the gym,” growled Brett, pushing Raj’s head into his crotch so that he could inhale his amazing crotch musk. Raj busted a nut once more and cried out in bliss, before Brett picked him up, sucked all the cum off his dick, then kissed him lovingly and set him back down. No available protein would ever be ignored or wasted. “You two don’t get up to any sexy mischief while I’m doing my workout,” he playfully admonished his two-man crew, although he winked as he spoke. That said, he picked up his gym-bag and left via the balcony. “Fuck it, I’m too big to fit in the lift. This way is faster!” He leaped over the balcony rail, powerful spring-like muscles in his legs bulked out massively to propel him far out over the city. It was an amazing feeling. He landed just a few meters from his regular gym, bulking out his leg muscles to massive proportions in order to comfortably absorb the impact of his landing. He made a massive crater in the street, and car alarms went off and windows shattered. He didn’t care. “City can bill me. I’m good for it,” he declared with lofty pride. His gym was a plush affair, mostly for male models and minor celebrities to work out in, but there was also a hardcore section. Brett avoided the locker room entirely; he’d only spend too much time in there posing and fucking the shit out of the other members. Fuck it, he made his own rules. He decided he was a bit overdressed for his workout, and bulked up by another 100 lbs or so until the stringer tank and exposed button-fly cut-offs flew apart like wet tissue paper. But he still had to think of the other members coming too soon. From his gym bag he removed a micro mankini. It was literally a pouch with string attached. He also slipped on a cock-ring. He didn’t really need to use a cock-ring, but he liked the feeling of extra pressure as more and more blood was forced into his massive tool. The pouch of the mankini barely engulfed the fist-sized mushroom head of his dick. The entire shaft of his monster dick — with thick, dark veins pulsing with power — was exposed for all to see. Brett decided his dick could use more size, and so with a growl that would turn an attack dog’s hair pure white, he forced his dick to grow and thicken to twice its size. “Shit forgot the cock-ring,” he lamented. The titanium ring stretched to contain the even thicker ‘trunk’ of Brett’s dick. “Hmm… fuckin’ thing is holding. Can’t have that. Gotta give it more size. Hnnnnnnnghhh!!!!!” Everyone on the gym floor looked on with awe. They all knew Brett, and couldn’t believe their eyes at his command of muscle-growth. It looked like magic to them, and it was the horniest, most incredible sight they’d forever admit to witnessing. But when Brett grew his dick to the size and thickness of an average man’s leg, the cock-ring exploded. Hot metal flew in all directions. One piece took out a section of mirror behind a rack of free weights, but fortunately no one was hurt. “Hmm, need another cock-ring,” the gorgeous behemoth mused, as he started searching about for a suitable replacement. The bar from a barbell would suffice, so he picked it up, and tried to bend it into a ring. The metal fatigued a little and heated up, but it wasn’t enough. “Need more size, more strength to bend this fucker!” And so more grunting and flexing followed, and as Brett’s monster bod bulked up to even huger proportions — muscles literally gobbling up free space as they became engorged with blood and serum and inhuman power — the bar gave in with ease. He bent it in two, and then into a ring. Crude, but it would do the job. He slid it onto his monster schlong. It was a little loose. Not a problem. He hulked more size out of his dick until the cock-ring was water tight next to his veiny organ. He leaked a bucket-load of precum, which splashed about as he jiggled and twirled his monstrous member. Precum splashed onto the transfixed onlookers. Brett’s musk filled the capacious room and grown men began to lick Brett’s stink off each other. As he bulked and flexed, so the mankini became even more stringy, his gigantic balloon pecs pushing ever outward, forcing the strings to strain and grow thinner. All this happened before he lifted a single weight. By the time he even began his workout, he’d bulked up to over 800 lbs. and almost eight feet in height. He could vary the height/mass ratio to any degree. He now towered above everyone; the next biggest guy in the gym that day was only 250 or thereabouts. Brett could snap him like a twig. In fact: “Hey, mouse boy… look at you, you fucking runt. How much can you bench?” Brett teased. “Er… up… about one-eighty, Buh-Brett,” Mouse Boy stammered. He was afraid of the beautiful and most muscular man alive, but he was too horny to care. Like everyone else in the gym, ladies included, no shorts or singlets remained dry once Brett was in the room. “Buh-Brett? Is that my name, Muh-Mouse Buh-boy? Dare you stammer in my presence?” Now Brett was getting a little pissed off. He decided he didn’t need to work out, but he wanted his arrogant fun. So be it. “Sorry, Brett,” said Mouse Boy, clearing his throat. He sported a not unimpressive erection in his tight black singlet. “Hmm… put more weight on the bar, say… four hundred. Then get on the bench and use a spotter,” the giant ordered. Worriedly, Mouse Boy tried to overcome reluctance balanced with horniness. He was already sliding around on his own precum at this point. The gym stank of it. “I can’t lift that much, Brett,” he protested, glad he could contain his stammering. Brett didn’t approve of stammering. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll have a little help, heh heh,” Brett chuckled. When the spotter was in place, Mouse Boy — the heaviest bloke in the gym next to Brett — got into position on the bench and tried not to feel like a little kid again. “Now neither of you move until you get the signal. You’ll know it when you… er… feel it,” Brett said with a wink. Then he left the floor. Lots of people stood around in silence. They exchanged nervous glances. No one knew what would happen next. After what seemed like a small eternity… The gym began to shake. Just a little at first, but quickly increasing. Beneath the bench upon which Mouse Boy was nervously ensconced — with his spotter trembling behind him — the floor beneath came away with a mighty concrete crack. It began to rise, an area of about eight feet long by four wide. Below the unearthed section of floor, Brett lay flat in the basement below. His huge hands gripping the piece of floor he’d removed upon which two grown men, a bench and four hundred pounds of iron were raised as though they weighed nothing all. Mouse boy couldn’t even raise the bar. He just lay on the bench with his hands tightly gripping the bar, with his spotter clinging on for dear life. Brett hefted out twenty-four reps before relaxing the floor back into place. Masonry dust filled the air, assaulting eyes and noses alike. Brett barely got a pump. “More weight… more mouse boys get onto this section of broken floor. Now… dammit!!!!” Brett wanted to break a sweat, even a little one. But there was no end to his strength. Hell, he could bench all this weight on the end of his dick if he wanted to. Reluctantly more men gathered onto the broken section of floor. One even sat down on Mouse Boy, who was now completely horny but crying at the same time. This was so humiliating, but his lust for Brett’s beauty and power overshadowed his pride. The bar was loaded with weight until it could bear no more. Two more spotters joined in, one on either side of the first guy. The section of floor now supported a dozen men. The weight was astronomical. But Brett could do it. He took the strain. He inhaled for what seemed like a minute, his monstrous chest bulking up to inhuman proportions. He pressed upwards with his mighty arms. The floor quivered a little, but slowly it went up, and up… and up. Brett’s dick grew larger and larger. The second cock-ring heated up and stretched with extreme fatigue. Veins exploded all over Brett’s body. He grew. And he grew some more. He was fucking huge. The weight grew lighter. “More bodies… more weight,” he screamed. “Please Brett… we’re fully loaded up here,” Mouse Boy pleaded. The floor began to crumble dangerously. It felt way too light. Finally, Brett gave in and let everything fall back into place. By the time he arrived back up from the basement, he’d shrunk back to around 600 lbs. But he was still a monster. “Bill me for the fucking damage,” he told the gym manager. And then to everyone else: “You’re all my man-bitches now. From now on you don’t train to look glamorous for photo shoots. You’re all to start hardcore bodybuilding. You’ll be drinking my tit milk and spunk as your protein. I want strong man-bitches to fuck. You got that?” All the men in the gym nodded obediently. They all wanted Brett so much. And just for a treat, Brett willed himself to get even more beautiful. His eyes got bluer and larger, his nose more rugged, his jaw more angular. His lips pouted fuller and his teeth sparkled brighter. His dimples grew a little deeper and his hair shone a more scintillating blonde. His neck became manlier and his Adam’s apple grew a little more prominent. His voice deepened and became even more masculine. Then he flexed his muscles and exploded out of the micro mankini. It had stretched as thin as hair on him and his gigantic cock made short work of the pouch. Women in the gym fainted. Brett got bigger and bigger. His muscles pushed out in all directions, becoming more cut, more striated. His body shone with glistening perspiration, simply because he willed his muscles to shine. “Still want more, you fucking twigs? Want your muscle-god Brett to get even bigger and more gorgeous?” “Oh yes,” came back the chorus. Brett concentrated and configured a double biceps pose. His muscles got larger. Mountainous cannonballs shot up as his biceps climbed higher than his clenched fists. Each bicep was five times the size of his head. His pecs swelled to mammoth size. His lats pushed out on either side, gorging on free space. His waist tapered as his oblique muscles and core abs became tighter and stronger. His legs became huge, with diamond hard cuts in between rolling muscles that left his balls with no room to hang, and so they were forced outwards, themselves swelling with size and power as he willed them to fill with his powerful, godly juice. He changed to a side chest pose. His pecs grew ever outward; truly muscle-tits to the extreme. His huge nipples gushed with milk, spraying everyone close enough to fight over it. The pec striations became deeper, darker. Dark shadows gathered beneath his pec shelf, soaking up the under-swell like a creeping black slick. His abs — now a twelve-pack—partially disappeared into the shadow cast by his pecs. He flexed more and more, grunting, screaming a manly caterwaul which declared his extreme power over his muscles and all those present who lusted to touch and get lost in them. He flexed down into a most muscular. Inhuman biceps hardened and bulged with deeper veins, dimpling into his pecs on each side. Cords thick as thumbs pushed out of his tree trunk neck as he grunted and growled and demanded more size and power from his muscles. He leaned harder and harder into the pose, and by now his dick was gushing his gorgeous nectar as readily as his tit glands. Everyone present was sprayed, driven into an orgy of uncontrollable extremes. Something occurred to Brett at this point: he could will his juice to grow everyone that partook of it. And he did. His incredible body began to pump it out of his dick and tits at a phenomenal rate. This didn’t deplete him in the slightest; in fact, it had the opposite effect; goading him on and making him stronger and more productive of fluids. All the men present drank of his juice, some fighting amongst themselves for the precious muscle-building liquid. This had the desired effect. Men in the gym began to grow. And seeing them grow around him made Brett want to grow even further. Hot, muscular studs transformed around him, first becoming middleweight bodybuilders, then light-heavy, heavyweight and so on. The air filled with the sound of lustful groans and moans of sheer delight and muscle-obsession. Clothing stretched and seams came apart. Some men couldn’t take it and came over and over, their spunk adding to the copious fluids splashing around the gym. Others were able to control their transformations and Mouse Boy bulked up to almost 400 lbs. Brett noticed this and chose Mouse Boy — whose real name was Declan — as his first. Brett was three times his size and weight at this point and so Declan felt weightless to him. “Fuck me into next week, Brett. Please!” Declan’s body stopped growing and he was huge at this point, easily way bigger than Mister Olympia. His body was delicious, huge and striated, with cuts that seemed hewn from glass. Brett wasted no time bending him over a machine and spreading his legs. Declan’s hole was that of a deeply muscled bodybuilder now, sporting thick, deliciously striated glutes between which a tasty hairy and sweaty hole gasped and implored to be penetrated. Brett’s massive twenty-four-inch dick was way too big to get into that moist pipe, but the Incredibly Aesthetic Muscle-God was too embroiled in his own insane muscle-lust to make his dick smaller. He barked an order to the next two biggest bodybuilders who he knew were completely drenched in his fluids. “Feed Mouse Boy. Let him lick my juice from your hot bodies. He needs to get bigger so he can take my dick. Do it now!!! GRRRRRRRR!!!!” Brett was in the zone. He kept his dick at its current size, but once Declan started to lap the cum from the bodies thrusting before him, so his growth spurted again. Dozens of pounds of muscle burst from his body and his hole equally grew and deepened. “Yeah, keep it up. I wanna fuck Mouse Boy so bad. He’s gonna enjoy being fucked by a god!!!” Just to make sure Declan didn’t surpass him in size and power, Brett molded his pecs to make his nipples point upwards, as he had done before. Muscle milk erupted from each oversized gland and he deftly guided the flow towards his mouth. This made him more powerful, and he exploded with a massive 500 lb. growth spurt in a few seconds. His height shot up to just under twelve feet. His strength was off the scale. Declan stopped growing at 850 lbs. or thereabouts. Huge, but nowhere near Brett’s scale. But at least he could now take Brett’s dick and started pushing back in sync with Brett’s enormously powerful forward thrusts. “Aw yeah….fuuuuuuck!!!” Brett couldn’t see what was happening below his gigantic pec-shelf, but he could feel it well enough. Declan’s buttocks felt amazing; tightening around Brett’s dick like they were designed for this function and nothing else. Brett willed the veins of his dick to harden and thicken to create better friction and so heighten the pleasure for both men. The feeling was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He wanted to keep Declan at this size, but wasn’t sure if it was possible. Did he really have the ability to do so? He wasn’t sure at this point. But he fucked him and fucked him, causing him to scream out things like: “Don’t let this end!” and “Brett, you’re a fucking god. Don’t stop!” But Mouse Boy could not be greedy. Other men in the gym were still bulking up thanks to Brett’s incredible body fluids. They all had to have their turn. Without a thought for Raj back at the penthouse, Brett took them all. The fucking lasted for hours. Brett continued to grow and get stronger. But eventually, when all men lay passed out on the floor of the gym — with equipment smashed and clothing lying in tatters all around him — Brett decided to take a break. An inexorable hunger washed through him. Not quite depleted, still, he needed to pace himself. He was new to this new life and power he’d been given. He had to explore it to discover the full range of his abilities. But he needed to eat. So, he shrank back to 500 lbs. and headed in to take a shower. Part Four: The Apology and So Much Growth A week passed, during which the smell of spunk in the penthouse of Brett Hillard never seemed to lessen with the passage of time. You only had to step into the capacious muscle-den to get horny enough to come all over the place, further adding to the compelling reek. But Brett was meticulous about such things and no drop of jizz was ever wasted. (except that one time, when he shot gout after gout of it out over the cityscape). Brett had a lot of growing to do, as did his man-bitches. Declan the Mouse Boy (oh how he hated that moniker) had been evicted from his apartment because he failed to meet the rent due to spending all his dosh on bodybuilding supplements. Brett let him stay at the penthouse until he could find another apartment with a landlord that wasn’t a dick. He even lent him some money to help him get out of a bind. Pete — or Chef Guy — continued to provide all the delicious meals a growing bodybuilder needed to get huge (and even ‘huger’). He liked pleasing the Muscle-God. Now he also had to cater to Declan’s food requirements. This wasn’t really a problem. All Declan ate was pasta bakes loaded with Brett’s ambrosial fluids, as well as the non-exhaustive chugging of gainer shakes. He worked out near-incessantly in the penthouse gym, always striving to better himself and grow for his mentor. He saw Brett as his mentor, although the Muscle-God didn’t really see himself in that role. He was too self-obsessed to ever spend time helping a lesser bodybuilder to get huge. All things considered, Declan seemed to be doing quite well. So much so, Brett would sometimes reward him by fucking him full of his amazing fluids. Pity the growth that ensued never stuck for more than an hour or so. Raj was feeling left out. One night in the sack, snuggled up next to the giant Adonis he said, “Are we officially a couple?” There was an earnest tone in Raj’s question. The bed creaked noisily as the 600 lb. muscle-monster rolled onto one enormous side to better address his boyfriend’s query. “Of course, we are. Isn’t it plain to see, little guy?” Brett had been calling Raj ‘little guy’ for several days. This was an upgrade from the ‘man-bitch’ status he reserved for all his fuck-buddies. “Yes, but… I don’t know, Brett. I seem to be drowning in muscle, of late.” “But you like being engulfed in all my amazing muscles… don’t you?” A hint of doubt rang from his tone, even as his humongous muscles twitched and flexed as he caressed his beautiful boyfriend. “Yes of course… but I thought we could have this place to ourselves. Pete is fine; we need him for our meals… but Declan living here, too?” Raj trailed off with an exhalation peppered with despair. “But we hardly see him, honey,” said Brett. He’d never called Raj ‘honey’ before. It felt like old married couple shit. Still, upon hearing it Raj’s eyes brightened a little. Seeing the tender side of Brett — however brief — was always nice. Brett went on: “This penthouse is huge. He practically lives and sleeps in the gym, only coming out for meals. We barely see him for more than a few minutes a day. His lust for growth is impressive.” “What about us? I know we haven’t been together that long, but we haven’t even been on a proper date. I’d love you to take me to a fancy restaurant and be romantic instead of always being cocky and self-obsessed.” Raj frowned with a little wetness in each eye. Brett got out of bed and flicked on a light. He was huge and naked standing over the bed. Raj got hard in a trice. “Brett not now. I’m too tired for sex. And a bit sore from the last pounding you gave me.” “Maybe if I hulk up to my biggest size ever, you’ll cheer up. Plus, we’ll go on a date tomorrow. I promise. I love you, Raj. Mouse Boy is just for fucking. I don’t have feelings for him. I’m just turned on by how much he wants to grow. But he’ll never be like this!” That was his cue to launch into a massive double biceps. Brett’s muscles snapped obediently into monstrous relief. Veins exploded all over his upper body as they fed his amazing serum-infused blood into every muscle-fiber. Then the fibers divided and thickened, resulting in more growth. He pumped up… impossibly huge. Growling seemed to help the process along. Brett dropped his arms and formed into a full lat spread. His lats flared wide and his pecs heaved upward, expanding… always expanding. Striations, dark and deep, cracked across his amazing muscle-tits. His cock slapped against his cobbled midsection with a loud, moist thump. Raj intermittently forgot about his woe and began to furiously beat his meat as his huge boyfriend got huger and huger before his eyes. Brett grew bigger and even more beautiful. His power was endlessly flexible; he could change his size at will whilst keeping the improvements to his face as the power applied them. His face just got more and more handsome, ruggedly so. His masculine lines knew no limits. His dimples developed dimples. His muscles enlarged to insane proportions. He changed his upwardly-curving giant dick to a downwardly-sloping one. It began to pour with precum. “Wanna drink and get huge, my love?” Raj groaned in bed and shot a premature load, much to their mutual dismay. The tacky fluid landed across Raj’s toned, naturally tanned chest. With just a little patch of dark hair between his somewhat unflattering pecs, Brett leaned down to lick up every drop, not wishing to waste the protein. It was also an expression of his love. “Take me on a date… then you can make me huge, darling,” Raj said, almost imploringly. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. It could only be Declan, as Pete was an employee of Brett’s and would never disturb them after hours. “What do you want, Mouse?” Brett’s voice was guttural and pissed-off sounding. “I smell come. Not the usual smell in the penthouse. Fresh stuff. I want some… please!” On the other side of the door, Declan sounded desperate. Brett thought about it for a second. Then: “Well now, Raj has already shot his load, which I licked to the last drop. So, you’re smelling my fresh precum. That’s what brought you here. You really can’t help yourself, can you, my little 300-pounder?” “I need to gorge on your fluids, and to become a massive bodybuilder… I need to grow,” Declan pleaded. “But your growth won’t stick. It’ll melt away like snow on a wet pavement before long,” Raj reminded the muscled interloper, almost relishing the prospect. He didn’t dislike Declan by any stretch; he just didn’t like him interrupting them during their intimate ‘boyfriend’ time. “So, what if it does? I can go back to the gym with my exaggerated muscles and pump iron so much, I’ll be snorting so much iron and sweat, I’ll choke.” Brett thought about it. Then: “He has been growing like a weed this past week. Even though his growth from my spunk and tit-milk is temporary, it’s helping him to build his body in the conventional sense. Raj, you should jot that one down in your observational notes for Doctor Weiss.” “Yes, I guess I should. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it, Brett!” Raj got out of bed and angrily stomped off to get his notes. “I’m too lusted-up to care about your feelings right now, Raj. Sorry if I hurt them though.” He didn’t sound like he’d meant it. And that was that for the night. Raj would sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. But for now: “I’m ballooning in size, Mouse Boy. Making my fluids nice and potent for you, heh heh!” Declan now lay on the come-sodden bed, with the giant Muscle-God casting a dark shadow over him. Brett’s now downwardly-sloping mega-cock streamed precum. Declan drank from it as though it were a faucet, gulping down the fluid as readily as Brett’s body could produce it. Whilst this went on below, Brett blew up his pecs so monstrously, they pushed his chin and head back to take up more room. His grew his nipples to dick-size and caused a torrential shower of tit-milk to rain down on Declan. The ‘not-such-a-Mouse-Boy-anymore’ stroked his own dick furiously, which triggered his growth and he began to get huge. “Holy shit, I feel a huge growth spurt coming on. Bigger than back at the gym when we first met!” Declan’s speech was broken up between the gurgles he made while gorging on Brett’s fluids, as well as his gasps of sheer muscle-lust and absolute bliss. “Keep going, Mouse Boy… get huge for Br—” Before he could finish: “DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT. GRRRRRRRR!” Declan exploded with rage. Drenched with Brett’s fluids, his growth was immense, and instant. Many hundreds of pounds of masculine muscle blasted out of his frame; in places his skin stretched painfully, resulting in red stretch marks that just barely avoided tearing. The bed collapsed under the weight of a 1000+ lb. behemoth who was drunk with power and the will to grow even larger. Despite his size, he moved with lightning speed, connecting a solid fist to the middle of Brett’s mammoth chest. The rock-hard pecs took much of the force, but enough remained to send Brett careening across the bedroom. He crashed into the wall with enough force to bring masonry down from above. Declan loomed over him, heaving with rage. “Who’s the Mouse Boy now, Brett?” Declan formed a massive double biceps, flaring his lats and swelling his pec-meats. His upper body exploded with mass and definition. The cuts between his muscles were deep and dark, and his body glistened with a sweaty sheen caused by the exertion of his growth. Then he did a full lat spread so immense, the bottom half of his face was swallowed up by pecs way larger than any Brett had ever sported. From across the room, in an open doorway, Raj caught it all on his camera phone. He was excited and terrified all at once, but scientific curiosity became the dominant emotion here, although he held the camera in shaky hands. “I’m suh-sorry, Declan,” Brett panted, clearly taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. He’d never been in a situation like this, in which he felt somewhat helpless. He somehow had to turn this to his advantage. “Can’t you see that you’re not always in control of your fate, Brett?” Declan was continuing to swell with size. His muscularity was immense. He’d easily passed 1200 lbs. in less than a minute, with no sign of slowing down. The more he flexed, the more his muscles liked it, and responded by growing larger, thicker, and more cut. His head scraped the ceiling of the room, and so he had to stoop. His dick was almost the size of a whole man, and it slammed repeatedly against his gigantic pecs as it twitched and spurted further growth. Despite being genuinely scared, the concentration of muscle musk in the room was now so great, that both men were stimulated by it. Brett was growing, but at a slower rate to Declan, who outmuscled him by 500+ lbs. It was then that Brett’s advantage came: “Fuck me, Declan. I’ll be your Mouse Boy for a change. You need to channel that rage into something, before you lose complete control.” Brett slowly got to his feet and offered his hole to Declan. The huge muscle-beast, also overcome with lust, couldn’t ignore such a tasty offer, and so he took Brett there and then, screwing him with his inhumanly massive come-pole. Brett’s strength was barely enough to push back sufficiently, but he just about managed it. Declan, about to lose all control over this temporary burst of power, drilled into Brett repeatedly, his massive shaft pummeling Brett’s muscle-ass enough to almost cause it to prolapse. Simultaneously, bent forward, Brett clamped his dick in between his mighty pecs and began drinking his own precum. He knew that when he blew his load proper, he’d need the extra energy to get the jump on Declan and finally regain control. Declan, not too experienced in fucking, came massively and sooner than he’d have liked. He pumped liter upon liter of his thick crème into his ‘mentor’ whose body drank it up like a sponge. This excited Brett’s serum-infused blood, and so his altered testosterone began coursing through him like never before. He came in his own mouth, and gallons of super-charged come torrented into his system, half of which was his own recycled stuff. Declan started to weaken and lose mass, gradually at first, but then the process accelerated. Brett didn’t grow, but willed his incredible body to become denser, and stronger because of it. All that charged come was absorbed into every cell in his body, and in his mind, he knew that he’d just become way more powerful than Doctor Weiss could ever have imagined. After about a minute, Declan was back to his 300 lb. self. He was exhausted, and collapsed into Brett’s arms, who then took him to a guest bedroom to recover. Brett shrank down to 750 lbs., but when he tried to get back to 600, he found that he couldn’t. “Wow, this must be my new default weight,” he marveled, catching himself in his mirrored sliding wardrobes that spanned an entire wall of his bedroom. Raj, naked and horny, went to his huge boyfriend, and felt even less of a man, now that Brett was even bigger. He was 6’8”, now, and his muscles were heaving and huge. He playfully bounced his pecs and they felt weighty and laborious to move. It was an awesome feeling, as though his muscles demanded that he grow stronger in order to exploit them to their fullest. “I’m so sorry about earlier, Raj. I was a jerk not to consider your feelings. Will you accept my apology?” Brett picked up Raj and before he could kiss him Raj said softly and sincerely: “Yes, of course. I love you, and maybe we rushed into this. But I’m still on the clock with Doctor Weiss’s research, so it’s a crazy volatile situation in which we’re both embroiled. We should expect the unexpected. I got it all on cam for Weiss. I hope you don’t mind.” “Of course, I don’t. You can put in on YouTube for all I care, although I expect it’d be flagged in a heartbeat.” “But I don’t want to try growing, myself. Not yet. Not until we know more about it. You might be able to control your growth and the lust it invokes, but lesser men? Declan couldn’t control himself. Had you not retaken control he might have exploded.” Brett nodded in agreement, lost in thought for a moment. Then, in a complete change of subject: “I’m taking you to the fanciest, most expensive restaurant in town tomorrow. So, we’d best get our glad rags on.” “Hmm,” began Raj, looking more contemplative than usual. He went through Brett’s vast clothing collection in the sprawling wardrobe. “Most of your clothes are stretchy, but you’re now many sizes too big for even your most accommodating garment. Can’t you de-hulk back to 600? Try it again. Really concentrate this time.” Brett did just that. But it was no good. He couldn’t get smaller than 750. His dick was larger, too. Secretly both men relished the fact that Brett’s new default size was much greater than before. But what about clothing? They spent two hours alone seeing Brett try on shirt after shirt. Some of them buttoned from the chest down, but none of them could close across his mighty mega-pecs. Other shirts of slightly lesser quality would blow apart at the shoulder seam, or at the biceps, as soon as he moved or twitched a muscle. It was fun for a while, bursting out of shirt after shirt. Likewise, pants were no joy. He couldn't even get a pair to go past his calves, let alone go up his gargantuan thighs. Eventually: “I doubt they’ll let a naked massive bodybuilder into their restaurant, no matter how much I bribe them. I’d really like to get dressed up for you, though. Something about clothing these massive muscles and being seen in public wearing clothes that barely leave anything to the imagination is quite the turn-on. For us both, no?” Raj agreed. And so did his boner. “Time to let my money do the talking. He reached for a phone and dialed the number for his personal clothier, Fortunato of the House of Trione, an Italian designer who only made clothing for muscled men and serious bodybuilders. Brett Hillard was a client, but he was now his BIGGEST client. Fortunato would have his work cut out, that was for sure. Brett had wakened the designer in the middle of the night. He didn’t sound pleased to be awakened from sleep, but Brett was succinct about his needs. “I’ve grown huge. Make me a new ensemble, and I want it ready by late afternoon tomorrow. I’ll quadruple your fee if you and your minions work through the night, plus I’ll throw in a yacht.” “Buh-but, it is so late, Brett darling. And I’d need to take multiple measu—” “I’ll laser scan myself and email you the measurements. I’m fucking huge now, and you’d better do a good job, or no yacht,” Brett interjected sharply. Fortunato really wanted a yacht. And so, he agreed to snap right to it and get to work making new clothes for the world’s hugest bodybuilder. *** At 3:45 pm the next day, the concierge buzzed up to the penthouse to inform its resident that a rack of clothes had arrived and that he would send them up. Brett was excited. His old clothes lay in tatters in his bedroom, and as penance for his behavior of the night before, he made Declan clean them up. Anything intact he could keep, which delighted Declan no end, as plenty of clothes remained that were now his for the taking. He was growing like a weed, and Brett’s cast-offs still reeked of his musk. Not only would Declan look amazing wearing designer couture for huge bodybuilders, but the smell would also keep him fluffed and lusty near-constantly. Raj went through some of the outfits on the rack and looked uncertain about some of them. “I think he gave you some room to grow, darling,” he said after a short examination. But the clothing was of the finest quality, even at such short notice. There were shirts and pants made of sumptuous fabrics — the best money can buy — all varied lengths and cuts, most of which were constructed so that they would flatter every delicious curve and bulge on Brett’s magnificent body. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll grow into them, heh heh!” Brett guzzled through a huge bowl of ice cream as he spoke. He didn’t have to worry about spoiling his appetite for dinner later. He rarely felt full, and he’d have to eat several more bowls before he came near to feeling that he’d ruined his appetite. The End