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  1. Hello, this is my sequel to "My Boyfriend Made Me Huge", this time focusing of Eric. Since that was my first story I kept it short, both in word count and in time, but I want Eric's growth to be longer and more incremental now that I have some better writing experience. That being said there is no real growth in this first part, just setting the stage. Additionally, you should know that while Justin's story was purely a gay fantasy, Eric's will be bisexually orientated. And for anyone wondering, the growth powder in this story is inspired by the "Collage Supplemented" story by Bigger4Me (if you're into elements of humiliation, definitely give that a read), while I'm sure such a substance/plot device is not original on a site like this, it should be stated. My Boyfriend Made Me Huge ( https://musclegrowth.co/topic/21908-my-boyfriend-made-me-huge-part-3-added-2721/ ) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Prelude Have you ever felt trapped in your body? Like you really lost big on the genetic lottery? Because that's me... or at least it was me. At 5'6" if I stretched, 110lbs wet, and 3" prick I was left cursed with the body of a weakling. I wasn't even good looking either, a deviated septum left me a bent nose that was hard the breath with, my eyesight was bad, and the only thing a short lived puberty ever gave me in abundance, was acne. Then in my Sophomore year at college, after years of bad luck, a miracle happened. At lunch one day I was visited by an angel, only on second glance it wasn't, it was my study partner Justin, only he had …changed. While previously he was of average height, decent build, with brown eyes, he sat before me a tall, muscular, blue eyed hunk. It was everything I'd ever wanted to be, and he'd promised to tell me how he'd done it, he promised to do that to me! I didn't see him for a week (one filled with anxiety and anticipation), but he had texted me. He asked all sorts of odd questions, current height and weight, my blood type... my favorite eye color (green). He insisted that all of this would be necessary to know in order to make me grow, he instructed me to wait out the week, and find him at the weight room on Monday afternoon. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hunk In Progress, Part 1 I immediately felt out of place at the weight room, the smell of sweat, the loud clanging, everything was so unnerving. Everyone was huge compared to me too! Don't get me wrong, I loved seeing a well muscled guy as much as anyone else (that isn't straight that is), but everywhere I turned lumbered busy giants who threatened to step on me. I had never really worked out a day in my life, I didn't even know what I'd do, I was too nervous to talk to anyone so I just stood there like an idiot. It was about then that I began to chicken out when the ground shook, and I was suddenly enveloped by a large shadow. Whirling around I was stunned at the towering form before me, I didn't know If I should be terrified or not but I was definitely aroused. Standing before me had to be the tallest man I've ever seen, bulging from well tailored gym clothes were muscles befitting a titan, I could count the bricks of his ten pack, and when he moved the striations of his musculature rippled with power. Affixed in a masculine, square jawed face (sculped by the gods no doubt), had the be the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen. Although I admit it was hard to maintain eye contact, for snaking down the right leg of his sweatpants was a monster cock that probably put my forearm to shame. The Adonis easily outdid both supermodels and porn stars in every category. For a moment I was almost relieved my dick was so well concealed by it's size. "Are you ready to get huge man?" His voice rumbled in a deep masculine tone. "I... I'mma... you... wha... who?" "Heh, sorry little guy..." He said taking a knee, "Not too many people can recognize me anymore." "Ju... Justin! Oh my god your enormous!" "Just you wait man..." now beginning to flex a most muscular that threatened to tear away the fabric of his shirt, "I think you'd like the size yourself." "H... how... how did" "My ah... boyfriend made me huge", and gave a smile that threatened to make me cum. "And... and I could really get this big too?" The sheer thought of obtaining those looks...that much POWER. I started to get excited, I needed it! "Bigger and better..." he said rising again to his full height, "c'mon I want to show you something." Justin had started to stride toward the locker room, to enter he put his hand under the top of the frame and ducked through. This guy had to be 7' or taller. He waved me over to a more private area, started digging through a bag, pulled out a large white jar and started talking again. "As I was saying my boyfriend did this to me, you've met Logan right?" "Uh, yeah? A little taller than me, good looking, pretty smart guy. A Chem major right?" "Oh yeah, really smart, but he isn't so short anymore. Anyway he made this..." now holding out the nondescript white jar, "Unfortunately it isn't the fast acting stuff I got, but its the best I can get you." "Oh man, uh wow, I mean... can I ask you question", I said looking up at the giant. "Shoot." "Why are you doing this... why do you care?" "Well... I've seen how people look at you. Or rather, don't look at you. I was already good looking to start off, people like you deserve this more. You do ...want this right?" "Want this? Oh man, your more than I've ever dreamed of being. Um say... could I uh... feel?" "Ha, sure man! Say, you're gonna love being this big." The colossus sat down on the bench, raised his long arms, and flexed two enormous biceps. I ran hands across them, feeling his rock solid muscle, With both hands I couldn't even hope to reach around his arm. This was the closest I've gotten to sex in my left and it was great. As I lost myself in his size the gravity of the situation started to down on me. My whole life I've spent being a shrimp, now if this stuff worked I was going to get as big as this guy, maybe bigger... ascend to godhood! This was going to be great! "I could sit here doing this all day..." hands now running across his incredible abs, "But I think I can't wait to get this big myself, how does it work?" "Yeah, here is where the fun begins! Alright you need three things, the powder, exercise, and lots of food. Don't mix up too much of it though, it will go to waste. Here I already got some ready for you." He took out a water bottle, evidently mixed with whatever substance was in the jar. It had a green coloration that swirled as he gave it a powerful shake. Justin handed it to me and I gave it a sip. It tasted like lime mixed with one or two things that are hard to describe, very strong, and very good. It had a real kick as it went down. "Feel any different Eric?" I looked down at myself, I knew it it wasn't going to turn me into the incredible hulk or an anything, but I expected more. "I don't know, jittery? Fuck actually real jittery" "Alright man, lets go lift!" Justin began showing me how to lift and use the machines. I don't know if it was because all eyes were on him, or I was just overreacting earlier, but I felt much more confident being there. On the bench press I could barely get the 45lb bar up the first time though. I wanted to quit but Justin urged me to continue, the second attempt went up much easier than the first, and the third practically felt light. I maxed out at 95lbs, which Justin informed was great for someone my size. As I lifted more, and had more of that mixture I felt angry, I could feel the blood running through my veins. It felt good to blow off stress and exert myself, and kind of fun to see how far I could push myself. Before we called it quits I ended up deadlifting 160, and 55lbs with a barbell curl. by the end I was panting and slick with sweat. I thought that was amazing, but after each set I stood ogling at Justin as he loaded up more plates on the bar than I could easily count. Watching his muscles work was like porn, but It didn't even look like it was heavy to him! "How do you feel bro?" He asked. "I donno man, fucking..." "Pumped?" "Yeah, Pumped!" "Good, end every session like that. Alright, lets get showered and pack in the protein!" By the time we got to the dining hall I felt my stomach knot, I was starving! That being said Justin loaded up my tray with more chicken, mashed potatoes, and broccoli than I could eat in a few days. I started eating and just kept eating, I wondered where it could possibly all be going after a while. Justin reassured me I wasn't going to get fat, in fact he laughed it off and just said I can't get fat. Now done eating, Justin lead me to the parking lot just a little walk away from the cafeteria. He caught me staring at the rhythmic flexing of his muscular ass but didn't seem to mind, he walked liked he owned the world. "This is it" he said. We had weaved around several cars and arrived in front of an expensive open top red Lamborgini, waxed to a shine. In the passenger seat would have be the hottest man I've ever seen had I not met Justin. A little shorter than Justin (although he must have been well over my height), he wore a tight red polo that hugged his well muscled body, and had a face and smile to die for. He looked up from his phone and said. "Hey beefcake how was the workout, and is this Eric?" "Yup, this is the hunk in coming" "Wait... Loga.." Still in a state of shock, Justin waved me over to the trunk and opened it. Inside was an old fashioned briefcase with a lock on it. "What, you have the nuclear football as well?" "Ha no, here the combination is 588930, open it." I did so, inside was a small mirror, a tape measure, and a gold themed debit card paper clipped to some sheets with banking information. I skimmed over it, and found the pin, routing number, and such. I looked over the next page, it was a bank statement and my jaw dropped, this card had $1,500,000 dollars on it! "You you you, you shouldn't have let me see your..." "Your card." "Huh?!?" I felt faint, none of this could be real, I had to be dreaming! Dreaming that's it, someone must have knocked into me at the gym earlier, I was sleeping peacefully on the ground somewhere. I pinched my arm and felt pain... I felt pain! "Whoa Whoa Whoa there little guy..." Justin had caught me by the arm, "you look pretty pale." A voice called from the car, "I told you he wasn't going to take it easy!" "This is all so much, I think I need to sit down" "Here let me get you some water, can I drive you to your dorm?" "Uh, yeah, that would be great" I said and took a sip. After a moment Justin scooped me up and put me in the car. It was a two sweater so I sat in the lap of the passenger (Logan?). His ample chest made a comfortable pillow, I could feel his rock solid abs running down my spine. But, most pleasurably, between the cheeks of my ass I could feel his fat bulge pressing into me. No, this wasn't a dream, this was heaven! I gave Justin directions to the dorm as we started to talk again. Logan wrapped his muscular arms around me as a seatbelt as we went. "Ah guys really, making me huge is one thing, but this money..." "We're rolling in it, don't worry. Plus you're gonna need that to upgrade your style when you grow out of those clothes. No offence, but your really capitalizing on the geekyness." "None taken. Um say, how did all of this happen, how does this stuff you made work?" Logan spoke in a much deeper voice than I remembered, "Without going into all the... geekyness, I found a simple chemical process of manipulating genetic makeup, its really quite remarkable nobody has found it yet. And now with a patent, I'm the only one who can produce the stuff, its going to change the world you know." "A world full of hunky musclemen?" "More than that! No more disease, no more aging, everyone could be what they want, if only I could make it cheaper." "That sounds... Whoa, wait, you guys can drop me off here!" "At the back? Are you sure?" "Yeah, my room isn't like the rest." "Suit yourself, and... enjoy yourself too!" "Uh yeah, thanks!" Justin handed me the growth powder jar, and the briefcase. Still not quite believing what just happened I watched the two speed off campus before walking to the maintenance door at the back of the building. My room was not like the others. The collage thought it could make a buck off half heartedly converting an unused store closet (located next to the furnace room) into an additional dorm. It was not legally big enough to house two students, so I was left on my own. The walls were made of concreate and the only pieces of furniture were my bunk bed, rug, and desk. I decided to unpack, put the card in my wallet, the powder under the bed, and hid away the briefcase between the lower mattress and the wall, as well as hanging up the small mirror. I paused as to what to do with the tape measure, but decided if I was going to grow, I should make a height log. I dug out a small piece of chalk from my drawer and made my best straight line up the concrete wall. Holding a textbook on top of my head and flush to the wall I made a horizontal mark on the wall and measured it. 5'6" on the dot... that's a quarter inch taller than before! Then my phone alarm went off and I knew it was time to see the one good thing this room provided. You see if I climbed the bunkbed, peered out the window, and looked down the slope flanking the back of the building I could see into the windows of the school pool. And right at 7:00, the hottest girl on campus went in for a dip, Emma Clark. I have to admit, it was pretty creepy, but when you're a sex starved virgin you do these things. I watched as she got in and out of the pool, water pouring down the her curves, dripping off the tips of her large breasts, damn that was hot. Too bad her boyfriend was such a complete asshole, even worse that he was just as hot in his own masculine way. On multiple occasions he had purposefully pushed passed me, called me a dork, did he think he was still in high school?!? Of course I had a crush on him too, Luke was just too damn big and muscular not to be admired! But I could get bigger... Too be continued...
  2. This story is a conversion of an old RP I did with a friend, @jsmith230. It was one of my favorite RPs so I thought I would convert it and share. While my first preference is muscle growth with a secondary love of height growth, you could say his preferences are the inverse of mine. So that will give you a hint of what this story will entail. Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13 *************************************************************************** Elongro “Dude, have you heard of that new 'Elongro' drug? I have to get my hands on it. I want to get huge this year!” Seth rolls his eyes as he listens to Trevor ramble on about the new miracle drug that has been making a splash among the young adult community worldwide. Trevor and Seth are college roommates and best buddies currently in their second year of college. The two were paired up as dormmates during Freshman year and their friendship blossomed from there. Both 19 years old, the two share a small apartment just off campus. To the outsider, Trevor is the alpha of the friendship, much more confident, outgoing and outspoken than his counterpart. He has always been very athletic and since coming to college has fully invested his free time into fitness and working out. He's obsessed with trying to put on mass and is always trying the latest supplements, pills and powders, along with constantly reading articles on new exercises programs to try. He has built himself up to a nice, ripped, 185 lbs on a 5’10.5 frame. His body fat hovers around 10-12% and he sports a nice 6-pack. But, like any true wannabe bodybuilder, it wasn't, deep down he wanted more. Much more. Seth is Trevor's roommate and while he also has a natural athleticism to him, he hasn't pursued it nearly to the degree that Trevor has, though few people could really say that. Some of the reason behind this is that Seth always felt just a bit too small to ever have great success in sports. He was one of those people who were content to be good enough to make the high school baseball team though he only saw limited playing time. Since college began, Seth exercised a couple times a week, mainly by just jogging, leaving him with a naturally slim and toned 145 lbs on his 5’8 body. The pair were pursuing business degrees although Trevor wasn't quite sold on the idea after his first year. While Seth fully intends to pursue a sales and marketing career, Trevor has considered switching to a more body-centric physical therapy program that would work well in parallel with his pursuit of fitness excellence. What currently has Trevor excited is the discovery of a new drug that offered an exciting possibility. Within the past year, a new compound was developed and released in Korea that is commonly known as “Elongro”. It's use had begun to spread across the developed world. However, due the USA’s overly strict drug testing protocol, the drug is still not legally available in the USA though it is available in most of Asia, Europe and Canada. The drug has caused excitement for people who are small in stature, either height or build. What the drug does is that it basically freezes a young adult growth rate, including hormonal levels, where that rate might be starting to wane. Along with enhancing the sex characteristics, it also keeps their growth plates open for an extended amount of time, allowing an individual to continue to grow for much longer than they normally would. Seth shakes his head as he listens to his roommate explain the drug. “What that means, Seth, is that if you naturally had, say, one more month of growth before your plates fused, you might keep growing at the same rate for another 2-3 months instead with Elongro. But, just think, if you were in the middle of a big growth spurt and originally had many months, or year left, you could potential retain that growth rate for a few more years! Isn't that awesome!” “Uh huh. Sure man. Sounds cool man,” Seth replied cooly. “Sounds a bit too good to be true, really.” “Well, it's not perfect, you're right.” Trevor pulls up his phone to read the details of the drug from the website he'd been researching. “The major drawback of the drug is that it has been shown to cause devastating side effects if a person is still showing any signs of puberty. Most humans complete puberty by the time they are 16 or 17 but keep growing in size for another 1 to 4 years. Because of this risk, most countries that allow the sale of the drug ban it from being used on any person under the age of 19. Also, the drug will not work if a person’s growth plates have already fused, which for many people has already occurred by the time they are 19. Thus, the window for success for the drug is very limited, if open at all. The reports say that only about one-quarter of the people who try to drug experience any results.” Trevor looks away from his phone at his disinterested roommate, but his own excitement cannot be interrupted and he keeps scrolling through the information showing on his phone. “For those that it does work, though, the results have been significant! Bro, this website says there are online rumors from the drug’s testing phase of people putting on 40-50 lbs of muscle and growing up to 6 to 8 inches taller well into their 20s! Shit dude, that would ROCK! I read that for those who are lucky enough to still be growing, the average success rate has been 15 lbs and 2-3 inches over an additional 6 months to 1 year of growing. I would give anything to put on some more size like that! My training has really stalled lately.” “That is pretty sweet, Trev. But you said it yourself, it may not even work. If you've finished your natural growth you're S.O.L.” Trevor huffs as Seth downplays Elongro. Tervor can't help but imagine the possibilities. Though he never mentioned it, while focused on growing his muscles, he secretly always wanted to be taller as well. He hadn't told Seth, but he had already started the process of obtaining the Elongro. He had already set up a quick weekend trip to Canada where a close friend was to obtain a prescription and then supply him with a vial of Elongro. He's aware of the illegality but the chance to put on some size even if it's just a few pounds or an inch in height, is too much to pass up. Because of the drug’s scarcity and the fact he has to obtain it illegally, it will cost Trevor over $1200, a huge amount for a poor college kid. “Seth, from my doctor’s appointment this summer I found out that I had grown another ½” to my current 5’10-1/2 height. So I'm positive I'm on my final growth spurt! I just KNOW it will work. But I got to get started soon before my growth stops.” “Ok, man, whatever. Man, you really are obsessed with size. You've got that dysmorphia thing, haha. I men, you are already jacked, you should be happy.” “Never big enough, bro!” the handsome stud chuckled in reply. “So how does it work? Is it a pill or something?” “Naw, it's an injection. It works from just one single injection. Each vial contain enough liquid for 5 injections, even though only one is needed. This is where you come in, bro!” “Me? What for?” “Well, the thing is, this shit is really expensive. And, like I said you only need one injection, but each vial has enough for five injections. So, I wanted to ask, If I get the Elongro, could I sell you an injection too? It would help me out and I would appreciate it. My girlfriend already said she'd take one of the injections too. Help a brother out, it's fuckin' expensive stuff. I'm not even asking for the full price of a dose, just $200 to help me cover.” “C'mon Trev, don't ask me that. I don't... Man, I don’t think I’ve grown in a couple of years, it would most likely be a waste on me.” “But, Bro, even if you had the slimmest chance to be just a little taller and stronger, wouldn’t you want to take it?” Trevor tries his best to pitch the idea. Seth rebuffs his approaches but he knows what will get Seth on board. “Hey, you know that girl that works at the rec center you’ve been crushing of the past year? Remember how you told me you overheard her talking with her friends that she said she would never date a guy under 5’10 and 175 lbs? She says that because she's pretty tall for a girl, like 5'9 or so. Just think, buddy! If you put some size maybe she’ll give you a second look!” Trevor sees the gears turning in Seth's head. He still seems unconvinced but he can tell he's touched a nerve. “C’mon man, you always told me how you felt like you were too small in high school to be one of the jocks on campus even though you were on the baseball team. This could be your chance to put on some size and least be average height. Wouldn’t you want that, little buddy?” Trevor tosses in ‘little buddy’ because he knows Seth hates when bigger dudes call him that. And that seals the deal. “Ugh. Fine, bro. Whatever," he says with annoyed defeat. "And hey, I’m way past puberty so there’s no risk, right? Other than I’ll be out $200." “That’s the spirit, pal! I promise this will be worth the investment!” * Seth walks to his room to collect the cash. He can't help but shake his head at Trevor's crazy antics. "This stuff is never going to work on me," he says to himself. But, knowing how into this Trevor is he knows that the right thing to do is to support his roomie and at least give it a try. Plus, that way when it doesn't work, he can hold that over his head! Or at least Trev will give it up and move onto something different, just like he always does. The following weekend Trevor makes five hour drive up North to Canada. Upon his return he excitedly enters their apartment and makes himself known. That night, the two friends administer the shot. They both have it their our heads that the effect would be immediate, even though all of the documentation says they won't know right away whether or not it works. But the placebo effect is very real those first few days and it drives the two crazy not knowing for sure if they will see an impact, but the excitement builds. That night Seth dream of growing taller, standing over guys who always made fun of his short height and pushing his skinny body around... being seen as tall... growing again... finally becoming the man he'd always wanted to be. Not being relegated to playing right field in baseball having never hit a home run. All those guys looking down at Seth! He jolts awake and realizes his dick is tenting the sheets. Even though he was skeptical at first, he can't help but think how deep down he must want this injection to work. How badly he needs to become bigger and stronger. He chuckles, knowing how slim the odds are and fades back to sleep. After the first few days of no noticeable changes the two both act as if nothing has happened. Although they both seem to be constantly checking themselves against the heights of familiar landmarks and people, including each other. Inside Trevor is still stoked, convinced that he will reap significant gains. Knowing that Seth hasn't grown upwards in years, he knows it likely won't work for his friend, but he was happy he at least he got $200 out of Seth. Truthfully, Trevor loved having Seth as his roommate. Not only from a personality standpoint, but he loved being the bigger and more dominant man compared to Seth. It was nothing against Seth, it just fed well into Trevor's desire to get bigger and build up his physique. Whenever they went out, Seth always demurred to Trevor when choosing which movies to watch, with parties to go to, what girls to hang with. Trevor was the alpha apparent. Two weeks after the injections the two are eating dinner and Trevor notices Seth is wolfing down a ton of food. "Hungry, there Seth?" "Dude," he says between mouthfuls of grilled chicken, "I can't remember the last time I was this hungry. I just can't get to feeling full lately... it's so weird..." Trevor chuckles as he watches Seth go back to finishing his chicken before starting on some brats. Trevor shakes his head, teasing Seth that “the freshman 15 is real, just delayed for you" before getting up to do the dishes. A bit later the two are hanging out watching TV and chatting about classes and wanting to catch the new Spiderman movie. Seth rubs his full round belly and ponders, pausing, before finally asking his roomie a surprising question. "Have you been making any gains in the gym? I was thinking rather than just running maybe I would try lifting some." Trevor is taken off guard. He knew Seth never went to the rec center other than to run, and certainly never made his way into the weight room. "I was thinking... maybe... I could like... join you sometime?" While Seth has managed to stay relatively thin, having a fitness obsessed roommate might be starting to rub off on him a bit. "Its just, with how I've been eating... maybe I should," he jokes. "I'll get fat if I keep eating like this. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to have a bit more muscle for the ladies... maybe get some attention for once. It seems to have worked out well for you!" "Hell yeah buddy! I would love to be your training partner. Hell, I was thinking I might want to make a career out of it in the future, either personal training or physical therapy. I'd love to show you the ropes, you could be my first client! But, don't worry, little buddy, I won't charge you." Seth's face tightens at the words 'little buddy' and Trevor instantly feels bad. "Er...sorry, Seth. But yeah, even though you haven't been lifting I can tell you are a little bit thicker lately, just from all the food you've been eating. I'm still making gains, but it's slow going." The next day Trevor takes Seth to the gym for his first weightlifting workout. Seth marvels at the poundages that Trevor buddy can lift. Trevor boasts that he can bench 225 lbs ten times and Seth seems to be in shock when he performs the feat. On his turn, Seth can barely do 135 lbs five times. He is disappointed but his new trainer props him up. "Hey, dude, honestly that's a great weight, especially for your first workout. When I started I couldn't even bench 95 lbs once!" Seth perks up at that. As the two leave the weight room Seth notices the hot girl at the towel desk, Stacy. He is understandably smitten as he steals glances. “Fuck, Trevor. That Stacy is one super hot chick.” "Oh I hear ya man. I certainly don't mind the eye candy when I come here to lift everyday. Would love to get into that...if I weren't currently dating Brooke, that is, haha." Grinning stupidly, Seth replies. "Yeah, she's so hot Trev.... but I doubt she'd pay much attention to a guy like me." Seth can't help but notice her height, not too far off from Trevor's. Noticeably taller than he is, certainly. That seems to be the case with a lot of girls on campus. So many of the college girls and guys seem so tall lately. Trevor laughs and reminds his friend that time in the gym won't hurt and that if he stays consistent and pushes himself that she won't care how tall he is. "Muscles always seal the deal!" Trevor chuckles and throws up a double bicep pose, flexing his impressive exposed arms, grinning cockily, causing Seth to roll his eyes. "Trev, doubt you'll be saying that when you are a six footer with me looking WAY up at you!” Seth jokes. "Then you will be tall AND muscular. I'm going to look like a little kid next to you.... so yeah, I better start lifting more I guess!" * A few weeks go by and Seth has been sticking with the gym, much to the surprise of his roommate. While it wasn't like Trevor had no faith in his buddy, he just knew the dropout rates for new lifters was very high. Trevor continues to coach and direct Seth, both in the weight room and giving him advice on his diet . His training advice is sound, and both can already see an improvement in Seth's physique, though it's not been easy for the new gymrat. "Ugh, Trevor, is it normal to ache all the time? I can never seem to really recover..." “Haha, buddy that's part of the deal. Though the more you lift the less sore you should be. It could be that you're not taking enough time to recover. Could be that your muscles are actually growing or any number of reasons. Just growing pains. But, it means that you are actually working and growing, so be excited, man!” Before long, Seth begins to notice that his shoes are uncomfortably tight. He'd worn size 9s since he finished growing taller a few years prior. At first he figures it's the workout. One day after class he hits the mall to get a new pair. While Trevor hangs out at their apartment he gets a text from Seth: [Trev, you won't believe it. I had to get new shoes! Size 10.5!! Crazy!!] Tervor's mind races, trying to process Seth's text. He'd been denying Seth's progress, playing it off as beginner gains. But could his smaller buddy actually be growing? A hint of fear and jealousy permeates his mind. He thinks to himself how his size 11 shoes haven't been feeling any tighter. He calms down and rationalizes that maybe the little guy is going to have one small growth spurt. There is still no way Seth will ever catch him. He convinces himself that must be growing too, even if his shoes still fit. I mean, your feet don't HAVE to get bigger to increase your height, right? Trevor remembers how he is up 7 lbs to 192 lbs, the biggest he's ever been and he doesn't seem any more muscular or more fat, so he assumes that extra weight is coming from added height. The thought calms his nerves and he smiles to himself, excited for the growth that lies ahead. * It is now six weeks after the shot and the two are once again in the gym working out. Seth has been make even more noteworthy progress and has settled into a dedicated routine. This time Trevor brings a notebook. In the locker room after the lifting session Trevor confronts his protege. "Dude, I am a terrible trainer! I forgot to take your initial stats to see how you are coming along. So let's start now, better late than never. We'll use this notebook to make sure you keep progressing. It's good motivation too to see your lifts go up week after week. Ok, how tall again?” "5 ft 8" Seth says, slightly annoyed. "Well, just a bit under actually." “Really? Are you sure?” Trevor looks at Seth, unconvinced. At first he is apprehensive to find out for sure, but he can't deny that Seth looks at least a little taller. Wanting to be a trainer though, he knows he needs to be accurate and thorough with his log books. "Nah, dude, let's find out for sure." Trevor directs Seth to stand against the wall while he takes a tape measure out of his bag. He measures his buddy. "Just a hair under 5 ft 9, dude!" Seth eyes widen and he looks at Trevor excitedly. He shouts, "Maybe that stuff is working for me! I've never been over 5'8 before!” “Dude, that's awesome! You're not quite AS tiny as before, haha. Ok c'mon let's take your weight.” Next, Seth hops on the scale. It reads 160 lbs. “Great job, Seth. That's a 15 lb gain in just 6 weeks. Those are pretty good beginner gains, dude!” Seth can't be more excited as Trevor notes his huge grin. He is thrilled! “Ok man, let's get your other measurements for the log.” Trevor tapes all of Seth's a major muscles groups and writes them in the notebook. Arms: 14.5” Chest: 38.5” Waist: 31” Quads: 21.5” Calves: 14” Trevor can't help but mentally compare his own stats to feed his ego. While Seth may have crept up in height he took solace that he still had him beat everywhere. He knew his 17” guns, 42” pecs, 24.5” legs and 15.5” calves were all well bigger while his tight 30” waist was even more ripped than his little buddy's. Not to mention, from what he had seen of his roommate in the showers, he had more 'down there' as well, the thought of which gave him a reassuring grin. “Not bad, dude! You've got some really big arms compared to the rest of you, definitely a strength. A good one to have too. Chicks dig big guns.” "I still can't believe it, Dude. I grew! I grew!" he keeps saying, trying not to draw a ton of attention to himself. "This is awesome. If it's working for me, it MUST be working for you too! Do you want me to measure your height too?" Tervor shifts a bit, clearly looking uncomfortable and conflicted. "It'll only take a minute... come on... this is exciting!!" Trevor shrugs and submits. Seth grabs and extends the tape measure, coming in closer to take his height. As he does, Trevor can't help but notice how much Seth seems to have closed that gap. The difference between 5ft8 and 5ft10.5 is noticeable, but an inch and a half really isn't. From a distance the two could look the same height! The thought causes the competitive trainer to shudder at the thought. He's always been bigger and taller than his roommate. "And it'll stay that way," he thinks to himself as he stands as straight as you can. The wait for Seth to declare the number feels like hours. Finally, he speaks. "Five Ten, Trev. Still." Seth pauses and watches for Trevor's reaction. He seems deflated momentarily before regaining composure. Seth attempts to reassure him. "Maybe it works different on people depending on their growth stage... I'm sure your growth will come soon!!" Seth says, slapping his back, "Hell, you've made great gains in the gym so something is happening!" Trevor seems to take this to heart, but Seth can tell he isn't completely convinced. Even so, while Seth is jubilant about his growth, he keeps it to myself to not offend his roommate. "Hey Trev, how about you have Brooke come over? I can cook us dinner tonight. I'm starved!!" he says as they grab their bags and head for the door. On the way back to their condo Trevor is obviously dejected but does his best to hide it. He can't believe that Seth is only about an inch shorter than him. And what happened to 5'10 and a HALF? Seth must've missed that last ½ inch, he tells himself. Still, it hurts not feeling as big. With the overall presence of his ripped muscles on his frame Trevor always felt like he towered over his smaller roommate. Not so much anymore. That night Brooke comes over as Seth is whipping up a feast in the kitchen. Having listened to Trevor go on an on about how important a big diet is for big muscles, Seth knew a big nutritious meal would cheer his friend up, let alone sate his own growing hunger. By now the two are well into the second semester of the school year. Everyone is deep into their studies neither had seen Brooke in about three weeks. When she comes in Trevor is stunned at how gorgeous she looks, even more beautiful than he remembered. He felt a stirring in his crotch as his girlfriend made her entrance. The FaceTime chats that they had been relegated to just didn't do her justice. She comes in wearing heels and is almost as tall as Seth! Trevor remembered her being about three inches shorter than Seth when he first introduced her. He now realizes she must be about 5'7 now! Seth too was stunned, noting how tall and sleek she looked. He recalled how Trevor told him he gave her the shot too and it seemed it was working on her too, maybe even more so than Seth! "Hey boys!", she said as she entered. “Hey babe! Damn, I've missed you. You are smokin'!” She goes over to her boyfriend gave him a kiss. Seth notices that Trevor didn't have to bend over like he used to, or at all to kiss her on the lips. She looks over at her boyfriend's roomie. "Hey Seth! You are looking good! I can tell you've been hitting the gym. Trevor said you'd been lifting with him lately. I can see that you've put on some muscle. You're going to have to move up size large, that medium shirt is looking a little tight! Trev, Babe, you must be a fantastic trainer!" The trio have a great evening catching up with each other and enjoying the grilled Caribbean chicken dish that Seth prepared. That night, after the friends retire to their rooms, Trevor goes to town fucking Brooke. All night long he had been staring at his girl full of lust. She just looked so fit and healthy. She was always fit, but she seemed to be on a another level tonight. Maybe it was the longer legs. He also couldn't deny that he was in much need of some release due to the frustration that he seemingly wasn't growing nearly fast enough. * Over the next few weeks, Seth is like a demon in the gym, pushing himself harder and harder and harder. Trevor watches and celebrates his gains, proud that his training techniques are working so effectively. And yet jealously, he see's his buddy making gains so quickly. While Seth started out benching 135, he's now pushing 185 for the same number of reps easily. It's an astounding change. And his shirts keep getting tighter and tighter, to the point now that he's started borrowing old shirts from Trevor! Trevor shakes his head, barely believing that his supposed small roommate needed them now. The duo keep pushing themselves in the gym, even during finals. They can hardly believe that the semester is almost over. It's even harder to believe that two are both getting summer jobs, though Trevor's will be out of state. "Sucks I won't be able to train with you for a couple of months, Trev... it's really been awesome. I've never been so buff in my life." Trevor has recently noticed that Seth's voice has gotten deeper over the last few weeks. Luckily, though, Seth hasn't seemed to have caught him in height. It's something they both have been watching for out of the corners of their eyes. During their last lift together for the school year Seth points to his notebook in Trevor's bag. "Maybe we should take stats again so that I can keep track of the progress myself?" “Erm...yeah man. Of course. Let's see how much mass you've put on, bro!” he says, purposely not mentioning height. The two head to the locker room and strip to their skivvies. Trevor notes how's Seth's body has developed so much that he's not too far behind himself, a thought that worries him. Seth steps on the scale first. The two watch it, with widening eyes, as it swings to 175 pounds. Seth's face brightens excitedly. "Dude... that's another 15 pounds in five weeks. NO WONDER none of my clothes fit!!! Oh wow I could tell I was getting some muscles when I look in the mirror, but this is awesome! Ok, let's take my other measurements. Bro, you are an awesome trainer!" The two high five and Trevor grabs the tape and steps up to Trevor. “Ok. Arms...16 and a quarter”. Woah dude. You are still rocking those huge guns, damn! And they are so defined, crazy, man.” Seth flexes his arm and Trevor watches, stunned, as the ball of muscle leaps into relief. It isn't huge, but a big, solid, undeniable lump of muscle bulges. It is the first time he has seen his roommate flex in any way. “Holy shit, Seth. Your peaks is sweet. Geezus. Ok, let's get the rest. Chest is...41”. Big gain of over two inches, wow. Waist is still 31”, so you're not getting fatter. It seems to be all muscle, dude! Legs...now 23”. Calves...another inch at 15. Those are some studly gains, dude! You're beginner gains won't quit!” “Thanks Trevor, I owe a ton of it to you bro!” “Any time, roomie! Ok move out the way so I can check my weight.” “Hey Trev, can you take my height?” “Erm...um yeah I suppose. You think you are still growing?” “I think so. I hope so.” It's the moment Trevor been dreading. Seth steps against the wall, standing as straight as he can. The anticipation is killing him. He WANTS to be bigger. HE WANT to be taller, even if it seems like he hasn't quite matched Trevor yet. Trevor measures him once... then again... and again. "Dude, what's up?" Seth asks. Trevor grins at him. Internally, Seth worries that he's hasn't grown anymore. Then shares the news. "You are five-ten now!" Now Seth understands the grin on Trevor's face. If he's 5ft10, that means... "Dude! Trevor, you must have grown TOO!!" The two high five, both ecstatic at each others' growth. "I told you, Trevor! It was only a matter of time!!" Trevor looks thrilled, FINALLY this drug was WORKING. Seth steps aside and readies his measurements without a word. It's clear he wants to know. He NEEDS to know. Seth first takes his weight, "200 pounds! Swole man, damn!!" And then he measures his height. "Almost 6ft, dude! You are nearly there!!!" * Trevor is so excited he could almost cry. He bear hugs Seth and lifts him off the ground, taking note of how newly solid and heavy Seth now feels. "Hell yeah buddy! We've both put on about an inch!” He sets his friend down. “But wait, you said 'almost 6 ft'. What was it really?” "Oh,...um...it was right at 5ft11.5. Maybe just a hair under.” Trevor's smile slightly wanes but he certainly can't be disappointed after the last measurement turned up no discernible growth. "But still, Seth, that's just about an inch of growth. I am totally going to hit 6 ft, I just know it!" “Hell yeah man, and maybe I can at least get to 'almost 6 ft' like you said, haha. Starting out at 5'8” I'd be more than happy being 'almost 6 ft'!” “I guess you were right, Seth. It does affect everyone a bit different. I mean, Brooke actually grew the fastest out of all us so far, she's put on like two and half inches.” “Sorta makes sense, I remember back in Junior High that the girls often grew faster at first compared to the boys. But yeah, man, it's working for Brooke though. She looks extra hot lately. Hope you don't mind me sayin'.” “Haha. No prob, dude. You can look, just don't touch!” The two laugh and high five again. Even though Trevor discovered that he is just slightly shorter than what Seth had originally let on, he is still joyous. His confidence that he always remain the bigger roommate returns. That night after the measurements Trevor meets up with Brooke for their last night together before they break from summer. Like him, she will also be away for the summer so they plan a last special night together. After eating at their favorite restaurant the two head home for some intimate time. Back at Trevor's condo, his excitement in the bedroom is palpable and spills over into his performance. “Woah there, tiger. What's gotten into you? I like it, stud.” Brooke asks, pleased at the sensations he is giving her. Brooke is also looking taller and more voluptuous than ever, further revving up the horny college stud. He proceeds to give her a heavy dicking from all the excitement at finally growing and making some noticeable muscle gains. He relays the news to Brooke and in the middle of their fucking she wants to be measured too. Trevor excitedly obeys and measure her now at 5 ft 8.5! He thinks to himself how his girlfriend is becoming quite the vixen before the two return to the bed for another round. The two, both enhanced and excited by the results of the Elongro, are able to go longer than they ever had before. The couple drift asleep in each other arms, Trevor dreaming of growing stronger, more muscular and taller than he could've ever imagined. To Be Continued... Jump to Part 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/16655-elongro/?do=findComment&comment=207069
  3. ABSQRST

    Liquid Manhood- Chapter Six

    A year long wait for Part Six, sorry, school got ahead of me and when I was finally free I wasn't in any mood to write. This part is mostly filler and some plot, more transformations to come in the next part though. Thanks for reading. Read Part One HERE Read Part Two HERE Read Part Three HERE Read Part Four HERE Read Part Five HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Six Chris lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling deep in thought. The room was still dark, but dim light shone through the gaps in the curtains. The light illuminated the cause of Chris’ thinking, a large tent in Melvin’s bed sheet, and two massive feet that hung out the end of that bed. A couple of months ago Melvin had been a small runty nerd who Chris could twist around his little finger, but then Melvin took some of the magical elixir home. Now Melvin was more confident, he was questioning Chris’ decisions more and he was keeping Chris awake with hour-long fuck sessions every single day. The only benefit to being kept up so late is that Chris had the time to think over the events of the past few days. That first day when he found out what had happened to Melvin had been the hardest. Hearing that deep voice over the phone made his heart drop, but he nearly died when he found Melvin. Melvin had directed Chris to come talk to him at some apartment, his nerdy roommate opened the door in just his underwear. He was now tall, built and from the look of the bulge in his briefs, hung like a donkey. Seeing Melvin had only added fuel to the theory that the elixir had a plan of its own, that the changes it caused weren't random. That in fact it mattered on what sort of person you were, an undeserving person would end up as unappealing, but a deserving person, as Melvin appeared to be, would end up owning mouthwatering pecs with big silver dollar sized nipples, abs you could wash clothes on and a bulge that looked like it could feed a small village. The conversation between the two roommates was awkward mainly because Chris could see the four girls who lived in the apartment had been fucked senseless for what must of been several days. From where Chris sat he could see the girls in a sleeping cum stained heap on a bed in a bedroom, the doors having been pulled off its hinges, they all had smiles on their faces. A smile which matched Melvin’s smug smirk, he knew the situation between them had changed. Melvin though didn’t rub it in that he was now a towering stallion compared to Chris, which Chris had expected. Instead he talked about what had happened to him and what he’d thought was going on with the elixir. In the days following Melvin’s marathon fuck session both boys shared their theories on how the elixir affected the user. Chris’ theory that who you were mattered held more water then anything Melvin offered. It was nearly confirmed when Chris and, the now meathead, Melvin found out what happened to the people dosed by the water bottles from the school gym that Chris had tainted. The equipment manager Thaddeus Stern had ballooned into some ebony black beast of muscle and manhood, he was instantly recruited by football team to his own delight. Yuri was also dosed too, and to Chris’ delight he didn't end up huge. Instead the slim swimmer had swelled into some hairy bear. A gut of muscle and fat replacing his toned abs. Melvin didn't think the change was that bad, Yuri looked pretty intimidating, an opinion which seemed to be shared by others. Yuri had been recruited to the football team too. The third person to be dosed had surprised Chris. Coach Peters had changed and it seemed to have knocked him out of the funk that losing his football team had caused. His flabby gut had been sucked in and tightened, his hair darkened and his face lost a good 20 years of wear and tear. The man who now stomped around campus in a sweat suit with a big cigar in his mouth was nothing like the old Coach Peters. Scary was the word that Melvin had used after he'd been cornered and almost forced to join the football team by the new Peters. He was rebuilding the team and taking anyone who even looked like they lifted weights. Chris though was half attracted to the new barrel chested daddy like-coach. He would have expected that Peters to get the bad side of the elixir, but instead Peters’ love and loyalty to the boys on his team had instead made the elixir turn Peters into a better man than he already was. Chris’ reminiscing was ruined by the loud wet slapping coming from Melvin’s bed. The big lug had thrown back his blankets and was fisting his Pringles can cock with both of his meaty fists. Chris just rolled over and buried his face into his pillow hoping Melvin would only jerk off once this morning. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “Good workout today man” Thaddeus’ Barry White-like voice said Both he and Sean were standing in the locker room of the school gym, they had it to themselves as the other patrons seemed to flee the room when they both came in sweaty from their workout and stuffed into gym shorts that looked close to bursting. They'd both showered on the far side of the showers from each other, both trying to sneak in a quick wank, though it was hard to keep two massive muscle men jerking wrist fat monster cocks secret. Neither of them brought it up, even thought they’d both cum at the same time. “Yea, good lift” Sean agreed, pulling on his shirt The two muscle men were both buttoning up their shirts, both having the same issue of pulling the shirt together over their pecs. Thaddeus with his glistening ebony pec pillows and Sean with is fire-red furry slab like chest. Sean and Thaddeus had met soon after Coach Peters had recruited them both for football team and they’d become fast friends. Mainly it was due to them being forced together as they were both of similar size, but they shared an intense interest in video games, so a friendship had blossomed. A tv bolted up to the wall loudly played some sporting news show, the announcer worriedly talking about the removal of some big name athlete from the Dallas Cowboys because of some sort of disease. Sean had seen the guys face all over the internet and he’d even jerked off a fair bit to the guys modeling pics. Sean gave up on closing his shirt, his entire hairy pec cleavage on show. The button just below his pecs barely holding the shirt closed. “You coming round mine tonight to game” Sean asked pulling up the zipper of his jeans again Since his last growth spurt Sean had found a guy on Craigslist who was selling a tonne of clothes in sizes that could actually contain him, but now after a couple of months of actually working out, playing football and slowly growing he was beginning to outgrow them. Thaddeus, was himself just stuffing his overpacked undies into some jeans. He pulled the zipper up and gave his hefty bulge a good grope with a big black hand. “Nah man” Thaddeus chuckled deeply “Got a date tonight” Sean laughed “What again… did last nights go so well” Thaddeus left their gaming session last night with some cheerleader under this arm. The big black stud had been grinning ear to ear earlier when they started their workout, so it must of gone well. “Yea, yea, it did, nearly broke her bed” Thaddeus laughed, doing a little thrusting movement with his hips “But its not the same girl… her friend" “Slut” Sean laughed lightly punching Thaddeus’ shoulder Thaddeus packed up his gym bag and seemed ready to leave, obviously eager to get to this date. “Yea pretty much, I used to be some pathetic virgin” the black stud laughed “But since my growth spurt I've been getting pussy every day… even multiple pussies sometimes” Sean felt his eyes roll, Thaddeus just laughed at his reaction. The two friends said goodbye and the black beast thudded out of the locker room, leaving Sean to struggle to get his clown feet into sneakers that were falling apart because they were at least a size too small. The walk back to his dorm room was quick, but it was a constant barrage of stares as he stomped across campus. He knew his heavy bulge was bouncing from thigh to thigh with each step and his pecs were dangerously close to launching the remaining buttons of his shirt across the path ahead of him. Sean was struggling with his keys at his door, his big meaty fingers fumbling over the tiny, little pieces of metal. “Sean” a quiet voice asked Sean turned to look and just saw an empty corridor. Then he looked downwards. A nervous yet smiling brown haired boy stared up at him. It was the guy he’d brought all the old clothes from. A guy of barely 5ft2 who for some reason owned clothes ranging from XXL to XXXXL, Sean didn’t ask why. “Hey... Ben right” he asked, hoping he’d got the name right Ben nodded as Sean turned away from his door to look down at Ben. The smaller guys eyes widening as he stared at the thick overhang of Sean’s pecs. Thankfully his eyes weren’t looking down to the overstuffed bulge of his pants which was shockingly close to Ben’s eye level. They were silent for a few moments, Ben just watching as Sean’s pecs slowly heaved with each breath. Sean broke the silence “So, why are you here” He knew that Ben didn’t live in the dorm. He loved in one of big frat houses on the other side of campus. Ben muttered something, sounded like he was nervously gathering his words. “Just… just... wanted to see if you wanted to hang out” Ben asked, smiling slightly Sean wondered if Ben had actually wanted to ask something else, but the sight of Sean’s hulking hairy form had knocked all the confidence out of the little guy. Sean chuckled slightly “Sure, I was going play some games, but we can hang out” Sean opened his door, the gust of warm musky air washed over them both. Ben actually squeaked in surprise. “It's only a single-player game, but I’m sure we could find you something to do” Sean said, letting Ben pass into the room Sean followed him in, giving his big bulge a quick rearrange before closing the door and trapping the little guy. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “Do you have any books on witchcraft” Barrett asked up to the librarian Without even looking pass their glasses and down to the runty Barrett, they muttered a floor number. Barrett had gotten used to being ignored since his fall from grace. He quickly headed up the stairs, taking two at a time, which was a stretch for his short skinny legs. Luckily no one would recognize him, he wasn't the Barrett anyone on campus would recognize. A few months ago Barrett had received an email about his campuses links to magic and witchcraft, since then he’d been researching the subject. He’d read more books and written more down in these months then he’d ever done in his life. It had started as a simple way of passing the time and maybe distracting him from his diminished body and from the housekeeper's son cleaning the swimming pool shirtless, but it had become a desperate passion once AJ returned home. The doctors had said that AJ had a muscle wasting disease, the same thing that the doctors has said to Barrett. AJ had lost his position in the NFL and returned him a broken man. AJ was nearly as small and runty as Barrett was and was getting smaller all the time. His personality shift was more dramatic than Barrett’s had been, Barrett regularly could hear AJ crying himself to sleep. When AJ was a towering beast Barrett had never even heard a single word spoken in a unsure tone, let alone seen him shed a tear. The CDC had even visited the house to check it out for any environmental causes, they found nothing. Just like they’d found nothing at the athletic department on campus. Barrett had actually stopped off to see how things had changed. It was just the same as Barrett had left it, without any reminder that Barrett had ever existed. The CDC had even kept an office on campus, but they didn’t seem to be doing anything. Just some guy sitting alone in an office bouncing a tennis ball off the far wall. The suddenly collapse of his brothers obscenely manly physique and the CDC’s continued inability to find a medical cause had only pushed Barrett closer towards witchcraft and magic. It had knocked Barrett out of his depression, he’d become more active, more set on finding an answer. He’d be researching anything and everything that could link to his and AJ’s situation. Quickly moving away from any sort of scientific explanation and focusing almost entirely on the thin hope that something beyond explanation had caused his and AJ’s predicament. He came to the correct floor, wheezing, he was so unfit now. He moved through the cases and desks looking for some sort of sign directing him to his answer. The floor was pretty much empty of students. Just one guy with long black hair sitting at a desk with headphones on. Barrett stopped to stare at his guy, he was well built. Large pecs straining at his shirt and thick arms gripping the table. Barrett bit his lip, muscle really got to him, his little cock hardening in his pants. The guy let out a moan and Barrett could see a hand was beneath his shirt feeling up his pecs. Barrett knelt down to check under the table, having to look between the legs of chairs and desks between him and the big guy. A blond haired head was moving back and forth between the guys massive jean clad legs. Barrett let out a gasp and scurried between some bookcases. He heard a sloppy sounding slap and a guy, probably the blond, taking in deep breaths. “Zach, did you hear something… I think someone is here” one voice said between deep breaths “No one is here” another deeper voice said “Get back to sucking bitch” There was slapping sound and a return to wet sucking noises. Barrett was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against a bookcase. His cock rock hard at the sound of the blond struggling to deepthroat whatever this Zach had between his legs. Down the line of books, Barrett saw a massive ornate bookcase. Leather bound books of various sizes filled its shelves and a sign above in posh looking gold lettering read. “Tiberius J.J. Haber Occult Library” Barrett jumped to his feet, for the first time thankful that he was small, his feet making no sound as he moved. He ran down the aisle towards the bookcase. As he approached he saw how run down the bookcase was. The golden sign was faded, the wood chipped and in placed moldy. The books were covered in thick dust, but Barrett saw a few finger marks. A couple of books on the middle shelf had been touched recently, but only those books. He strained to reach up to them, again hating how small he was now. “Did you see that guy… getting a blowjob in the library” an insanely rich and deep voice boomed from down the aisle “From a guy…” another voice stated sounding annoyed “Damn” the deep voice muttered “I mean, nothing against gays, Chris, you know that…” The other guy, Chris, just sighed loudly. Barrett fell back to another set of shelves and hid behind them as the two men approached. One was tall with strong features, almost model like in his movements. The other was a brute, towering nearly as tall as the bookcases and nearly as wide as the aisle. The massive dude had a hand down his shorts and was obviously scratching at his balls. Chris though was inspecting the occult bookcase. Chris gently lifted the middle books away from shelf and tapped at the wood behind them. “Good, it’s still jammed” Chris said returning the books to their place “Huh” the big guy said, he’d been busy sniffing his hand after scratching his nuts “The compartment where we found the magic book… we jammed it so we’d know if someone else found it” Chris said, trying not to raise his voice at the giant guy The big guy's viking like face made an expression of understanding. His heavy lantern jaw moving to make an ‘oh’ sound. “It’s still jammed so whoever was asking about witchcraft never found it” Chris mused “Wait… how’d you know someone asked about that” the big guy asked “I paid the librarian to call me if someone did, why do you think we even rushed over here” Chris said smirking arrogantly “We don’t want anyone finding out what we did… well not till I’m your size” Chris gave a playful backhanded tap to the big guy’s abs which were showing through his shirt. The two turned and left, Barrett’s head spinning, could magic actually be real, what where they are hiding. He waited for the big guys wide back to vanish around a corner before slowly he started to follow them. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Sean was laying on his front on his bed. It was too small for him. His pecs were hanging off the end and he was awkwardly propping his meaty arms on the edge so he could play his game properly. His big mits pressing buttons and his TV loudly sounding out the gun shots of his character. “You ok back there little dude” Sean asked peeking over his shoulder to Ben Ben was laying between Sean’s legs, the big guys legs bent and pressing down on Ben’s back. Ben’s face was pressed between Sean’s rounded muscle ass and his tongue deep between the cheeks. “Just slap my ass once if yes, twice for no” Sean said, trying not to chuckle Ben’s little hand flew up and slapped the rock solid left cheek of Sean’s ass and then fell back to gripping at Sean’s thigh. “Good boy” Sean said returning to his game “In a bit I’m move across to my gaming chair, you can suck or sit on my dick if you like” Sean’s cock was rock hard and laying between his legs and throbbing against Ben’s tummy. “Well you going suck or ride it either way, I’ll let you choose which happens first” Sean’s let out a deep moan and almost crushed his controller as Ben excitedly assaulted his asshole with his talented and surprisingly large tongue. ——————————————————————————————————————————— On opposite sides of campus, two groups of friends were meeting. One a group of young men who were busy planning the next phase of their Homes for Humanity project. The other a group of young men planning which news agency’s website they were going to bring down with a denial of service attack. They were in similar number and a similar makeup of guys, just different in personalities. But one thing that these groups shared was that the refreshments at their meetings tasted weird.
  4. **Note from Author: hey everyone, this is my first ever story on the forum, so be easy on me. I’m heavily inspired by @dredlifter’s hot stories, and I wished there was more content like his, so I decided to start something. Let me know what you think!** “Colton!!” My friend Shawn barrels down the hall, hugging me tight. I had just finished moving my stuff back into my dorm room for my Sophomore year at college, and I was very excited to be living on the same floor as all my best friends. I hadn’t seen them all summer, and to be honest, we weren’t very good at keeping up via text, but I knew we would be able to pick it right back up. “Hey Shawn!” I say, settling down from the hug. “How has your summer been?” “Great!” Shawn says, running his tan fingers through his blonde hair, which has grown out a little bit longer from what I remembered. “I have been skateboarding a lot this summer, and just spending a lot of time exploring the city. You’ll never guess what I..” At that point, our friend, and Shawn’s roommate, James comes out of the floor elevator, arms full of stuff and yells over at us. We run over and start helping him out. We head down to his car, and realize he has at least 4 more loads to bring up, even with all of us helping. “James, I didn’t realize you had so much shit!” I say, lugging a oscillating fan over my shoulder. “Whatever,” James snarks, “You’re young, and you guys are in shape, you can do a few loads.” “In shape” might have been somewhat of an overstatement. I’m about 6 feet tall, 190ish pounds, some of it is muscle, but I definitely like to eat a little more than I like to go to the gym. Shawn and James are about the same height as well, but they’re quite a bit skinnier than me, at about 155 pounds. I was always jealous of their metabolism, but I am proud of the few muscles I have that they would never be able to have. “Yeah, this isn’t gonna be a big deal.” Shawn says, grabbing one of the bigger suitcases and carrying it back towards the dorm. I never really thought Shawn could carry something that heavy, but I’m glad to not have to carry that up later. After a couple trips, we’re pretty sweaty, covered in August sweat, with a few more trips to go. James whips off his shirt, revealing his slender body, and Shawn and I follow suit, although I am always somewhat hesitant to strip, as I’m a little uncomfortable with my extra fluff. I look over at Shawn, and he’s tan as hell and, although still thin, has the ridges or abs and the start of some pecs and biceps balling up as he moves around. “Damn Shawn, you been eating like crazy this summer?!” James notes. “Something like that!” Shawn says, dismissively, as he jokingly flexes at us, his newly existent biceps popping up. He grabs a bottle of water, and I look at Shawn directly for the first time since we have gotten back. Is he a little taller than me? I mean, we’re 20, so he might’ve had some puberty left in him. I hope I’ve got that coming up soon too... He looks good. I guess I’ve always thought he looks good. His blonde hair, his smooth, thin body, and his pretty big dick, which I’ve seen in the dorm showers quite a few times. He’s not shy. Maybe I’m just more self conscious than my friends... I only recently have come to grips with the fact that I am gay. You’d think I would know that, what with all the gay porn I’ve watched since I was a kid, but it took a lot of therapy to undo the religious guilt I felt. I know Shawn isn’t gay, because he’s pretty obsessed with this girl Izzy from his Bio class last semester, and he’s not afraid to share all the details with us. I haven’t told Shawn and James that I’m gay yet, it felt weird to text them over the summer, but I plan to soon. Maybe later this week. Before school ramps up, for sure. We finally finish unloading all of James’ stuff, and we chill in their room for a little while, just catching up about our summers. “I mostly just worked,” James shares. “My dad’s bakery has been booming, and I needed the cash. I’ve gotten pretty good at baking though! Too bad we have to live in the dorms for two years here.. I guess I may not be able to maintain my skills!” “I bet we could bake at Izzy’s place!” Shawn says. We look over at him, surprised. “Oh, haha, I guess I forgot to text y’all, I had my internship here over the summer, and she was actually one of the other interns. We got to talking, and we’ve now been dating for a few months now!” “Congrats man!” I say, crossing my legs, trying not to plump up think of Shawn’s now-wiry body pulsing next to Izzy, “She lives close?” “Yeah, just across the street. You’ll probably have the room to yourself quite a bit, James.” Shawn laughs, and nudges James, winking. We roll our eyes, and James asks, “It is too bad Alex has to drop out over the summer. Do you know who your new roommate is?” I had been planning to room with our friend Alex this year, but a few weeks ago his Mom passed away, and he had to take a gap year. I had hoped nobody else would sign up for my room, but a few days ago someone named Kyle showed up on the housing website. I tried looking him up on social media, but all he had was a Facebook account that hasn’t been updated in 4 years. The profile picture wasn’t even a picture of him, just some artwork from a video game I didn’t recognize. “I don’t know him, but his name is Kyle!” I say. “He seems like a nerd, so we will probably get along, I hope.” “Oh cool. ” James says, “I’m surprised we haven’t seen him moving in yet!” “Yeah, but we have been in here a little while. You guys want to head back to my room with me, and see if he’s in there?” “I’m actually gonna shower up, and head over to Izzy’s place.” Shawn says, “I want to have some ‘quality time’ before we start feeling the stress of the semester. She had something she wanted to give me too, but she said it was a secret.” “Huh.” I say, “You will have to keep us in the loop. What about you James, you in to meet my roommate?” “Nah, I’m pretty pooped. I think I’m gonna crash for the night. I’ll meet him tomorrow!” “No worries. Probably better to not swarm him all at once anyways.” I head out of their room, and head across the hall to my room, the door propped open. I look in, and on the other wall of our room is a giant pride flag, with the correlating desk covered in Drag race stickers, pride kitsch, all the works. “I guess Kyle’s gay too,” I think to myself. I hope he’s hot. Or maybe I don’t. I’m still figuring out myself as a gay guy. Even if he was hot, available, and wanted to fuck his roommate, I wasn’t sure if I was ready. I piddle around the room, setting up my desk just the way I want, anxious to meet my roommate. After about 20 minutes, the door creaks open more, and a little guy, wrapped in a towel, furry chest on display, comes in. “Oh hey! You must be Colton!” He says, “I’m Kyle! Nice to meet you. Sorry I’m just hopping out of the shower. I have been moving in for the past little while!” “Nice to meet you too Kyle!” I stand up, walking over to shake his hand. As I walk over, I realize just how short he is, his eyes about on level with my collar bones. After I shake his hand, and we chit chat for a bit he starts getting dressed, changing locker room style, keeping the towel on even after putting on shorts. He’s a shy little cutie, but not really my type. I’m relieved. I think we’ll get along, and it will be good to have another gay guy around as I work on coming out to everyone. It’s a small school, so I haven’t known any other out gay men. Not that I have been looking, before now. After we settle in, he starts playing league of legends on his computer, headphones on, and I start playing the FFVII remake I tried to finish before school started. Just as I’m getting in the groove, there’s a knock on my door. “Come in.” Kyle shouts at the door, not looking up from his game. “Hey!” Shawn peeks in, “I’m Shawn, one of Colton’s friends. I live right down the hall. I just wanted to swing in to see if Colton wanted to come workout with me in the morning, before classes start.” “Workout?! Since when?” I say. “Just a few weeks ago,” Shawn says, blushing. “Izzy was telling me that she likes her men buff, so I’m trying to fulfill the fantasy.” “Ah! That’s why you look the way you do. I’m in, having some accountability should help me stay to a regimen. What time?” “Pretty early, like 6?” “Yeah, sounds good.” I reply. At this point, Kyle pulls his headphones down and looks over, “do y’all mind if I tag along? I just transferred, and I don’t really know anybody.” “Yeah, totally.” Shawn replies. “Our friend James might eventually join us too, but when I asked him, he looked at me like a maniac. His loss, when the three of us are jacked, he’ll be struggling to keep up!” I find myself crossing my legs once again at the thought of a jacked Shawn, but I laugh, and tell him to have a good time with Izzy. As Shawn heads out, Kyle wraps up his game, and pulls his headphones off and looks over at me. “I don’t mean to butt in, I hope I’m not crashing the party by asking to come along to the gym!” “No way,” I say, adamantly shaking my head. “Why would you even say that?” “I just don’t mean to.. intrude.” He pauses, “I know how it feels to have interrupted time with a crush.” “A crush?” I ask. “Oh!” Kyle asks, “I guess I misread the situation. I just felt some chemistry between you two.” “Well, to be honest, you’re not wrong.” I admit. “I have had a little bit of a crush on him, but I only recently even realized I was gay. I planned to come out to my friends tonight, but it just didn’t happen. I don’t think they’d care, but they’re also somewhat aloof. How’d you know?” “Call it men’s intuition,” he says. “You’re cute. You should be more confident. I mean, he seems straight, so maybe a confident crush on someone else?” “Haha, thanks for the advice, gay oracle.” I joke. “I’m just telling it like I see it. Do you know if there are any cute guys that will be at the gym tomorrow?” “Not sure, I never really go to the campus gym in the mornings. I’m more of an evening workout guy.” “Well, I’ll dress up, just in case.” And with that, Kyle puts his headphones back on and starts up another game. I grab a seltzer out of my fridge, play a little more of my game, and start wrapping up for bed. I’m wiped from the day, and end up turning in for the night pretty quickly. I fall asleep fast, not even disturbed by the clicking of the mouse echoing from Kyle’s rig, which would usually keep me up. I wake up around 5:45 to my alarm, and see Kyle already up and ready, stretching in some tight little shorts and XS JJ Malibu tank, showing off his tight butt, and surprisingly wide back. “Oh hey!” He says, seeing me get up and changed pretty quickly. “Do you want to head over to Shawn’s room, or meet him there?” “Let’s head across the hall. I’m about ready.” I say, slipping on an old t shirt, while brushing my teeth. I leave the room, Kyle following behind, and we head to Shawn and James’ room. I jiggle the handle, the door unlocked like usual, and there was Shawn, ready to go, in a shirt that looks just a little too tight on him, mixing something into a cup. “Hey guys,” he says, keeping his voice low to not wake up his roommate. “Izzy gave me some protein powder last night that her dad’s company makes. Do you want some?” “Nah,” I say. I always feel like my metabolism can’t keep up with the extra calories, I do my best to keep from gaining weight. Maybe protein would help, but I have just never felt comfortable with it. “I wouldn’t mind some!” Kyle pipes up, “I wouldn’t mind bulking up a bit. Maybe I can make up for my height with some more width!” Shawn whips up a water bottle for Kyle, and we head down the stairs and towards the campus gym. A perk of such a small campus is just how easy it is to walk everywhere. We get to the gym and head to the weight area. Shawn and Kyle look a little lost, I know Shawn has never stepped foot in this gym, and Kyle is probably looking at the early morning gym bros. They’re there en masse, the gym is much more crowded than I thought it would be. At least there’s views, and I look over at Kyle, who raises his eyebrows at me, gesturing at all the buff men, giving me a big thumbs up. I gesture over to the dumbbell rack, and start warming up with some 25 pounders. Shawn comes up next to me and warms up with some 10 pounders, and Kyle heads straight to the squat rack. I quickly move up to my max, this summer I was able to curl the 40s for reps, which I have been pretty proud of. I was surprised to see Shawn not far behind, curling the 30s with quite a bit of fervor. I go through my workout like usual, and Shawn follows behind me, obviously copying my workout. I don’t mind, and it feels good to be lifting more than him. Although, not as much more as I thought I would be. He’s only about 10-20 pounds behind me in most lifts. He must’ve really gone for it over the summer, getting those beginner gains before we got here. I look over at Kyle, and he’s talking to a few other guys at the squat rack, his shorts riding dangerously high on his ass, while a few others around him look on. He’s a bottom on a mission, and he’s letting the whole gym know. After about 45 minutes we wrap up with some stretches. Kyle starts talking to Shawn, “that’s the best I’ve ever felt during a workout. That protein powder was great!” “Yeah, Izzy said that it’s a new experimental protein. I didn’t really understand everything she was saying, but it has some preworkout components to it, so it just jazzes you up.” “I definitely feel ‘jazzed up’, but I thought it was just the men in there!” Kyle says, laughing. I laugh too, but I take a quick glimpse at his shorts, noticing he’s sporting a noticeable semi, as is Shawn. Welp, look at that, so am I now. We head down to the showers, and Shawn strips naked immediately. He looks great, his pump making him look even bigger than he did yesterday, and... do I find myself looking up into his eyes? I mean, I guess I noticed that he grew yesterday, but it’s even more noticeable now. I try not to look down, but there I go anyways, and I see his dick, still somewhat hard, looking as great as ever. I quickly head over to a shower stall and lock it, hoping I didn’t stare too much, or my erection was too noticeable. Him and Kyle follow shortly behind, taking the stalls to my left and right. The water starts flowing, and I get in and out. As I walk back to my locker, I notice that Shawn didn’t quite close the stall door all the way, and he’s straight up jerking off in the stall. He’s playing with his nipple while he leans against the wall, and looks like he is in pure ecstasy. Filing that away for later. I change, and, not wanting to wait around too long, head back to my room on my own. About 20 minutes later I hear some laughter coming down the hallway, and Kyle joins me in the room. “Hey Colton! Where did you go?!” “Oh, I just didn’t want to wait around for y’all. I take quick showers.” “Yeah, sorry about that. I usually do too, but I was just so horny, I ended up jerking off in the shower! It’s like I had to!! I have never felt that way before. I’m telling you, Colton, that protein powder is something else. I feel great too!! I mean, look at me! This is the best I have ever looked!” With that, Kyle flexed his arms, and he looks notably more muscular than he did this morning. I must not have been paying attention. I mean, his gym clothes are VERY tight. It is strange that both of them were jerking off in the showers, though. Must be some horny goat’s weed in that experimental mixture too. I may have to give it a go the next time we head to the gym.... To be continued!
  5. Guest

    (Un)even rivals (9)

    Nine Three days had gone since Jeremy had taken the beating from Ted. His heavily muscled, 265 pound body felt better with every passing hour; his recuperation working overtime to repair the damage. He actually felt capable of getting up from the mattress for the first time since his confrontation with the teen beast. A faint sound made him look aside and he saw his smaller former rival, now trainer awake. Chris opened his eyes and looked straight at the huge bodybuilder on the mattress next to his. A faint smile highlighted the muscle god's face and he asked: "How do you feel today, Jeremy?". "Way better, man. My body has nearly recovered", Jeremy replied and sat up. "Is it true that you stole my muscles?", Chris asked as he got up, walked over to the other mattress and sat down, facing the 100 pound heavier man. Jeremy stared down to avoid his former rival's gaze. "I… ehm…", he mumbled. "Is it?", Chris asked again as he put his hand under the muscle god's chin and gently lifted up his head to make eye contact. "Yes", Jeremy muttered ashamed. "Why?", Chris inquired. "I… I was tired of coming in second behind you. I mean, you're a year younger than me and still outclassed me during our competitions. I tried bulking up but lacked the vascularity to even face you in the final. Roids weren't an option. I found a website about voodoo, with a spell to realize my greatest desire: grow freaking huge. You were the only one that stood between me and dominating the sport…", Jeremy told. "And what about my cousin?", Chris interjected. "I needed some body fluid for the spell. Your cousin wanted to get back on you and needed a clean urine sample to get his gym membership. So we made a deal: he would get me a sweat drenched shirt of you and I would hand him one of my urine samples.", Jeremy continued. "That's why he wanted to arm wrestle. And why he stretched the struggle on purpose", Chris shouted in his higher pitched voice. Jeremy nodded. "You know what happened then: I used the spell and grew huge on your size. I even gain muscle more easily from my workouts now." "You probably stole my good genetics too", Chris added, "I always hated working out, but my muscles responded insanely fast. I only train twice a week and got this body. Well, not this one, but you know what I mean". "Can you forgive me, Chris?", Jeremy asked softly. "Off course, man. I no longer have to work out any more. And your body looks way better than mine ever did. Drives me mad just to look at you", Chris said and kissed the muscle god on his lips. The kiss surprised Jeremy, but he instinctively returned it, making his strong tongue snake into the smaller guy's mouth. He put his hands underneath his lover's ass to lift him up but felt the small guy shiver. "What's wrong? I'm not going to hurt you", he said as he broke the kiss. "I know", Chris replied, "It's my cousin. He's been raping my ass the past days. He made me chose between him beating you up every day or dominating me." "You let him rape you just to protect me? He's 200 pounds heavier than you. I'll protect you from now on", Jeremy said and took his smaller lover gently in his arms in a protective reflex. "Would you dare to take him on again?", Chris asked and let his frail hands roam the thick muscles of the wide torso he was pressed against. "I wouldn't stand a chance, but to protect you, yes", Jeremy said, enjoying the feeling of his muscles being groped. "And what if we would even the odds a bit?", Chris stated and wormed himself free from his bigger lover's hold. "How?", Jeremy asked and watched the smaller guy walk over to his own mattress. "My cousin left the papers with your voodoo stuff in here to make me see how you stole my muscles", Chris said as he took the papers from underneath his mattress, "but he forgot to take out the page with the spell on it. I've read and reread the entire text. As I get it, the spell is still active in me but apparently your current size is what you want to be". "I don't want to take any more muscle from you. Not after everything you did for me", Jeremy replied abruptly. "Not what's left of my muscle, I like my current size too. Not having to bother to go to the gym anymore", Chris stated, "But I could use the spell to take tom's muscle and pass them to you through me." "Why not your cousin's muscles? I'ld be freaking massive!", Jeremy asked. "He's too big to control him during the transfer. He would beat you up before you could match him. You're already bigger than Tom so you can easily dominate him. Then you'll be big enough to take on my cousin", Chris said. "Off to the gym", Ted boomed in his deep baritone voice. He roughly pulled Tom's head from his cock and shoved the 205 pound bodybuilder away. He got dressed and strutted out off the bathroom. Tom waited to get up from the tilled floor until he heard the door slam shut and the beastly teen's car race off. He wiped the sticky remnants of the teen beast's orgasm from his face and wrapped a towel around his muscular waist. He walked through the hallway on his way to grab some breakfast when the small Chris emerged from his room. "You have to see this, man", Chris said to the 40 pounds heavier bodybuilder and went back in his room. "What?", Tom asked and stepped inside. "ME!", Jeremy boomed and grabbed the bodybuilder's wrists. Tom struggled with all his might but his opponent outsized him by 60 pounds of pure muscle. He tried resisting but the bigger god head-butted him and he crashed down. "Put him on the bed", Chris said to his huge lover. Jeremy did as he was told and swiftly tossed the knocked out bodybuilder atop his mattress. "Now strip", Chris said. He pulled away Tom's towel and took off his own clothes. He looked at how the nude Tom eclipsed him completely. He looked up and stared at the naked, muscular perfection as Jeremy stood next to the bed and dwarfed the other bodybuilder. "Go stand at the end of the mattress", he said to Jeremy as he laid down and put his head against the naked Tom. Jeremy moved as instructed and looked down on the two smaller men lying on the mattress, his dick plump at the thought of growing even bigger. "What are you waiting for, big guy? Get your cock in me. I want to feel you grow massive", Chris said. Jeremy blinked at the remark but noticed the determined look in his smaller lover's eyes. He slowly sat down on his knees at the end of the mattress and pulled the smaller guy toward him. He gently eased his now fully hard 7 incher inside his lover without removing his gaze from the smaller guy's blue eyes. "Fuck ", Chris grunted in pleasure as he felt the huge bodybuilder's pubes brush against his ass. His back arched up in sheer bliss and he fell back down, his head touching the knocked out Tom's torso. "Ready to grow beastly?", he asked and looked into his already huge lover's eyes. Jeremy nodded, his lust as strong as his smaller lover's one. "Here we go", Chris said, " Gargak Profundis atque venerabilis, Ggrrtjzaku dzedzikoirku! Translatio vigoris mei et essentiae meae, Ggrrtjzaku dzedzikoirku!". A surge of power shot through his 159 pound body as a wave of hotness flowed from the knocked out bodybuilder into him. At the same time a coldish weakness formed in his stomach and a draining feeling formed in his ass. "Yeah", Jeremy grunted as he felt a jolt of hotness tingle along his rock-hard 7 incher and flow into him. The feeling spread across his 265 pound physique. He closed his eyes and threw back his head in pleasure. The mixed feelings of warmth and cold, strength and weakness whirled through Chris. His lust for turning his lover into beastly perfection intensified the spell and he felt the power flowing from his ass into the throbbing cock inside him. Jeremy's eyes were still closed in pleasure as he felt a warm pump flow from his rock-hard 7 incher into his stomach and spreading across his thickly muscled frame. "Mugh", he groaned as he felt his steely muscles harden all over his godly body. . His body surged with growth, powered by Tom's muscles and Chris' desire to make him colossal. Chris' eyes widened in lust and admiration as he stared at the unbelievably hot scene unfolding in front of him: his huge lover evolved into sheer, colossal muscular perfection. Veins exploded across the growing masses of hard, meaty muscles as the 265 pound bodybuilder swelled beyond huge. His already broad shoulders doubled in width as his delts turned into cannonballs; his meaty pecs tripled in size, forming half-watermelon-sized slabs of beef that made his nipples point straight down and formed a rack that obscured half of his developing six-pack; his six-pack evolved accordingly and his abs grew into cobblestone-sized, hard bricks and turned into an armor-hard eight-pack; his 22 inch arms ballooned to 35 inches in mere seconds, turning his thick arms into meaty hams hanging at his sides; his heavily muscled quads that were positioned beside Chris' torso, thickened into tree-sized pillars of muscle and pushed into the smaller guy's sides. Chris' legs, wrapped around his swelling lover's torso, were pushed open as the strong lower back broadened and overpowered them. His ass, stretched tight around the growing cock deep inside it, was pulled up as the huge bodybuilder also grew in height. The sight and feeling of his heavily muscled lover growing in front and inside of him was too much for Chris. His own throbbing 7 incher twitched and smacked against the corrugated landscape that was the beastly eight-pack. "Jeremy!", he yelled out in lust as he exploded against the cobblestone-sized abs, his meager load squirting into the deep ridges between the thick, hard muscles. Jeremy opened his eyes as he felt the liquid rub against his stomach and heard his former rival groan his name. He gazed down and noted how childishly small His lover looked next to him. A grin spread across his face as an idea crossed his mind. "Wrap your legs around me. tight", he rumbled in his deepened baritone. The muscle god's deep voice vibrated in Chris' body and made him blow another load against the steely eight-pack. Instinctively, he did as he was told and tightened his legs around the marble-like hard torso. Jeremy felt the legs tighten against his more-than-hard lower back. He then stood up in a swift motion, his tree-sized quads flexing in the process. With his ham-like arms hanging at his sides, he supported the small guy's weight with his rock-hard cock. The pleasure combined with the look of utter reverence in the small guy's eyes sent him over the edge. He grabbed hold of his lover with his right paw, covering half his torso as his cock exploded hard and violently inside the tight ass. He saw his lover's stomach bloat as load after load of his thick spunk blasted in him. After ten heavy shots, his orgasm cooled down and he slowly pulled the small guy from his cock. His eyes widened as inch after inch of thick, meaty cock appeared from the frail ass. "Like it? I thought your cock should match your colossal muscle. So I adapted the spell a bit", Chris said with a grin and let his hands roam the stony mass of the muscle god's 35 inch right arm. Jeremy simply stared at his now 15 incher that protruded proudly in front of his majestic body. "Yeah! Huge like Ted!", he boomed in his deepened voice and put his lover gently down on the mattress. "But way better looking. Your proportions are perfect. Seems like you grew taller to match your new size", Chris said in utter amazement. Unlike his bulky looking cousin, Jeremy still maintained his perfect symmetry, looking like a colossal, yet capable-of-swift-movements athlete. Jeremy simply looked contest ready: his paper-thin skin was wrapped tightly around his bulging muscles; striations were visible on every mound of hard beef even though he stood fully relaxed. Jeremy threw a few poses to showcase his new physique, his skin stretching to accommodate the new girth of his massive, vein-decorated muscles. "Fuck! Look at my bi's! Boulders of beef!, he said as he raised his arms in a double bicep pose, making the meaty mounds swell into their now 35 inches. He lowered his arms and bounced his pecs. The protruding rack of muscles danced atop his chest, striations and veins undulating across the half watermelons crammed under his stretched skin. He shook his tree-sized left leg, making the incredible mass of his quads role from left to right, and flexed it: deep canyons exploded aside the thick heads of muscle fed by veins snaking over them. His slowly deflating, still half-hard cock jolted and smacked against the steely hard leg. "Thanks man", he said as he relaxed his leg and looked down at his small lover on the mattress, "you made my bigger beyond my wildest dreams. Even after I stole your size. How can I ever repay you?". He gently grabbed hold of the smaller guy's armpits and lifted him off the mattress. "We'll figure something out, big guy", Chris said, enjoying the feeling of being hoisted up by the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. He wrapped his arm around the muscle god, or tried to. His huge lover's back was so wide that his arms didn't make it past the massive, cannonball-sized delts: his frail hands grabbed the meaty mass of the rear delt, unable to dent the hard surface. He leaned into the massive body, the protruding rack of pecs pleasurably pressing against his own weak chest, and kissed the muscle god's lips. Jeremy returned his smaller lover's kiss. He wrapped one anaconda-like arm gently around the 159 pound guy to support him, his free paw grabbed the back of the guy's head and pulled him in; at the same time, his tongue invaded his lover's mouth. Chris was overwhelmed with pleasure and his cock raced back to hardness between his own softened abs and the concrete-like eight-pack. Black dots began dancing before his eyes as the muscle god kept kissing him. He tapped the rear delts with all his might to make clear he was in need of air. Jeremy grumbled at the soft tickles of his small lover against his shoulders. He opened his eyes and noticed the dark red color of the guy's face, realizing he was suffocating. He broke the kiss. Chris inhaled deeply as he let his body rest against the hot, hard surface of the now colossal Jeremy. The sound of the back door slam shut signaled Ted's return. "Yo, Tom!", the beastly teen boomed as he tossed his gym bag on the floor. "Where ya hidding, ya runt?", he yelled as he took a gallon of milk from the fridge, mixed it with an insane amount of protein powder and gulped down the impossibly large drink in three long gulps. "My cousin's bony ass will have to do", he said to himself and strutted out off the kitchen. The sound of the heavy footsteps slowly climbing the stairs vibrated through the house as the teen beast went up. Chris jumped up on his mattress as the door of his room was ripped open violently. He instinctively crawled back against the wall as his massive cousin swaggered inside. A smug grin formed on Ted's lips at his weak cousin's reaction and at the look of fear in his eyes. He slowly walked toward the mattress against the furthest wall of the room. His cock twitched in anticipation inside his boxers. Despite having jerked three times in the shower after his workout, he was ready for another round. "STOP TIGHT THERE!" A deep, booming command filled the room, rolled against the walls and rattled the windows. Ted turned around in surprise. The grin disappeared from his face as a huge man worked his way through the door. "Who the fuck…?", he asked without taking his eyes off the colossal bodybuilder. "Don't you recognize me?", Jeremy asked and stood still just inside the room, "I did get a little bigger since our last meeting". He clenched his right fist, making his forearm ripple with strength as its corded muscles tensed and his upper arm harden in the process. Ted's eyes glistened as he recognized Jeremy. He scanned the massive muscles on the guy's bare torso and noticed he was wearing a pair of his sweatpants that were nicely filled out by his legs. "Let's ditch this", Jeremy said and moved toward the teen beast with one long stride. He grabbed the guy's shirt and tore if off his beastly body in a swift motion, exposing the other giant's torso. Standing 6 feet tall, Ted had to look up to look in the now massive Jeremy's eyes. He took an instinctive step backward. Chris stared at the two giant's. At 6'5, Jeremy towered above his cousin, but the beastly teen's muscles looked bigger on his more compact frame. Coming direct from the gym, his cousin's shoulders and arms were still pumped. "No longer the biggest stud", Jeremy said to Ted and bounced his pecs as he spoke, "Let's go and don't bother us ever again!". Ted looked at the half watermelons dance atop the other giant's chest. He closed his right paw in a fist, pulled back his massive arm and slammed it with all his might into the deeply grooved eight-pack in front of him. Jeremy blinked in surprise: the sledgehammer-like fist had hit his cobblestone-sized abs at full force with a loud smack but the punch had bounced off the steely hard surface without even denting it. "That all you got?", he asked mockingly and returned the favor. Ted couldn't believe that his devastating blow hadn't done any damage. Before he could react, the other giant slammed his own fist into his six-pack. He grunted faintly as he felt his strong abs give in slightly. He threw another punch against the eight-pack, but Jeremy clenched his abs just in time, making the punch bounce off once more. Jeremy saw the look of disbelieve on the beastly teen's face and hit the guy's six-pack a second time. This time his fist encountered a fully flexed brick-like wall, not giving in the slightest. Ted didn't give the huge bodybuilder any time to pull back his thick arm: he grabbed hold of the guy's massive shoulders and pulled him down. Chris saw the two giants slump down and continue their fight on the floor. It was a pile of heaving, sweaty muscle that rolled back and forth, paws locked into each other and straining as the two muscle gods fought for dominance. Ted somehow ended up on top and threw a hard punch in Jeremy's face, bruising his left cheek as the bodybuilder turned his head to avoid the punch. Ted grabbed hold of Jeremy's clawing arms and pushed them down to the floor behind the guy's head. "Not so tough after all", he grunted as he tried to bring down the massive arms completely. Jeremy fought back and managed to block the teen beast's advance. His tree-sized arms shook with effort against the inhumane strength of his opponent. He suddenly gave in and pulled with all his force, making the beastly teen lose his balance and fall forward over him. Ted rolled over the other giant and quickly jumped back on his feet. He turned around and saw Jeremy charge at him. He braced his 367 pound body for the impact but the momentum of the bodybuilder's 365 pound body threw him backward against the wall. The wall cracked with a loud sound and in a cloud of dust, the two giants knocked through it and crashed into the master bedroom. Ted blinked his eyes in mild pain: his back ached a bit from breaking through the wall. He looked around and a hard punch slammed into his six-pack. "Ugh", he grunted as some air was forced out of him and his abs dented in. "Get up!", Jeremy groaned as he withdrew his fist and took a step back. Ted stared up at his colossal opponent. He closed his paw around a thick, wooden beam between the debris from the wall. He sprang up and smacked the beam hard against the massive Jeremy's protruding chest, shattering it to shreds as it made contact with the slabs of muscle. "ugh", Jeremy grunted in surprise and pain at the impact. He stumbled back a bit, more in surprise than in pain. Ted moved in and punched the huge bodybuilder's lower back, hitting him in the kidneys. "Ugh", Jeremy groaned a bit louder and sank down on one knee as a second sucker punch hit him in the kidneys. He felt the beastly teen's hands pass underneath his armpits to take him in a full nelson. He leaned forward, pulling the teen beast off balance. Ted released his grip to regain his balance and his opponent was up in a flash. He reached for the massive Jeremy but the guy made the same move and their hands locked together. Chris didn't dare to move. He followed the fight by the sounds coming from the other room. He knew the two giants would crush him, even by accident, if he got in their way. Jeremy and Ted stood fighting to get the upper hand, their huge anaconda-sized arms straining and bulging from the effort and their hands moving back and forth. Ted threw everything he got into the fight, but the other muscle god did the same. Their faces were red from the effort, their chests heaving and their mounds of muscles pumped with blood. Ted felt his strength fading slightly: he'd worn out his muscles in the gym earlier. His legs started to shake slightly as he summoned more power to stand his ground. Jeremy noticed the hardening strain on the beastly teen's face and felt the faint quiver go through the guy's 35 inch arms. He suddenly stopped pushing. Ted was taken by surprise by the other muscle god's maneuver: he lost his balance and fell forward, smacking into the massive torso in front of him. Jeremy had anticipated this and unlocked his hands from the other bodybuilder's. He wrapped his arms around the beastly teen's torso and applied a bone crushing bear hug. Ted squirmed in the vice-like grasp. He clenched his fist to make his arms swell and harden. He summoned every ounce of strength and managed to loosen the hold. Jeremy felt his hands slide apart as the beastly teen squirmed and flexed in his grasp. The 367 pound guy's power couldn't be denied and he had to release his bear hug. Ted inhaled deeply to refill his lungs with oxygen. He didn't allow his opponent to recover: he quickly wrapped his own 35 inch arms around the bodybuilder's torso and pressed with all his remaining strength. "Ugh", Jeremy grunted more in surprise than pain. Despite the beastly teen's efforts, his own muscles withstood the attack. He could even feel the 367 pound guy's power wear off. "YEAH!", he roared deeply as he broke free from the hold and shoved the teen beast back hard. Ted was caught by surprise as he was overpowered for the first time in years. "No", he blurted in disbelief and fell backward. It felt like juvy all over again: for an instant he was once again the wimpy, skinny boy being picked on by the bigger guys. Jeremy moved in: het grabbed the beastly teen's sweatpants and lifted the 367 pound guy up. "Now leave us alone!", he roared and threw the teen beast through the door, sending him crashing into the bathroom. He felt all powerful after taking down his colossal opponent and began flexing his superb physique in the large mirrors against the furthest wall. Ted shook his head and blinked his eyes. He was lying in the middle of the bathroom along with the contents of the cupboard he'd knocked down when he flew in. He noticed a familiar, black, little box amidst the heap. He opened it with shaking hands and 6 doses of the new designer steroids he was on, rolled in his paw. He grabbed an empty syringe and filled it with three doses. He lowered his skintight sweatpants and overstuffed boxers and injected the thick fluid in his left testicle. He repeated the process for his right testicle. A rush of warmth, energy and adrenaline radiated from his balls into his body. He pulled his boxers and pants back up and got up. He turned around and saw the other colossal bodybuilder flexing in the lengthy mirror inside the master bedroom. Jeremy ogled his majestic physique in the mirror: he couldn't wait to get on stage and crush his puny competitors. He couldn't even call them 'rivals': he would outclass them in every way possible. He closed his eyes as feelings of dominance and victory filled his mind. A hard blow on his lower back made him come back to reality. A second one knocked the wind from him and made him slump down on one knee. In the mirror he saw Ted standing there. "Didn't have enough?", he asked as he got up. Two heavy punches on his upper back made him sink back down. Ted saw the look of pain on the massive Jeremy's face and stepped back, motioning him to get up. Jeremy got up and turned to face the beastly teen. He moved in and once more, their hands locked into each other to fight for dominance. His 35 inch arms bulged and shook as he pushed with all his might. His pumped muscles started to burn from the earlier fight. Ted 's equally meaty arms shivered also but he could feel the designer steroid doing its work: the massive dose injected into his balls was forcing them to produce testosterone beyond human levels. He felt his arms pulse with power as the tremendous amount of testosterone began releasing into his bloodstream. Jeremy felt fatigue and cramp spreading slowly across his bulging arms. He would swear that the beastly teen's resistance was stronger than before he'd beaten the guy and seemed to get stronger with every passing second. Ted saw the increased strain on his huge opponent's face and felt the mild, but now steady shiver go through the 365 pound bodybuilder's massive arms. More energy flowed into his own anaconda-like arms with every surge of testosterone his balls released into his bloodstream. He felt his own strength increasing and the resistance in his grasp grow weaker and weaker. Jeremy couldn't prevent the shaking of his mighty arms: fatigue and cramps tormented his bulging biceps and corded forearms. Sweat was rolling from his forehead over his cheeks from the effort. He flexed his tree-sized quads, his legs hardening into an impressive sight, to summon every bit of strength left inside him. Ted felt the increased power of his opponent against his grasp, but his freshly energized and continually fed arms repelled the attack. Jeremy's entire body was starting to tremble as he fought with everything he had against the beastly teen. He suddenly stopped pushing and pulled to throw the teen beast off balance. Ted's colossal body didn't budge an inch as the 365 pound bodybuilder tried pulling him in. Jeremy knew he was in trouble as his maneuver failed: spasms and cramps shot through his body as he felt his strength waning further and further. "My turn", Ted said in a somehow deeper voice and yanked at his opponent's hands. Jeremy instantly lost his balance and smacked against the rock-hard torso of the teen beast. His head shot back and he groaned in pain as the beastly teen's meaty arms closed around his own hyper-muscled torso. Ted didn't flex his arms or clench them together: he simply held the 365 pound bodybuilder in his steely grasp. By now, the testosterone was flowing rapidly into his muscles, making them swell and harden. Jeremy tried squirming free, but his fatigued muscles protested. He knew he had to let them recover and pretended he passed out to fool his opponent. He felt the steely grasp tighten and harden with every passing second. He inhaled deeply and made his move. He summoned every ounce of strength he could scrape together in his 365 pound body and squirmed with everything he had. Ted felt the massive Jeremy's resistance, but it was no use: it felt feeble and didn't budge his hardening arms a bit. The testosterone coursing through his body and now flooding his muscles had totally refreshed his energy levels. The time Jeremy had taken to make his own muscles recover, Ted had grown 20 pounds heavier. Jeremy opened his eyes and a look of pure horror filled his face: the beastly teen that held him tightly secured in his grasp was clearly growing. He tried resisting, but his own majestic body didn't move an inch inside the vice-like hold. An evil grin spread across Ted's lips at the look on the huge bodybuilder's face. It felt like the guy was getting lighter and lighter in his grasp, but he knew it was his own body that grew beastlier with every passing second. His once 35 inch arms were rounding the 40 inch mark as he felt his growth slowdown. His body now matched Jeremy's exactly in height, but he outsized the 365 pound muscle god by 50 pounds of pure, hard muscle. Jeremy howled in pain as the teen beast hardened his biceps and made the stony boulders dig into his own heavily muscled flanks. "Let's end this once and for all", Ted growled in an insanely deep baritone that rattled the windows and hardened his flex. Jeremy flexed with all his remaining might to withstand the crushing power but it was no use: he passed out as his ribs gave in with a sickening, cracking sound. "Yeah!", Ted boomed as he crushed the 365 pound bodybuilder's ribs. He pulled back his right arm, made a huge fist and smacked it hard into the muscle god's face. The stony fist sank deep into the once epitome of male beauty and now bloody mess that was Jeremy's face. "NO!" The weak cry made the beyond colossal Ted turn around. He saw his puny cousin standing in the opening of the shattered wall. He tossed the now lifeless Jeremy hard on the floor and moved toward his childish-looking cousin. "Ya're next!"… The end?
  6. mmbottomenergy

    Ben and Will - Chapter 5

    Chapter 5: After my first day working out with Fred, I was beat. Hours on end, we pumped every muscle in our bodies until we lost track of time altogether. I think I strained my body so much I became numb to the pain, because once I got home I wasn’t able to feel much of anything. Until I hit the shower, that was. The pain came surging back once the hot water hit me, so I took my shower cold. Most of the time, I would cringe at the thought using coke water to wash myself, but it helped numb the pain back down a bit. After heading out of the shower, I didn’t even have the energy to get dressed into something. I pretty much dragged myself over to my bedroom and collapsed onto the mattress. - THE NEXT DAY - When I got to the gym this morning, Fred was already there warming up. “Hey, there he is! Sleep well?” he asked. “Yeah, actually,” I replied, trying not to pay attention to his noticeably half-hard dick through his gym shorts. “I didn’t even have the energy to change last night so I slept naked.” Fred gave me a glance I knew all too well - the “wish I could’ve been there” look, complete with a cocky smirk on his face he quickly corrected, hoping I hadn’t noticed. ”I know we kinda did full body yesterday, wanna just hit legs today?” My upper body needed a break after what I put it through the day before. “Yeah, totally,” Fred replied, trying to nonchalantly ignore the look he had given me. “Cool, sounds like a plan.” We headed over to the leg press, ready for a long day of leg workouts. That wasn’t the only thing on my mind, though. It was only my second day at the gym with Fred, and he had already taken control of my libido. God, he was so hot. I stood there while I was “spotting” him, just watching his cock move around in his shorts as his quads strained to contain themselves in the fabric. His shorts were a size too small, probably on purpose to make himself seem bigger. It worked, I was practically drooling thinking about all the things I wanted him to do to me. Halfway through the day, after both of us had finished on the leg press, we started doing squats. As we were squatting, Fred looked over at me. He stared me in the eyes for a few seconds, looked down at my crotch where I was sporting an obvious boner, went back up to my face and said, “Wanna hit the locker rooms after we’re done?” I couldn’t believe it. He stole the word right out of my mouth. “We’re on the same page then?” I asked. “Totally.”
  7. Host: Hello everyone and welcome to another season of "Gainers". I am your host Freddi Fit and you may remember me from becoming the muscle alpha I am today on our very first season just three years ago. *Freddi Fit raises a double bicep flex, stretching his button down short sleeves to their limit. "After all, who can forgot that glorious moment when I was voted to steal everything from Hank The Tank who had been growing massive all season. It was a major upset and the audience was ready to see a new alpha show that brute a lesson. Since then I've been living the dreams as America's hunkiest bodybuilder. Well tonight this dream begins once again with 8 brand new contestants. After twelve weeks, one of them will be left with a hulking body while the others leave smaller than they came. And like always, every week you the audience will decide who gets what. Now let's not waste any time here and meet our contestants. Screen switches to contestant video number one. A nineteen year old college wrestler named Cam. "Hey everyone! The name is Cameron, or Cam for short. I've been wrestling for six years and I can't wait to show the other men who the real jock is gonna be. Maybe if you're lucky you might even see me put some of them in headlocks and drain the muscle from them." Screen switches to contestant video number two. A 39 year old college professor who has been working out for many years. "Hello everyone, it Max here. I've been a health science teach for about 10 years and have always wanted more in life. I'm hoping to win and become the next leading model for muscle god magazine. Either way, I'm hoping to teach the other men a thing or two about what it means to be blessed with muscle." Screen switches to contestant number 3. A 24 year old ex fire fighter who recently begun a modeling career. "If you thought fighting fires was hot, wait till you see me on nothing but my suspenders. Hey everyone my names chad. Make sure you vote for me this season so I can become the muscular flame that makes you sweat." Screen switches to contestant number 4. A 31 year old cop from NYC. "Hey. It's Stu. I've been lifting ever since becoming a cop, but to keep the streets safe, I'm going to need your help to grow my guns and have the fire power needed to intimidate the bad guys and fight crime." Screen switches to contestant number 5. A 27 year old businessman. "Hello everyone, being a businessman keeps me quite busy. So I'm going to need your help building these muscles as big as they can get so I can really fill out my suites nicely! By the way, the name is Dominique." Screen switches to contestant number 6. A 42 year old father. "Hello everyone. My name Ken. Before I had children I was in pretty good shape. However since then I've begun to get out of shape. I need your help to be bigger and better than I was when I was younger." Screen switches to contestant number 7. A 21 year old college graduated pursuing a career in acting. "Hey y'all. Zac here. I've been trying to make it big as an actor but you know they are looking for muscular guys these days. Help me become a jacked up actor." Screen switches to contestant number 8. A 25 year old man living in his parents house. "Hi everyone. I'm Tony, and I've been having a really hard time finding a job. Can you help me you help me out and give me the chance to pursue a career in fitness and get the hell out of my parents house. They'd really appreciate it as well!" Tony is clearly the smallest guy. Although he still has slight hints of muscle, there isn't much for the others to take. Host: "Well don't we just have a great batch this year. The group will be entering the growth cell now where they will spend the next 12 weeks changing. Go online now to vote for your top 4 favorite guys who will receive a special serum boost tomorrow night to start off the game. And don't forget to send in your nicknames for each dude. The most votes will decide what we call each contestant from here on. Anyways. Goodnight Gainer fans! Freddi Fit signing off!" *Freddie fit solutes the camera and transitions in to an archer pose as the credits roll.*
  8. geektofreek

    Dwarfed by Dad

    Please excuse the errors as this was written on my phone. Enjoy! DWARFED BY DAD PART 1/4 It was shortly after my dad’s second divorce that he would start joining me at the gym. I was a hobbiest bodybuilder, at best, standing at five-foot-eleven and weighing in at around 235-pounds. He was definitely eager to get in shape, “impress the ladies”, to quote him correctly. Things started at a little slow, especially those first couples months. I wasn’t really holding my breath though, given the fact that he was pushing sixty-years old. But one week as we rinsed off in the locker room showers, after a nearly three-hour workout, I noticed the remarkable faint rippling of muscle beneath his usual beefy silver haired abdomen. Then as he raised his hands to wash his hair, there was slight bulge beneath his upper arms, a simple curvature, a bicep. “Looks like you’re finally showing some results, dad!” I proudly complimented “About time!” Dad said giving his arms a couple quick pumps, holding back his excited smirk. “Just the beginning I hope…” The unexpected scenario made me wonder, not by any means worryingly, just how big the old man was planning to get. I was excited to see his motivation. Seeing actual visual results had my dad pushing harder then ever after that day, so hard in fact, it felt like having an actual workout buddy, rather than just my father tagging along. “You ready to see these gains, dad?” It was towards the end of this one week, about seven weeks later, I felt so mammothly pumped from this totally insane new workout plan I was on, I honestly couldn't wait to see the results. A couple weeks back, we had agreed to only start weighing ourselves once a week, just for kicks. So with my dad standing next to me, showing the slightest signs of muscle bulging beneath his old man skin, I might add, we both stood on the gyms identical digital scales. At the time, he weighed about fifty-pounds less than I did, or so I thought. “How did I LOSE weight?” I blurted the words out loud, feeling my smirk, my pride, fall out my gut and onto the gym floor. All the work I had put in these last couple weeks, all that time, just seeing the loss of eight-pounds, on the scales digital readout, had me absolutely nauseous. It had to be an error, I thought. But I stepped back on, seeing the same readout, “239-pounds”. I was so close to finally reaching my goal of 250-pounds last week, it didn't make any sense! “Looks like the opposite over here, champ.” My dad delightfully remarked, making me turn piercingly, cringe my teeth even. The old man really did mean the opposite, standing there proudly next to me, pumping on his old arms, creating this ridiculously meaty bulge against his arm, this defined bicep, with the scale blinking a readout of 194-pounds, a gain of exactly eight-pounds. I'll be honest with you, seeing the slightly smaller gap between us, had me slightly anxious. “W-Wow...” I still tried to play it cool, with an embarrassing stutter. “I never thought that you would actually start gaining muscle, dad.” I’m pretty sure that statement just added fuel to the fire, as my old man, with those piercing blue grey eyes, turned to me looking like some arrogant teenager, the glamour of a new challenge, twinkling behind his once bored now lustful eyes. The next day, he showed up strapped into proper gym clothes, bulging even bigger than yesterday, or so it looked. I figured it was just a different clothing size, but then, and I know this sounds crazy, it was almost becoming impossible, as the days went on, to even keep up. “Look at this, champ!” Dad raised his bulging silver muscle arm in front of my face. “Sleeves are getting tight…” He had gained ANOTHER eight-pounds since last week. The small curving mound of muscle had developed into a full blown peak, this enormous baseball, stuffed beneath his silver haired old man arms. Dad couldn’t help but love showing off his incredible developments, at the gym, at home, even at the grocery store. I'll admit though, they were incredible to look at, even though I was still bigger, it was just crazy to see that kind of muscle on a man old enough to be most people's grandpa. “Now my shorts are getting tight…” Another week past, and this time he gained TEN-POUNDS of muscle. I couldn't believe it. In fact, most days I wanted to be sick. With all that extra weight, he was now less than twenty-pounds away from outgrowing me, this huge bodybuilding grandpa, in just a matter of months, weighing in 212-pounds of muscle. Just like he said, his shorts, the brand new ones he had only too recently bought, were now bulging with insane dimensions of his veiny bloated silver old man muscle thighs, disgustingly cupping his groin area obscenely, especially when he would squat. “J-Jesus, dad, I’ve never seen anything like it…” I still tried to play it cool, liked the avid bodybuilding I am. “You’re telling me, kid” Dad lifted up his shirt, revealing this EIGHT-pack of abs. “I’m EXPLODING with muscle” I dropped my jaw, the whole gym did. What fucking sixty-year old has hairy deep cut chiseled abs! On top of that, he looked almost twice as ripped as yesterday, with this iron-plated-v jutting down into his sagging, yet horrendously overstuffed and bulging, neon gym shorts. That day, while we were in the shower, I honestly couldn't stop staring, gawking, and my dad just ate it all up. How was he growing so fast!? To make matters worse, as far as feeling emasculated, that is, I was born practically hairless, barely any hair on my body at all, “baby smooth”, my dad would often comment. “I look like a fucking KING!” Dad, however, as he spouted his arrogance, lavishly rubbed and soaped up his growing rippling display of hairy meaty male muscle cleavage, rubbing and pinching his flapjack-sized nipples, getting off on his prowess, all his newfound power, like some total king, just like he said, this unstoppable growing alpha man. RIIIPPPPPP RRIIIIIPPPPPPP “GOD-damn, would you look at that!” Two weeks later, dad finally grew to the point of bursting through his first article of clothing. He said the words so delightfully, looking unapologetically smug, like he expected this to happen, turning his gaze delightfully, raising his arm, to see the small gaping hole on the underside of sleeve, right in the middle of his huge sweaty hairy armpit. He was so playful and curious, some big kid at the breakfast table, fingering the small opening almost like it was pussy, even going as far as slightly tearing it, which seemed to gave him an idea. It was with a devilish chuckle, like a lightbulb going off in his head, he raised that same arm and gave it a mighty and monstrous flex. RIIIIPPPPPP “GUNS bigger than Superman's!” He roared as his bicep, this totally massive bowling ball of chiseled hairy perfection, suddenly exploded through his sleeve, an atomic-bomb going off, blowing the fabric apart into a million threaded pieces, a scene out usually only my comic books, my dreams, all while I was eating breakfast. Then, continuing his disgusting piggish muscle show, he held up and squeezed the huge chiseled peak of old man muscle, right into his face, with so much silver hair flaring out, it was if a forest had grown in this entirely monstrous muscle cave, but it was just armpit “Fuck, I smell like an APE!” Dad gave his armpit a big whiff, inexplicably wafting his horrendous sweaty odor into my face, so sultry it made my dick suddenly bulge underneath the table. I wasn't gay, but fuck, he was just so manly. With my mouth completely dropped open, the half-eaten bacon and eggs falling back to my plate, I knew it would be hard for dad to not keep demonstrating and showing off his superior growing muscle strength. RRIIIIPPPPP “FUCK, yeah!” It wasn't long before he quickly raised his other arm, in a detonating fashion, with an equally loud laugh, a pleasing roar, as his other bicep exploded through the fabric even faster than the first. With both arms free, he began taking turns flexing and posing each magnificent peak of hairy muscle, over twenty-inches now from the looks of it, nearly the same size as mine! He also tried to flex through the front of his shirt, inflating his chest, the enormous blimping grandpa male muscle cleavage, but thankfully he couldn't. That didn't stop him from whistling in delight, openly fantasizing about the prospect of getting even bigger. “Won't be much longer, kid. I expect I'll probably outgrow you by the end of the week…” “I didn't e-even realize you WANTED to grow so big…” I stuttered like a kid. “Are you kidding me? Now that I've got a taste, I don't think I EVER really want to stop growing…” Dad smirked wildly, as he continuously pumped his huge hairy meaty man arm, slowly walking away. I was speechless, dumbfounded, watching, as his big old man bubble butt gobbled and thundered the back of his skin tight gym shorts. I know it may sound kind of weird to note this, I swear, I'm completely straight. But I’m giving you all the details because, and I'm gulping just saying this, his sleeves, weren’t the only thing that he would destroy that day... ************************************************************ Comments are appreciated! ************************************************************ READ PART 2 HERE
  9. GEOFF and jim: Camp Avslapning Part 1 June 2010 I’d been looking forward to this trip for a while. A bunch of my friends – several from work and a few others – and I were heading to the mountains for a week. We had rented a hike-in-only camp comprising five sleeping cabins (each slept two to four adults), a mess hall, a washroom building divided into two – for men and women – with toilet stalls and gang style showers, and a bunch of outdoor facilities including a sauna (everyone and every place had one here), a wood burning cedar hot tub, and a cold dunk. The place was billed as a rustic retreat where you can get away from it all. The camp warned that there was no cell signal and so our mobile devices would not connect with our data plans. This sounded PERFECT for me. Typically I (and most of my co-workers) worked 60 hour weeks; we felt like we were always on call and expected to be on our email constantly. But, we had just finished a huge deal and several of us were getting away to celebrate. What better way than to be off the grid for 8 days? I got out of town late. A few things came up at work on Friday morning and I was driving out at 5 (I intended to leave at noon) – typical. Fortunately, it was the middle of June and the days were long (albeit cool given how far north we lived). I got to the trail head at 730p and while it didn’t ever get pitch black up here – it did get dark and I had a 7 kilometer hike ahead of me and knew that I had to hoof it. Although it was a bit cool (10 degrees or so) I only had a long sleeve shirt from REI on and some hiking pants – my jacket was in the outer pocket of my backpack. I parked my car, got out and headed to the back to get my pack on and get going. I caught my reflection in the car window and – I have to confess – I liked what I saw. At 45, I had a lean athletic build that filled out my shirt nicely. You could see the mounds of my pecs through my shirt, my muscular shoulders capped my 16.5” arms which filled out the sleeves, and my broad shoulders tapered down to a tight 29” waist. You couldn’t see my legs because of my pants, but my ass was perky (I turned around to catch a glimpse) from my hip thrusts, deadlifts, and squats. AT 5-10 and 175 pounds I was an athletic middle aged man with a silver beard. And I relished the opportunity to show off my physical dominance over other men – whether it was at my box (its what we called our functional fitness gym), the gym where I lifted weights, or wrestling around in my gay wrestling league. I put my backpack on, took one final quick look at myself in the reflection (damn I’m a hot alpha) and headed to the trail. At the trail head was a sign 7K to Camp Avslapning. Attached to the sign was a note: Hey Jim, sorry you had to get a late start. As an FYI – you’ll be bunking with Geoff. See you when you get here. “Huh,” I thought, “I haven’t seen Geoff in 5 years. It’ll be good to catch up.” And with that I headed off. It was a challenging trail – even for me. But that didn’t stop my mind from wondering a bit. I was thinking back to the last time Geoff and I had hung out. He was Jane’s (my co-worker) younger brother. I had just moved here and Jane was hosting a welcome party for me at her flat. Geoff was visiting her from the US. He was 20 years old and in the middle of his engineering degree. He had just come out and I could tell he had a crush on me. He was tall, 6’3”, handsome face with a sharp jaw line, curly blond hair, but skinny. Sopping weight he weighed - at most – 150lbs. We chatted most of the night – we both got a little bit tipsy – and agreed to meet up a couple days later. We had brunch and I told him I liked to wrestle (was part of a wrestling league in University). He said that he always found it interesting and I invited him back to my place to roll around. I’m ashamed to admit that I took quite a bit of pleasure in wiping the floor with him. I know I walked the line – almost pushed it too far – his exclamations of agony let me know that I was effectively using my muscular body to inflict a bit of pain… and I may have held some holds just a bit longer than I should have; but, it was all in good fun and he assured me that he enjoyed himself. His semi-hardon confirmed that for me, too. We hung out quite a bit that summer, five years ago. We wrestled a lot – I dominated him, we had lunch and dinners together on the weekend, hiked in the mountains just outside of town, and went rock climbing quite a bit. I could see in his blue eyes that he was smitten for me. He’d ask me to flex my arms for him, for permission to rub his hands on my washboard abs, and would even request a pec bounce or two. I told him the price of admission was that he had to allow me to squeeze out a few wrestling submissions from his lips… he always agreed and I always took it right up to the line. I even taught him some safe words to let me know if I was approaching his limit or had crossed over (I only crossed over a couple of times). But, he was 20 years younger and was just a rail. I like my subs to have some meat on them – some ability to fight back. A sub that is tough to control is just more fun. I wonder how Geoff’s been. I may even wipe the cabin floor with him again. I smirked and headed off at a fast pace. Two and a half hours later I was hiking into camp. It was dusk and cool – maybe 5 degrees. In spite of this, I was sweaty and felt exhilarated. At the entrance to cap was a map with a note attached to it. Hey Jim, you’ll be with Geoff in Cabin 2. Figured with your love of fitness and activity, you’d appreciate the hike to it. Geoff is game, too. I looked at the map – Cabin 2 was way up the hill, isolated and out of the way. It was the furthest from any of the camp’s amenities. Probably a 10 minute walk from the nearest cabin and 15 from the showers. I walked into camp. It looked like everyone had headed to bed already. I was kinda surprised – I expected folks to be in the sauna or the hot tub. And I began my hike up to the Cabin. Cabin 2 was the only one with the light on. A few minutes later I was opening the door. I looked around – yup this is rustic. A concrete floor with a throw rug in the middle. And a single bunk bed. On the bottom bunk was what looked to be a bigger version of Geoff. He was spread out over the bed – it barely contained him – wearing a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants. He was reading a book. I saw him and thought “oh man the boy got fat, too bad.” On the top bunk he had spread out all of his stuff. Geoff looked up from his book a great big smile on his face. He saw me looking at the top bunk – with his stuff strewn all over it – and his smile took on a slightly different look. “JIM! Hey! It is so good to see you!” Geoff didn’t get up. “Geoff, wow man. Good to see you too! You’ve…… changed.” “Yeah, I’ve put on a bit of weight. Once I turned 21, I found it hard to keep the weight off… but what can you do?” “Yeah, well….. hey, there’s only one bunk bed in here. I thought all the cabins had two.” “Yeah” Geoff said, “we decided to move the other bunk that was in here down to Cabin 1 for Jane. She brought some friends with her and they all wanted to bunk together. I said you’d be game.” “Yeah sure.” I said, “Well, why don’t you help me move your stuff off the top bunk and we can catch up.” “I’ve got a better idea, Jim. Let’s wrestle for the top bunk. Whoever gets five submissions first can claim the top bunk.” “Well, I just hiked 7 K with a 20kilo pack on… but sure… it will probably be a bit more of a fair match that way.” Geoff just smiled. He stood up and removed his sweatshirt. My jaw dropped. What I had assumed to be a fat flabby body beneath that sweatshirt was the muscular body of a powerlifter. Only, Geoff had hardly any fat on him. I took in the sight – he was a gorilla. He had a thick powerful waist – probably 34” or so, but I could easily see his abs on his stomach as he breathed in and out. His pecs were massive – so much so that his nipples pointed down to the cold concrete floor. While I was taking in their sheer size, the left pec twitched – seemingly unbeknownst to Geoff. As it did so, ripples emerged just under his tight skin. He had veins running up and down his arms and shoulders and a couple across his pecs. His traps were like mounds sitting on either side of his massive neck. He bent over to remove his sweat pants. I got quick flash of his massive and muscular back. It was thick with mounds of muscle – powerful. When his sweat pants were removed, he revealed massive legs that were proportionate to the rest of his powerful body; he was wearing briefs that barely contained his glutes. His thighs were at least 30” of muscle, his calves bulged and dwarfed my upper arms. And, as with his upper body, hardly any fat was visible. It was all granite muscle. And across his entire body was a thick mound of body hair – almost fur. Geoffrey was a beast. This is going to be fun, I thought to myself. I loved to dominate muscle subs. And what stood before me was the epitome of muscle subs. Geoff saw that I was taking in his body with a greedy delight. He smiled. “You like what you see, now?” As he spoke he reached up and ran his right hand through his hair, his right bicep bulged as he did so (he wasn’t flexing). “Yeah Geoff, you’ve been working out!” “I have. I’m up to 260 pounds now. My arms were 22” when I measured them a couple months ago. But with my supplements they may be 22.5” by now.” He flexed his right bicep as he said this and it erupted in a mountain of muscle. He lowered his arm and bounced his pecs. He bounced them in sync and then one at a time. They were so hefty I could almost hear them as they lifted and dropped with each flex. And, striations beneath his chest hair appeared and disappeared with each contraction. He smiled. “Now, Jim, before we begin, remind me what were the safe words again?” I smiled, this is going to be fun – I LOVE pushing muscle subs to the limit and sometimes guiding them to just beyond. And from the stable of subs I’ve collected, they love it too. “Yellow when you’re at the limit but don’t want the scene to end. Red when the lines’ been crossed and we need stop.” “Ahh yes. That’s right. I’d forgotten how dull your safety words were. With my subs, I have a different set of words. Water for when you need a break but don’t want the scene to end and rock if I’ve taken you over the limit and you need the scene to end, immediately. I guess I should tell you, Jim - in the last five years, in addition to putting on mass, I’ve been training in martial arts. I just received my brown belt in Jujitsu fastest progression ever seen at my school. I’ve been looking forward to this for the past 5 years.” “Fuck” I thought. I had been in a wrestling league for years but never had any formal training. It was all erotic fun for me. The only times that I ever lost were to someone with formal training and the most humiliating losses were handed to me by blue and purple belts in jujitsu. Now, standing in front of me was massive bodybuilder/power lifter, someone with grappling training, and someone who had just announced that he was an alpha with a stable of subs of his own. What was even more frightening in that moment was all the recollections that came flooding back to me – times when I had used my athletic prowess to dominate a young skinny sub – and push him beyond his submission point – forced him to beg me to end a scene through cries of pain. I looked at him, his massive chest rising and falling with each breath, his powerful core showcasing a set of washboard abs, his quads, arms, and neck. I could see the strength in every fiber of his body and wondered if his claim of grappling training was true. If it was, I was about to have my ass handed to me. And given that we were in the cabin furthest from the rest of camp, no one was likely to hear my screams. His mouth was partially open - a look of hunger, like a snake about to eat its prey. He slowly licked his lips. Geoffrey raised his arms in a double bicep pose. Mountains of granite on both arms. And then into a most muscular pose. His face turned from a devilish grin into an aggressive show of dominance. “Ready for some pain old man?” I took in this muscular alpha with a look of aggressive, killer lust in his eyes. I noted that his briefs had filled and it looked like his cock was hard. A wet spot was forming on the front. Geoffrey was getting turned on by his show of dominance and we had not even begun. Fuck what was about to happen to me?
  10. Guest

    Symbiotic Bonding Part 07

    Merry Fucking Christmas! Enjoy guys! Previous Parts: -Part 01 - Part 02 - Part 03 - Part 04 - Part 05 - Part 06 - Part 07 While You Were Sleeping Matt sat down on his bed, lying back and rolling onto his side so he could have a great view of Andrew from across the room as he slept. He watched Andrew’s newly-built chest rise and fall as he breathed in deeply, pulling in oxygen into his now much larger chest, before letting it all out. Matt heard Andrew muttering under his breath. Words that were hard to make out, but they began to make him quiver with desire for reasons he did not understand. He continued to watch his smaller brother slumber, Andrew’s new body partially illuminated under the dim moonlight coming in through the window. It was just enough for Matt to see the curves of his twins new muscles. Andrew murmur’s in his sleep again, having an amazing dream from what Matt was noticing as he watched a new curve being arising. The part of the sheet over Andrew’s larger dick began to rise. Matt paused, not sure what to do next, but Andrew shifts in his sleep, kicking off part of the sheet, letting his new, big phallus spring free. Matt’s throat catches as he watches its silhouette wave back and forth, several inches off of his slumbering bro. His own dick stiffening, urging him towards the swinging metronome of Andrew’s penis. Andrew’s snores were loud, and very deep. He continued to toss and turn on his bed, getting into a more comfortable position, his arm going behind his head, exposing his deep murky pit. The exposure sending a bit of odor wafting out over his area of the room as it began to get stronger the longer it was out in the fresh air, moving towards Matt’s side of the room. His other hand went down to his larger, kiwi sized balls, as be scratched and pulled at them slightly. “Wa….e….” he mumbled. ‘….nt…m…” the words were low but commanding even in his sleep daze. Each time they began to get clearer and clearer. “Want me….” Matt finally hears the two words, loud and clear. Even though it was still almost a mutter under Andrew’s breath, Matt was able to understand those two words perfectly. He pushed aside his sheets, tossing his legs over the edge, and treading the several meters to his brother’s bed. Matt looks down at Andrew, noting how the dim moonlight highlights the strong, masculine body of his growing twin. His own cock throbs, and as he watches Andrew sleep he notices his brother’s does as well. As Andrew rolls over to his side, Matt decides to join him in bed, His legs at Andrew’s head, and vice-versa as they get into a 69 position. Matt looks straight ahead towards Andrew’s cock, gently scooting towards it, eager to have it push between his lips, into his mouth, and down his throat, but he needs to make sure not to wake his twin. The words mutter again “Want Me,” much clearer now from him being this close. Matt can’t take it any longer, scooting forward quickly until he feels his smaller twins dick brush against his lips. Matt opens wide, engulfing the head, sucking it into his mouth, while his own cockhead presses against Andrew’s own, opened, sleeping lips. Pre begins to leak out from Matt’s cock onto Andrew’s lips. In Andrew’s sleep state, he licks his slightly slick lips, feeling his bro’s cock leave a good amount of pre on them. His moth opens, his tongue running along the upper part of Matt’s cock as his lips close around the head and Andrew begins to nurse on the tip like a child suckling a teat. Matt moan’s from the pleasure, scooting even closer to try and get more and more of his shaft into Andrew’s mouth, as he feels it hit the back wall, slowly forcing the head into Andrew’s throat. This causes Andrew to moan, feeling more aroused in his sleep state, his hand going toward the back of his brother’s head, rubbing his hair as he begins to stir a bit. Matt purr’s with joy as he is getting attention from his Twin. He doesn’t care if he’s asleep. He know’s Andrew does not want this to continue to happen, but this reassurance is all Matt needs to keep going. He relaxes his throat, opening it up more so he can swallow more of Andrew’s cock, pushing his lips further down the shaft. He wants his bro’s precious seed, so he makes his tongue dance against the underside of Andrew’s tool, feeling the bumps and ridges of the veins, teasing it as best as he can. Andrew’s throat muscles continue to open and close over the head of Matt’s cock. Matt begins to let out soft, muffled moans of pleasure as his balls start to ache, eager to unleash a bountiful seed. But the thing inside of Matt, the living Symbiote, won’t allow it yet. It prevents him from release, and starts to produce more and more cum, making Matt’s balls begin to fill with more and more cream. Matt is hopeless, able only to do his best to work over Andrew’s cock while Andrew’s sleeping daze returns the favor. Andrew’s sleepiness begins to wear off as his eyes begin to slowly open, his brain waking up. The first thing he sees are two large, swelling testicles pressed against his face, before he notices the cock lodged down his throat… “Mmmmmm mmmmmm” Andrew tries to protest, knowing this is going to not go so well for Matt as his own cock was buried deep into his brother’s throat as well. His cock was uncontrollably hard, there was no way he was going to escape this. Andrew tris pulling away, but Matt’s hands grab onto his thighs and hold him in place, as Matt flips Andrew onto his back. Matt’s still larger then him and has plenty of skills from all the sports he played through the years that Andrew never did. “Mmmmmm….” Andrew protests again, but Matt just doubles his efforts, sucking even harder and faster. Matt was desperate for his brother’s cum, wanting so very much to please Andrew. Wanting just as much to make his twin bigger, stronger, sexier. As Andrew struggled beneath him, Matt drives his dick deep into Andrew’s mouth, until his balls are resting against Andrew’s nose; his wispy pubes tickling Andrew’s chin. Matt let’s out a soft grunt as his cock explodes, sending a large load of cum rocketing down Andrew’s throat. As it hits, Andrew kicks, his body spasming as another inch is added to his height, bringing him to six feet tall, just like Matt. His body swells, more and more muscle added to his frame as he reaches a whopping 215lbs, just five pounds shy of Matt’s own still impressive 220lbs. And his cock, lurching forward in Matt’s mouth as it gains another ½ inch, reaching finally a solid 8, thickening slightly in his mouth, pushing further down his throat. Matt lets out a low moan as he continues so suck, turned on incredibly by this new growth spurt. Andrew gets even hornier with this new flood of testosterone going through his body, causing his own cock to grow even harder. As Matt began to lift himself away after he did what he felt needed to be done, to grow Andrew to Twin like proportions, Andrew’s hands latch onto Matt’s head and thrusts his cock upward to sink his cock all the way up into Matt’s throat. Matt’s cock no longer in Andrew’s mouth. “This is what you wanted?” Matt tries to push Andrew’s body back onto the bed. “I’m sorry bro… Mph… but it’s… my turn…” He thrusts his cock all the way up and Matt continues to struggle. “My turn… to… Uhnn…” His eyes closing as a mighty blast of hot seed fires out from Andrew’s cock and forces its way into Matt’s stomach. “to… protect you.” All Matt can do is swallow or he would probably drown from how much cum was erupting out of his twin’s cock. He begins to feel like he’s weakening, getting smaller, but even though these physical attributes are changing he can only think of how much he truly needs to be wanted now by Andrew. Matt grips onto Andrew’s muscular thighs, feeling them tense up under him as he continues to shoot. All Matt does is welcome every last drop. Andrew also feel’s his brother getting smaller around him, as he drops to 5’11”. Matt’s cock reeling back into his body as it sucks into a slightly above average 7 inches, nowhere close to his whopping original 10. His weight reaching 205lbs. Andrew finally rolls Matt’s body off of him and onto the bed. Panting, his body covering with as much sweat, even covered with fur, his body looked like an oiled up bodybuilder. “What did you do?” “You wanted me to want you. And I did. I wanted you. I still do. I want you so bad, Andrew!” Matt reaches up, his fingers gently brushing against one of Andrew’s furry pecs, feeling how it’s slightly larger than before, slightly thicker. “And I love what my cum does to you. How it makes you bigger. Stronger. Fuck, you’re HOT, Andrew. You know that, right?” Matt moves his thumb and index finger to the nipple on the pec he was rubbing and begins to roll it between his fingers. Is it any surprise that I want you?” Andrew moans in pleasure from Matt’s touch. He pulls his twin closer towards him, lifting him up in his arms, as he stands up and walks towards the full length mirror, Matt’s posing mirror, the one that he would always admire himself in. Andrew places him down, right in front of him. Matt having to look slightly up now, but not by much, as Andrew turns him towards his reflection. Matt can now see who is clearly the larger one in absolutely every aspect now. “Do you see this Matthew?” Matt hated that name. He hasn’t been called that since he was 12. It was the name his parent’s would also use to scold him as a child. “Look what you’ve done. I told you to stop… There is no going back from now on…” Matt looks down at his feet for a moment, then back up at Andrew. He blushes, seeming a bit shy. Certainly not like the confident jock who used to strut around campus like he owned it. “Are you really mad at me, Andrew? I – I thought you wanted this. You can’t be feeling bad, can you?” Matt reaches over and traces his fingers along his brother’s abs, tracing each separation between each block of muscle. “Don’t you feel bigger, stronger, more capable? Ready to take on the world?” Matt moved around Andrew’s larger frame, behind his bro. His smaller body now completely hidden behind Andrew’s reflected image in the mirror. “Don’t you want to be as much of a man as you can be?” Matt asked, his voice distant, as he leaned against Andrew’s strong, broad, muscular back. Andrew feels Matt’s arms wrap around his waist from behind as he relaxes a bit. “I think I’m gonna need a shower. I can’t sleep now…” Andrew turns around to face Matt, placing a hand gently on his brother’s chin. “Everything will be ok, I guess,” He smiles into his eyes. “Just gonna be some adjustments were gonna need to get used to.” Andrew bends down, bringing his lips to Matt’s, kissing him, before heading off to the shower, leaving them both to contemplate. Matt watches Andrew’s strong glutes rising and falling with each step as he leaves the room. His lats curving to meet his beefy shoulders, traps trying to reach up and swallow his neck. He flopped back onto his bed, a huge grin on his face. You’re big now, and hot. But you could be so much more… To Be Continued… Coming Soon Part 08: Make A Man Out of You
  11. I want to thank muscledrain, who suggested the theme and general outline of this story, and Gunshotuk, who friendly assisted with proofreading. I added these links, by editing my original post. Chapter one is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7118-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-one/ Chapter two is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7140-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-two/?hl=magic With a little help from magic Chapter Three A few weeks earlier, it had been completely dark at the hour when the students arrived for the first lesson, but now rose-tinted clouds and an icy blue sky sleepily floated over the brick building, although the sun itself hadn’t reached above the roofs of the neighbouring buildings. The snow-ploughs had left high snow-drifts against the surrounding walls. The outdoors temperature had dropped to minus twenty Centigrades, and the breath of the students formed clouds of visible vapour in the air. One of the bus lines was at a standstill, due to the icy cover on one of the steepest roads in the city, and this had caused a late arrival of some students. Aram was irritated. With no bus, he had been late, and got on a later tram departure than usual. The situation had affected many students from the same parts of the city, and he wasn’t entirely alone in the corridors, although most of the students already sat in their lecture rooms. He put his jacket and his training bag in his locker, and grabbed his biology book. ’Oi Swotter!’, shouted the too familiar voice of Anderson. Aram sighed. Here we go again. The angry faces were there as usual, shouting things as usual, with one minor divergence: Peter wasn’t there. Slowly, a hunch began to emerge, but Aram wasn’t given the time to finish his thought. Anderson was there, wrestled Aram quickly, until he lay on the floor, getting salt stains on his clothes. Anderson shouting things about going back to his own country. ’You know that I was born here, don’t you?’, Aram asked. The scent of Anderson’s leather jacket. The scent of a cheap cologne and adolescent sweat. The scent of Anderson’s bad breath: Probably a yoghurt breakfast. The scents which could have been perfectly neutral, or even the scents of a friend, but now, since several years, the scents of humiliation. Anderson’s football scarf dangling in Aram’s face. Shouting. Spittle. Something about Arabs. ’And no. I’m not Arab either. My ancestors lived in Syria, Turkey and Iraq long before the Arabs.’ Anderson’s hand around Aram’s Adam’s apple. It was useless to resist: The footballer who dabbled at the gym was significantly stronger and heavier than Aram. Anderson’s bodyweight disappeared. At first, Aram was too dizzy to register what had happened, but, when he composed himself, he could watch Anderson in a knuckle fight with Peter. The other members of Anderson’s little crew standing passively, not knowing what to do. Aram adjusted his eyeglasses and his tie, quickly remembering how he had suffered from myopia since primary school, and how John had not. ’What are you doing, fatso? We are mates, aren’t we?’, Anderson tried to convince Peter. ’I’m tired of you Anderson. I’m tired of being the fatso. I’m tired of being your excuse for this. I thought that I was the leader of our gang, and then I realized, that I have been your puppet all the time. Always blame the fatso. Always nagging about how I was dismissed from the hockey team!’ ’But you were dismissed from the hockey team, fatso. You didn’t have what it takes. You realize that, huh? I remained in the football team because Coach saw my qualities. But why do you defend the little Prof? Have you become an Arab lover all of a sudden?’ Peter was over Anderson in a second. He must have left all self-control, and punched on the leaner rocker uncontrollably, using his weight to his advantage. But Anderson was faster, and used that to snake himself out of Peter’s grip and range. The three other rockers froze from their disbelief and hesitation, and surrounded Peter. ’Fatso! Fatso! Fatso!’ ’Frigging bloody wanker. Now I have a blood stain on my new plaid shirt. You will pay for this! What is it? Don’t want to be reminded of what a bad hockey player you are? A failure! A loser! And you were never a real rocker either! Couldn't afford a real jacket? Couldn’t afford a second hand car? Letting others pay for your beer and hot dogs on the motor festivals? Do you think I’m scared of you?’ The last sentence wasn’t delivered convincingly. Peter stared Anderson in his eyes. The small hesitation was all Peter needed. He pulled himself free. Neither Anderson, nor Peter, saw what happened next, but Aram saw it. John and Carl arrived. Both were of course taller than any of the young men, but Carl probably wasn’t in much better shape than Anderson, and considerably more light-weight than Peter. John, on the other side, towered over the group, his escalating results on the gym progressing almost visibly each day. It was probably the bad weather that had caused Carl to wear army cargotrousers instead of his favourite bleacherjeans, but, unlike John’s city camo, Carls trousers followed the greenish colour scheme for forests. The bulky and glossy bomber jackets enhanced their size, one black and one metallic blue. The military origin of two of their garments, was contrasted by the stylish details of others: Carl’s favourite maroon polo, his blue braces and blue shoe laces. John had shaved his braided ’Vikings’ hairdo off, and Aram noticed a black and yellow-striped polo shirt and thin, black braces, that John hadn’t worn before. Had he joined the SHARPs? Yes he had: Aram could see a new embrodiered patch on John’s jacket. Anderson’s followers looked at the two skinheads for a second, and left the place. Anderson became aware of Carl and John, and lit up. ’Oi fellas! He is all yours. Now he even attacks friends, not to mention poor Prof over there.’ It was Carl who answered. ’Don’t try to fast talk out of this. We heard before we saw. Get out of my way if you don’t want any more thrashing.’ Anderson was silent when he left the lockers. * * * Grumblingly, Carl had accepted that Peter followed them to the gym. ’What I can't understand, is that you have the patience to have him around you. If I had been you, I had wanted to punch his face in.’ Aram didn't know exactly what to say. Nor did John. Remembering two versions of reality gave you perspectives on things that could have been, but Carl wouldn’t believe them if they tried to tell him, and it was probably best a guarded secret. Carl wiped his boots with a wet tissue, in order to remove salt stains. ’You ought to wipe your boots too, John. Salt damages the leather terribly.’ Peter arrived into the locker room, and they changed the subject. * * * John and Carl were on their way home from a concert in another city. They had gone with two of Carl’s old friends, one of whom owned a car. The concert had been fantastic: Some of the song texts about injustice in society, some song texts about football or loyalty to your neighbourhood. Stirring refrains. Many in the audience sang along in the the refrains. John surrounded by friends, with Carl at his side. Sturdy Carl. Good Carl. John had never seen so many skins at the same place at the same time: Short, tall, some in their 60’s, some in the same age as John, and every age between. Some, going for a more old-fashioned take on the style, wore lambskin jackets of a sort that had been popular among skins in the early 1970’s, and not a few, coming from the southern parts, wore crombie coats (although they had bitterly found out that, up here, crombies better had to wait until spring arrived). Bearing in mind the outdoors temperature, it wasn’t strange that most of them wore bomber jackets: black, blue, green or burgundy. In the middle of the concert, John had a short vision of individuality blurring, and his consciousness floating in an atmosphere of affinity, belonging, and joy. John and Carl now shared the back seat of the car, while their friend in the front seat tried to keep the driver awake by talking to him. Loud music played in the car, something by Rancid, John thought. The wintery landscape passed by in the night, swiftly illuminated by the headlights, and then, as swiftly, left behind in the winter night’s darkness. Snow on spruces. Snow on firs. Snow. A road sign, warning for elks. Snow. A small village with a petrol station, street lamps illuminating the back seat for a few seconds, and then winter forest again. Darkness. Snow. He removed the hockey scarf from his neck. It was hot enough inside the car. Carl fell asleep shortly after they left the concert, resting his head against John’s shoulder. While awake, Carl was always so assertive, so confident. When he was asleep, his face looked different: Relaxed, innocent. During the journey he had slid, and his head now rested against John’s side. John had protectively laid his arm around Carl’s shoulders, feeling the silky but synthetic surface of Carl’s jacket. Suddenly, John became aware of, that Carl’s hand, which had rested against John’s trousers, had moved to touch John’s crotch through the fabric of the camo trousers. John hadn’t thought about it, but his tool was hard by being so close to his best friend, if that word was enough to describe his feelings. In his sleep, Carl began to clench John’s dick through the fabric. Clenched. And relaxed. Clenched. And relaxed. John tried to wake Carl up. Carl would be terrified if he had known what he did. John didn’t want to catch the attention from the guys in the front seat: They would tease Carl for weeks, if they knew. Clenched. And relaxed. ’Carl, wake up. Wake up.’, John whispered, and shook him carefully. ’Wake…’ The clenching felt good. Carl had cupped his hand over John’s dickhead. Carl didn’t awake, in spite of Johns silent attempts to wake him. Clenched. And relaxed. They passed by another village. Street lamps revealed a smile on Carl’s face, the blond stubble on his hair glistening like gold in the electric light. And then the car rushed into the night again. A pleasant darkness. Clenched. And relaxed. John’s bloodstream was filled with warm honey, running slowly and exquisitely through his system. Clenched. And relaxed. His dick felt like steel now. Clenched. The warm presence of Carl so close to him. Silky but synthetic. And camo. And relaxed. Reliable. Tough. Kind. Clenched. Loyal and masculine. And relaxed. His invincible friend. Doing this. Clenched. And relaxed. A mist of dark red pleasure floated inside his eyes. Floated. Slowly and exquisitely. Mist. Of a thundercloud. Rushing. Through him. Through his muscles. Feeling big. Hard. Best friend. Thunderbolt. Mist. Rushing. Through him. Smile. Stubble. Close. Thunderbolt mist. Rushing. Now – pure pleasure. It wasn’t aware of it’s existence now. It was. Only. The. Pleasure. Only. The. Pleasure. Only. The. Only. Only. Only. Onl… Clenched. * * * Carl and John had had their ’little chat’ with Peter a few days before, Carl hesitatingly, and John well aware of what Aram and himself had agreed upon. If reality could change, persons could too. Carl had probably been a little bit too harsh, but John had focussed on reason: A few years after arrival, refugees pays tax. Financial argument against refugee policy are therefore without foundation. Freedom of religion is something good: Would you like to be forced to practice something against your will, yourself? No? Then don’t do it to anyone else. Food? Is it really a good idea to decide what anyone else would eat? Do you really like fermented herring yourself? No? You hate the stench? So do I. Why would you then like to dictate that anyone else’s dinner tables should be stuck in the 1890’s or 1920’s? Only upper class eating sushi? I wouldn’t call my cousin upper class: She assists elderly people in their homes. Do you eat pizza? Yes? You know that pizza isn’t indigenous food in Northern Europe, eh? Want to retain a good system of social security? But why then argue for a right wing party? You know that they side with the big companies against workers’ rights, don’t you? Not a commie bastard? If you don’t like the bunch of people Carl hang around with, it’s fine, though they are not exactly commies either. Make up your own mind. There are more answers to these things than two. There are a lot of political parties in the centre, if you prefer that. Most of them are in favour of a well-functioning social security. Your grandfather vote Labour? Then I suggest that you have a chat with your grandfather about this. Wouldn’t that be a good idea? Thought so. Peter looked tired after the conversation. Carl and John had seen smugness or angry sullenness before, but the present sad expression on Peter’s face had none of them seen, and there was something puppy-like about his eyes. Carl handed him a low-carb soda. Peter and his mother lived in a flat consisting of three rooms, all of them considerably smaller than what Carl and John were used to in the younger and recently renovated part of the area. Old-fashioned containers for salt, sugar, meal and oats hung under the dressers, and John noticed to his surprise that the flat lacked a dishwasher. Although cigarette-smoking was falling out of fashion, it was obvious that Peter’s absent Mum was a smoker, which was a pity, since the living room with the old TV could have been quite nice otherwise, with an old fashioned parquet floor and shelves with framed photographs of relatives. Unlike Carl, Peter didn’t have a TV in his bedroom. It didn’t take too long to convince Peter that some of his former views were wrong, although some of the changes probably didn’t go more than skin deep, initially. He had proved that he was able to take sides with Aram, and he was childishly enthusiastic about being instructed by John at the gym. Carl had sadistically ripped away the Confederate flag from Peter’s denim jacket, and the rectangular spot didn’t look impressive, but the weather forced Peter to wear a warmer (rather humdrum) jacket anyhow. The temperature outdoors was burning cold, and it hurt in their cheeks when they returned indoors. * * * Aram arrived late to the gym. ’Sorry. I had to spend some time with Emelie. She was upset. Did you see Emma’s bruise earlier today? No? Anderson had beat her yesterday, and Emelie tried to persuade Emma to leave him, but Emma is stubborn. What a nasty piece of work Anderson is: Disagreeable and nefarious!’ Peter looked on the floor, already dressed for workout, but in cheaper equipment than John and Carl. ’You are much better than me with words’, John said, froze, and stared at Aram silently. Aram stared back. ’Than I am’, Aram answered with some hesitation. ’What is it?’, asked Carl, but John and Aram changed subject. Fifteen minutes later, they stood at the cable stand. ’You have probably seen people train their pecs with cable handles up here, but if you lower these, your chest will actually have to work much harder to press the handles together, especially if you don’t bend your arms.’ ’Yes… Uh. Nrrrgh. Definitely much more resistance…’, Aram noticed, red in his face. ’Seven. Eight. Nine. Uh.’ ’But it doesn't feel like usual. I miss something.’, Carl remarked a minute later. ’The idea is’, John explained, ’to let this part work harder.’ John pressed his fingers on the insides of Carls now very hardworking pecs. He then put his fingers in Carl’s armpits, and nodded in the direction of the dumbbell press. ’These parts of the muscles will get their share of the workout in the next exercise over there.’ Carl shouted, and dropped the cable handles with a noise. ’I am ticklish. Never do that again’, Carl said, and disappeared towards the locker room. * * * The winter night shrouded the slopes and the flats in darkness, but the crusty snow on the lawns reflected the light from the street lamps and the moon. The caretakers had obviously spread another amount of salt during the preceding day, since the ice had melted on the pathway, and the moist asphalt surface peeked out from the surrounding snow, like a snake with black scales. Peter had left them in the older corner of the area as usual, and the other two had left Aram by the stairs to his family’s flat. Aram watched the white clouds of his own breath, watched the sky, noticed the upcoming conjunction between two planets he had read about in a scientific magazine, and went indoors, the bag on his shoulder. His mother was not at home: Probably giving an introductory language course to newly arrived Syrian refugees. His sister probably visited friends. He warmed some chicken in the oven and some lentils in the microwave oven, and ate absentmindedly in the kitchen, before returning to his room. He had just opened the computer file of a composition about mithocondriae, when something strange struck him. He felt dizzy and exhilarated. It felt like reality circled around him for a second, he felt a rush of information streaming inside his head, and he found himself in a state of analytical clarity beyond what he had longed for. He was sure he hadn’t understood all these mathematical proofs just a minute ago, but he could also remember how he gradually had achieved this insight for several years. He looked at the candle from Madame Cremorna’s. Burnt out and empty of wax since several weeks. He sat silent for a long time, trying to regain composure, went out to the kitchen for some tea. Holding the warm jug of tea between his hands, he took an educated guess about what probably had happened. It was probably a good idea to wait a few minutes before calling John on the phone. * * * ’Carl. There is something I want to talk to you about, but we haven’t had a good chance until now.’ They sat in John’s room. John sat on his adjustable chair. Carl sat on John’s bed. It was the sort of week when John’s mother worked night at the home for the aged, and John’s father was away playing floorball with workmates after work. ’Sure. Something political? Something about music?’ ’No. No, nothing like that. Eh. Uhm. Something strange happened when we were on our way home from that concert.’ ’Nothing I noticed. I slept all the way home. Didn’t wake up until the car stopped in the parking lot.’ ’You didn’t dream something strange?’ ’Can’t say that I did. Not something I remember anyway.’ John fell silent. Then he took the matchbox, and lit the novena candle in the window. It was Tuesday, after all. Within a minute the scent from the oil mixed with the candlewax was noticeable in the room. ’I want to tell you a secret. Aram bought that candle to me last autumn. You know: The church his family belongs to is into saints and things. The idea is that it will bring… Bring good luck, in a way.’ ’You know that I am as agnostic as you are. There is no way to prove the supernatural, neither a way to disprove it. It’s just meaningless. I’m not like the hardcore Atheists, ranting about sky fairies and spaghetti monsters, but whatever may or may not exist – if something supernatural exist, it will be so complicated that no human book would be able to describe that something, so I prefer to relax and not spend time on the subject. There’s a world out there to make better. I'm not a bloody hippie.’ John picked a book from his thinly populated bookshelf. He waved with it before Carl: Bodybuilding: A Handbook. ’May I discuss some of today’s exercises?’ ’Sure. Why not?’ John sat down beside Carl at the bed, and began to explain. He was probably ten minutes into the discussion, when he felt a strange heat inside. He rose and opened the window. ’What are you doing? It’s bloody cold outside. Don’t let that cold air inside.’ John closed the window again. The flame of the candle flickered. John could see that there wasn’t much candlewax left. He returned to the bed. ’I feel funny. Don’t you feel the heat?’ ’Heat? The windows’ got good insulation, and the radiators are working, but you can’t call this heat. What’s the matter? Do you feel ill?’ A worried expression John hadn’t seen before spread over Carl’s face. John reclined on the bed, with Carl sitting close to his knees. ’It feels better now. But it still feels funny. In a good way.’ A pleasant feeling filled his back, and continued to spread. ’Mmm. In a really good way.’ The feeling filled his traps, and continued to his pecs. ’Are you okey?’ ’Mmm. Oh. Umm. Yes, I’m okey. It…’ The feeling changed into a burning feeling in his abs, and he felt how a strange but pleasant feeling of hardness filled his shoulders and his quads. ’Oh. Carl. Do you see it, or is it just my imagination?’ ’See what?’ It now filled him entirely, from the stubble on his head to his fingers and toes. It was different from the subtle changes at the other times, it was… ’John. I can’t believe this. It looks like you are growing.’ John moaned, and then arched with a short scream. He tensed his biceps, and felt how he tensed his pecs. The fabric of his t-shirt couldn’t take the strain anymore. With a ripping sound, Johns growing biceps split the short sleeves of the shirt apart, while his growing shoulders and neck tore asunder the rest of the shirt. ’It’s bloody unbelievable, John. It’s like a frigging dream. Do you feel alright?’ ’So good… So good… Yes. Yes. It’s happening.’ The flame of the candle flickered, consumed the last remains of the oily wax, and went out with a silent puff. ’IT’S HAPPENING!!!’ John felt how his body convulsed in a pleasant way. ’Uhnnn. Uhnnn. Oh yes… Uhnnn. More!’ Carl was rigid with fear. And something else. Then, he reached out his hand towards John’s chest, and touched John’s growing left pec. With a sigh and a smile, John’s growing right arm grabbed Carl around his waist, and let Carl fall with his face on John’s pecs. A few seconds he struggled, and then relaxed. John could feel a kiss on his left pec. John let his left hand caress the stubble on the backside of Carl’s head. John could hear Carl mumble: ’I’m fucking dreaming. This is unreal.’ ’If it is a dream, you are free to do whatever you would like to do in a dream’, John answered, but whatever he had tried to say was abruptly cut off by another wave of growth. He moaned and groaned of pleasure. ’Oh, yeah. Grow for me mate. My best friend becoming a bruiser… Oh. This is so good. These mountains of power…’ Carl sat on John’s groin, touching John’s biceps with his hands. ’Oooh.’ Carl leaned forward and kissed John’s right bicep, and then licked it. ’Oooh. It’s still growing. You are still… Oh. This is so good.’ John felt how he became hard down there too. Carl must have noticed. He slide from the bed, removed his shirt and trousers, and then began to remove John’s trousers, but they were stuck on John’s large and still growing calves. ’Oooh. Uhn. Mmmm. Yes.’, John deliriously exclaimed. Carl gave up his attempt to remove John’s trousers, and directed his concentration on John’s shoulders, grabbing one with each hand, whimpering lustfully at the touch. ’Oh. My buddy, the warrior. My mate, the hero. My friend, the… the war god. This is so bloody good. So fucking unreal. So, ummm.’ John’s mobile phone rang, but they were both too excited to notice. Carl’s steel hard rod, although still decked by pants, had touched John’s bulging and steel hard abs, and he shivered at the sensation. Another lustful whimpering escaped his mouth. John could feel Carl rubbing his groin against John’s abs, and it felt good. He was able to drive his friend crazy of admiration. Another wave filled him. He bellowed, and distantly felt how his calves split the seams of his trousers, releasing him from any restraining clothes. His dick found its way between Carl’s thighs. Carl moaned. John looked up on Carl, smiled and tensed both his biceps. Carl held his breath, and something began to pulsate wildly inside Carl’s pants. Again. And again. And again. The last stages of John’s transformation were still going on, when Carl regained the similitude of awareness of his surroundings. Veins began to cover John’s chest, legs and biceps, and all muscles protruded well-defined in a manner suitable for the best junior bodybuilders. A blissful smile was upon John’s face, his eyes closed. He breathed quickly. Carl readjusted his position, and sat between John’s knees, grabbed John’s rod with his right hand, and pulled it a few times. It didn’t need much encouragement, until it ecstatically exploded in his grip, and pulsated in a powerful ultra-masculine way between his fingers and his palm. In a voice, deeper than before, John asked Carl: ’Why didn’t you tell me before?’ * * * Chapter Four is here, but doesn't contain any growth: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13032-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-four/
  12. Chapter one is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7118-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-one/ With a little help from magic Chapter Two Twelfth Night came and went. Spring semester began. Aram hadn’t seen John for a couple of weeks. During Christmas Break, Aram’s family had went to another city, to spend Christmas with relatives. In order to use the holidays for something useful, Aram had brought books from the public library with him, and he had spent Christmas reading a voluminous handbook on anatomy and a monograph on constitutional matters. The books went far beyond what he was expected to read, from his teachers point of view, but Aram wanted to quench his insatiable thirst for more knowledge, and it wouldn’t hurt his grades for sure. It had been a fascinating experience to follow John’s development during autumn and beginning of winter. It was rather common that beginners at the gym got initial results pretty quick, when their bodies adjusted to something entirely new and unfamiliar, but John’s results went far beyond what could be expected of that usual effect. At the Halloween party he had been lean and defined, but during November and December he had began to fill out and approaching a heavier build. One of the trainers had demanded John to hand in a urine sample, since the gym didn’t tolerate steroid abuse among its members, but it came back negative. Concerning exercise, Aram was slightly disappointed with himself. He hadn’t improved his results at all in October and November. In December he couldn’t any longer lift the weights he was used to. He had got a bad cold then, and guessed that it could have something to do with it, but there was also a nagging suspicion back in his head, that his decreased ability could have something to do with Madame Cremorna – that is, if what she did really worked. His scientifically-inclined mind was of two thoughts when it came to the highly eccentric lady in the shop. He missed Emma. They had been an item for years, and life was suddenly missing someone he had begun to take for granted. He missed her warm presence, the scent of her hair and the funny way she giggled. Just as he thought about her, she happened to coincidentally pass by, on the way to her locker. ’Hey, Emma! How was Christmas?’ She looked surprised. Unusually surprised. ’Aram? Nice of you to ask. It was good, but nothing special. And you?’ She looked at him differently than he was used to. The situation felt odd. ’The thing we talked about in the end of the semester. There is no way for you to reconsider?’ ’Talked about? Reconsider? I am not sure that I understand exactly what you are talking about?’ ’About…’ Then it struck him, that he could remember two different strings of events – two different pasts existing simultaneously, side by side. In one of the pasts he and Emma had never been a couple. He felt strange. ’Do you feel okey?’ ’Yes, just a little bit dizzy. Thank you. See you at math class.’ ’Don’t exercise too much. I think it is so sweet of John to teach you how to exercise at the gym, but you have to take it easy in the beginning.’ * * * John had been able to indulge in two workouts a day during Christmas holidays, and the gym had been unusually sparsely visited during these weeks. He had eaten traditional Christmas dishes for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but then returned to his highly well-planned eating plan. He had risen early the first day of the spring semester, and executed a cardio workout at the gym before school day. When he arrived to his locker he heard Peter’s voice on the other side the row of lockers: ’Oi! Swotter! I’m talking to you!’ ’Right. Now his gaze is penetrating lockers as well.’, John thought for himself, and braced himself for the upcoming troubles, but Peter went on, talking on the other side the row. What was going on? John followed the row, and peeked around the corner. Peter, Anderson and two of their friends stood in a semi-circle around Aram, tugging his laptop. ’What the hell are you doing?’, John shouted. Peter and his friends turned around. ’Oh, hello John. Don’t worry. We are just having some fun with Swotter here. Not your business.’ A feeling of unreality lowered itself over the scene. ’Not my business? After all the hell you have given me?’ ’What are you talking about? Only a fool would mess with you, meathead.’ ’Uh. That may be right, but it doesn’t change what you did just a few months ago, does it?’ ’What the hell are you talking about? We were friends in the hockey team once, if you don’t remember? Why would I roughhouse you?’ The feeling of unreality became more intense. John’s facial expression must have been weird, since Peter loosened his grip around Aram’s jacket, and nodded to his friends to leave, quickly following them. As they left the place, John could hear Anderson say: ’Did you see his face? I don’t know what he is on, but I hadn’t dared to stay in the case he got into roid rage, would you?’ * * * When John bought his winter jacket last winter, it had been considerably too large, but since he was still growing, he had expected it to fit better this winter, and anyhow it was useful to wear a jacket that would permit him to wear a warm jersey. December had been rather mild, and the snow that fell several times had melted away. After Twelfth night the weather had changed, a lot of snow had fallen, and it was now minus ten Centigrades. When he was on his way to the gym this morning, he had found that his jacket was too small, despite it had fit perfectly days before, and his jeans were too short. A lot of weird stuff was going on. His unkept hair had changed into a style with shaved sides and the remaining hair kept in thin braids covering the top of the head. Aram hadn’t believed his eyes when he saw John earlier in the day. It was the first time in his life – as he remembered the past – someone had tried to bully him, and he appreciated John’s help. John’s growth during autumn had been fast, but still within the limits of his physical constitution. It was different now. During the holidays John had grown at least a decimetre in height, and his bones must have restructured themselves. His chest and his shoulders were broader, and his hips and waist were narrower. Although Carl didn’t workout together with John and Aram every time, he had promised to accompany them at the gym today. Carl arrived with melting snow flakes on his black bomber jacket, and it took him some time to untie the shoestrings of his shiny black boots. He began to change into sportswear. John looked good in sportswear. The T-shirt was snug, but the drawstring cotton trousers were baggy enough to hide his obviously big legs somewhat. They all trained legs today, ending the workout with heavy weights in the calf rise machine. ’I feel a little bit strange, today.’, said Aram when they had returned to the locker room. ’Uhuh.’, answered John. ’I have felt strange, too.’, and tried to relieve himself from the sweatdrenched T-shirt. With a ripping sound he involuntarily happened to tear it into pieces instead. ’O shit!’, John exclaimed, distracted from the thought of any strangeness. ’It was the second time this week. I must buy larger training clothes.’ Aram stared at John. It was no surprise that John was muscular now, but the shape of John’s naked torso went far beyond what Aram had expected. Carl stared as well on the perfect traps and shoulders of John. On the perfect roundness of John’s pecs. On the valley between the pecs, continuing in a valley between his abs. Although Aram was the only one of them who knew the words for obliques, iliac furrow and serratus, Carl stared on them just as much as Aram, if not more. Carl sat down on a bench, but immediately changed his mind and left for the loo. When they were alone, Aram could manage to have a word with John. ’It must sound crazy, but it feels like reality is changing.’, said Aram. ’That’s exactly how I feel it. So it’s not only me?’, answered John. In low voices, so that Carl wouldn’t hear their discussion from the bathroom, they discussed their experiences. It turned out that they both remembered last semester – and actually their entire lives before that – in the same way: John had been short, shy, scrawny and interested in wildlife. Aram had been extremely fit, confident and brawny. John had been teaching Aram most of their schoolwork subjects during autumn. But both of them could also remember another, more dimly and vaguely recollected, past, in which John had always been built and interested in sports, Aram always had been thin and achieving good grades, and John had began to teach Aram about exercise. It seemed like the rest of the school only remembered the reality the two of them regarded as less real. They didn’t manage to continue this trail of thoughts. Carl returned from the loo, and interrupted. ’My jacket is suddenly too small. I have to buy a new one in a size that allows me to grow.’, John told them. ’Then I know the perfect store for you.’, answered Carl, and looked at his watch. ’If we hurry, we will get there in time before it close.’ They got on the tram. It was full of people on their way home from work, and the floor was wet of melting snow. John was freezing, since his jacket was too small, and he was only wearing a tight t-shirt, which felt too snug. Some people couldn’t avoid staring. John felt of two minds about this. It was a new experience. They left the tram. ’Is it far from here? I’m freezing.’ ’Who wouldn’t freeze in this weather? Although you have the look of a hard fucker who could endure anything. You know that?’ John felt flattered and embarrassed, but it didn’t change the outdoors temperature. They took left into a cobblestone-paved alley, and soon found the shop John had mentioned. It was still open. Posters for bands, mainly punk rock bands, covered the black painted walls. A clock on the wall looked like the symbol for the British Royal Air Force. From the ceiling hung the symbol of London Underground. When John viewed the room, several styles of clothes hung from rackets or were displayed on shelves, ranging from stylish overcoats and expensive lamb’s wool jerseys to the sort of provocative clothes Emelie used to wear. ’Just tell me if you need any help’, said the shop owner, who sat behind the counter with earphones plugged into his ears. ’It’s fine. I know where to look.’, answered Carl. And so he did. ’You said you need something wide, with room to let you grow. Why haven’t you considered an Alpha bomber jacket like mine?’ ’Oh. Eh. I don’t listen to your music.’ ’Lots of people use bombers nowadays, even the bloody hipsters. You have always dressed like you are shy of yourself, and I haven’t understood why. Which colour do you like?’ ’Uh. Blue.’ Carl handed him a bomber jacket in a metallic blue colour. John tried it on. It felt comfortable, and although it had lot of room for results from the gym, it didn’t look too large. John watched his own reflection in the mirror. The jacket suited him. ’It was perhaps not a bad idea after all. Do they have wide trousers as well?’ ’Most jeans are too skinny for your legs. I would suggest army style cargo trousers.’ ’Don’t you think that would look silly? Or angry? Or nazi?’ ’Last time I checked, a lot of my anti-racist friends wore cargo trousers. It’s not like the 90’s any more. Here, try this pair with city camo. But, of course, you need a pair of boots to match.’ Carl began to evaluate the shelves with boots. John found a pair of boots he liked. He observed himself in the mirror. Although covering his body, his new style accentuated his new physique, and he looked intimidating, in a way he never had before. It felt unreal and like he was doing something forbidden, but it also felt good. John payed for his new winter clothes, and they left the shop. It had began to snow again. His new jacket kept him warm. * * * Emelie sat in the school cafeteria steaming of anger. Her glass of water lay before her, its content running over the table. She tried to stop it with napkins. ’Emelie? What’s happening?’ It was Aram. Absentmindedly he used his two used napkins to stop the water from staining Emelies dress or the floor. ’Oh, sorry for the mess. I just talked to Emma.’ ’Emma? What has happened to her. She’s nice.’ Aram uncomfortably remembered Emma from another reality. Her scent. Her laugh. Sex with her. Her sense of humour. ’Emma has got a new boyfriend, and we quarrelled.’ Aram felt a short sting of jealousy, and quickly realised that he had no reason to – in this reality. ’A new boyfriend? Who?’ Emelie had the expression of an elderly aunt in an acerbic mood when she answered: ’Anderson.’ * * * It was his eating day, he tried to convince himself, when he was on his way home from an evening out with Carl and his friends. It had become a lot of comparatively cheap and unhealthy pub food and several pints of beer. The SHARPS were a friendly bunch, but had tested him initially with a rude sense of humour. John soon fell into the jargon. It was very unpretentious. The winter night was cold. Snow covered the grassy slopes, and frost glimmered from the stairs of stone up to the council-flat neighbourhood. ’It was good, Carl. I want to do it again.’ ’Workouts are good, and I admire your discipline with food – I could never manage to follow rules like that – but you got to have fun now and then, aren’t you?’ John followed Carl home. Carl’s parents had went to bed. Trying to be silent, but laughing loudly, the lads their boots and jackets in the passage, and then went to Carl’s room. ’And as I said before, there’s no hurry to become a skinhead even if you were interested. I hate poseurs just as much as the other lads.’ ’Poseurs?’ ’Yes. Idiots full of themselves, who one day decides to come in from nowhere and adopt the skinhead surface with no content. They usually care nothing about the music, and a few months later they go after another fad. They come in several flavours: There’s the racist idiots, who know nothing about skins before ’82 or about SHARP, and there’s the hipsters, and there’s the gays.’ ’The gays?’ John blushed somewhat, and tried to not blush. ’Believe it or not. Some gays think that we are hot, so they try to look like us.’ John expressed some noncommittal noises. ’Which is rather flattering in a sense, but I don’t want a fifty year old daddy panting me in my neck, if you know what I say. Understand me correct: I am all for LGB rights – I’m a leftie for God’s sake – and I am not against some skins happening to be gay. What people do in their beds is their own business. I just want people to enter the scene out of the right motives. If you hate ska or oi!, can’t take a punch, and lack a sense of style, you don’t belong. Any upper class twat can shave his head, but he will not get what skinhead is about. Nor will the idiots who only want a pretext to pick a fight. They are just poseurs, all of them. And the boneheads have no flair for style: Have you ever seen a bonehead wearing a crombie coat? And they prefer threadbare WP t-shirts before a perfect Ben Sherman.’ * * * ’You will never believe what happened during lunchtime today.’, John told Carl while they helped the melocore club moving the large loud-speakers. ’No? What happened?’, Carl asked. ’Peter asked me if he could join me training at the gym.’ ’You are kidding me. Peter is a racist wanker. I suppose you told him to go to hell.’ ’No. At first, I couldn’t believe it was happening, but he seemed to be honest about it, and it sounded like he didn’t want to hang around Anderson anymore.’ ’What if it is just a trick?’ ’I don’t know. Perhaps this could let us put some pressure on him to stop behaving like an idiot.’ ’It’s easy for you to say, John. You have never been bullied. I have seen what Peter is capable of, and it’s not pretty. For Aram’s sake, you should say no.’ The discussion was interrupted, when Simon entered the room. He gave some directions. The room was soon ready for a concert. ’I hope you stand by our agreement?’, Carl said to Simon. ’We help you with this, and your club will pay for an oi! and ska themed Saturday in two months.’ ’Yes. Yes, of course. That’s the deal. Why do you repeat yourself all the time?’, answered Simon. * * * Aram’s mother didn’t approve of his new look. He was slowly untying the green shoelaces of his boots, when she asked: ’John, you have always been a nice boy. Why, of a sudden, do you look like a nazi?’ ’Sorry Mrs A., but I don’t look like nazi.’ ’That jacket and those boots. I have heard about nazis who look like that.’ ’He’s right, mom’, Aram interrupted. ’There’s a lot of anti-racists who sport that look, nowadays.’ Mrs A. looked slightly confused. ’Back when I was in your age, only nazis looked like that.’ ’The nazis were probably the visible ones, back then. But the roots of skinhead culture goes further back, before the split between racists and anti-racists within the culture. It was originally about Jamaican music. Oi! music was added in the 70’s. The split between racist skins and anti-racist skins took place in 1982. The racist skins are seldom seen anymore, at least in this country. The far right guys went on to wear ties and suits or became rockers or were assimilated by the casuals. Actually, I don’t understand why the far right guys tried to nick a culture about Jamaican music to begin with. And by the way, I’m not a skinhead yet, anyhow. I’ve got hair.’ 'If you call that hair.' Aram’s mother still didn’t look like she knew what to believe, but began putting dishes on the table. ’I’m glad that you help Aram with exercise. He only read books before.’ ’Mum!’, Aram protested indignantly. John recognized the situation too well: What is it with parents who behave like you still are fourteen or something? John continued to chat politely with Aram’s mother, while they ate a salad of parsley and fried breadcrumbs, chicken, chickpea sauce, and olives. After the meal Aram and John went into Aram’s room. It looked different from what John could remember. The posters of hockey players had disappeared. A novena candle similar to John’s own stood in the window. Aram had two bookshelves from IKEA, filled with books about natural science, mostly about biology and medicine. John watched the books confused. He could remember how he once had been able to understand the content of books like these, but he also became acutely aware of that he wasn’t able to digest their content anymore. The world felt weird, like it changed around him. ’Aram, I need to talk to you.’, John said. ’Same here. Carl is always present when we meet at the gym, so I haven’t got any opportunity. Not since our homework Tuesdays ended.’ ’Homework Tuesdays? You do remember them? No one else seem to remember, and no one else seem to remember that you once were almost as big as I am now.’ ’So you remember, too? It sounded like you did at the gym a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure.’ ’You will probably not believe me, but it feels like I have lived in two different realities, and now only the better reality is left. It feel so good that the other reality has disappeared.’ ’You seem to like it?’ ’Do you remember the same other reality as I do?’ ’I believe so, but I am not sure. Why do you ask?’ ’There was not much to like in the other reality, so of course I prefer this one. You don’t have to be a genius to understand that.’ ’Oh.’ ’Oh, what?’ Aram’s eyes and eyebrows expressed several feelings, exactly what wasn’t easy to interpret. ’Oh… The thing I liked with the other reality, was my success at the gym and in martial arts.’ ’Yes. I admit that that detail must have been good for you. For you. For me that other reality was hell. Whatever is happening, it is for the better.’ ’I’m glad to hear that. Eh. Uh…’ ’What are you trying to say?’ ’John. I love science. I want to dedicate my life to science, but there seem to be some things that are beyond scientific explanations.’ ’Perhaps there are. I haven’t thought much about it, but generally people would call me a sceptic.’ ’But you can’t explain away what’s happening to us. You know that it is real?’ ’It could have been me becoming mentally ill, but not if the same thing happens to both of us independently.’ ’Precisely. I can’t expect you to believe me, but I think… Eh. Uh. Ehrm…’ Aram rose from the chair before his computer, and reached the window. ’This novena candle. And yours. I bought them from a crazy lady… No, she wasn’t crazy. She was very sane, but very odd. She claimed that you and I could have our highest wishes come true through these, but at a cost.’ ’A cost?’ ’It seems like I became a perfect science student, but losing my muscles, while you became a poorer science student, when you achieved all that muscle.’ John felt suddenly aroused. He had packed on a lot of beef. It felt good, so much better than being like he was before. But losing his skills in biology was the price to pay? To hell with biology. The feel of these… He put his right hand on his left pec and squeezed. It felt good. He rose from the bed, standing before Aram with his full height. ’Are you angry at me?’ John hugged him. Aram could feel the presence of John’s muscular physique pressed against him. Aram could also feel that John’s dick was stiff, which made him uncomfortable. ’Angry? Why should I be angry with you? You have given me a gift. You could have asked first, but then I could have refused it as a bad joke, so probably you couldn’t have asked before. I love how reality has turned out to be.’ Aram looked relieved. ’Oh, another thing. Peter want to join us at the gym, but I wanted to ask you first.’ * * * Chapter three is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7668-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-three/
  13. Preface Dear muscledrain, You wanted a magic switch of brains and brawn. I could have chosen to make the protagonist a black-metal kid called Moonsorrow Bloodpain, who invoked Cthulhu,* or something similar, to facilitate the magic, but then both himself and his recently muscular friend would eventually have been eaten by unnamable and eldritch primordial spacegods* of the elder days, and – as I understood your story idea – you expected something slightly more feelgood than that. But which sort of magic would be feelgood? Classical gods from Greece and Rome transforming mortal men is a story idea already used several times over at Metabods (Dionysus and Mars, if I remember correctly), so that idea was already taken. It then struck me, that some people out there IRL believe in a sort of magic Moonsorrow Bloodpain definitely would shun: Hoodoo – which is a mix of native Congolese religion, Protestantism, Dutch folklore, Catholicism (since the 1960’s) and slight traces of renaissance esotericism. It would probably be feelgood enough. But then another dilemma emerged: Which red-blooded, sports obsessed young male in a predominantly Agnostic environment would get the idea to even ask an eccentric and mysterious hoodoo lady for help? I then realised that bodybuilding and martial arts are very popular among young Syriac men, and that they – however laddish they are indeed – often have an honest respect for the saints. I have also observed that a lot of MMA fighters like to wear rosaries. Some of my former neighbours are Syriacs – very nice and friendly people with a flair for making good food. This is the way one of the protagonists was invented. I want to thank sithspawn, CardiMuscleman, mrk78, yourself, and some others for very valuable linguistic and stylistic advice. To write in a foreign language is full of potential errors. Any remaining errors are my own fault. Just as Northern Americans (and I don’t mean Canadians and Bahamians at the moment) let their Muscle Growth Stories take place in the US (or in a fictitious country identical to the US when it comes to educational system and cultural patterns, such as sports scholarships, pompoms, American football and resident colleges), I will, as a Swede, let the following story occur in a fictitious country with an educational system and cultural patterns indistinguishable from the Swedish ones: an academic year consisting of two semesters (not three terms), no school uniforms, pupils/students living at home with their parents at least until the age of 19, mixed social backgrounds at many (but not all) schools, and Agnostics observing Christian holidays. The difference between working class and middle class is probably more subtle and fluid over here than in other parts of the world – at least that was my impression on vacation in UK and Italy. The city in the story is, however, a city that never was. It will be futile, if any other Scandinavians reading this will try to figure out exactly where the story takes place: Everywhere and nowhere. The spelling of surnames have been anglicised. That wasn’t, however, necessary with the first names, which could pass for many nationalities just as they are. Comics readers: Look out for the easter egg. I hope you will have fun! Addenda * Long after writing this introduction, I actually wrote a horror story about Lovecraftesque forgotten eldritch primordial spacegods, called Professor Schnackenburg's mistake. With a little help from magic Chapter One The cold wind pushed the red and yellow leaves over the schoolyard with a rustling sound. The sky was steel-grey and unforgiving. Inside the brick-building housing the sixth-form school, lockers were clattering, and the sound of many voices blended into a tiresome murmur. Feet swiftly hurried to lecture rooms. John had put his rucksack in his locker, and was taking his chemistry book out, when he heard a disturbingly familiar voice behind him: ’Isn’t it Swotter? Oi! Swotter, I’m speaking to you!’ The eighteen-year-old closed the locker, and tried to look in another direction. Sometimes it worked. ’Look at me, when I’m talking to you!’ A hand on his shoulder. A foot behind his heel. Suddenly, John found himself on the floor and the chemistry book a few metres to the left, between another row of lockers. It was Peter and his friends. As usual. Peter and his little crowd of followers had made primary school, secondary school and the initial two years of sixth form a living hell for John, and there was no sign that anything would change, until John left for university in another city and Peter’s gang left school, most likely in order to face unemployment. Peter put his black cowboy boot on John’s chest. Like his chums, Peter had enthusiastically embraced the 50’s revival when it became fashionable, and they all tried really hard to look like exaggerated stereotypes of 50’s rockers. Most of them wore black leather jackets, unbleached denim jeans, and white T-shirts or plaid shirts, and they had put some gunk in their hair and combed it in a 1950’s style. Unlike some of his friends, Peter hadn’t been able to afford a leather jacket, so he wore a cheap denim jacket instead, and had sewn a Confederate flag on it, in the belief that ’that was very rock’n’roll’. ’Is that an army jersey, Swotter? Considering joining the forces?’ John felt embarrassed. If he kept silent, it would just go on. If he answered, the result would be identical. ’It is a hunter’s jersey.’ ’We didn’t know you were hunting! Did we, lads?’ ’I don’t, but I take photographs of rare birds. The jersey protects from cold weather.’ ’Scared of blood, I see. It wouldn’t be a good idea to join the army then? Would it, Swotter?’ ’I said it isn’t an army jersey. Ouch!’ Peter had moved his boot to John’s Adam’s apple. ’Listen very carefully. If I were you, I wouldn’t insult our brave boys in green by wearing that jersey, whatever you call it. Now take it off!’ ’But… Ouch!’ Peter increased the pressure on John’s Adam’s apple, then removed his foot, and came closer to John, sitting in a squatting position. Peter grabbed John’s jersey, and minuscule stains of spit rained on John’s face when Peter shouted. ’Now, you little pansy, you take that jersey off – either putting it in the cafeteria dust-bin or giving it to Anderson here. He deserves it better than you. Isn’t that right Anderson?’ Anderson, a blond football player, about the same height as John, but considerably more athletic, had been a henchman of Peter for years. He had a smug grin on his face. ’And what do you think you are doing, you friggin’ racist?’ Peter and his friends had to turn around. John rose from the floor, dusted away spots of sand from his clothes, and looked for his chemistry book. The newcomer who had spoken was Simon, the tall leftie intellectual from the other science class. Peter leered at him. It seemed that he had met Simon before. ’Don’t meddle, Simon. This isn’t your concern.’ ’Sure it is. Yesterday, you and your gang bullied Aram’s little brother and neighbour. But after what I can see today, you like to bully anyone, regardless of origin. Ridiculous greasers!’ John adjusted his eyeglasses, and now saw that Simon wasn’t alone. He had brought Aram, the brawny Syriac hockey guy, and Carl, the anti-racist skinhead, with him. Although Peter and his friends outnumbered Simon and his friends with five to three, Peter sized up his opponents a few seconds. Although not very muscular (but rather on the slim side), Simon was tall, and it was well-known at the school that he had practiced kung-fu, before his deep commitment in the Anarchist Student Society, Amnesty International, the local melocore club (and a handful of other associations) had limited the time available on exercise. Two years ago, Simon and John had served together in the Student Council, and John had appreciated Simon’s wit. Carl was shorter than Simon, but taller than Aram. He spent some time at the gym, but not as strictly and devotedly as Aram obviously did. His shaved head gave him an aggressive demeanour, and that impression was enhanced by the gauge in his earlobe, his snug fitting maroon polo shirt, the blue braces that contrasted well against the maroon background, the bleached jeans, and the extremely well-polished, heavy and steel-capped boots on his feet. His black Alpha bomber jacket was covered with patches and pins: ’Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice’, ’The Oppressed’, ’The Burial’, ’Operation Ivy’, ’FC St. Pauli’. He oozed of angry adolescent masculinity. Aram was of average height, but more broad-shouldered than any of the young men. He had an innately muscular constitution, and had been in good shape already during his time in the hockey team. When he left secondary school, and began his sixth form education, he had left the hockey team in order to take up martial arts of some sort, and also joined a gym. He now looked like a bodybuilder without any body fat, and moved like a tiger: A very broad shouldered tiger. During their entire time at school, Aram had always been so absorbed by exercise, that he never noticed if bullying occurred somewhere around him. If Aram had begun to spend time with a decent guy like Simon, it was probably a step in the right direction. After eyeing his opponents, Peter ordered his crowd to leave. ’Everything alright now?’, Simon asked. ’Yes. Thank you for helping me.’ ’To be honest, it was just a coincidence, but I am glad that we could be of assistance. Aram here is beginning to develop a social conscience by hanging with me and Carl, aren’t you?’ Aram mumbled something, and looked down into the floor. ’I’m late to the student newspaper meeting. Later.’ Simon disappeared around a corner. Carl had to leave his bomber jacket in his locker, and was on his way to a math lesson, but Aram was scheduled for the same chemistry class as John. They were late. ’You both know that late arrival will affect your grades. It will perhaps not concern you very much, John, but in your case, Aram, I would be worried.’ It was Mr. Gustavson, the chemistry teacher, known for his sardonic personality, and secretly nicknamed ’Snape’ among the students. ’As I said before you arrived, you have to team up in pairs and study how a primitive form of plastic is produced. It is a very simple example of how polymers behave.’ ’It seems like we have to lab together, today’, John said shyly. Aram didn’t speak very much while he assisted John, but, despite their late arrival, they were the first among the students to achieve a nice cylinder of plastic in a test tube in the end of the lesson. That gave Aram an idea. * * * It had been a few days earlier, during the Sunday church lunch at the Orthodox church of St. James’. ’Ameen. Moryo nqabel qurbonokh, wlan n’adar bashlawothokh.’ The last prayer in the extremely ancient Aramaic-speaking Christian liturgy ended, and the congregation left the room, kissing the Gospel Book at the entrance, and receiving pieces of non-consecrated bread. There were old ladies in mantillas, old men in their three-piece Sunday best, lots of parents with children, a dark-eyed and doe-eyed girl’s choir in choir dress, and a bunch of young men slightly younger or older than Aram. The last group was the most noisy one, and the lads were joking and playing with each other. Most of them wore jeans, expensive jerseys and shirts, but a few of the oldest ones wore suits, and some of the younger ones were dressed in tracksuit pants and hoodies. Most of them were dark haired and wore a lot of hair gel, but some were buzzcut, and two of them were redheaded. Many of them wore sturdy golden chains around their necks, from which crucifixes or the Syriac nationalist symbol of a feathered archer hang. Some of the attendees immediately left the parking lot, but most stayed inside for the Sunday church lunch. A buffet was prepared: Bulgur mixed with roasted noodles, tabbouleh – a salad of parsley, couscous, tomatoes, onions, garlic, mint leaves, lemon and olive oil – and several smaller bowls filled with falafel, dolma, chickpea sauce and eggplant sauce. Aram sat down with his mother, his uncle and his aunt. His mother was putting her folded mantilla in her purse, now when she no longer stood inside the consecrated room. ’Listen Aram’, uncle Benjamin began, ’there is a thing your mother and I have been talking about.’ Uh, uh. Now it comes again. Aram felt tired of this. His uncle meant well, but it felt like he was picking on him. ’Before your father died, I promised him, that I would help you become a doctor, just like your father and your grandfather. We have talked about this before: You have to achieve better grades, otherwise you will not be able to study medicine.’ A steel grey lady in her sixties approached the table. Mother and aunt Layla rose, gathered around her, and began to discuss with her in the old language. Aram wasn’t good at the old language. He was born in the new country, and spoke its language without any accent. ’Your mother and I are worried about you. The medical trade is a family tradition, but your grades have not been good the last years.’ ’But you are not a doctor. You own a grocery shop.’ ’This discussion is not about me, young man, but about you. If you begin medical studies, I promise to help you financially, but if you don’t, you can’t expect any money from me for university.’ * * * It was a day later. Aram and his girlfriend Emma entered the room for the history lesson. ’Hi, Emelie!’, Emma shouted, and claimed a chair close to her friend Emelie. Emma and Emelie didn’t at all have the same preferences when it came to style, but were friends anyhow. Emma was a blonde young woman with black high rise slim fit jeans and a yellow top which revealed some of her cleavage. Her shoes were yellow Converse. Emelie, on the other side, had dyed her hair black, and wore a black dress with a lot of lace. Around Emelie’s neck hang several pendants of different sorts: A cross, a star of David and a pentagram. She didn’t discriminate between religions, but it was also possible that she didn’t care very much for what the symbols signified to other people. Aram looked around, and when he found that the chair close to John was empty, he sat down beside John. ’Hello again. Do you mind if i sit here?’ They both unpacked their laptops, and had to end their chat, since their history teacher, Mr. Johanson, had begun to talk. Mr. Johanson was one of the oldest teachers at the school, and didn’t have many years left until retirement. He always wore black jeans, a sleeveless pullover and a tweed jacket. Unlike the younger male teachers, who dressed less strictly, he always had a tie knit around his neck. His hair was white and slightly receding. ’The world events of the 20th century, would probably had been very different, if World War One hadn’t occurred. The stern conditions of the peace treaty of 1919, caused many Germans and Austrians to feel disproportionally and unjustly punished, and that prepared the way for Hitler and the Second World War. For the British Empire, the end of the war initiated the slow devolvement of the empire: The Irish Free State was declared in 1922, and in 1931 dominions – such as Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Newfoundland, South Africa and the Irish Free State – were defined as ’completely self-governing’. Some sorts of constitutional reforms would probably have occurred in Russia anyhow, but not necessarily in the revolutionary Bolshevik way it now did: Don’t forget that the February Revolution in 1917 was about limiting the power of the Czar constitutionally, and preparing the way for free elections, general suffrage and civil liberties. The Bolsheviks didn’t grab the political power until October, and would probably not have reached the necessary level of initial popular support, if the Russian people hadn’t been exhausted by three years of warfare. The war also caused USA to change the way it behaved in international politics. During the 19th century the Monroe doctrine had isolated the US from international politics, but – with the exception of the Philippine-American War about a decade before World War One – the US had until then avoided entanglement in any conflict far beyond its own borders. From a certain point of view, the Philippine-American War and World War One, became templates for what later happened in Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. The history of the 20th century is impossible to understand without World War One as the background. When we now begin to look closer…’ John felt good sitting so close to the big and warm lump of muscles. John hadn’t thought much about it before, but became now aware of the warm brown colour of Aram’s eyes, like brown gemstones reflecting a golden light. Aram emitted a nice scent of some sort of anti-perspirant, but probably not an expensive one. The presence of Aram made him feel comforted and protected. Aram had never or seldom preferred to sit beside John before, so this was something new. The lesson had ended. ’John, you are really smart. Would you possibly help me with homework? I want to get better test results, and who better than you?’ ’We could have begun this years ago, if you just had asked. Which day would be best for you? I often go by bus to Willow Lake in Thursdays. Wildlife photography, you know. And I suppose you exercise very often. Which day would be best for you?’ They agreed to keep Tuesdays open for study together. Emma approached them. ’You must hear this, Aram! Emelie has found such a cute shop with books and magic candles and stuff, and I could probably have my horoscope done. Isn’t it amazing? You must follow me and Emelie to that shop after school!’ * * * The following afternoon, Emelie, Emma and Aram got on the tram, and went to a picturesque part of the city Aram seldom visited. They left the tram at a stop just outside a Neo-gothic church building called Holy Trinity, and then followed a narrow and meandering, cobblestone paved alley on their way to the shop Emelie had mentioned. The houses were small and old here, but some of them seemed to have been restored recently, as an effect of ongoing gentrification. Withered roses and dark green ivy covered some of the exteriors. They passed by a tailor’s shop, a vegetarian restaurant, a dentist’s clinic and a former – now closed – bicycle workshop. A few of the buildings seemed to have been turned into homes very recently – which was easily recognised through the fresh plaster in yellow, lavender or dove blue colours, but other buildings were still shabby, some of them derelict. ’Here it is.’, Emelie announced. Aram got a first impression of the shop. He had definitely not seen it before. Grey stairs of stone led downwards to a door under street level. Two rather small shop-windows before his knees announced: Madame Cremorna. Books. Herbs. Readings. It felt a little bit spooky, but Emelie enthusiastically led them downstairs, and opened the door. A bell tinkled. The first thing that he noticed was the scent. The fragrance of many sorts of herbs and incenses mixed with each other. He felt awkward again. This wasn’t the sort of place a masculine guy like himself was expected to frequent. Wasn’t there something slightly feminine or gay about this scent? He considered to leave immediately, but that could make Emma mad at him. He didn’t want that. The second thing he noticed was the broad mix of things in the room. This was not just a book shop. The books were there, for sure – he saw a rotating stand with them: How To Earn Money By Positive Thinking. The Dolphins Speak: Telepathic Messages From Our Cousins In The Sea. The New Age Of The Flying Saucers. It could have been an ordinary New Age shop, but he could also see tin boxes with herbs, packets of soap or dry foodstuff with Spanish labels, shelves with incense sticks and small jars with the sort of incense grains he was able to recognise from church. His association to church was increased, when he found shelves carrying a large number of glass encased novena candles with stickers depicting saints. Some of them he could recognise, but, with his family background, he was more familiar with Eastern saints than Western, and the identity of some Western saints on the candles were undecipherable. The cash register stood upon a glass desk. Inside the desk he could see decks of cards in many shapes. He hadn’t seen any cards like these before. ’How do you play poker with these?’, he asked Emelie. ’They are not for poker, stupid.’, she answered, ’They are divination decks, for reading the future’. ’I am not sure I believe in that.’, Aram replied. Just now he wasn’t sure exactly what he believed. There was an eerie feeling in the shop. He wanted to get out. ’You are free to believe in anything you want. We are all responsible for how we use our freedom, and it is unwise to go against your own conscience.’ The alto voice vibrated with a rich timbre. It belonged to a woman in her early sixties. She had probably looked good during her younger days, and she obviously still cared about her appearance. Her hair was black, without any traces of silver in it yet, and she was dressed in a rust-coloured dress and a dark grey vest of wool. Around her neck hang a tin pendant depicting a very complicated geometrical pattern. In her younger days, she could have been a hippie. ’I’m sorry lady, but I can’t believe in telepathic dolphins and flying saucers.’ Aram waved in the direction of the rotating book stand. ’To be honest, I am not at all impressed by these books myself, but some of my customers ask for them, so I sell them. It pays the rent.’ There was a slight, possibly American-English, accent when she spoke, but very faint. ’So you don’t believe in the supernatural, yourself?’ ’Oh. I do! But that depends on what you call supernatural. If you mean telepathic dolphins, saucers, physical trolls or god-kings inside a hollow Earth, I do not believe in the supernatural.’ Emelie was studying the card decks inside the glass desk, but Emma stood by Aram’s side, hugging his arm. ’You are into sports, I suppose?’, the shop keeper asked him. ’Aram was a hockey player for many years.’, Emma answered proudly. ’And now I work out and practice martial arts.’, Aram continued. ’Then the psychology of sport can’t be unknown for you.’, Madame Cremorna said, ’And you surely must have experienced, how your own mind affects your physical achievements?’ ’Well. Yes. But that’s not supernatural.’ ’It is anyhow a part of scientific reality which borders to the supernatural – that is, supernatural in the sense I use the word.’ Aram was on his way to answer, but the shop keeper continued: ’And you belong perhaps to the Assyrian Church?’ Aram smiled: ’Close enough, but you were wrong there: I belong to the Syriac Orthodox Church. The Assyrians are our cousins.’ ’And you believe in God? And in angels? And in saints?’ ’Well. Yes, I do.’ ’The supernatural I believe in is about God, about angels, about saints, but also about sports psychology. It is admittedly not a complete description of what I do – far from it – but it seems like we are able to agree about a major part of it, anyhow.’ She was silent a few seconds. ’And what are you looking for? Books? Devotionals? Cards? A horoscope? Or do you want me to use magic for some purpose?’ ’We are just looking. Emelie told us about your shop, and it is just adorable’, Emma answered, ’but it looks much more Catholic than the other New Age shop on the other side the canal.’ Madame Cremorna smiled. ’It’s perhaps because it is not a New Age shop. Not in the general sense. It is inspired by botanicas of the sort common in Florida, where I grew up. We had a lot of Cubans and Puertoricans there.’ ’Have you lived in this part of the world for a long time?’ ’Quite a long time. Yes. My former boyfriend thought it was a good idea to move to Northern Europe a few years before the end of the Vietnam War.’ Emma continued to chat with the shop keeper for several minutes. Emelie still looked at the decks. Aram began to wander around in the shop. A square diagram with twenty-three arcane symbols hang on a wall. Bookshelves contained titles such as Three Books on Occult Philosophy, The Enchiridion, Selected prayers by Allan Kardec, and The Long-Lost Friend. A burgundy-coloured curtain covered door opening to an inner room. Curiously, Aram peeked inside. Several small tables were pushed up against the walls, covered with cloths in different colours. Candles were lit, scented in several different ways. The air was sweet and heavy. ’Uh oh. The inner sanctum is only open for some customers.’, Madame Cremorna said, where she stood behind his back. Aram blushed. ’I didn’t mean to do something wrong. Sorry, lady.’ When they left the shop, Emelie brought a recently bought tarot deck, and Emma carried a folder with her personal horoscope. * * * It was two days later. The bell tinkled in the usual way, when the door to the shop opened and closed. ’And what do you want, young man?’, she asked. ’I haven’t done well in my exams. I want to be sure my grades are good when I finish Sixth Form.’, Aram said. ’And when is that? If I hadn’t first met you with that young gothic girl and her friend, I would have guessed that you were older than a Sixth Form student.’ She eyed him knowingly. ’The last semester ends in June next year.’ Her face expressed mixed emotions: Pity, astonishment and a slight amount of aunt-like cunningness. ’Magic works normally through natural means, and natural means works slowly. A lesser working could have been enough, if you had asked me a year ago, and backed the magic up with real effort in class. But now, with just eight months…’ She didn’t end her sentence. There was a sad expression in Aram’s eyes, reminiscent of a very large, but very young and sad, puppy. The element of pity in Madame Cremorna’s eyes became more prominent. ’Let us discuss natural means first. You would probably learn more, if you do homework together with someone in your class, who’s got a talent for study.’ ’I already do.’ Aram told Madame Cremorna all about John. ’You have got a good new friend in him. Be nice to him.’, Madame Cremorna said. ’Homework with John helps, but not enough, and not fast enough. And I wish I could make mother and my uncle proud. But if you can’t help me…’ ’If something of what I do works, it is not because I have helped you, but because God has answered the prayers of several beings. Some call it magic, but ultimately all things and events comes from The Supreme Being anyhow. The ways and the means and the chains of events may vary, however. Or so is the way I see it.’ ’But you said, that I should have asked a year ago?’ ’I said, that a lesser working could have been enough then. With only eight months until graduation, I have to do a greater working, but only if you are ready to pay the price.’ ’I don’t own very much, but…’ ’I don’t talk about money. I talk about the willingness to choose talent for study before anything else. Wait. Don’t say anything yet. I will give you a reading.’ ’A reading?’ ’Just relax.’ She opened a purple bag of velvet, laid a pack of cards on the table, and mumbled a prayer. Aram couldn’t hear the words. She let him shuffle the cards, and then put three cards on the table cloth. The first card depicted a knight in armour, sitting on a horse. The second card depicted an old man with a beard, clothed in some sort of mediaeval brown gown, holding a staff with a snake – similar to the symbol sometimes used by hospitals and chemists – and holding a lantern in the other hand. By his feet lay a scythe and a hourglass. Far away, the presence of an owl could be distantly hinted at. The third card depicted a young man in renaissance clothes, carrying a round plate, smaller than a shield, but larger than a coin. From his bag a scroll and a quill pen peeked out. ’Hmm…’ Madame Cremorna didn’t say much for a while. Suddenly, she gathered all the cards into the deck again, and began shuffling. She laid the deck on the cloth, and pushed it over the table. ’Here. Shuffle, and think intensely about your friend John.’ Aram did what he was told to do, and gave her the deck again. ’That was all for today. Come back tomorrow afternoon, and I will tell you if I have found a way to help you.’ Aram felt a little bit disappointed. It had been stupid of him to come here, to begin with. He shrugged and left. When he had left, Madame Cremorna again lay three cards on the table. She was rather surprised to find the knight and the squire from the last reading come up again, but this time with reversed places: The squire with the plate to the left, and the knight with a sword to the right. The card in the middle was not the same. Where the card with the old bearded man had laid a few minutes ago, now lay a card depicting a half naked and extremely muscular man clothed in the skin rug of a lion. He had left his heavy club on the ground, and was breaking a stone pillar in two halves. Madame Cremorna remained almost expressionless, but one of her eyebrows twitched. She had got an idea. When Aram returned the next afternoon, he expected bad news. The shop keeper seemed, however, to be in a good mood, although perhaps mixed with an amount of harshness. She put two class encased candles on the desk. ’You are young. I will not let you pay the full price I charge an adult with full time salary. But you must be aware of the consequences of your request. Are you willing to let your friend become less talented, while you increase your own study results?’ ’Isn’t that black magic?’ Aram felt a chill on his back. He would probably not have asked for this, to begin with. ’I never accept black workings. I accept grey ones, however. Most human wishes rests in the grey area. The born-again nonconformist who prays to God for promotion at work, the churchman praying for a happy marriage, the white light Neo-pagan sending away a spell for fair weather at the picnic – all their wishes are tainted by a certain amount of selfishness. And so is yours. All of them are mixed with good intentions. And so is yours.’ ’But I can’t rob John of his intelligence. It is not fair.’ ’That depends. A greater working will affect reality on a deeper plane. In a sense, you will have switched – or better, mixed – destinies with each other. I have tried to conjure good destines over both of you, but you will still have to pay the price of tampering with destinies.’ ’Not my soul?’, Aram asked bleakly. ’Then I refuse.’ ’No, not your soul. I do not dabble in diabolism. Actually, I have fought against the minions of darkness on several occasions. But a greater working, affecting the threads of destiny, will take its toll from the one who ordered it, quite soon after the commencement. We are all responsible for our actions. Do you really want a talent for study?’ The question hung in the air for a moment. It cannot have been for a longer time than a second or two, but for Aram it felt like time stood still, like if a gigantic pendulum in an ancient clockwork was swinging over his head. It was still time to thank her for her willingness to help, but refuse to go further. ’Yes. I really want it. Just be sure that John will be happy.’ ’No-one can be one hundred percent sure, but I have reason to believe that he will enjoy the turn of events that will unfold, as well.’ ’Ooo-key? Well, then I suppose there will be no problem? What are the candles for?’ She pointed at one of the candles. It had a card on it, depicting a man in a bishop’s mitre, writing on parchment with a quill. He was surrounded by bookshelves. ’This is St. Isidore of Seville. You will take this home, and burn it nine consecutive Wednesdays until it is all burned away. St. Isidore wrote one of the first encyclopaedias in the world, and was recently designated the patron saint of internet.’ She pointed at the other candle. The card on it depicted a broad shouldered and bearded giant carrying the infant Jesus on his shoulder. ’This is St. Christopher. In the legend he was a giant who converted to Christianity. In reality, we don’t know very much about him, but the moral of the legend is edifying anyhow.’ ’What am I supposed to do with that candle?’ ’Give it to your friend John. If he don’t want to burn it every day or night, let him burn it whenever he likes. Tuesdays would be good, however.’ * * * It was Tuesday again. According to their new habit, John was helping Aram to study. ’And what am I supposed to do with this?’, John asked, curiously holding the glass encased prayer candle. ’You know that I am an Agnostic, don’t you?’ ’Some people burn it because they like how it looks or because they like the scent. It is just one month left until Advent, isn’t it?’ Shall I tell him about it? Aram thought intensely, and felt divided. To tell him the truth. But if he became angry and refused to help anymore at study time together? John was helpful. It would be awful if something terrible happened to him. But Madame Cremorna had said that he would enjoy what was happening, whatever that was. ’But isn’t it a little bit girlish, don’t you think?’ ’Not among my relatives. It is quite common that lads wear saint pendants, for instance.’ ’Yes. Now when you mention it, I have seen some of your martial art friends wearing rosaries, and I can’t accuse them for being girlish.’ The tension disappeared when Aram began to laugh. ’No, you can’t. At least not if you don’t take into account the time they spend in the bathroom, but so do I.’ ’Well, just as a sign of my gratitude for your gesture…’ John lit the candle, and then changed the subject. ’I have been thinking’, John said, ’about exercise.’ Aram was relieved that the subject had changed: ’What about exercise? You may be good at integral calculus and derivate – I have problem understanding what the bloody words mean – but I know a lot about exercise. Ask whatever you wish.’ ’To be honest: I think it is rather – ehrm.’ John’s cheeks and ears became more red than usual. ’I mean, I think it is cool to have muscles, even if it is hard to admit.’ ’It is not something to be shy about, little buddy. Many men like to be beefy. I guess most men would like to be built, even if not everyone like to admit it. Could you imagine Snape lifting weights?’ It was not only Aram’s joke about the acerbic chemistry teacher, but also his facial expression, which helped John to explode with laughter. It also shattered John’s embarrassment. ’Could you teach me how to work out at the gym, if I help you with homework?’ ’Fair enough. I sometimes feel stupid with you. At the gym I will be the teacher.’ Aram proudly flexed his right biceps, and felt cocky when he saw how John’s eyes involuntarily became wider. ’You like what you see?’ John suddenly looked shy again. Aram felt protective. John was so short and thin. ’Want to feel that bicep? Don’t be afraid. I’m not teasing you. It is fun for me to show my results.’ Shyly, John laid his palm over Aram’s biceps, and pressed carefully. ’Harder!’, Aram encouraged. John pressed harder. Aram’s biceps was of the size and density of a croquet-ball, and it rested on a really big triceps. John felt awkward again. His dick was growing and hardening. He sat down on the bed, and hoped that Aram hadn’t noticed. ’Which gym would be good for me?’ ’Why don’t you follow me to the one I workout at?’ ’Aren’t there a lot of big guys there? And doesn’t Peter and his crew hang out there?’ ’Peter is lazy at the gym, and I haven’t seen any of his friends there. Anderson is preoccupied with football, and the others spend their time with driving lessons, booze and grass. They aren’t very healthy, if you ask me. And I will be with you there. If Peter mess with you, I will have a serious conversation with him. He better stay away. The big guys at the gym are alright. Some of them like to give advice. Carl would probably join us at some times.’ * * * John stood before the desk at the gym, and felt shy. A very fit, but not gigantic, trainer manned the desk, dressed in a snug red T-shirt with the gym’s logotype on its chest. ’I’m waiting for a friend.’, John explained apologetically. He peeked into a folder about prices, and found a one-year membership mandatory. In September next year, he would most probably study at university in another city, and the last two months of a one-year membership would be wasted. Aram came in through the door, and began discussing membership and prices with the trainer and John, and, as a result, John got a deal, which meant, that he only had to pay for ten months. They entered the locker room, changed clothes, and Aram began to introduce John to the machines and weightroom. ’For anyone experienced, free weights are more important than machines. For a beginner, machines may have a purpose, especially for avoiding injuries. Look, for instance, on this one…’ One and a half hour later, John laid on the floor in the locker room. He had Aram’s towel under his head, and rested his legs on a bench, in order to let blood return to his head. He dripped of sweat, and felt nauseous. Aram returned from the loo with a paper towel dipped in cold water, and laid it on John’s forehead. ’I am sorry little buddy. I didn’t know where your limits were. I didn’t mean to exhaust you that much the first time.’ ’It’s not your fault. How could you know?’ * * * John and Aram had developed a habit of visiting Carl’s family on Sunday afternoons and evenings. Carl often spent Fridays and Saturdays with a bunch of SHARPs from the other side of the city, but Sundays were an opportunity for them to meet outside the gym and watch films together in Carl’s room. They all sat on Carl’s bed, with their backs against the wall. They had watched ’Captain America’ and ’Elysium’, and were now halfway into the Dwayne Johnson version of ’Hercules’. ’Look at all that muscle!’, Carl exclaimed impressed, for the third time during the evening. Aram poked him with his elbow: ’Do you know how gay you sound, Carl?’ ’Who you calling gay?’, Carl answered, and threw himself over Aram, playfully and boisterously tickling him. John bounced up in the air before landing back on the bedspread, but Aram and Carl fell to the floor, laughing and wrestling. It ended with Aram sitting on Carl’s back, holding his arm at an uncomfortable angle. * * * ’Grandmother arrives tomorrow. Will you eat dinner with the entire family?’, John’s mother – who worked with care of aged people – asked him the day before Halloween. ’I will stay home on All Saints, but Emelie has invited me to a Halloween party tomorrow night.’, John answered. ’I’m glad that you leave home more often, nowadays. But you know what grandmother will say.’ ’That borrowings of ghosts and pumpkins from the Americans will commercialise and destroy any decorous celebration of All Saints.’ John and his mother looked silently at each other with giddy looks, and both said in unison: ’What would grandfather say, if he had been alive?’ They laughed. John’s grandmother was not a particularly religious person, and, just as most of their relatives, she unreflectedly mixed Agnosticism with Lutheran Christianity, but she was fond of family traditions, and decorated her home zealously at Advent, Christmas, Easter, May Day and Midsummer, just as she had done as a young Mum in the 1960’s, and she enthusiastically invited friends and relatives to annual crayfish-parties and fermented-herring-dinners when summer turned into autumn. The recent introduction of masquerades at Halloween hadn’t found any approval from the old lady, since she thought that such merriment would distract from the solemn commemoration of the departed. She had decorated her own parents’ tomb today, before travelling to her only daughter and her family. Unlike most persons of her grandchildrens’ generation, his grandmother celebrated her nameday, and since her name was Inga-Birgitta, she celebrated both the seventh and the twenty-fifth of October. While Aram, Carl and John lived in council flats in grey five-storied concrete buildings built in the 1970’s (and Peter lived in a council flat from the late 1950s), Simon, Emma and Emelie lived in a residential garden suburb nearby, where hedges and fences kept one-family houses of mixed age (some of them as old as the 1920’s) apart. A very busy road marked the border between the two areas, but narrow asphalt-coated paths, for bicycles and pedestrians, ran in graffiti-painted tunnels under the road at two different points, connecting these two areas. John met Aram and Carl close to the nearby tunnel. John was dressed in a black suit he had bought half a year ago, when he attended the Confirmation of a cousin. John had put white theatre grease-paint in his face, and fastened vampire teeth on his eye-teeth. ’Greetings, children of the night!’ Aram and Carl smiled. Carl was dressed in camo trousers, but wore the same boots as usual. He was dressed in a black NATO jersey and some sort of combat harness. ’What is that supposed to mean, besides a soldier in general?’ ’Don’t you see? I’m G.I. Joe!’ ’I didn’t watch that film.’ ’You didn’t? It’s awesome! Let’s watch it on Sunday!’ Aram was green painted in his face, and dressed in a thick woolen overcoat. ’And you? That isn’t obvious… unless…’ Aram opened his coat. He didn’t wear any shirt, despite the cold autumnal weather. His entire torso was painted in bright green, and his trousers were purple. ’That’s hilarious! The Hulk! And it is convincing, too.’ ’You are much better than me with words, but I thank you for the compliments.’ ’Than I am’, John absentmindedly corrected Aram. The night was cold and filled with mist, but they found Emelie’s house without any problems. The house was full of very young adults, and it turned out that Emelie’s parents attended a dinner somewhere else that evening. The night went on rather well. The punchbowl probably contained something persons of their age weren’t officially supposed to drink for another two years, but, since the girls in Emelie’s circle of friends were well-behaved, and since most of the boys didn’t want to spoil the hard earned results of their physical exercise, utterly few of them drank too much. Emelie wasn’t known for having patience with fools, and had planned her guest list carefully, weeding out known drunkards. Parties with her classmates and parallel classes were otherwise known to be rather wet. Emelie had succeeded in her attempt to look like Morticia Adams. Emma was clothed in a furry pink rabbit suit, and only her face was visible. Several of the girls were dressed for an ordinary party, and qualified for a masquerade just by wearing pointy witches’ hats. John wasn’t the only vampire among the young men. A few of the guest looked like characters from animes or computer games. Emma seemed disappointed of Emelie’s choice of music: ’Emelie! Now we have listened to Fields of the Nephilim for half an hour. Don’t you have any tunes by Justin Bieber or One Direction?’ ’Are you kidding? Personally, I think it would spoil the Halloween mood, but if you wish to log into your own Spotify account, you are welcome to do so. You know where the computer is, but don’t expect me to tolerate your unbearable music for very long.’ On his way home, John felt awkward and slightly flattered. One of the lightbulbs had broken, and Emelie suffered from dizziness. She had asked John for help. When he stood at a chair, changing the lightbulb, his shirt had left the inside of his trousers and revealed his belly. Emelie had began to giggle nervously, and called after Emma. John didn’t understand why, and felt insulted. ’Please, John. Show us your abs again.’ ’My abs? What are you talking about? You know that I don’t…’ Giggling, Emelie had pinched the shirt fabric and revealed his abs again. His abs? He didn’t… He DID? ’Cool’, Emma said. ’Exercise suits you.’ * * * An Advent wreath stood on the kitchen table, burning with two lit candles and two unlit ones. It was dark outside the window, and, since the first snow had melted away, there was nothing to lighten the winter night up. John stood at a kitchen desk, taking notes of how much various foodstuffs weighed. That would simplify the composition of gym friendly recipes in the future. His mother entered the kitchen, and began to heat a small amount of mulled wine on the electric stove. ’I received phone calls from your chemistry teacher and your biology teacher today. Your physics teacher called yesterday.’ ’Yes?’ ’They are worried about you. Since you started two and a half year ago, they have regarded you as very talented in natural science, but recently your results have deteriorated. They wanted me to talk to you about it.’ ’Nothing is wrong. I just performed unusually bad in a couple of tests the last weeks.’ The mulled wine had reached a desired temperature. She poured some of the content in a mug. ’Do you want some? It is the soft drink version, so you don’t have to worry. It’s cold outside, so I needed something to drive away the chill in my bones.’ ’No, thanks. I avoid sugar as well.’ ’John, I don’t disapprove that you exercise. It seems to be healthy for you, and I am happy that you have a lot more friends now than you had before. But don’t you think you take it a little too far? Why don’t you play floorball or badminton, or jog or swim, or any other more normal sport? It can’t be good for you, to be so obsessed with what you eat. Are you going to eat like that way during Christmas as well? What will grandmother say?’ ’What would grandfather say, if he had been alive?’ ’This is not something to joke about. I’m afraid that your exercise will affect your school results. And I have read about body dysmorphia and eating disorders in the newspapers. Don’t you understand that I am worried about you? What will happen to your plans to become a physician, a biochemist or a physicist, if you let exercise distract you from studies?’ ’YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING!’, John shouted, left the kitchen, took his training bag and closed the door with a bang. His teenage anger went rampant through his mind and body: Thoughts going in a loop, his emotions boiling, his blood pressure pounding, his body temperature steaming. He loosened the wooly scarf and opened the closed zipper of his large jacket. The staff had left the gym, and the doors were closed, but members were given a key tag that unlocked the door at night. The scent of steel corroding under the influence of sweat. The scent of rubber mats. Furiously, he worked out in the almost empty gym: Only two or three other members exercised this late. It felt much better afterwards. The machines, the barbells, the dumbbells: They had helped him to release his irritation, and he now felt calm, content and harmonious. Freshly showered. Meanwhile he had been indoors at the gym, the temperature had dropped, and it had began to snow. The chill had some bite. On his way home, he unexpectedly met Carl, who was on his way home from something else: It had something to do with music. They talked. About parents and other things. Carl. Reliable Carl: Hard as nails, incredibly funny, and a kind friend to his friends. ’Ah. Come here, mate. It will be better tomorrow.’ They exchanged a hug. A brotherly hug. A rather long brotherly hug. Carl’s polo shirt was warm of his body heat. Carl’s glistening, black synthetic bomber jacket was cold of the winter temperatures. The scents from their different anti-perspirants mixed in the cool night air. A brotherly hug. Carl patted John at the back. ’It will probably be better tomorrow.’ * * * Emma sat in her sofa. Aram sat in the same armchair he had sat so many times before. A lit Advent star hung in the window, and spread a soft glow in the living room. From windows on the other side the street other electric Advent stars shone back. Emma was finishing her explanation: ’It isn’t you, it is me. I am not able to appreciate what you speak about. I miss the old Aram from when we first met: My teddy bear. My kind puppy with hockey butt. I am not interested in nuclear science, new medicines or what’s going on in parts of the world I don’t even know where they are. We have nothing in common anymore, if we ever had. I’m sorry. I like you as a friend, but …’ Her lip began to tremble. Aram hug her sadly, carefully and more softly than usual. ’I’m sorry, but I suppose that I understand…’ * * * Madame Cremorna had closed her shop at 7 p.m. as usual. Since the supermarkets kept open until 9 or 10 p.m. she had lots of time to buy the food and Christmas decorations necessary. She returned to her shop, in order to do some work. Supernatural work. She lived in an old-fashioned flat upstairs, which she had bought several years ago, before the prices had begun to rise ridiculously. Her phone rang. ’Madame Cremorna. … O hello Stephen! How is life in New York? I don’t even know what time it is in your time zone. … It is? … Aha. … A disturbance? … Oh, yes, I am up to a major working, but it is far from world-shattering, you know. Professional secrecy, so I can’t say anything, but I can assure you that it is just about the private life of two persons and their surroundings. It is not like I am about to open a gate for Dormammu or Nergal, if you know my drift. … Not funny? I see. … You are? London? Why? … But what brings you and John to this corner of the world? … No? You are kidding? … Yes, of course. Do you have any dietary restrictions before that working? … No. … No, it is no problem at all: I have a lot of vegetarian Christmas dishes. … Pardon? … No, it doesn’t surprise me that John isn’t picky. If he would like it, I could probably find a christmas pudding and a turkey for him God knows where, but you have to know that the locals prefer ham, meatballs, cabbage and vanilla rice pudding at this time of the year. And herring. Lots of herring. Remind me to put an ash tray in my living room while you stay. … Oh yes. … No, no problem at all. Take care, and give me a call when you think you will stop by.’ She hang up and washed her hands, first in running water and a non-perfumed soap, then in Florida Water. She sprinkled herself with holy water, went before her private shrine and lit both the altar candles and the incense. The air in the room felt thicker now, and the room felt connected to the rest of the world and to the unseen aspects of reality. Her highly trained senses could feel the presence of God, of spirits of many sorts, and of unseen subtle influences stretching themselves out from the room as a cobweb of spiritual light. ’Almighty and everlasting God, who harkened to the prayers of Moses in the wilderness, when he, assisted of Aaron and Hur, prayed for victory against the Amalekites, hear me…’ After a long prayer she stretched her hands out over fragments of candle wax she had removed from a candle, in order to fill it with scented oil. ’O God of my fathers, and Lord of Mercy, who hast made all things with thy word, and ordained man through thy wisdom, that he should have dominion over the creatures which thou hast made, and order the world according to equity and righteousness, and execute judgment with an upright heart: Give me wisdom, that sitteth by thy throne; and reject me not from among thy children…’ Then she did the same to fragments from another candle: ’It is God, that girdeth me with strength of war: and maketh my way perfect. He maketh my feet like harts’ feet: and setteth me up on high. He teacheth mine hands to fight: and mine arms shall break even a bow of steel…’ She had repeated this for weeks now. Divine Spirit was answering. The wheels of the invisible and incomprehensible world machinery turned, and unseen chains of causes and effects slowly turned the former reality into something slightly, slightly different. * * * Chapter two is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7140-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-two/
  14. Tarde más en escribir este capitulo pues no tenia tanta inspiración, aunque tengo muchas mas ideas que quiero escribir después de esta historia, disfruten Cuerpo de demonio cap 3 lujuria y envidia Semana 2, ya las cosas se han complicado demasiado. Los días fueron cambios más notables y… el domingo ocurrió algo que no pensé que ocurriría no así… Ya cuando fuimos el domingo a primera hora por la segunda inyección, volvieron a tomar medidas de todos nosotros, y 2 si habían tenido un gran cambio, uno muy inesperado, Erick y Jack era los que estaban reaccionando mucho mejor al suero. Erick no mencionó su… milagro, pero se le notaba en los ojos, el ego iba creciendo como si ya se sintiera cada vez más completo. Sus medidas cambiaron, pesa ahora 122 kilos dirías que no es mucho pero ¡bajó su porcentaje de grasa a 16%! Se veía increíble y eso que lo vi el jueves, más definido no solo en su abdomen ya más plano aunque aún sin abdominales, su piel estaba más apretada a sus músculos y adelgazando para definir más su vieja gloria; ya en altura no cambio pero sí en cantidad de vello corporal, no había notado en las duchas, quizá fue también un gran cambio repentino pero, vino al laboratorio con una camisa abierta totalmente del pecho, poblado de una gruesa melena negra naciendo en la grieta entre sus pectorales. Jack por otro lado no era tan exhibicionista, usaba una sudadera grande sin dar a conocer a detalle su cuerpo, pero puedo decir que su cara decía otra cosa, más arrogancia como siempre lo que se espera de un adolescente con las hormonas a full y sabiendo que tiene un buen cuerpo, solo que miraba con detalle a Erick, como si tratara de conocer a su rival, con una sonrisa senil ocultando sus intenciones. Erick lo había notado después de sus mediciones y creo que ambos se lanzaron miradas, parecía que ese era el objetivo de Jack ya que una vez teniendo su atención se quita la camisa revelando aunque sin vello corporal, mucho más definido que Erick sin duda pues era casi del mismo tamaño de musculatura aunque en menor estatura ya la brecha había disminuido entre él y Erick, ahora Jack media 1.91 m, el horror no se manifestaría en el ex alfa más tarde y ya verán por qué… su peso ya era también muy similar siendo de 117 kilos, pero con un obvio nivel de grasa ya en un asombroso 7%, los abdominales de este nuevo alfa eran profundos marcando un sixpack casi los 8. Fred por otro lado se había derretido pero sin dejar una mata de piel suelta y flácida, más bien tomó más forma de panza cervecera, dejando de ser un obeso morvido a un obeso grande, más no desagradable. No tenía nada contra los obesos pero jamás me veía a mi mismo siendo uno, y no le desearía a alguien que empeore su salud, así que como siempre guarde mis comentarios con todos, no quería hablar con nadie de aquí, me sentía inseguro. El solo bajó de peso y porcentaje de masa grasa ahora tenía 106 kilos con 33% de grasa, quizá también se sumó algo de músculo más no sabría decirte dónde. Kevin era un enigma al igual que yo, no tuvimos cambio aparentemente, recordé lo de sus zapatos pero no parecía llevar pares grandes la verdad no sé por qué pregunto. Aunque una cosa estaba clara, los pantaloncillos que llevaba no dejaron mucho a la imaginación, mirando disimuladamente parecía que se guardó un plátano en su entrepierna y no estaba duro; admito que me sonroje un poco al ver eso, trate de pensar en otra cosa mientras me tomaban medidas. ¿Habrá querido hacer referencia a algo con los zapatos? Confirme mis sospechas no hubo cambios aparentes como con Kevin. -disculpa Trevor, ¿puedo hacer mención de unos efectos secundarios? -adelante, todo lo que me puedas decir servirá para monitorear tus cambios. -eh tenido pesadillas toda la semana, me a costado dormir y siempre tengo el mismo sueño atrapada en una habitación oscura con alguien detrás de mi. El no contestó, se veía preocupado y voltio solo con la mirada a Kevin para rápido volver a mi. -bueno… pesadillas así de específicas es un tanto curioso, ¿Estás seguro de que todo está bien acá arriba?-se da unos toques con el dedo índice en la cabeza- -si todo está bien, entiendo que algunas medicinas puedan dar pesadillas, yo mismo de niño eh sido muy enfermizo. -si siguen después de la segunda inyección, llama de inmediato ¿Si? El me da una tarjeta y me mira fijamente aún serio, la tomé y ya después de la inyección me largue a casa pensando todo el día sobre eso último… preocupación de algo. Lunes por la tarde hora del gym. Después del trabajo y si aún tenía energía pasaba por el gym pasando mi departamento y derecho por la misma calle, así podía cambiarme de ropa a gusto. Hoy le tocaba cardio así que estaría un buen tiempo en el gym, el otro lunes no había visto a Erick o a Jack ahí mismo, quizá solo fue una coincidencia… estaba equivocado; ahí estaba Jack haciendo alarde con una pequeña multitud de personas observando como ya estaba levantando más de 150 libras en la barra, era impresionante para la pinta que daba de ser más atlético o eso parecía una semana antes, poco a poco se estaba transformando en un culturista, todo ese peso lo decía a gritos al igual que los ríos de sudor que cubrían su frente; me subí a una caminadora viéndolo de lejos, pero en eso llega Erick. -vaya vaya… si es Jack el corredor de quinta. Jack para las repeticiones y se levanta a verlo, limpiando sé el sudor y tomando un gran trago de agua dice. -Erick… pensé que ibas al gym Big Bull, es más para viejos que solo quieren mantenerse.- sonríe al oír eso y da la misma mirada desafiante, Jack le contesta igual. -veras novato, puede que ya te creas mucho solo por ya recibir un impulso de fuerza y ver crecimiento rápido, pero eso no te hace un alfa… Aún soy más grande que tú y la ley del gym lo indica claro, los grandes son respetados por los pequeños. Ese ego… no estaba antes o no lo percibía así, quizá y recibió otra gran bendición ahí abajo, de hecho ya había un bulto visible desde aquí. -Entonces si me vuelvo más grande, tu tendrás que darme respetos a mí ¿O me equivoco? -lo dije claro y fuerte. Y es cierto que estás creciendo pero veamos que tanto le ganas a la memoria muscular, yo llegué a tener un peso en mis mejores días 156 kilos de puro músculo, me descuide por una rodilla dislocada. Jack al oír eso se le abren más los ojos, si hubiera estado más cerca, quizá pudiera ver visto que se le eriza la piel; más no se dejó impresionar tanto tiempo y volvió a retomar su postura, sonriendo. -¿Por qué no resolvemos esto de la manera justa, quien llega a ser más grande el próximo mes?, cuando se acabe nuestro pequeño experimento… -me parece bien chico, ahora sí me disculpas. Erick tomó la barra con la que estaba trabajando Jack con las dos manos y la elevó con facilidad sobre su cabeza. -no eres el único con súper fuerza…-guiño. Después de eso, Jack siguió con su entrenamiento pero en otra máquina para pecho, Erick se robó el público de Jack y terminó por hacer una rutina de brazos, no pude ver qué peso llevaba pero a de ser 90 libras o más en cada mano. Ya un rato después iba a las duchas, las mismas de siempre; al salir me percató que ya iba a entrar en la ducha dónde estaba yo, Erick. Por suerte ya llevaba una toalla y las vendas para cubrir mis pechos. -hey, eres el chico del laboratorio… ¿Alex? -e-eh si… soy yo Alex, tu eres Erick si te reconozco. -no pensé encontrarte en el mismo gym y… menos en las duchas.-el baja la mirada a mi pecho y se percata de las vendas.- ¿paso algo? -oh… bueno solo una heri… En eso nos interrumpe Jack jalando el hombro de Erick, el chico estaba totalmente desnudo frente a nosotros él había venido de las otras duchas aún sudado mostrando cada músculo que desarrolló en pocos días, unas venas gruesas ya recorrían sus bíceps y se ratificaba en sus brazos hasta llegar a la mano, sus hombros eran grandes pero aún le faltaban trabajar más, era recompensado con grandes pectorales que ya estaban haciendo que sus pezones apunten al suelo, su cuello también se había engrosado firme y fuerte como el de un caballo, sus abdominales magníficos como ayer domingo, sus piernas también estaban muy desarrolladas casi del tamaño de mi cintura, ya dificultando el caminar bien, sus pantorrillas se habían ajustado y equilibrado con sus piernas grandes y con unas venas notorias sobre todo a lo que es su polla, trate de no ver pero era imposible no notar que tenía ahí una verga monstruosa, quizá no tan ancha pero sí muy larga, diría que 28 cm con unas bolas del tamaño de huevos de gallina, y unos pies grandes, talla 11 y medio era absurdo para la altura que tenía, aunque quizá iba para más y solo esta esperando el estirón. -vaya si es Erick y Alex juntos, ¿acaso ibas a presumir más que lo que tienes? -solo hablábamos, vete si no quieres que te de un buen puñetazo… -¿crees que me asustas? pude notar algo distinto en ti, algo que no se notaba a simple vista pero algo cambió, supongo que tenías algo que ocultarme.- Jack sonríe al ver el cambio de expresión en los ojos de Erick, creo que se dio cuenta de algún modo. -¿Hablas de mi fuerza? o ¿de mi pecho peludo?-posa levantando su brazo izquierdo notoriamente más grande que jack, aun… Ojala se quedaran ahí las cosas, que solo presumiendo y ya, pero fue a peor cuando jack le dio un golpe directo en su cara a Erick. no lo derribó pero si lo desoriento un poco, recuperando su equilibrio le da un golpe directo al hígado a Jack, perdió el aire un momento pero el le quito la toalla de la cintura revelando más que sus piernas, su polla no es tan grande como la de jack pero ya no era la pena que era antes, era un buen promedio de 15 cm duro y muy gruesa sobretodo en la punta, esa verga si era de un hombre maduro. -creo que yo soy más grande que eso…-Jack mete el pie por detrás de erick y lo empuja desde los hombros haciéndolo caer del suelo para luego jack poner su pie enorme sobre el pecho de Erick, casi le lame los dedos de los pies. -hey… ¡quítate de encima! -solo reclamo mi derecho como el más grande~ Jack sostiene los brazos de Erick con toda sus fuerzas, estaban muy igualados pero la posición le jugaba un mal momento al viejo Alfa, Jack lo obliga a abrir las piernas y con escupitajo de buen vaquero a su polla está listo para penetrarlo, Erick trata de liberarse como sea posible pero solo lo empeora al tratar de correr gateando, jack lo penetra en ese momento sin piedad, ya nada importaba para esos dos en este momento, era un fantasma expectante ante el cambio de poder de alfas, no se si tener miedo o masturbarme en ese momento de contemplación al ver un jovencito follar a un adulto. salían gritos de ambos, jack se sostiene con fuerza de sus hombres y pecho para que no se fuera tan fácilmente, no se sabía otras posiciones por lo cual solo lo follo duro hasta que se viniera dentro de él, Erick con clara sonrojes y la polla dura chorrean te aprovechó que el joven estaba cansado para darle un golpe en la barbilla y noquearlo para que lo dejara en paz, pero ya era demasiado tarde, perdió la virginidad de su culo con un chico “pequeño”. Erick tomó sus cosas, se puso sus pantalones y se fue lo más rápido que pudo, y jack seguía inconsciente, no se que tanto permaneció ahí pues también huí al ya romperse la tensión del momento. ¡Maldito Lunes!
  15. Cuerpo de demonio cap 2 pesadillas y cambios //Un pequeño inciso, para los que no leyeron la primera parte aquí les dejo el link, hice un error de novato al publicar la idea de esta historia y públicar ahí mismo la historia, lo are separado y esperar a ver qué les gusta e ir construyendo la historia. En esa misma noche del martes, nos habíamos acostado temprano Owen y yo, aunque tenía ganas para algo hoy, él tuvo un día pesado en el trabajo, él es soldador así se mantiene en forma trabajando con metales pesados cuando no iba al gym. No pude dormir bien esa noche como había dicho el profesor Trevor; tenía demasiada energía aún y mi mente no se calmaba, sentía que alguien me hablaba pero no llegaba a entender bien. Me obligue a dormir pero tarde mucho en ya calmar mi cuerpo y mente, y surgió una pesadilla, les estoy contando esto ya una semana después, habían pasado muchos cambios más la pesadilla era la misma cada noche; estaba en un cuarto oscuro, las paredes estaban difuminadas y pintadas en negro con orillas finas blancas que apenas se notaban, no había techo sólo un vortice como de humo blanco que era aspirado hacia acá detrás de estas paredes, el suelo era una fina capa de agua dándome mi reflejo y alguien más detrás de mí, no podía distinguir su forma más aya de ser humanoide, una sombra de lo que es con ojos rojos y pareciera ser muy grande, escuchaba una vez más ese lenguaje incomprensible más fuerte, y cuando trato de voltear detrás de mí para ver quién es solo despierto en mi cuarto sudando frío. Me despertaba siempre una hora antes que Owen, no dormí todas mis horas pero jamás me sentí cansado o con ojeras. Durante la semana también sucedieron cosas extrañas, ¿no te pasa que cuando conoces una persona en algo que no necesariamente tenemos que interactuar pero tu mente ya la enfoca en la multitud de la gente o por la calle? Pues eso pasó con los 4 participantes, durante la semana me los encontré de uno a uno y me hablaron de sus experiencias con el suero, aunque nadie había tenido pesadillas más que yo. Fred fue el primero a quien encontré, a lado del hotel donde trabajó había un McDonald's y siempre me quedaba de paso caminando al trabajo, ahí lo encontré sentado en la ventana próxima a la entrada con por lo menos 3 hamburguesa listas para comer, quería evitarlo un poco pues soy más de llegar puntual aunque parece ser que también se dió cuenta de mi y tocó el cristal para llamar mi atención, ya por no ser grosero pues entre a hablar con él; me dijo que ya sentía un leve cambio tras dos días de la inyección, se sentía con menos hambre, había comida mucho menos que lo habitual para él y solo comía mucho en la mañana para luego sentirse algo… caliente en general, creo que fue muy sincero y específico al mencionar que vio más paguínas porno y cuáles vió, el es hetero y dice que su gusto cambio un poco, que le gustaban chicas con grandes traceros a chicas más definidas no solo de su parte de atrás. Simplemente inventé una excusa para salir, no quería imaginarme que hizo para ayar su polla y que hizo. Al otro día en el gym me encontré a dos realmente, Jack y Erick en mi gym a casi la misma hora; Jack si se me hacía familiar, es un adolescente que quiso entrar al gym para poder defenderse de sus matones y tuvo grandes resultados creo que le gustó levantar pesas y ya tiene unos 2 años aquí. Está vez yo me acerque a verlo, no hablamos mucho sólo me dijo que le dolía mucho su cuerpo sobretodo los músculos, como si hubiera hecho una semana entera de peso pesando en todo su cuerpo todo en un solo día, al tercero también de la inyección. Aunque de estadísticas no había cambiado mucho, levantaba una gran cantidad de peso 85 libras de puro calentamiento para bicep, su fuerza había aumentado considerablemente. Erik por otra parte, no hable con él, más bien lo ví en las duchas cuando ya estaba por irme, yo voy a unas duchas más privadas pues las otras solo se separaba de uno del otro por dos láminas de cristal. Él también estaba a punto de meterse a esas duchas privadas, sólo había 3, lo ví desde lejos entrar sin mucha confianza tratando de tapar su entrepierna, aunque pude ver qué era pequeña desde aquí no me dió mucho tiempo de verla bien a detalle, ahora sabía por qué fué a las pruebas y por qué se bañaba aquí; ya iba a entrar también en las duchas hasta que ví el cuaderno que nos dió Trevor, estaba ya abierto con algunas mediciones, me picó mucho la curiosidad y leí que ponía, él mismo había sacado sus mismas medidas las cuales eran iguales a las del laboratorio, pero había dos más las de sus bolas y polla había comparado sus pelotas a las de un limón pequeño y su polla específica que mide solo 9.7 cm de largo totalmente dura, con 10 cm de grosor, y 4 cm flácida, la verdad esperaba más pero no sé acababa ahí pues los datos también se actualizaron 3 días después llegando a 12.3 cm de largo, 10.5 cm de grosor y 5 flácida, algo definitivamente había cambiado no sé si por el suero pero dejo una carita sonriente al final de las medidas. Kevin descubrí que era un vecino mío de departamento, él estaba en el piso 5 y yo en el 3, no hablamos mucho de cambios y así aunque me dijo que si hubo cambios no me dijo cuáles y solo me dejó en la duda. -por cierto Alex, ¿sabes si de casualidad hay otra tienda de calzado por aquí? -hay una a unas cuadras de donde trabajó aunque está un poco lejos, pero también hay una doblando la esquina a la izquierda, ¿no la viste? - sí y veo por qué se te hace extraño que pregunte, pero es que no tienen de mi talla. - entiendo, bueno iré a mi departamento, nos vemos después. Nos despedimos y de reojo ví que salía del edificio con sandalias, no se veía tampoco fuera de lugar, quizá buscá otro tipo de zapato y no es su cambio. ya le había pagado a Martha lo que le debía, me quedé sin un centavo en el bolsillo pero ya estaba tranquilo de no tener deudas hasta el otro mes que no paguemos. Yo por otro lado aparte de las pesadillas cada noche, solo se retrasó mi mes está semana tocaba pero no salió nada, me preocupa que quizá sea un embarazo aunque tengo fé que realmente este es el cambio que debía pasar conmigo, me are una prueba de todas formas.
  16. kibo

    [Español] cuerpo de demonio

    Hola, será mi primera historia para esta gran comunidad, llevo ya tiempo aquí leyendo ideas fantásticas y qusiera yo contribuiré algo para los demás. ya está el primer capítulo, más abajo. Disfruten ;3 Está historia va a estar 100% en español, mi inglés es pésimo pero tienen todo el derecho de traducir a inglés u otros idiomas. Se qué las etiquetas son muy raras, no eh visto mucho de posesión ni de cambios de sexo, por eso quisiera ver qué les parece la idea y así comenzará el proyecto de escribirla. El contexto sería sobre un chico trans que al probar más hormonas no le sienta muy bien y desee intentar otro método para tener el cuerpo que siempre se identificó y más, conquistando el amor de sus sueños por el camino y complaciendo sus fetiches. Más sin embargo hay consecuencias y tendrán que luchar por ello. No planeo muchos capítulos, que sea cortó pero si la gente le gusta, me animo a escribir más. Pospatata xb no veo el apartado de ideas de historias, si pueden mover ésto o decirme qué paso o dónde está los agradecería, uso celular para esto.
  17. Guest

    The locker room loser

    Inspired by a story I've read recently, a short story found its way from my pen to this board. Enjoy! Keith strutted into the deserted gym next to Orchid University. He loved working out late at night, jumping to whatever exercise he felt doing and not having to wait at any of the machines. Not that other guys made him wait. His 6'3 and 242 pound frame not only earned him success on the football field, it also intimidated anyone that got in his way. Not to mention the attention of the girls… He continued past the deserted counter and entered the locker room. He put his bag on a bench and began getting out his shake and towel. "Hi, Keith". The faint voice made Keith turn around and he stared down at the skinny guy that had just entered. He recognized Tyrone, some skinny freshman who worked in the gym. He nodded and returned to his stuff. "What are you training tonight?", the little guy asked, "Or just a quick workout for football?". Great. A talker, just what I need. Why do guys that wanna talk don't go to bars?, Keith thought as he tried to ignore the guy. "Not in a mood to talk? Focused on training, he?", Tyrone went on. Keith turned to face the guy with an annoyed look on his face. He noticed how the shirt hung like a tent on the freshman's pathetic body and how his shorts covered his legs almost completely. He unzipped his hoody and took it off, revealing his heavily muscled torso highlighted by his skintight tank top. Tyrone gulped at the sight of the round shoulders that stuck out like bowling balls to support the thick arms. A smug grin formed on Keith's face at the small guy's reaction. "Training builds muscle. Ya should try it", he said and casually bounced his pecs. "Tough guy, he", Tyrone replied, "Want to test your strength?". He motioned to a weird machine placed at the end of the row of lockers. It was some old-looking grip strength tester. It had an electronic display in the center and below there were four metal handles. "Ya want to go up against me? In a test of strength?", Keith asked laughingly and throw a double bicep pose. His meaty arms swelled to their 20 inches of muscle covered with some fat. "Just for fun", Tyrone said without taking his eyes from the orbs atop the large guy's arms as he moved to the machine. Keith shook his head incredulously and stepped over to the machine, completely dwarfing the freshman. They both grabbed hold of two handles. "Who's the alpha and who's the beta?" The display read off as it sprang to life. "I'll go first", Tyrone said and squeezed the handles with all his might. His 120 body shook and his face turned red from the effort. "POWERHOUSE", the display said. Keith followed. He gripped the handles firmly and clenched his thick fist, his body barely feeling the effort. "POWERHOUSE", the display said, "TIE!" "Seems like were matched", Tyrone peeped, "Let's try again". He repeated his earlier movement, getting another 'POWERHOUSE' reading. Keith couldn't believe this pathetic guy was matching his power. His competitive nature took over and he pressed the handles again. "MUSCLE MAN", the display showed, "Advantage to player one! Next round!". "Not so tough after all, it seems", Tyrone said and continued the game to get another "POWERHOUSE" reading. "What the fuck?!", Keith boomed, "This game is rigged". He summoned his strength, his knuckles turning white as he grabbed the handles. "MANLY", the display showed. Black dots danced shortly before Keith's eyes and a shiver traveled down his spine as he read off the text. "How…", he began and the other words died in his throat as he looked down at his body. His torso no longer strained his tank top. The fabric now sat more loosely around his somehow diminished muscles. He didn't stand out like the heavily muscled guy he used to be, but looked more like someone who worked out regularly. He glanced aside and noticed the other change: the once skinny Tyrone was now filling out the shirt that hung on him like a tent minutes earlier. The guy could now easily pass for a model. "My turn again", Tyrone said in a deepened voice. "No. I give", Keith said and tried releasing the handles but his paws seemed somehow fused to them. "We have to continue the game until there's an alpha", Tyrone said and applied his strength to the handles. "POWERHOUSE!", the display said. Keith gulped as he saw a jolt shoot through the freshman's body. He reluctantly copied his opponent's grab, noticing how the handles seemed to resist. He stared in disbelief at the display as it read "Mr. PUNY". Tyrone looked aside and saw more mass disappear from the football player's body. Their bodies were pretty evenly matched now. "Oh yeah", he grunted as he felt the energy flowing through the handles into his growing body. He grabbed the handles again, now easily pressing into the metal. "POWERHOUSE!!" "Why are there exclamation marks on it?", Keith asked in his weakened voice while he saw another jolt of growth shoot through the now pumped up fitness model-sized freshman that began looking bigger than him. "There's more power in my body now", Tyrone replied in a baritone voice, "your turn". "Do I have to?", Keith muttered. "DO IT!", Tyrone boomed. Keith shook and instinctively obeyed the bigger man. His body shook with effort and his face turned beat red. "WEAKLING" Keith felt another wave of weakness dance through him. His once skintight tank top now hung loosely from his diminished frame. He felt his sweatpants slide down along his thinning legs. He looked down and saw that he had lost every ounce of muscle he'd ever gained. The movement next to him caught his eye. Tyrone saw the mass siphon away from the football player's body and pass through the machine into him. His formerly baggy shirt now clung to his beefed up torso: his swelling pecs pulled the fabric forward while his thickening back pushed the fabric backward and his broadening lats put more and more tension on the seams. The sleeves that used to cover most of his arms didn't even cover his upper arms anymore: his widening shoulders pulled the fabric up to showcase his meaty arms. His baggy shorts now came only halfway on his thick quads. Keith gulped as he had to look up to catch the freshman's eye. The guy now looked like an amateur heavyweight bodybuilder. "Please", he pleaded in an unfamiliar higher voice, "no more. I can't get smaller". Tyrone just smirked and effortlessly tightened his grip around the metal handles, making the machine shake from his force. "POWERHOUSE!!!!!" Keith blinked in disbelief at the display. He refused to look aside as the shadow of the freshman grew and he heard the tearing sound of the ripping fabric. He knew he had no other option than to continue the game. He grunted as he summoned every ounce of force in his weakened body. The handles seemed to resist his grip. "PATHETIC" The letters on the display appeared to turn blurry and a wave of fatigue flowed through Keith. He could feel more size escaped his body and his boxers that used to showcase his meaty ass and lengthy cock fell to the ground. "CALCULATING SCORE", the display showed, "Player two… = BETA BOY!" Keith fell the last ounce of masculinity vanish from him. He felt his balls shrivel to the size of small marbles and pull closer to his body. His cock, once his 10 inches of pride followed this lead: it shrunk to a pencil-thin 2 incher. A ringing sound made him look back at the machine. "Player one", the display said, "… = TOTAL ALPHA!!!!!" "YEAUGH", Tyrone groaned as a final, yet very powerful surge shot through his huge frame. His tight, already ripped shirt exploded into shreds as his huge muscles grew to another level of thickness. A loud snapping sound followed as his shorts and boxers gave in under the pressure of his thickening waist. His head shot up as more height was added to his frame. He grunted as he felt the energy shot into his groin. His balls swelled to the size of lemons and sank lower in between his meaty quads and his 7 incher amassed girth and length, snaking further down against his leg. Without looking at the drained football player, he swaggered over to the mirror on the other side of the locker room. He ripped away the last remains of his destroyed shirt and stared at his nude reflection. "FUARK", Tyrone bellowed, his eyes widening in disbelief at the image of perfection staring back at him. He scanned every inch of his now beastly physique before beginning to explore his new body. His paws groped the protruding rack that hung from his chest, clawing at the hard meat of the half watermelon-sized pecs and testing the weight of meaty slabs; they slid down onto a stony eight-pack made of cobblestones separated by deep grooves. He licked his lips while taking in the size of his perfectly round shoulders that outsized bowling balls and the insane size of the monster arms that hung from them: the muscle on his upper arms twitched underneath the paper-thin skin and seemed ready to explode from it; his lower arms were crisscrossed with cable-sized cords of muscle. His lower body was just as impressive: his quads rivaled young trees in size; they were jam-packed with hard beef that eclipsed his kneecaps; his calves were bigger than most guys quads. He was about to grope the lengthy snake as a faint movement caught his attention. Keith had ignored the giant freshman, knowing he was no match for the guy now. While Tyrone went to inspect his new physique in front of the mirror, the diminished athlete made his move. He slowly released the handles he was still groping, pulled up his now baggy boxers and equally large sweatpants and kept his hand on them to prevent them from falling off again. He cautiously stepped to the door, making sure not to attract the freshman's attention. He grabbed the door handle and tried pushing it down. The door didn't move. He tried again, applying more force this time. "I locked it earlier when I came in". The deep rumbling bass filled the locker room like thunder and vibrated down Keith's weak body. His hand was frozen to the door handle. He heard the heavy footsteps and the large shadow grew on the door as the giant freshman came to him. A paw grabbed his armpit and dragged him in front of the mirror. He glanced up at his reflection and gasped: the ridiculously large clothes hung from his emaciated body and made him look like a kid who had put on his bigger brother's clothes. He peeped as the paw ripped away the clothes and exposed him completely. Tears welled up in his eyes: he looked like a weak boy instead off the hulking athlete he had been minutes earlier. Every trace of muscle that had once highlighted his physique, was gone. The layer of fat that used to give him a bulky appearance now made him look pudgy ad childlike. The beefy football player that dominated the team had been replaced by a meager boyish figure. He couldn't even remember having ever been this small. His 5'1, 105 pound body made him weak and puny by any standard. "Turn around!" The booming command made Keith jump up and he quickly did as he was told. He looked straight at the top row of the most deeply grooved set of abs he'd ever seen. He tilted his head up to stare at the face and instinctively took a step backward as his mind processed the size of the beastly freshman in front of him. The now 6'6, 330 pound Tyrone dwarfed him unlike anything he'd ever done to other guys. His own 242 pound body had been bulky and massive, but the giant freshman didn't seem to have an ounce of fat on him: deep grooves, striations and veins edged along the hulking mass of his hard muscles that pushed against his skin. His square face, shadowed by a five o'clock beard sat atop an insanely thick neck that flowed into a broad line capped with boulder-like shoulders. Striations were visible through the thin skin stretched across the perfectly round delts. A thick vein snaked over the shoulders down on the ham-sized arms and branched off in dozens of smaller veins to feed the huge biceps at the front and the thick triceps that jutted out from the back. The beastly freshman outsized even elite superheavyweight bodybuilders. He looked like an anatomy chart that had come to live and was perfectly proportioned, except for his arms that seemed just a tad too big. Masculinity seemed to ooze from him and hang in the air like electricity around his hulking frame. Tyrone moved in front of the mirror and threw a most muscular. "FUARK", he roared as his muscles exploded in a symphony of harness, striations and veins across his body, "seems like there's a Tyrex in town". The faint 'wow' made him turn his attention back to the former athlete next to him. A smug grin formed on his face as he noted the awe in the frail guy's eyes. "Yo Keith", he said and brought his right arm up in front of his torso and flexed it, 'BADABOOM". Keith's eyes widened while the bicep in front of him exploded in size. The orb of hard meat sprang upward and outward into a pineapple-sized muscle choked in veins. The bicep swelled and hardened some more as the beastly freshman tightened his flex fully, stopping just below 30 inches of pure muscle. The sight of the massive arm hardening inches from his face made Keith's cock race to hardness and spew out a small, watery load that dribbled from the 2 incher. Tyrone noticed the fallen athlete's reaction and felt a jolt go through his own cock while he realized he totally dominated the small guy. He relaxed his right arm, placed his paw atop the guy's bony shoulder and pushed him down. Keith was forced to his knees by the paw that covered his shoulder, upper arm and half of his flat chest. He looked forward and stared straight at the fleshy snake that was lengthening along the thick quad and began rising upward. Within seconds the 14 inch cock was at full length, veins running along the thick shaft and the purple red head pointed directly at his face. He looked up but he couldn't see the freshman's face: the protruding rack of pecs hide it from his view. "Please…", he pleaded but a large paw grabbed the back of his head and the snake was rammed into his mouth. Tyrone grinned as he felt the small guy's hand tug at his right arm that held his head in place. His thick forearms easily withstood the tugging. He pushed more of his cock into the hot mouth. Keith gagged as 10 inches of the fleshy snake filled his mouth. He ceased his clawing and placed his frail hands atop the beastly quads for support as the beastly freshman began pumping in and out his mouth. His vision was filled with the cobblestone-sized abs that flexed on the rhythm of the thrusts. "YEAUGHN", Tyrone roared as ecstasy exploded through his 330 pound body. His lemon-sized balls drew tight and began releasing their thick load into the fallen athlete's mouth. Keith quickly gulped down the first huge load, a second one filling his mouth seconds later. He sucked down as much of the sticky spunk as fast as he could, but the hefty balls kept blasting out loads. Cum began flowing from the corners of his mouth and even from his nose. His vision began going dark by the lack of oxygen. After 10 loads, the snake withdrew from his mouth and blasted a final load onto his face, coating it with liquid heat. The paw released his head and he slumped down to the floor. Tyrone turned his gaze back to his reflection in the mirror. He flexed his left arm, smirking as the huge muscle exploded into a massive orb of vein-covered beef. He would have sworn he heard his skin stretch tight as the monster bicep swelled to its new size. He went over to Keith's gym bag and grabbed his hoody. He ripped off the sleeves and put it on. The zipper could only close over his eight-pack, his pecs protruded so far from his chest that it was impossible to get the zipper up any further. He grabbed a pair of baggy sweatpants from another locker and pulled them on: they fight like a second skin over his gargantuan legs. He threw a final look on the emaciated senior lying on the floor and left.
  18. Thedemon1906

    My gigant roomate pt3

    Marcos had just woke up. He was lying on his bed confused. He felt the heat of the huge body next to his own. This was the first time he woke up and John was still there… sleeping. Slowly he turned his head and faced the back of the giant. His right hand touched the hard wall of muscle that was his back. It was twice as big as his and huge amounts if power surged from it. John's body wasn't covered by any blanket and by any clothes. For Marcos (that after all is a straight man) it was a beautiful sight, a kind of admiration someone has to a well done painting or a gorgeous statue. An aesthetic appreciation, but Marcos was starting to feel something else that he couldn't quite figure out. Marcos took out his hand and continued to look at the giant. His eyes wondered through John's entire body. He already knew his roommate was tall, but seeing himself side by side to the giant it made him feel small. -Are you going to take shower?- Marcos felt the bed bend as John turned around his massive body. When he finished the little guy was facing to monstrous pecs twice as big as his hands. - Yes… why?- His eyes and John's met when he said that. The little guy had forgotten how gorgeous he was. -I have to take a shower too- he said quite demanding -well… but i have to get to school and- John grabbed Marcos’ right hand and his left arm and pinned him down. He put himself on top with only one meter between the two. Marcos was surprised by the move, he now had the giant on top of him, completely dominating him. He could see his gigantic arms tensed keeping his body up but that wasn't the weirdest thing. John moved forward closing the gap between him and his submissive friend. Marcos could feel the one feet cock of the muscle beast pressing his abdomen. ------------------------------------------------------------ Marcos could hear the running shower as he got undressed. His body had changed the last few weeks. He had gotten much leaner maybe with a little bit less muscle. He had an athletic body thought. Perfect cut muscle with thin arms like the ones you see in models. But his bulging physique had disappeared as all of his body hair. All is all, it would seem like he shaved all of it away. Although all of these changes are really noticeable the most prominent feature of his body was now his ass. A perfect bubble butt with round gorgeous cheeks. His pants now stretched obscenely every time he walked and the street. He opened the shower curtain revealing John's body at its peak. Water runned through his huge muscle and 8pack. To his lemon size balls and tree trunk legs. Marcos got in the shower pressing himself to the giant's abdomen. -this thing is getting huge- the rumble of his low voice made everything trembl as his huge manly hands grabbed Marcos’ ass. His hands ,that were as big as the little guy's cheeks, pulled up the small body without effort till the two of them were face to face. - You need to learn to obey- Marcos felt a thick finger enter his ass and he grabbed to John's shoulders for support. - You are my tiny bitch- as Marcos cummed all over his roommate a little smile appeared in John's face.
  19. anonymous90

    The “Ex” Factor

    ((I kinda figured I’d break the recent stagnation, aside from the last story from a day or so ago by jkmuscle, by posting a little revised rp I did with a friend off the forums not too long ago. If you’re reading this, it means a lot more to me than you think, haha. Hope you guys enjoy) It’s been weeks since I’ve gotten laid, and I’m really excited for what my boyfriend has in store for me. Warlocks having love affairs with demons was common, but hardly lasted. Our affair had been on-again off-again for ages, and it showed. He’d been messaging me all day about a surpirse waiting for me at his place, and I was impossibly eager to see what he’d gotten me for this special occasion. The lights are dim, and the room is warm and humid. An otter-ish twink lay sprawled across my bed, brown hair tousled from a quick shower, water droplets lingering on his chest, His face lit by the screen of his phone, waiting for a response from “me”. “Meet me at my apartment, I’ve got something fun planned for you tonight.” was the message I’d received after just having left my gym session with Brett. His brows furrow, not yet having noticed me in the room, apparently worried that “I” might be bailing on him, before he looks up, eyes alight with lust and mischief. His face goes from lust to shock quickly upon realizing the figure entering the room is too tall to possibly be me. “Ah, I guess you’re the present.” I say, locking my phone, and the door behind be as I step all the way inside. Fitting that my dip back into his world ends up being one of his exes. Fine by me, I could use a quick meal. A few more steps bring me far enough into the low light from the bedside table to make out more details. I’m wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung sweatpants, and my body is coated with a light sheen of sweat from the gym. I smile with intent and cross my arms over my chest, surveying the other man with a dark hunger. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” I murmur. “I think this is going to be fun.” “You’re not Troy, what the hell is this?” He stammers, sitting up, his boner plumping at the sight of a taller, stronger man. “No, I’m not.” I saunter closer, towering over the twink from his position on the bed, and rove my eyes over him appraisingly. “I wonder if you even know who I am...?” I murmur, absentmindedly raking a hand through my hair, flexing the pumped up muscles in my torso as I do. “I’ve heard about you, though. Heard you’re a big dick...or, hm...” I chuckle, leaning onto the bed and bracing an arm on each side of the guy before correcting myself: “that you are one. It’s one of those, I think.” “What’s it to you?” He gulps, the dick in question dribbling pre down his lightly muscled stomach. “Simple.” I hum quietly and lean into his ear, moving a hand up his thigh before murmuring, “I want it. So I’m going to take it. And if you have a problem with that...” I chuckle darkly and squeeze his thigh as I pull back to meet his eyes, mine flashing with promise. “Then you’ll have to stop me.” “What...” his breath catches as my hand grips his hardened shaft, silencing his qualms. My breath teases his length as I get closer, his heartbeat racing with anticipation. “Good.” I hum again, flashing eyes full of dark intent up at him before taking the tip of his cock into my mouth, sucking and laving my tongue over the head, hand squeezing a slow rhythm against his member. “So now...I’m going to take it. Inch by inch.” I place a hand against his stomach and take him into my throat, only mouthing at the first few inches, and as I do he starts to feel sensation in his cock growing unbearably strong, the suction almost painful—like he’s already come, and I’m forcing him through a torturous post-orgasm. After a minute that to him feels far longer, I come off of his cock with a self-satisfied grin—and coming off seems to reveal a bit less than there was before. “That’s one.” Before he can react I take him again, moving further down now that there’s less to take. He can’t help but mewl and knit his hands into my hair, hips lifting off the bed in little abortive movements like he can’t decide whether he wants more or less. The sensation grows only more intense, the mixture more pain than pleasure by the second, and every touch of my tongue against him feels like fire burning into his skin. Finally I come up again, tracing a teasing tongue up his shaft, smiling at the wince it produces before I look up at him with a challenging smirk. “And that’s two. If I’ve heard right...think that puts you at seven.” Now that he’s more manageable I continue more aggressively, grabbing him at each thigh and pulling him up into me, taking the whole length of him into my throat. He cries out at the feeling of it, the painful heat surrounding him, his hips jerking spasmodically at the overload of sensation. A half a minute of that later, and a few swipes of my tongue across his length cause him to shout, hands tightening in my hair as I pull him into me hard, taking him as deep as possible as his cock pulses its load into my throat. When he’s done, I finally release him to fall gasping on the bed as I wipe at my mouth. “Three. Welcome to average.” “What are you talking...?” He looks down, horrified, to see his dick at a much more modest 6 inches. “What the hell did you do?! Give it back!” He tries to argue, but your rather imposing frame makes for a lot of hesitation. He looks at my sweats, thinking blindly that he can still save this, still reverse everything back to normal...but upon taking me in his mouth, he hears a condescending chuckle. I let him have his way, giving him a few minutes to do what he will. His awkward attempt at getting me off is only compounded my the slight size increase I’ve gotten over the past few minutes, and at this point he’s having a hard time negotiating my girth in a comfortable way. When he seems to be taking a moment to figure out what to do next, I place a hand on his head. “Fine, you want a turn? Be my guest.” I slowly start to push him down, forcing him to take more and more of me, causing him to stretch his mouth uncomfortably wide. “I’ll...” I chuckle. “Give you some help.” His eyes begin to water, and he weakly pushes at my hands as I force myself further into his throat. “Breath through your nose,” I suggest through a suppressed moan. “Unless you want to literally choke on my dick. Which...you’d deserve.” I finally bottom out in his throat, and he moans around my length, occasionally gagging and trying to choke, but unable to around the cock filling him. “Now be good, and you’ll get what you wanted.” I hold his head still and begin to fuck into his throat, his nostrils flaring as he tries to get enough air, his hands limply falling to his sides as he accepts his fate. “Hmm, see? Is it everything you wanted?” I card a hand through his hair, prompting him to look up at me through teary eyes. A blast of salty sweet cum rockets down his throat, and I give him no choice but to swallow it all. “It might not be as sweet as yours, but...hehe, it’s certainly a nice mouthful, hmm?” After gagging to near death, trying his best to regain his breath, he pulls off, noting that I don’t seem to have gone down at all. However, a gnawing, growing pit in his stomach does not let him enjoy peace for long. With a loud groan from his stomach, he shivers, a cold chill going down his spine. “Feeling a tingle, huh?” I push him down onto his back and straddle him, my cock laying heavy across his stomach. “Too bad for you, this is a one-way street. You took a gamble,” I lean in and squeeze at his cock, “and the house always wins.” The sensation at his cock coupled with the gnawing hunger in his stomach makes him moan, and he feels that sensitivity spreading up into his torso. At the same time, he notices that in the position I’m in, he can see my abs becoming more defined by the second. I run a hand over the deepening grooves there, shifting my torso back and forth to flex my abs and smiling down at him. “Thanks for your...generous donation.” “Even more unfortunately for you, though,” I say with an exaggerated sigh, “You’ve basically given me your credit card information. So you’re gonna keep donating.” The tingling spreads further into his body, rising up into his chest and arms, down into his legs, any sensation becoming unbearable—such as the light fingertips tracing across his chest and teasing across nipples that scream with sensation at every touch. “Until I’m done with you.” My torso defines and shapes up, chest straining against the skin, abs tight and defined, biceps rippling and swelling with every movement. “And I’m inclined to take just about everything you’ve got.” His stomach groans as more and more size and virility is drawn from the point of contact, trying in vain to absorb my seed. “Fuck!” He moans out in torment, clutching his gut as more and more of him is repurposed. I keep roving my hands over his painfully-sensitive body, even as it continues to seemingly hollow itself out, muscle and shape gradually lessening, leaving him looking so skinny he almost seems emancipated, a dick no more than two inches hard dangling meekly between his legs, but still writhing in a near-delirious height of pleasure and pain, crying out even at the heat and weight of my cock pulsing against his torso. “Hm. There.” I get off him and towel myself off with my discarded sweatpants before throwing them on top of him. “Consider your debts paid. I’m gonna go use all this on someone who deserves it.”
  20. Guest

    Setting Things Right - Part 2

    First Part here. Conclusion to the first part. Hope you enjoy it My arms tensed, my teeth clenched and sweat dripped from my forehead down to my face. An anger swept over me like never before. An anger that could only be caused by betrayal and thievery. I gazed at the middle aged gypsy woman with burning eyes as i tried to contain my anger. “I want it back!! I want my body back! I want the life that was promised to me!!” WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO MEE?????? She calmly reached for a tea cup and took a sip of the drink before putting it down. “Dear boy, there is a way. But….” She eyed me up and down for a few seconds before giving a light laugh “You have to literally “steal back” your essence from him. But looking at you now….Hmm… lets just say you certainly are not in the best physical shape” Tears were beginning to fill my eyes. This cannot be happening. I was born an alpha stud only to be reduced to this for the rest of my life? It cannot be…. I relented and pleaded with her. “Please i will do anything. Please….!!!” Maybe it was my annoying squeaky voice or maybe she really did feel some pity for me. But the next thing she did astonished me. Giggling to herself before looking at me with wide eyes. “They will know what to do. Good luck boy. Oops….i mean stud….” Weaving her fingers around the small statue with the horned man she recited a few mysterious verses. The room seemed to get alot hotter and steamy. Before i realised i looked around me and noticed the visibility in the room had plunged and a fog was engulfing everything around me. I squinted my eyes as i noticed 2 large figures approach me through the smoke. As fearful as i was i wondered if the woman had something terrible planned for me. And what did she mean by “Steal my essence back?” The smoke had cleared and before my eyes were 2 sets of very large and sculpted pecs. Both chest were so large and in my face that i had to take a step back. They must have been tall if my eye level were at their chest. I slowly lifted my head and was greeted with the sight of 2 angelic faces. As handsome as the heavens with bright cocky award winning smiles and sharp noses with bright eyes. But yet there was something devilish about these 2 beings. I tilted my head up further, horrified to see horns protruding out of the foreheads of both men. They’re skin were red tanned and their hair jet black. They smiled at me sincerely before bowing before me. “We are your guardian devils. At your service sir” I was speechless For at least 3 seconds i stared at their handsome faces unable to decide if i was to be afraid or to be turned on by their good looks and sculpted bodies. Some sense returned to me before i quickly looked around my surroundings to realise that i was actually back in my room again! Whatever that strange misty fog had done, it had also transported me back home. One of them looked at the other before nodding his head “Well we don’t have much time sir. Let's get the deed done.” He winked at me cheekily before both of them ushered me out of my room following closely behind me. Everything was dark and before i knew it i was in my brother’s room. By now my eyes had already become well acquainted with the darkness and i could see clearly his room. There he was on the king sized bed sleeping soundly. I could smell the strong manly sweat from him and the musky protein shakes that were around the room. I approached his body carefully as i noticed his perky butt protruding out of the bed sheets. Still unaware of what exactly i had to do I just knew i was finally back for my revenge. And knowing my guardians were behind me provided me with a sense of relief. I mean they should be behind me right? I turned around hoping to catch their gaze. But to my shock. It was complete darkness. I turned my body around looking frantically from left to right. Had i been tricked? Was this all a trap? A million thoughts entered my mind as I heard a sound shuffle behind me in the direction of my sleeping brother. “Hey bitch….” Sweat filled my forehead as i turned my head around. Before me was the god of the brother i had known for such a long time. His height towering over me. His chest pumped confidently with his signature cocky smirk looking down upon me. But worst to come as i looked over both his shoulders. It was dark. But a pair of shine came from my behind both his back. A shine that could only come from an award winning smile. And even though i only came across both these smiles 5 minutes ago I knew I had been betrayed. They’re horns slowly came closer and i could see they’re smirks. All 3 of them as they towered over me. “Suck my cock baby” My brother gloated as he tilted his head higher to make himself appear even taller. I could feel tears swell up in my eyes as i begin to choke on my saliva. Perhaps i was destined to be a skinny short pathetic loser for all my life. Even the people i sought help from have abandoned me. Perhaps it's time to surrender to my destiny…. I fell down on my knees as i slowly opened my mouth. Anticipating his giant meat in my mouth any moment. I tried to pull back my tears and swallow my saliva. I closed my eyes and prepared to acknowledge once and for all my inferiority. “AHHHHHHHH!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I shuddered to myself as i heard the scream before me. Opening my eyes I was shocked to see my brother on his knees instead. He looked at both my guardians with a face so terrified i swore he must have shat and peed his pants 2 times over. He than looked at me and yelled “HELPPP MEEEEE…...gggrrrrrrrrr” One of my guardians quickly shoved his erect penis into my brothers mouth. It was clearly too huge for my brother’s mouth as he closed his eyes tightly before opening them again. He was still trying to say something. But nothing came out except for muted panicked noises. I got on my feet quickly, too shocked from the sudden turn of events. As i walked even closer to my kneeling brother, his eyes turned up to me. And for the first time i saw something i have not seen in years. Not since he hit puberty and outgrew me. I saw the fear. I saw the wide eyed little boy begging for mercy. I saw terrified little drops of tears accumulating at the bottom of his eyes. I looked at my guardians. One with his dick in my brother’s mouth, the other tying a faint glowing rope around his arms leaving him completely helpless. Still trying to resists, he was still making random noises from his cock filled mouth. What a beautiful sight. I simply loved it. One of my guardians grabbed my brothers hair and pulled it tightly up causing him to scream. Abelt a heavily muted one. He dragged my brother to a table and forced his upper body down. He proceeded to spread his legs revealing a tantalizing small butthole. Still with a cock in his mouth i could almost hear my brother pleading with me. It seemed like he was screaming “Please….” I lowered my face closer to his and looked him in the eye. By this time his eyes were swollen from tears and they were desperately looking to the side at me. His mouth was dripping with saliva and pre cum unable to swallow, it was all just leaking out from the side of his mouth. I smiled softly at him “What is that brother? Are you begging me?” He blinked a few times causing a river of tears to flow down his cheeks. “spspsppppppllleaaaaseeeeee…….eeepleeaaaaseeeeeeeee ….nuuuuuuoooo nonooou” I licked my lips “What is that my dear brother? Are you begging me to fuck you??” I placed my ear close to his face as his muted pleas continued “Alright brother you deserve a good fuck after all these years” I grined to myself as i walked to his back and looked at both my guardians. They nodded at me and with a horny grin. Almost like they were totally enjoying what was happening and hoping to see what was about to unfold. I pulled my pants down and stuffed my tiny dick into his hole hard. It wasn't the sexual pleasure that was the best. Instead it was a psychological one. To hear his muted screams as i fucked him hard on the table. What could be better? For one male to force another to his submission. And ironically for one alpha to lose his position to someone smaller and weaker than him. My guardians were chanting softly in a weird language for a while now and the chats were getting louder. For some reason the chants were making my fuck extremely enjoyable. With each thrust of my cock into his warm meat hole the sensation was getting more and more enjoyable. Coincidentally my brothers muted noises were also getting louder and seemed to sound more desperate with each fuck. While my guardians were chanting it seemed they were having some fun of their own as well. The one with his dick on my brothers mouth was savagely face fucking him hard causing the noises he made to sound like it was “vibrating” The other guardian was playing with my brothers balls, occasionally his muted noises would seem to sound like screams which probably meant his balls were being squeezed. Such music to my ears. The sensations to my throbbing cock was simply amazing. Something i have never had the privilege to try all these years due to my small dick. But wait…. I begin to notice something different about me. With each thrust that i pull my cock out it seemed to be getting bigger. I gazed at my arms and was shocked to see how big they were. Veins were flowing down my arms and my biceps were literally getting “pumped up”. An energizing energy washed over me from my cock. It was sensational. It was amazing. It was…. EXPLOSIVE. I closed my eyes as i knew what was going to happen next. I could feel my feet grow. I felt my shoulders broaden themselves out. I could feel my knees expanding. The sensation of my face remoulding itself. It was what i had been waiting for all my life. Rope after rope of cum i released into my brother’s meat hole. At that very moment my guardian pulled his dick out of my brother’s mouth allowing him to scream like the little bitch he truly was. From a deep manly voice it changed quickly to a squeaky pathetic plea. “NOOOOO…..PLEASEEEEE…….I BEG YOUUU…..NOOO…..” I pulled out as quickly as i pushed my initial thrust in. I could feel how much bigger my cock was now compared to his hole as i gasped for air. I covered my face to push away the sweat i had accumulated from all that fucking. As i removed my hands and opened my eyes i was greeted with a small silhouette in the darkness. A small boy lying on the ground. His face was somewhat recognisable but it was too unattractive to look at. Plus his face was filled with white semen all over. So i glanced at his body. Skinny, with bony features. He curled up at a corner sobbing quietly. Looking over at a mirror I saw before me a handsome imposing man. A combination of a world class bodybuilder with the face and grace of a fashion male model. My guardians approached from behind me as i could see their reflections through the mirror. They looked at each other before nodding their heads. And before i knew it. They were gone. I sat down on a chair and placed my feet on my brothers head as he willingly accepted his new position in the family. I knew i should be feeling bad about this. But hey, i’m just Setting Things Right….. *wink Hope you enjoy it. Did both brothers deserve their ending? Let me know.
  21. Guest

    (un)identical twins (1)

    One Jason heard the rumbling sounds coming from his brother's room. "Can't he just do anything quiet", he said to himself and returned to the book he was reading. He had been granted a full academic scholarship to the prestigious university a few blocks away from his house. He was all too happy he would get a top degree and could do it from the comfort of his own room. Brett, Jason's brother, was throwing his clothes atop his bed and putting them into the two large bags on the floor. He was eager to leave for Orchid University and was going to enjoy living on campus. His athletic skills had earned him a football scholarship and he just knew that professional football was his future. Jason was washing his hands when his brother entered the bathroom. He rolled his eyes as he saw that his brother was walking around shirtless once again. Despite the fact they were twins, their brown hair and dark eyes was their only resemblance. At 5'8 and weighing 155 pounds, Jason was a typical nerd: a smart guy, always buried in books, shy and somewhat clumsy. His triangular face and the absence of any beard whatsoever made him look more like a 15 year old. Brett on the other hand was a tad taller (5'9) but weighed an impressive 212 pounds of mostly muscle. He was a pure jock: when not out on the football field, he was pumping iron in the gym, didn't miss an opportunity to ditch his shirt to show off his muscular torso. His strong jaw line and five o'clock beard made him appear a few years older than 18. "Ya done here, little bro?", Brett asked in his deep baritone. "I was born first. That makes me the big brother technically", Jason replied in his higher voice. "You? The big brother? Think again", Brett said and flexed his right arm, "18 inches of power". "Muscle won't take you everywhere in life", Jason shot back. "I'll take brawn over brain every day, bro. How many chicks did your big brain get you so far?", Brett asked and caressed his six-pack, "My muscles got me every girl I wanted. Now be a good little boy and let me shower in peace". Jason shook his head and hurried away from the bathroom as his brother didn't even wait for his reaction to pull down his own pants. He heard the water turn on as he headed back to his room. "One day he's going to get what he deserves", he mumbled to himself. He entered his room and found a parcel on his desk. He opened the little box and discovered an old looking book. A small note fell from the book as he lifted it from the box. He retrieved it and read off the message: A small gift for someone greatly interested in books. Congratulations on year scholarship and good luck in university. Grandpa Jason opened the book and noticed it was some kind of ancient spell book. He knew his grandpa had a great collection of rare books. He had spent hours and hours with him in his library, fascinated by the tales his grandpa had told. Unfortunately, his grandparents lived on the other side of the country and visits had become very rare. He dove onto his bed and began reading the curious book. The next morning Brett took one of his signature long showers. Everyone in the house knowing what he was doing from the loud moans escaping the bathroom. He appeared bright and shining at the breakfast table, a skintight shirt hugging his torso. "Gotta feed this body", he mumbled with a full mouth as he took a fourth serving of pancakes. "Makes us proud, son", his father said, "Maintain the athletic heritage from our family". "Don't worry", Brett replied and gulped down a protein shake, "I will take the field by storm". He gulped down another shake, patted his six-pack and burped. "Fine. Let's get you off to Orchid university then", his father said and get up. "Jason, honey", his mother yelled, "we're off to take your brother to his campus. We'll be back tomorrow. There's plenty of food in the fridge." "Always with his head in the books", his father said while he shook his head and followed his wife and son to the car. Jason watched from the window in his room and saw his parents and his brother drive away. He went to the bathroom and headed into the long walk-in shower. He grinned as he noticed the traces of his brother's morning ritual on the tilled wall: several sticky stains of cum glistened on the dark tiles as they were slowly sliding down. "Luckily Brett always shoots his loads as high as possible up the wall", he said to himself. He pulled a fresh hanky from his pocket and let it soak up as much cum as possible. When he was done, he returned to his room and put the soaked fabric on his desk. He wrote the formula from the book on a piece of paper, according to the instructions. He then proceeded to reading the formula out loud: "Let the body of he who's fluids shall cover this page bond with mine. Let my body fourfold gain whatever mass he should obtain". He grabbed the hanky and rubbed it along the page, smearing his brother's cum onto the paper. In the car, a sudden wave of dizziness hit Brett. His vision went dark for a split second but then returned to normal. In his room, Jason felt an analogue sensation shoot through his own body. He hid the paper inside his desk. And then, the semester got underway. ------------------------------------------------------------ One month later. Brett indeed did well on the football team. He was among the best of the freshmen and everyone agreed that he could lead the team one day. He had become friends with most of the 'big five': the five biggest guys on the team, the group of seniors that dominated their part of the game. Four of them had invited him over for a drink after his first month on the team. The fifth, Mike, the star quarterback who led the team hadn't bothered. He didn't hang out with anyone on the team: his rich parents had rented him a flat off campus and his natural arrogance made him a first class jerk. But his skills on the football field combined with his 240 pounds of muscle made him an almost unstoppable force on the field. Even in the locker room his teammates moved away when he came in. The competitive spirit on the team drove Brett to the gym every day combined with his practice out on the field. Jason eased through his classes with little effort, studying punctually and avoiding the jocks. He didn't have any real friends as he kept to himself in the back of most classes and always returned home. The curse he'd cast on his brother did have positive effects: he'd put on 20 pound of pure muscle since the start of the academic year. At 175 pounds of defined muscle, he looked more like a fitness model when he took off his shirt. Even his face now looked more like that of an 18 year old with a more squared jaw line and the hint of a beard. He kept his new physique well hidden underneath baggy shirts he took from his brother's closet. Only back at home, he went into his brother's room, took off the baggy shirt and admired the new mass on his torso. Brett didn't understand why his body wasn't reacting to his training regime. He decided to up the intensity of his training: he doubled his daily workouts and upped his protein consumption drastically, gulping down shakes whenever he could. During his new early morning workouts, he frequently bumped into Mike in the otherwise deserted gym. The huge star player only nodded to him as he went through his workout. The effects of his brother's increased training were quickly visible on Jason's body. During the next two weeks, he put on another 20 pounds of muscle. His new weight (195 pounds) and muscular arms (17 inches) made him look like a very well muscled fitness model. The once baggy shirts from his brother's closet now hugged his torso nicely and he no longer hid his physique. More heads turned his way as he passed to his classes and even his dad made proud comments. He began drinking protein shakes from the tubes left in his brother's room. One day he even decided to join the local gym. A bit nervous he stepped in and went to the front desk. "What can I do for you?", the guy behind the desk asked. "I'm new here", Jason said, "I would like to join this gym." "You're obviously used to working out", the guy stated as he took in Jason's body, "I'll let you try out for free and we'll discuss the possibilities after you training. Locker room's over there." "Thanks", Jason said. He went into the locker room, changed and entered the gym. Three other guys were working out as he entered. They nodded to him as he went to the bench press. His body seemed to know what to do and the next hour, Jason eased through a good workout. By the end, his pecs and triceps were pumped. He showered quickly and went to the bar to order a shake. The same guy from the desk made him a protein shake. "Had a good workout I see", the guy said and motioned to Jason's pumped arms. "Yeah", Jason replied, "I think I'll join this gym." "Good", the guy stated, "Membership for a month? Or a year?" "Make it a year", Jason answered, "And I'll have another shake too." "There you go", the guy said, "All done. Hope to see you again soon." Jason gulped down his second protein shake and went home. It was the first of his daily visits to the gym. As the semester went on and got near the end, Brett's performance on the field began waning. His body lacked its usual level of energy, during practice he went from being the best among the freshmen to a good top five and in the gym most of his lifts were off. He still looked muscular but hadn't gained one single pound since arriving at Orchid University despite his grueling workout regime and the vast amount of protein he was ingesting. He was probably close to overtraining for once was happy that exams were coming up so he would have a break from training. --------------------------------------------------------------------- At the end of the semester Brett had passed his exams reasonably and was happy to return home for the holidays. He took a train home and arrived mid-afternoon. He entered the house and found his brother lying on the couch. "You're home early", Jason said as he sat up. Brett noticed his brother's deepened voice and blinked as he recognized the shirt. "Are you wearing one of my shirts?", he asked. "Yea", Jason replied, "Mine don't fit anymore since my recent growth spurt. Yours are fine. Bit tight though." Brett didn't respond but took in how the shirt clung to his formerly bony brother's torso. "Huh", he said as he noticed his brother was speaking. "I asked if ya want to go hit the gym. It's time for my workout", Jason repeated while he stood up. "You work out?", Brett asked incredulously. Despite feeling far from okay, he couldn't resist the chance of showing his grown brother who was the alpha. "Fine", he said, "I'll go change and I'll show ya how a real man trains, little bro." A few minutes later, Jason drove both of them to the gym in his new car. None of them spoke a word, the tension between the two brothers hanging in the air: Jason eager to show what his new muscles could do and Brett determined to highlight his dominance. They continued their silence as Jason parked the car and they walked into the gym. "Yo Sam", Jason said to the guy behind the desk, "Brought my bro today. Ya mind if he joins me?". "Bro, I used to train here. I'm a member. Still have my card", Brett interjected and handed his card to Sam. "Yar membership isn't active if ya didn't pay", Jason answered. "Card is no longer active", Sam read from the computer screen, "Do you want to reactivate you membership?". "He's only here for a week. Ya mind if he trains with me for free?", Jason asked. "No problem, J. I'll arrange it", Sam replied. "J?", Brett asked as they entered the locker room. "The guys around here call me J", Jason said and tossed his bag into the locker, "Let's toss some weight around". Brett followed his brother into the deserted gym up to the rack of dumbbells. "Friday is back", Jason said as he grabbed a pair of heavy dumbbells and began doing rows. Brett followed reluctantly: his back wasn't his strong point and his old level of energy was still lacking. He couldn't believe how easy his brother handled the heavy dumbbells. The guy kept cranking out reps when his back was burning from the effort and he dropped the dumbbells. The next hour Jason cruised through his workout while Brett struggled to keep up. Whenever Jason saw his brother grab a weight, he made sure to grab a heavier one and pump out more reps. "Something wrong, bro?", he asked as he saw Brett trying to catch his breath. "Feeling a bit tired from my trip home", Brett muttered in between deep breaths, "We're done yet?". "One more exercise, bro", Jason said and walked over to the pull up station. He grabbed the bar and performed 50 perfect reps. Brett looked at his brother in disbelief, watching the muscles on his wide back work. He nodded 'no' as his brother motioned him to start. "Come on, bro. Thought ya were gonna show me how a real man trains", Jason said smugly and folded his arms in front of his chest to emphasize the new thickness of his biceps. "Fine", Brett replied to maintain some of his old dominant pose. He grabbed the bar and pulled himself up. He tried to ignore how little fluent the motion looked compared to his brother. He reached 15 reps before his grip faltered and he jumped down. He avoided his brother's gaze while he sat down on a nearby bench. "I'm done", he mumbled exhaustedly. Jason just grinned and performed three more long sets of pull ups. "Let's call it a day, bro", he said and walked out of the gym, enjoying how his pumped lats pushed his arms out from his sides and added wideness to his posture. "Prepare me a shake for after my shower, Sam", he said as he passed the bar. Brett followed his brother, marveled at the formerly shy guy's new dominant attitude and the wideness of his frame. As they entered the locker room and begin stripping down, he felt like saying something to excuse his lame work out if he wanted to keep his dominant position in the family. "You're lucky I'm tired from my trip, Jason", he said, "If not you would have begged for mercy". The lack of conviction in his tone only emphasized the hollowness of his words and only diminished his dominance. "Tired. Right, bro", Jason added sarcastically. Savoring how his brother tried to ignore their new statuses. He didn't even bother to look aside and kept stripping down. Brett entered the shower first and went to the furthest shower head in the right corner. He faced the wall as he turned on the water. His mind still trying to process the new reality. A few moments later he heard another shower turning on and he cautiously turned his head a bit. He saw his brother standing under the shower in the center of the left wall. Jason wasn't facing the wall as he showered. Ever since he'd grown he didn't miss an opportunity to display his body. Brett glanced from the corner of his eyes, blinking when he saw his brother's biceps twitch as the guy washed his hair. He quickly turned his head back to the wall when his brother opened his eyes. "I'm gonna have my shake, bro. Don't take too long, I wanna get home for dinner. Gotta feed my body", Jason said and left the shower. A few minutes later Brett showed up in the bar. His brother was gulping down a second protein shake based on the other empty glass on the bar. "Yeah, up to 215 since last week", he heard Jason say to Sam as he approached. "Ya pay these shakes, bro. I got ya in for free. See ya tomorrow, Sam", Jason said and stood up. Brett quickly paid his brother's shakes and followed Jason to his car. Back home, Brett was greeted by his parents and the family enjoyed their first family dinner in months. Unlike before he'd left to Orchid University, Brett wasn't being served first. Jason took the biggest steak and the largest serving of potatoes. After the first serving, Jason and Brett reached for the steak that was left. A quick glance and a slight flex of his brother's right arm made Brett retreat his fork and he watched his brother devour the juicy steak. Just three months ago there would have been no question to whom would eat the last steak. Somehow his once lanky brother had become more dominant while Brett had been at Orchid University. As his brother helped himself to his third serving of potatoes, Brett excused himself and mumbled an excuse of being fatigued from his trip. "Hope ya're feeling better tomorrow for our work out, bro", Jason said with a full mouth. The next morning Brett did feel better when he got up. He went down and found his brother dressed in his workout gear at the table. "Feeling fresh, bro?", Jason asked and gulped down a protein shake. "Let's hit the gym and I'll show you", Brett spat back and made himself a shake too. "Can't wait", Jason replied with a grin. Just minutes later the two brothers drove off to the gym, greeted Sam and entered the weight room. "Arm day, Jason", Brett said and grabbed a 80 pound bar. This time he was going to make his brother follow his lead. He cranked out reps, enjoying the feeling of his biceps pumping. Brett just grinned and grabbed the 90 pound barbell as a warm up. He made sure to pump out 5 reps more than his brother. "Time for the real work", Brett stated and grabbed the 150 pound bar. He groaned and his face reddened instantly as he managed 8 reps. He dropped the bar and looked aside with a grin. The grin froze on his face as he saw his brother curling the 170 pound bar. Unlike him, his brother even managed three sets. "What's up next, bro?", Jason asked matter-off-factly. "Hammer curls", Brett said angrily and grabbed a pair of 80 pound dumbbells. After two reps the familiar feeling of fatigue and weakness began spreading in his biceps. At his sixth rep his biceps were burning painfully and he had to drop the weight. Jason shook his head, grabbed the 100 pound dumbbells and began pumping out reps casually. "…3,4,5,6,7,8…", he counted out loud to stress his new strength. He managed 12 nice reps before gently lowering the weight. Brett didn't want to go down without a fight and grabbed the 80 pounders again. This time the painful burning filled his biceps at the first reps. His arms shook, his body trembled as hoisted the dumbbells up. After three lousy reps, his grip gave out and the weights crashed down on the floor. "Watch it, bro. Sam doesn't like weights being thrown down. Show some respect.", Jason said while he began his second set. He once more performed 12 perfectly controlled reps before ending his set. "Next one", Brett said as he racked his dumbbells. "Not done just yet, bro", Jason replied and performed a third and fourth set just to show off his new position. It felt like he was getting more dominant with every rep he did. "Now we're done", he said after his fourth set. "Preacher curls", Brett muttered and stepped over to the machine. He selected a 100 pounds and began pumping out reps. Jason sat down on the adjacent machine, selected 200 pounds and followed his brother's lead. The competition was on and neither one wanted to quit first. After 20 reps, Brett's arms cramped up completely and he had to stop. His body felt completely drained. He looked aside and his eyes widened in disbelief as he saw his brother continuing his grueling set. Jason felt totally energized. His body fed on the energy of his brother that pushed him beyond his limits. "…35,36,37…38…39…40", he groaned and ended his set. The pump in his biceps was unreal. "That was fun, bro. Let's hit triceps now", he said and stood up. "Wh…what?", Brett blurred out in total disbelief. Jason grinned at his brother's reaction. "Sure thing, bro. Biceps are just half the work on arm day", he said and returned to the dumbbells. "Or are ya tired again?", he added. Brett followed his brother but didn't train anymore. He just handed him the weights he demanded. He felt his once dominant position weaken with every rep his brother performed and even handed him his towel when he asked for it. He simply watched After an hour, Jason finally decided that their workout was over. His arms were fully engorged, his biceps and triceps pumped after the torture he had put them through. "Can't even flex from the pump", he said as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. "Fine. Let's hit the shower. And bring my towel, bro", he stated and left. Brett grabbed his brother's towel and followed the guy. He gazed at the defined, hard triceps that jutted out from the back of his meaty arms. "Thanks, bro", Jason said as he grabbed the towel from his brother's hand and ripped his shirt off. "Can't get it over my head. My arms are too pumped", he said as he saw the shocked expression on his brother's face. "When ya train like a real man, ya swill feel this too", he added and strutted into the showers. Brett followed a few minutes later. He entered the shower zone and saw his brother standing in the center of the left wall, his body on full display for everyone. He looked away quickly when his brother made eye contact. He retreated to the furthest shower on the opposite wall and face the wall like the day before. Now and then, he turned his head slightly to peak at his brother. The way his biceps swelled as his brother massaged his hair made a faint 'wow' escape his mouth. He quickly turned his head back to the wall when his brother opened his eyes again. "Time for my shake. Don't make me wait, bro", Jason said while he left. Brett inhaled deeply when he was alone in the shower zone. The second training with his brother had made another deep dent in his once unquestionable dominant position. Deep down he knew he wasn't the alpha anymore but his brain refused to accept the new reality. He turned off the shower, got dressed and went to the bar. He blinked as he saw Sam feeling his brother's left arm. Jason noticed his brother. "Now ya know what a real arms feels like, Sam", he said and gulped down his second protein shake. He got up, winked to Sam and left. Brett wanted to follow his brother but was asked to pay for the shakes again. He did and followed his brother to his car. On the ride home, he took short glances at his brother's arms, watching the corded muscles on his forearms tense as he shifted gears. Back home he rushed into his room and didn't come out until dinner. As it was Christmas the next day, the gym was closed and Brett was relieved not having to join his brother again. At noon the family gathered for their traditional feast. The food was delicious and most of it ended up on Jason's plate. Everyone watched, the parents lovingly and Brett in disbelief, as Jason wolfed down serving after serving. "Ya done, bro?", he asked and took the half serving of meat lying on Brett's plate. When every dish was emptied, he patted his tight six-pack happily. "Gotta feed my body", he said, "Fuelling up for our workout tomorrow. Can't wait for it, bro". "Me too", Brett said unconvincingly. "I'm so glad you two finally share an interest and spent some time together. I'm proud of both of you", their father said. The next morning Brett found his brother once again waiting for him at the breakfast table. Minutes later they were driving toward the gym. As the previous times none of the brothers spoke a word and the tension hanging in the air was like a thunderstorm ready to explode. Both of them knew it would be a decisive moment: Brett was fighting to maintain his former dominance over his brother and Jason was ready to finally claim the top position as alpha of the family. They maintained their silence until they entered the weight room. "Let's smash chest", Jason said. He put on his usual warm up weight and cranked out 20 quick reps. "I'll show ya how it's done, bro", Brett said smugly and cranked out 20 equally fast reps. He knew that his chest was his best muscle group and he wasn't going to step down from the confrontation today. Jason added some weight to the bar and did his first working set of 12 solid reps. Brett followed suit. Jason continued adding weight to the bar after each set. After their third set Brett's chest was beginning to feel fatigued. He'd even one rep less than his brother. "Fourth set", Jason groaned as he pushed up the bar and cranked out another 8 reps. Brett got under the bar, pushed it up and felt his arms shake. He got to 5 reps before his pecs gave out and he re-racked the bar. He stood up, trying to catch his breath and felt his face turn red. "Not so strong after all", Jason said smugly. He added two more plates to the bar and got another solid 7 reps. "Put on some more weight, bro", he said as he laid down on the bar. Brett did as he was told and watched in disbelief as his brother pumped out 5 reps with the heavy bar. It was 30 pounds more than his own max. He felt his once undisputed position slipping away. "Dumbbell presses", Jason said as he stood up from the bench press and wandered over to the free weights. He grabbed the third heaviest pair and began his exercise. Brett followed suit but took a pair of considerably lighter dumbbells. "A bit over trained from football", he mumbled to his brother. Even with the lighter weights he couldn't pump out the reps of his brother. He dropped the weights to the floor and looked in disbelief as his brother grabbed the heaviest dumbbells. "Don't hurt yourself, bro. I never managed that weight", he said. Jason grinned and cranked out 8 solid reps, enjoying the feeling of the pump spreading through his chest. "Too bad they don't have any heavier dumbbells", he grunted as he did three more sets. He sat up, racked the dumbbells and went to the dipping station. "You go first, bro", he said, "ya had time to catch yar breath while I was still dumbbell pressing." Brett grabbed the handles and began dipping. He got 12 nice reps before his arms began shaking. He managed two more reps before jumping down. Jason grabbed the handles and copied his brother's movement. On his twelfth rep, he intentionally made his arms tremble. Then, he continued dipping. Brett's eyes widened as his brother passed the 30 rep point with perfect form. He felt the balance of dominance between them shift with every passing set. "50", Jason groaned and stepped down from the dipping station, "You're up, bro." Brett reluctantly grabbed the handles again. By now his chest felt totally exhausted but he couldn't give up just like that. He only got to 6 reps before his form faltered completely. Jason went through his second set, getting to another solid 40 reps. He stepped down and looked at his brother. Brett simply shook 'no' and pretended to suffer from cramp. His mind on the verge of accepting he had been knocked down by his once lanky brother. Jason blasted through three more sets of 35 dips. He inhaled deeply as he stepped down from the dipping station, his stretched tank top protesting with some tearing sounds as his pumped pecs inflated further. "Pec deck is up next, bro", he said. From that point on Brett simply followed his brother through the gym and watched as he pushed out rep after rep, and feeling him get more dominant with every rep. An hour after they'd arrived, Jason finished his fifth set of pushups and got up. His sweat-drenched tank top was glued to his pumped torso. "Enough for today", he grunted and walked toward the locker room, not even looking at his brother. None of the brothers spoke a word when they began stripping off their workout gear in the locker room. Both of them knowing that the balance of dominance had shifted completely and definitively. Brett's mind was still processing the acceptance of being taken down a notch and Jason was savoring in his new position. "Someone pumped his pecs today." Brett turned around at the remark and saw Sam entering the locker room and admiring his brother's chest. His eyes widened as the guy stepped up to his brother and groped the pumped mass of muscle atop his chest. "Ya like feeling a real chest, don't ya", Jason asked while he let the smaller guy worship his pecs. "Come on. Flex 'em, J.", Sam pleaded. Brett just stared at the unbelievable scene in front of him. Jason grinned and flexed his chest, making striations explode under the smaller guy's touch. "Ya know what to do, Sam", he said casually while he stared right into his brother's eyes. Brett's eyes widened when the smaller guy kneeled, slid down his brother's pants to reveal his plump cock and took it in his mouth. He couldn't believe what was happening right there in the center of the locker room. It was as if he wasn't there for those two guys and his brother kept staring directly into his eyes with a smug expression on his face. Within seconds Jason spilled his load into Sam's eager mouth. When his orgasm wore off, he pulled his cock from the guy's mouth and walked to the shower zone. "Don't ya need a shower, bro?", he asked as he passed his brother. Brett watched Sam stand up and disappear and followed his brother's example. The next morning Brett awoke late. His parents had already left for work and his brother was apparently still in his room as he walked into the bathroom. He ditched his boxers and entered the long walk-in shower. He turned on the shower and enjoyed the hot water cascading down on his body. A grin formed on his face as he thought back at the countless times he'd jerked off against the tilled wall. Lately even his morning wood seemed less hard than at the end of summer. A faint noise caught his attention and he turned off the water. He turned around and a yelp escaped his mouth as he saw his fully nude brother standing at the entrance of the walk-in shower. "What the fuck, Jason", he said angrily while he put his hands in front of his cock. "I asked if ya were done here, little bro", Jason replied grinningly. His deepened baritone easily rivaling his brother's deep voice. Brett didn't react to the 'little bro'. He just stared at his brother's grown body. Standing just a few feet away, his brother looked truly intimidating. Just a few months earlier no one would have told they were brothers: he outsized Jason by a good 60 pounds. Now the tables had turned. Despite being close to his brother's weight, Brett's 212 pounds seemed way less intimidating than Jason's 215 pounds. Brett's muscles seemed a bit saggy: his pecs hung slightly as if their weight pulled them down and his shoulders hunched forward making his posture lack his once usual aura of strength and confidence. Jason on the other hand radiated power: his pecs protruded firmly from his chest and his wide shoulders formed a strong line capped with his rounded delts. His now squared face added to his masculine look. The guy seemed to ooze power and confidence. Jason grinned smugly while his brother scanned his torso. "Miring my bod like after all our workouts in the gym shower, little bro?", he asked casually. Brett tore his gaze from the ripped six-pack and focused on his brother's eyes. He blinked when he realized he had to look up slightly to stare Jason in the eye. "I'm no longer just technically the bigger brother", Jason said, "How big are yar arms?". "18 inches", Brett replied and tensed his right arm to show off his size. "18.5 inches cold", Jason replied. He raised his arms and threw a double bicep pose to emphasize his point. Brett could only stare as his brother displayed his superior form. Ever since their workout the balance of dominance had shifted entirely in favor of his brother and now Brett felt how Jason was imposing his alpha-status completely. "What does half an inch really mean", he muttered unconvincingly. Jason hardened his flex some more in reply to his brother's remark. "We both know what it means, little bro", he groaned and relaxed his pose. "Besides, I'm bigger everywhere", he added. "Huh?", Brett muttered as he pretended not to know what his brother meant. Jason stepped closer while he casually stroked his cock, grabbed his brother's ass and pulled him in. Their hard cocks brushed against each other. "See what I mean, little bro?", he asked. Brett followed his brother's gaze down and inhaled sharply: his brother's cock pressed into his the base below his cock while his own cock lay atop his brother's dick without touching his brother's groin and didn't rival his brother's one in girth either. "See, little bro. Mine's longer and thicker than yours. I'm bigger everywhere!", Jason boomed and savored his new dominant status. His erection jolted underneath his brother's hard dick. Brett broke from his brother's grasp and took a step back. "How did you do it, Jason?", he asked, "you were a runt before I left and now you're…". "The bigger man, ya mean", Jason rumbled, "I cast a curse. When you train, my body gains the size you would have gained. The more ya train, the bigger I get. And ya can't stop training or ya'll lose yar scholarship. So, ya will only make me bigger and bigger, little bro." "Cursed me?", Brett let out, "You're just on steroids. Now get lost so I can shower in peace." "Ya're in no position to tell me what to do, little bro", Jason said, "How many times did ya storm in here when I was showering and told me to leave? Flexing yar arms to intimidate me? Mocking me with yar brawn being superior to me brain? Guess what, little bro: I have brains and brawn now. I'm the new alpha here. Ya should now yar new place." Brett retreated some more, his back pressing against the tilled wall. He had never felt this intimidated before and his once runty brother was doing it to him. He saw his brother come closer and reaching for him. He tried resisting but his weakened body was no match for his now buff brother. Jason easily pushed his brother's arms aside and grabbed his armpits. He turned his brother around and made him face the tilled wall. His 8,5 incher pointed straight at his brother's meaty ass. Brett put his hands against the tilled wall and tried pushing his body away from the wall but his brother held on to his armpits firmly. "Let me go, Jason. you can shower in peace", he mumbled. The words died on his lips as he felt the head of his brother's cock brush against his ass. "No", he mumbled. Jason ignored his brother's cries and shoved his dick into the tight hole. He moaned in pleasure as he busted through the clenched defenses and felt the ass clamp against his cock. "Please….", Brett pleaded in vain. Pain exploded through his body as his brother rammed his cock entirely into his ass. His hands clawed against the tilled walls and a high painful shriek escaped his mouth. "Ya're the little bro now. I'm the new alpha here", Jason moaned, grabbed hold of his brother's hips and began pumping his cock in and out of his brother's clenching ass. Tears leaked from Brett's eyes as his brother installed his total dominance. He felt humiliated beyond anything he'd ever felt. He felt his brother's hot breath against his neck and his brother's deep moans rumbled in his right ear with every thrust of the cock in his ass. His arms trembled and his entire body rocked on the rhythm of his brother's fucking. He looked down and to his horror he noticed that his own cock was at full mast and throbbing. Jason heard his brother's painful shrieks and they only excited him more. He was quickly getting close to orgasm and he felt his balls churning while he ravaged the ass of the brother who had physically dominated the family for years. The slow process of destroying his brother's dominance during their workouts and gradually stripping him of his old alphaness now culminated into fucking him into his new role while he assumed Brett's former position at the top of the family hierarchy. He pulled back his cock almost completely and then rammed it with full force into the clenching ass. "YEAH", he roared loudly as he exploded deep inside his brother. Brett shivered as his brother's spunk filled him with liquid heat and the violence of Jason's orgasm shook his own body violently. He felt spurt after spurt after spurt shoot inside him. At the same time his own cock exploded against the tilled wall. "Ughn", he grunted as his balls blasted out four loads of cum. His own moan drowning in the noise of his brother's deeper moans. Unlike before he didn't feel all-powerful as he came inside the shower, this time he felt nothing but shame. When his blasts stopped, his brother kept squirting his load into him. He felt the sticky juice slide along his legs while his body continued shaking on the rhythm of his brother's thrusts. After eight loads Jason's orgasm finally wore off and he pulled his dick from his brother's ass. "I don't expect to see ya in the gym today, little bro", he grunted and left his humiliated brother in the shower. Brett crashed down, his body destroyed from the fucking by his brother and cried inside the shower that had once made him feel untouchable.
  22. Guest

    Like Father Like Son

    Ethan Asked: Hello Goggletan, could you help me out here? I’ve recently received lots of hand me downs from my older bro but I’m starting to get too large to wear them. I’ve always been receiving and wearing the hand me downs since i was a kid but recently he keeps giving me more clothes and forcing me to wear them. But he’s really skinny and im starting to outgrow him in height as well. I have just reached puberty but i have never been to the gym or done much working out but my body is expanding so much as you can see. Its like these muscles were in my DNA and they just keep getting bigger without me doing anything. To wear my brothers hand me downs I’ll need to be shorter so my jeans fit, i need smaller arms so my t-shirts will fit on me and a smaller package to fill his small underwear. Which is what has been happening. We’re not poor so i don’t understand why he keeps forcing me to wear his old clothes. He has always been dominating towards me although i feel he has been hiding something from me. I know that behind all that dominating facade he is quite a soft timid mouse. I have an interest to start bodybuilding and play some sports competitively, however he keeps stopping me from doing so as well. He does’nt even let me enter the local gym saying “its too dangerous for me” I tried talking to my dad as well but he supports my older brother. And i’m starting to get really frustrated. My body has since stop growing since i started to wear my brother's clothes more often. And i realized if this keeps up i might even become the smallest and shortest boy in my class.....Just like my brother and father.... Are they trying to stunt my growth on purpose? Any idea whats going on and if possible can you suggest a solution? Goggletan Reply: Well hello there Ethan. It is always a bit of a dick move for parents to pass hand me downs from older bros to younger bros, but it is an understandable money saver. But in your case i can obviously tell that there is something sinister behind. I can confirm that your weakling older brother is indeed trying to suppress your growth. He knows that you’ll soon outgrow him in terms of everything. From height, to muscles and even your cock size. He can tell that you've been born into the life of an Alpha Stud. And he is threatened by the fact that soon you will be the dominant brother in the relationship. He is jealous of your birthright to be an ALPHA male whereas he will be relegated to being a beta submissive fag. That is why he forces you to wear his clothes. His beta scent will rub of you causing your height to be stunted and your muscle growth to be under developed. If you continue to wear his clothes. You will become a beta fag like him too. But don’t worry. I happen to know that your father’s younger brother, your Uncle Eric is coming to town this weekend. He will be bringing a whole load of old clothes with him and he will be passing them to you. You remember Uncle Eric doncha? He’s the man that you thought was your dad’s older brother until you found out he was actually 3 years younger than your dad but towers over him in terms of height and muscle size. Come to think of it you’re also younger than your older brother by 3 years too. What a coincidence!. He was the man your mum constantly told your dad not to worry about but you would often catch her secretly eyeing his large chest and broad shoulders. She would occasionally even invite him to your house when your father wasn’t around and you would hear lots of loud moaning from her room. It usually is about how much pleasure he is giving her and how big of a cock he has. And she would laugh comparing Uncle Eric's monster cock to your cuckold dad. He was the man your dad constantly tried to be but never could. Not only was he physically large. His confidence, strong sense of ALPHA behavior and cocky rude way of dealing with other men made your own father look like a little girl in a dress every time he came to visit. It was almost embarrassing knowing that your father was supposed to be the “BIG” brother who might or might not have known he was being a cuckold bitch of a man to his “little” brother. Strangely you never sympathized with your dad. In fact you have always respected how much of a man he was to your loser dad. You could see how cocky Uncle Eric was and you looked up to him. In fact now that im mentioning him, i realized he does have many interest that are similar to yours such as sports and an interest in bodybuilding. And thats something your father and your brother tried to get into but never could due to their small bodies and weaker nature. He has always been the Fuckboy of the family. Good looking, tall, muscular, charismatic and not to mention incredibly rich from winning so many bodybuilding competitions and starring in sport advertisements and fitness modeling. Its no wonder he has sex so much and seems to always have a new hot model as his girlfriend every few weeks. But what really bothers you is that even tho he has so much sex he hasn’t had a kid yet. I’m sure sometimes you do wonder, if he had a son. How would he turn out to be? I assume you would imagine him to as attractive, godly and incredibly sexually hot as he is. Actually you might be surprised to find out that he does have a son out there and that lucky kid has every chance in his muscle bound DNA to be like his daddy. Anyways don’t forget to wear your Uncle Eric’s old clothes when he passes you his whole load of em. Among the many things, I’m sure he’ll pass you his signature cocky sunglasses and flashy gym stringers which will come in handy when you hit the gym more often in the future. Don’t worry, they’ll fit perfectly…… Like Father, Like Son.... Though i must warn you... I knew your father. He was ugly, short and weak. He never could have compared to his younger brother, your uncle Eric. Your father had to watch helplessly as his younger brother outshined him everyday, living the stud jock life he envied but never could live. He was cuckolded, and forced to see his golden younger brother fuck his wife and even had to pretend nothing happened and raised his brother's boy. He again had to watch as his brother's boy outshined his only son. It was like re watching humiliation all over again. But while he wasn't physically imposing nor did he have the personality of an Alpha male like Uncle Eric, he possessed a cunning mind. He was a slimy tricky fox. And foxes have been known to be very patient. He has been planning this since your birth Ethan. You will be forced to wear your older but smaller brother's clothing and you will be unable to grow. Your arms will stay small and weak. Your strength will never be stronger than a pussy girl. Your height will be stunted and you will end up the shortest boy in school. Your handsome face that was your birth right would be stripped away, in place you will slowly take after your older brother's once ugly facial features. Your true father, Uncle Eric would be alerted to your "problems" He would come bearing all his old clothes to ensure you attain your birth right as an Alpha Stud. Only to be ambushed by your Father and Older brother and tricked into giving them all the old clothes. While all this is happening you will be allowed to finally go to the gym. You happily go, thinking your father and older brother has finally allowed you to become the bodybuilder Alpha you were born to be. When you return all pumped from the gym you see only a naked muscular body bound by ropes, he tries desperately to move and sequels like a pig but is unable to say anything legible because a ball gag has been forced into his mouth. Neither can he see anything for his eyes have been blindfolded by a tight cloth. Its an irony the body before you. With a body so large and muscualr and powerful yet bound up in ropes like a helpless pig on the ground. But even with his "reduced" circumstance you manage to recognize him as your once powerful Alpha Uncle Eric. He struggles in vain as you watch helplessly your father and brother walk in. Your loser cuckold father is wearing Uncle Eric's old gym sweaty and stinky pink stringers. On his face is also Uncle Eric's signature flashy sunglasses. Except that, he doesn't seem like a cuckold nor a loser anymore. You almost couldn't recognize the behemoth before you. The 6'2 muscle monster standing before you, in all his glory as he smirks and licks his lips he bends down to grab a tuff of your uncle Eric's hair. He pulls the helpless man's body up as he continues to struggle and squeel like a pig. And you can see the drain of muscles from Uncle Eric to your father. Making your already large father even bigger and turning your once muscular Uncle Eric into a scrawny shadow version of himself. He smirks at you before dropping the skinnier body of Uncle Eric down on the ground. Taking of the stringers and shades before passing it to your brother. As your brother puts the stringers on you can clearly see his shoulders expanding before your eyes. His biceps rapidly expanding and his height growing every second. You step backwards in complete shock and the whole incident happening now. Your brother than puts the pair of sunglasses over his eyes and you can sense the arrogance, cocky personality and alpha confidence spread throughout his body. His height and muscles still expanding, he puts his prized cap on his head and does a stretching pose with his arms behind his back revealing his new body in all its glory. At the same time you could feel it too, your deflating muscles, your bones shrinking making you shorter, your facial structure reforming itself. You could feel it all but you were helpless to do anything. You are being robbed of your Alpha Birth Right. You look back at Uncle Eric and notice that all his muscles are gone. The once confident handsome and cocky Uncle Eric you have always known have now been reduced to a scrawny weakling just squirming on the floor like a helpless caterpillar. Unable to break free of his bonds and with a gag in his mouth all he could do was sequel like a helpless pig. Your "Father" walks up to you in all his new muscled glory. He was the epitome of hotness now. Even as his face comes close to you, you could feel his hot breathe on your cheeks. And for some reason you felt your small reduced dickling start to get hard from being in the presence of such a powerful Alpha. Eyeing your decreased muscle mass and your obviously shorter height before snickering at your still growing mini erection. He spits on the ground next to Uncle Eric's reduced naked body before commenting in the deepest masculine voice you have ever heard....... "Like Father, Like Son..... Beta Fags" ----------------------------End-------------------------------------- Please comment and tell me how you felt about the story. Thanks
  23. anonymous90

    The Thief Among Us (2019 Redux)

    I sincerely apologize for the fact that I let this story go so long without a new chapter. I'm trying to be better! New deadlines and all that, so hopefully I'll have a new chapter up by at the latest, next month. (at the latest, promise lol) So, here's the story with more than a few changes. Not sure how long this will end up being, but with any luck, it'll be a good bit, at least as long as SeventhWaves Symbiote War. Without further ado, my story: ~~~ This all started when I moved in with my roommate, John. For starters, I was pretty well off, but since my parents had decided it was time for me to get a place of my own for college, I was pretty much kicked out until my four years were up. They said that they would pay my way into whatever place I chose, but there were to be no issues, “Or else.” My father had said. So I moved into the dorms with him. He was on the wrestling team, same as me, according the the receptionists in the lobby of the building, so I figured we’d get on decently. Rather, as well as most roommates do. I’d known that the start of move in day was going to be awkward; classes starting by noon for most of us, so we had little time for chit-chat, making what little conversation I’d be able to have with the guy would be even further limited. I was the first of the two of us to get to the dorm, and chose the desk to the left side of the bunk, as opposed to the one on the wall opposing the bunks. I figured it would just be easier, not having to listen to someone bitch about a light being on right next to their face. The dorm room was minimalistic, and everything served a purpose: the walls were bare and off-white; there was a small kitchen, and a bathroom just the right size for cleaning up after wrestling practice. I emptied my shit into one of the closets, throwing most of my underwear and spare gear into one of the drawers beneath my bunk. John arrived just as I was about to hop in the shower before my run of the campus began. It had been a long drive from the Nevada homestead to California, and my car’s a/c had very recently gone out. While the dorm room WAS cold, I was still hot and sweaty; due for a hosing off. I stripped off my t-shirt after I had put my clothes and bags away, and just as my shirt landed in the hamper, the door opened to reveal a guy built just big enough to be considered possible competition. All of maybe 175lbs, He was a hot, boy-next-door kinda guy. Blond hair, small-but-fit build, tan complexion, pale blue eyes. As I looked him over, he gave me a wolfish grin, looking me over in turn. Raising his eyebrows slightly as his eyes roved down the rows of chiseled muscle, I could tell he was impressed…with a touch of jealousy in the way his eyes narrowed at the edges. I took a look at his bags, happening to have a wrestling singlet sticking out of his sports duffel. He dressed in a tank top and shorts, complete with what looked like brand-new running shoes. My best guess, he was probably just about to scope out the gym himself. At 6’3”, dark haired, and a fair bit bigger than he was in muscle mass, I safely dwarfed him, my frame resting at a good 210 lbs. comfortably. Being that I had him on definition to boot, there was no denying who was the bigger man. He put his bags down by the door and walked over to me, scoping out the new digs but keeping most of his focus on me, stormy eyes that felt like they were boring holes into my skull from the intensity of his stare. “Hey man! Name’s John.” He said, giving me the official bro-hug, not letting his faux team cheer slide despite how obviously he envied me the current standing. “’figured coach would work with housing to get me in with another wrestler. Always trying to get me to make friends.” As he said this, he tightened his hold around me, demonstrating his crushing ability by pressing our bodies a little tight for friendly comfort. His entire front pressed against mine, the hug lasted just a little too long. Not one to be outdone, I returned with greater force, causing him to elicit a cross-breed between a moan of pleasure and a groan of pain. I assumed the latter. “I’m Nick.” I said, untangling myself from the sadistic hug. Immediately I felt kinda bad for not waiting on him to pick bunks. I look to my already made bed, navy blue sheets already neatly tucked in. “I kinda picked my bunk already, so I guess you can be on top?” “Works for me. I’m used to being on top.” He said with a wink, throwing everything but his duffle into his closet, setting an odd-looking black figurine on his desk before taking off, door slamming behind him. Puzzled and somewhat turned on by the cryptic behavior, I walked to the bathroom, stripping the rest of my clothes off on the way. . . . Since we attended an all-boys college, the nearest town, and girls, were about thirty minutes away. The college wasn’t particularly strict about dress code, so naturally, most of the guys wore whatever, but it being California, and the middle of July, we wore the bare minimum. Most of the guys on campus were either playing Frisbee, football, or catching up on summer work that hadn’t gotten finished between the semesters. Despite the sun shining, the school had a bluish hue in the very air around it. As I made my way across the quad, I shouted hellos to at least twenty of the guys, most being my friends having found this place on the scholarship roster in town after I applied myself; Room, board, tuition, all covered under some crazy donor program. I hadn’t exactly been worried about price when I’d applied myself, but even I knew the cost of admission was up there with the Ivy League schools. Finally hitting the biggest building on the campus, I make my way to the gym, four separate sections all devoted to letting loose and showing off your full physical potential. This was where I most excelled. Class didn’t start ‘til 12, so I figured it’d be a good time to practice, maybe do a few warmups with the guys before hitting workout room. The mats were down already, and the other wrestlers were already in the middle of practice. I walk past my teammates, two of them already looking a little worse for wear, and hit up the coach, making small talk about the improvements from some of the new guys. Carter and Benjamin were our “new talent” apparently, having gotten a late start into the sport but were steadily working their way up the roster as two of our best. Looking down at the growth charts, it’s amazing how much these guys have gained in so short a time. Impressed as I was, I was a bit skeptical, until coach shook his head, a knowing smile coming across his face as he addressed my exact concerns. “I know what you’re thinking, no, they’re not juicers. I’ve got them on strict watch. A little fruitier than I’d normally let on the team, but talent is talent, and we’re gonna need it to beat the teams from the rival schools.” He sighs, gazing off into the distance, presumably looking over at the trophy cabinet on the far wall. “You just don’t find raw talent like you used to anymore.” He gives me a look, a smile returning to his lightly bearded face. “But that’s why we pushed so hard to get you involved. Talent, Charisma, that’s what this team needs. I’ve never been so sure of a team captain in my life Nick.” He claps me on the shoulder, shoving me off toward the lockers. “Get dressed. We’ll get you warmed up and then you can be on your way.” As I make my way into the shared locker rooms, I passed half the swim team, the lifters, and the few teammates that hadn’t made it to the main floor yet. Mist throughout, I went to my locker to drop off my duffel and dress. I stripped my shirt, undoing the drawstring of my shorts, when the clank of a fist on steel alerted me to a presence on my right side. Deciding my attention was better spent preparing for my opponent, I let my mind drift until needed, until a pair of vaguely familiar sneakers appeared in my line of sight. “Sup dude?” “Hey John…” I looked up at him, trying to return his smile, the same smirk from earlier still on his face as I got out my singlet. I pulled it up, I watching from the corner of my eye as he appraised my body again, pulling off his clothes as he did so. “I’m not queer you know.” I said. Now in just his boxers, he stopped and turned fully to me with a cold glare. “What makes you think I’m queer, asshole?” He spat through clenched teeth. “You’re half hard bro, and you keep looking at me like I’m a steak or something.” My eyes narrowed. “I might be fine with guys checking me out, but you’re getting pretty creepy with the way you’re eyeballing me.” He pulls his boxers down past a modest-looking ass, and brandishes his dick toward me. “Does this look like a semi?” His dick filled his pouch to the waistband, but it was still completely flaccid. He was twice my soft length, and a little less than my girth. My guess was about 6 inches. Hard, he'd probably add two inches at least. He walks over to the mirror behind me, giving himself a once over before packing himself up, pulling his singlet taut over his chest, outlining the muscle. At my awed expression, his glare became a cruel smile. “As for how I’m looking at you…not that you’re hard on the eyes, but I wanna see just what my competition looks like.” He pulled his boxers and singlet up, “so I can figure out what needs taken care of.” “Forgot your cup, bro.” He struts past me, making a grab for my balls, forcing me to feign away, eliciting a chuckle. “Seeya out there, roomy.” . . . Practice ended about forty-five minutes later, and everyone was mostly packed up, leaving just me and John on the floor with coach. “Alright boys, you know the drill, last two to leave packs it in. And Nick, I’m expecting you here early tomorrow to pick up where we left off getting the new guys trained up, ya hear?” Without waiting for a reply, coach grabs his own bag, heading off to the showers to lock up his office. “Hey Nick.” John called from across the floor, most of the mats already set off in a neat pile. “How about a little friendly one-on-one? Winners pick for a prize later tonight.” I hesitated. I knew he’d ask for something ridiculous if he won…something degrading. However…I could see this working to my advantage. Humiliating him ought to get him off my back. Even if neither of us followed through, I could still walk away with my dignity. “You’re on-” I had barely started out when he barreled at me, knocking me on my back and straddling my chest. As he sat atop me, my frame seized up slightly. I didn’t feel capable of movement, though his cold-heat hands were not so much restraining my arms to the mat as caressing my biceps. “Told you that I liked being on top.” He smirked, his light blue eyes going dark, hungry. Feral. As he sat atop me, a feeling of intense violation rolled through me, like he was groping me intimately through the fabric of both the singlet and my underwear, though I could see both of his hands. His body rippled for a second, and as I felt waves of pleasure shoot through me, I could see a slight shift of his body. I felt cold chills, but his embrace was hot. His patronizing grin widened, and I watched from beneath him as he seemed to get more substantial. It had to just be my imagination, but I could swear that he actually GROWING… Though I claimed deceit from my eyes, his body seemed to stretch longer in his singlet, the fabric audibly stretching with the sound of the elastic being pulled too taut as he gained several inches in height. His arms, though barely flexing to support himself above me, flexed as his biceps mounded with strength, veins and mounds of muscle appearing where only small indents had existed previously. My eyes roamed his chest, his abs and pecs becoming more visible through the singlet with every passing moment. His four pack finally gaining enough size to qualify as a true 6 pack, tone and definition abound as the crevices ran deeper, his pecs becoming a decent shelf above them, ballooning with size and nearly ruining the straps keeping his singlet in place. As quickly as he’d pinned me and tapped me out for the ten second win, the exchange ended. “I’ll be back for the rest tonight.” He leaned down and whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. Patting my abs as he rose to a height that was just barely larger than before, but definitely larger, he walked off to the locker room, leaving me on the ground, sweaty, confused, and with a surprising amount of cum in my boxers. I lay there in a puddle of my own making and watched as he rose to a height just slightly taller than before, patting my abs before walking away, leaving me there, shell-shocked from our little encounter. His ass now perfectly filling out his singlet, my eyes lingered just a little too long as he turned one final time, smirked, and left the room. After a few moments I managed to peel myself off the floor and onto my feet, feeling very off-kilter, as if the ceiling had been raised. My own body felt foreign to me. I turned to faced one of the mirror walls along the sides of the room, and though I still looked impressive, subtle differences were apparent to me as my hands explored my previously immaculately chiseled body. Where I used to be ripped and defined seemed a little rounder, softer than before. Creases separating the tiles of mirror along the walls seemed more out of reach than before. I tried to shake the buzzing thoughts from my mind, trying to convince myself it was all in my head as I undressed and stepped into the showers after making sure John had gone. I started massaging the soap into my sweaty mass, thinking about how he seemed to just, expand on top of me. The vision of him made my length harden, and I couldn’t help but start to stroke myself under the steamy water. That same feeling of confusion took full focus once more when something felt a little different about my strokes. I looked down, and realized that my cock isn’t up to its usual eight and a quarter inches. “Fuck me, this can’t be happening…” The thought of being having lost size has me finishing all over the tiles beneath my feet, soap and cum washing down the drain as I finish rinsing off, stepping out of the shower and toweling myself dry. I look up at the clock by coach’s office, realizing I’m already thirty minutes late for my first class, shoving my clothes on, which aren’t near as snug as they’d been when I’d changed out of them not an hour earlier, and run across campus. I can barely concentrate for the next five hours, but by the time my last class ends I’ve finally convinced myself that I’d just let the little punk get in my head. I stop by one of the bathrooms in the cafeteria as I finish my dinner, flexing to my reflection, hyping myself up before walking back to the dorm Fuck yeah I think to myself, anyone would kill to have this body! I enter the dorm room confident, relieved to find the room empty. I peel my clothes off, exhausted after a long day, nothing but my boxer briefs on, closing my eyes as I fold my arms behind my head, drifting dreamlessly until I’m suddenly awoken by the door creaking open. I blink blearily up at the top bunk, the sheets around me soaked. I look at my wall-mounted alarm clock in the dim moon-light from the windows, looking at the clock: 11 at night. I hear the water running in the bathroom, and my heart starts pounding. John. I get up quickly, trying to make as little noise as possible while stumbling around trying to put on clothes that didn’t quite fit right anymore. Everything around me felt taller than I remembered them. My clothes looked slightly oversized where just this morning they had looked almost TOO snug. I look down, puzzled. I’m supposed to have an eight-pack, right? Where eight hard bricks of muscle had once occupied, six, less impressive bulges took their place. My pecs, also, didn’t quite obscure my view of them, as they usually did. I think back to today’s events, the feeling of dread I felt at being defeated by John in an area I should have creamed him in…and I can’t quite remember what happened after that. I remember John bragging to one of our teammates about his win against me in the lockers afterward, and then, my memories of the day skip to class. Brent, my lab partner caught me up on some of the new terms (I’d slacked on summer reading in favor of training, not my best decision, as I’d plateaued in my gains) and I’d tried my hardest to not fall asleep during the lecture. All day after the match I’d been exhausted and lethargic… “Hey bro.” John’s voice startled me out of my memories, and looking at him reminded me why I was trying to hurry out the door so quickly. John stood completely naked in the doorway, a wicked grin on his face, muscles slick with water droplets from his shower, hair combed back, and every carved muscle deeper than when I’d first encountered him. “Glad you didn’t bail on me.” He said, drying his hair and then tossing his towel to the ground. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun tonight.” My real memory swiftly returned to me, leaving me damn near breathless. He’d sat on me, pinning me to the mat. He’d grown. But something still seemed off. I’d been much bigger this afternoon. Now, I looked up at him now a couple inches taller and ripped beyond comprehension. It was hard to believe that in the course of a day, he’d outpaced me by such a wide margin. His abs were chiseled, his pecs jutted out in a hard shelf above them, and something I hadn’t quite noticed before, a small tattoo on his neck that looked like the outline of a diamond. It was stark against his now tanned skin, a marvel that I hadn’t noticed it before. His whole face had transformed into something more rugged. His blond hair and boy next door looks were giving way to something far darker, masculine, and powerful. His jawline was sharper, his blond hair darkening at the roots, and the stubbly beginning of a real man’s beard growing on what was once a baby-smooth face. His body hair seemed to have thickened also, the place between his pectorals sprouting a neat tuft that caught the water from his shower, a neat trail disappearing to meet his length, now even more massive soft than it had been earlier today. Six inches? Closer to seven now, and easily 9 inches hard. John knocked me out of my daydream with a clearing of his throat. “Well, you didn’t bail out on me. I believe our wager was winner’s pick for prize…” He looks at me with eyebrows raised and a smile that could get men thrice my size on their knees. “But-” I stuttered, trying to come up with the words to describe the reality of our present situation. “Doesn’t matter. A deal’s a deal when you’re playing a stranger’s game Bud. I learned that the hard way.” At his words, the lights flickered, the loud rumble of thunder resounding from outside, and sudden draft chilling the room. I tried to make myself move, but pure fear had me frozen to the floor. He walked up to me, his chin in my direct line of sight, thick veins protruding from his vascular neck, tracing into his arms and down his chest. He brings a hand to my waist, slipping it beneath the waistband, and grabs my right ass cheek, his other hand moving across my stomach, teasing my abs, running his thumbs across my pecs, before finally deciding where to start. His left hand grips my trap, squeezing down and applying as much force as necessary to get me groaning in pain. The worst part about the whole thing was not being able to struggle against it. My whole body had locked up, just like the wrestling match, my upper body strained as he squeezed down, until my will gave. I could feel everything slipping. My ass took up less of the space in his hand, finally making him adjust to the small of my back. His other hand, losing the ability to squeeze my trap as it disappeared into my shoulder, found purchase on my arm, squeezing my shoulder, moving down to caress my dwindling biceps as they too slipped out of my grasp. The sensation of falling, shorter and shorter, my eyes having to look farther up as I lost inches, and then feet of height to him. Knots had begun to curl my stomach as the theft robbed me of my core, each remaining brick from our last encounter now smoothing over, my pecs following shortly after. My legs that I’d poured so much effort into over the summer were half the size they’d been to begin with. And my cock, which had stuck with me thus far, dwindled, shrinking to 7, then 6, then 5, all the way until I was left with nothing but a nub. As I kept dwindling in height, I got closer and closer to his cock, which was now impossible to measure with just my eyes. It had to be at least a foot long now, and nearly as my old arms. His abs, as they absorbed my size, pushed farther outward, each mound standing out against the others. His pectorals engulfed some of my view of his face, my new stature completely beyond the capacity to see that far up his body without standing back. Looking up at him, he seemed to revel in my loss of power. His hungry eyes roved around each part of my body as it gave up its mass to feed his ascent to power. He made a show of testing out each muscle as it grew on him, jacking his cock as he looked on at me, like his personal slut. I felt the drain cease as my legs gave out, my newly minted twink form starved of almost all muscle tone. It almost hurt to breathe. As I looked over my body, even the air around me felt painful. But god, my fucking cock...it was about the only thing on me that hurt in a good way. A strange way. My balls couldn’t be larger than marbles, but they ached to blow one...more.... I moaned, convulsing, as my last, final jock load exploded out of me, blasting cum on both of us, pooling on my stomach and making a mess all the way up his body, even catching in his stubble. My final view as I passed out was John posing in victory; He flexed his new, massive biceps, veins running the length of his arm, his foot smooshing into the puddle of cum on my chest as he held me down on the floor, where I belonged. He smirked, leaning forward and licking a large splotch of my load off his bicep. “Much better.” Coach. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had just been tidying up the office, getting ready to head off for the day, when what could only be the biggest troublemaker I’d ever had the displeasure of tutoring walked through my door, shutting it closed behind him. “So…it worked.” John folded his arms in front of me, raising an arm and demonstrating his newly minted gains. I clear my throat, looking up at him. “When I said you need to be serious about gaining, taking from other students was not what I had in mind. I paired you with him so you could mimic him, not use him.” He snorted, leaning up against the wall. “Some star pupil. Definitely no genius. He was so easy. Hell, I’m fairly sure he has the hots for me.” He waggles his brows. “I freed you from the rest of the rabble on that god forsaken rock so you could help me do my research, not make my students your food. Do you know how hard it’s been, writing off all my grant money to pay for all of this?” John gives me a look, his eyes going completely black before he shifts into his true form, a tan, dark haired twink of a demonic being now standing just below my height. His voice echoed weirdly, as if there were three different men speaking at once. “I am not ungrateful for your services rendered to me. I simply…want for a few more liberties. My existence has been barred to this one, singular place of existence. This “campus” is as far as my power reaches, for the moment, shrouded from the rest of the world. I crave more.” He saunters closer, his near nakedness in just a loincloth making me a little less than comfortable. “Stay back.” I command, pulling a white, opalescent rod from my pocket, earning me a glare. “You know I don’t partake of a man that will not have of me.” “I’d still feel better if you give me some distance. Especially after seeing what you did to Nick.” He chuckles, a darker, single deep rumble ringing out rather than his usual echo. “He’s but one king-turned-pawn in the grand scheme at work here. “Just… how badly will this affect him?” “He won’t remember much of what’s happened today. No one will ask questions while they’re in my domain. After all, my word is law.” We both hear the showers going, Nick finally having gotten off his ass to clean himself up. It was strange, knowing this’d be the last time I see the kid this size. “Well, I’m off to finish my meal.” I see the guise of ‘John’ re-emerge, muscles still as full as they had been a moment ago, his playful eyes the golden ambrosia of the Lex I’d freed, rather than the blue he’d worn today. “Catch you later big guy.” As he fades into the shadow, I put on my jacket and make myself scarce, locking the office and further horrors away behind me. It was far too late to have doubts. To be Continued...
  24. Guest

    Hot Cop Training

    It was the first day at my police officer posting. I had finished my training in the prestigious police academy and now i was ready to take on my first job. But i wasn’t just any police officer. I was trained, groomed and bred to be a “Hot Cop” Of course we were trained in basic police duties, we all knew how to catch a criminal and apprehend them. We could shoot well with a gun and hit even harder with a baton. But our main job was simply to look “HOT” To be a “Hot Cop” you had to picked. Just like a runway fashion male model, you had to be facially good looking, at least 6 feet tall and athletically built with extra points for bodybuilders and muscled men. Of course we all knew they selected you based on how cocky you could be, how deep your voice was, how manly you behaved and how large your cock size was. Our job was to intimidate and impress. We were encourage to be cocky to the public to show how alpha the police force was. We were told to fuck as many chicks and whimy guys to give the impression of a hot blooded fuckboy police force. We had to make the police force look powerful and we did it to perfection. However as this would be my first official posting i was assigned to have a mentor who would guide me in one last phrase to be the perfect Hot Cop. His name was Officer Chad, and he was everything i heard of about him. He greeted he while still having his morning breakfast before giving me a cocky bicep flex. He smirked at me before whistling into the air. I could hear the sound of chains and floor thumps as a figure crawled on the floor towards us. This was to be my last phrase of hot cop training. Hot cops ultimate way of demonstrating power and dominance was to overpower our K9 Slaves. Similarly to hot cop’s jobs to showcase power, K9 slaves were groomed and bred to be submissive, subservient and to increase the police force status as an Alpha Organisation. Look how much more alpha Officer Chad is with his lowly naked slave next to him. Absolutely overpowering! Not to say he wasn’t overpowering without his slave. The news about him being a champion bodybuilder had to be true as i gazed at the sheer size of his body. It was like muscles built on top of even more muscles. He was so cocky and obnoxious wile posing showing off his tanned golden body to me i swear i nearly ejaculated when he gave me a cheeky smirk. FUCK! Over the next few days i found out i had to keep jerking off every morning before i met him for slave training lessons because if i didnt, i would certainly embarrass myself during my time with him by shooting off simply from being in the presence of his manly muscular scent. Once i did not jerk of in the morning and the moment he raised his arms to reveal his pits, the smell and the sight of it all immediate had me cumming in my pants. It was so embarrassing for me. But i could only watch while Officer Chad laughed to himself and raised his biceps into a pose. He than kissed his own bicep. And i came again… FUCK!!!!!! Of course my time with him was not just about controlling my erections and ejaculations from his Alpha hotness. I was also expected to learn the ways in managing my future K9 slave. As it was just my first week Officer Chad decided he would not start the lessons proper but instead allow me to relax and fit into my role slowly by observing him. Some of the interesting actives i observed him doing with his slave included patrol walks with his slave and the way he fed his K9 slave exactly like a K9 dog. Very Interesting! The biggest notable difference i could gather between a free hot cop and an enslaved K9 slave was the privilege of being able to wear clothes and having hair. Of course this was something most free people would know. Slaves are mere property and since K9 slaves are owned by the individual hot cop they had no privilege like free men to wear clothes and were forced to keep a shaved head. Of course the owner of the K9 slave such as Officer Chad had the power to determine if the slave had to wear chains or any bondage. I noticed from observation how the slave always had a blindfold on and was forbidden from saying anything other than “Yes Sir” and “No Sir” Sometimes the slave would rebel slightly or say something he was not supposed to. Of course he would be punished and Officer Chad was a strict and downright cruel slave master. Because of the many new laws preventing slave owners from physically hitting their slaves like previously slapping them repeatedly. Officer Chad has decided that the best way to punish his K9 slave was to humiliate him. When the K9 slave said something he was not supposed to he had his mouth gagged and tapped up for a day forcing him to remain in silence while he was dragged to the nearby park to have his asshole openly sold to willingly buyers who would then openly fuck him. Most used their own cocks but some took oversize toys and stuck them up his man hole while he was forced to cry in silence under his mouth gag from his ass getting ripped and having everyone around watching him laugh loudly at him. I had to give it to him, Officer Chad was quite the smart guy to use humiliation on his slave as such an effective tool! To celebrate the end of my first day as his new trainee I decided to buy him drinks after our patrols were done. We got totally wasted drinking shots and i finally got the courage to ask him if i could feel up his body. I guessed he was too high and drunk and he allowed me to not only feel up his manly hot blooded muscles, but also to let me suck him off. It was such an amazing experience. To feel my tongue all over his warm cock head before allowing him to push my head down his man stick. To hear him moan and yell in all that manly estacy simply made me harder. His was so dominating. Demanding i call him “SIR” and “MASTER” like how a slave would. I of course complied. I was an Alpha hot cop too. But in the prescience of Officer Chad, i was simply his “inferior” Plus it made me even harder knowing he was enjoying it. His final roar was something i could not forget. It was raw, powerful and Alpha in all essence. He shot ropes and ropes and endless ropes into my mouth as i swallowed his creamy protein shake down my throat. All the while i was also ejaculating my cream in estacy. As the pleasure died down he closed his eyes and huffed and puffed loudly like only an Alpha Male would. He was drunk, high, tired and his body completely drained of all energy from fucking my mouth. And yet he still looked powerful, strong and his cock still hard, stiff and erected. It was beautiful to see an Alpha Male in his sleeping state. Just before slipping out of his office room he turned to me looking drunk and smelling of cum and vodka. He told me he forgot to chain his K9 slave up and asked me to have him chained properly before collapsing into deep sleep. I nodded before running to the nearby toilet to puke from all that alcohol. I then ran out of the police station and grabbed a cab back to my apartment. 2 Days Later I swear i would never drink so much again. I had a massive hangover and my mind was dizzy from all that drinking over the past 2 days.I spent most of the past 2 days in bed sleeping off my hangover. But it was the start of the new week and i had to go to work again. And strangely i was happy about it. It was my chance to see Officer Chad again. Plus i was glad i could finally start slave training proper. My cock was getting harder from the idea of seeing Officer Chad again in his full glory with his police uniform and suave lustrous hair. And that disgustingly bald K9 slave below his feet waiting to be humiliated by him again. I couldn’t wait… But what greeted me was the complete opposite. There was police officer holding a slave by his neck indeed. But the officer was short, skinny, weak looking and looking very pale. He did not look the part of a hot cop at all. In fact the only signs of authority and Alpha status was his dark policeman sunglasses he was wearing while controlling his much larger, taller and powerfully built slave. The slave was bound all over, arms tied to the back and legs tied to the point where he had to crawl on the ground like a dog. He had a blindfold on his face and a large metal bondage gag opening his mouth but restricting him from saying anything but muffled noises and pig like sequels. That did not stop him however from making loud inaudible noises when he sensed i was near. It almost seemed like he was trying to communicate with me. Upon noticing the bound slave’s increased attention to me through his noises, the officer grabbed the slaves long thick hair, pulled his head up to face him and slapped him across his face continuously all the while the slave was yelling in pain. It was weird though that the slave had hair and the officer was completely bald. When i questioned the officer where Officer Chad was, he simply replied to me that he was in fact Officer Chad! I was so confused and nothing made sense to me. It wasn’t possible! He than replied to me that I had been stressed out during the first week of training and i had resorted to constant drinking from not performing up to par. I was sent home from over drinking last week and even puked all over the police station before i left. He then made me understood that i was in a drunken state last week and i would not have remembered much. Which meant that it was all simply a dream! It all makes sense now. How could i have been so stupid to think my first week was so perfect. I then questioned him why he would slap the slave as it was against the law. He then congratulated me saying it was a test to see if i remembered i should not physically hurt the slave in future. He then complemented me saying that i remembered my lessons and was becoming a better student! He also forgave my poor performance last week and encouraged me to be a better trainee. I never felt better! Officer Chad than started his K9 slave training by sitting down calmy on a chair and forced his slave to crawl on the ground towards him. He than starts by asking what we should do to properly punish the slave for being so verbal and yelling through his mouth gag. I know i was in a drunken state last week but i remembered a few details on such a punishment. I recommended gagging him with a dildo bondage placed in his mouth instead and a larger blindfold over his eyes. I then helped Officer Chad in dragging the over rebellious slave to the nearby park where we sold his asshole to willing buyers. He was fucked in his man hole continuously by various men and even some women who wanted to try raping his asshole with dildos of various sizes just to see how much he would yell. The yells and muffled noises from the slave was simply delightful. To know the slave was being put in his place was such a wonderful sight. Officer Chad than instructed me that the next phrase of slave training was to ensure the slave looked like one. He said that he himself did not like the idea of himself as a hot cop looking smaller and weaker than his much larger and muscular slave. I was to make sure the slave was made to starve and being given the bare minimum in food. This would ensure the slave would start to lose his muscle mass and shrink physically. I did this by feeding the slave a diet of low protein porridge which i of course threw on the ground and made him lick it all up. By doing this we are also teaching the slave his proper place on the ground and to show him that humiliation is a way of life for him. Sometimes Officer Chad would allow the slave to eat of a dog bowl. But only because he wanted to snap photos of the slave being humiliated. It was interesting how Officer Chad seemed to be more interested in humiliating the slave than to simply hit him. There were things that could not simply be changed such as Officer Chad’s short height and smaller cock size. However with the permission of the Police HQ’s funds we managed to book a body swap section where we successfully transferred the slave’s taller height and monster cock over to Officer Chad instead. You should have seen how distraught the slave was when we told him the news he would permanently be 5′2 in height and his cock reduced to a small dicklette. He of course could only protest through his mouth gag. Officer Chad by now was starting to look more like a hot cop officer. He had previously found a stash of the “previous” hot cop officer’s gym equipment together with boxes of protein shakes and mass gainers. Officer Chad emphasized how important it was to hit the gym daily. He believed that as free man we should take this god given opportunity to be the Alpha man we were born to be unlike slaves. He would train in the gym like a mad gym rat and i was actually starting to like how his body was turning out to be… He was still bald and i could not understand why his hair would not grow. But god damm was his body turning out to be a a delicious piece of art. I looked forward daily to the hour he would come back from the gym all sweaty and stinky. All he needed to do was to lift his arms up and that smell…. Fuck…. Cumming…. By now the reversal was complete. Officer Chad was looking like the hot cop he was destined to be. And boy was he proud of it. The cocky and arrogant attitude that was less obvious from him weeks ago had started to envelop him like a plague. He would stare at the mirror all day long and take selfies of himself all day. He wore sunglasses to the gym looking like a complete douche alpha musclehead. But fuck was is douchiness making me go crazy hard. Don’t even let me get started on the way he would treat his K9 slave. He enjoyed humiliating him for some reason. Its as if sometimes he was more interested in personally humiliating the slave than to teach me how to handle the slave. The K9 slave was never allowed to walk or eat like a human. He was permanently made to crawl and eat of a bowl like a dog at all times. A mouth gag prevented him from ever speaking properly except making pathetic pig like noises which he did almost all the time. You could tell the slave did not like his lowly position he was born into and desired to be a free man. He was in absolute open rebellion against his master and i could tell how much pleasure this was giving to Officer Chad. In a sick way, Officer Chad was teaching me to be a better slave handler. Officer Chad understood that the one thing the slave wanted was to be treated like a human and used it against him. He repeatedly stated that as much as slaves thought themselves human and wanted equal rights they should have none. In fact they should be constantly reminded of their lowly birth rights For example adding dog ears on his slave during weekly police patrols.While officer Chad strides proudly on his horse tall and cocky, his slave should be taught to respect his authority and know he is simply akin to a dog made to crawl on the road. Officer Chad knew this humiliation was destroying his slave’s spirit. And he would continue to do so until his slave became completely subservient. And i have come to realize that this was the lesson i was supposed to learn from Officer Chad. No slave is rebellious for long. Break their spirits. And be the Hot Cop Master you were born to be
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