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  1. mmvmgo2011

    Vaccinated - A Continuation

    Hi all. Been offline for WAY too long now. I hopefully have a bit of spare time again, so I’ve revisited some of the characters and continuing Vaccinated. (And, yes, I have other stories on the go - haven't forgotten.) If you haven’t read it, you’ll almost certainly get more out of this one if you read that one first. A refresher might be helpful too, as there will probably be lots of callbacks and interwoven story lines. Obviously heavy spoilers here if you haven’t yet read the first one. Consider this a continuation following on immediately from the events in the first story, before the Epilogue. Events here may or may not progress matters to the same point in that Epilogue - so a sort of alternate history. Hope you enjoy. As before, I only have a vague outline of a story - I’m making the rest of it up as I go along, so fair warning, the story could include almost anything. If you’re easily offended or triggered, then maybe avoid this one. I welcome any feedback and will work in any suggestions you might have as it goes along. Delivery will likely be a fair bit slower than in the past, but I’ll try my best to keep chapters coming in on the regular. ~~ONE~~ Jake’s timing was exquisite; perfection. He could feel the crescendo, the approaching tsunami about to break, and he wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to experience the pleasure his partner’s ejaculation was about to unleash on his dick. Undulating, peristaltic waves of muscular contractions milking his shaft, coaxing the breeding load from deep within his heaving, roiling balls. Jake’s cock fully plugged the tunnel, his cock’s sensitivity heightened by the tight embrace along the entire shaft from tip to pubic bone. He pulled back slowly, deliberately, the head of his massive cock raking against the tunnel’s walls, tweaking the prostate, eliciting a deep, resonant growl in his partner that vibrated throughout his entire body, increasing the sensations and bringing the coming flood to the brink. He stopped as the head reached the opening, enjoying the feeling of the ring of muscle quivering against his fraenulum, his partner’s growl increasing. Jake’s heavy, pendulous balls seethed, ready to unleash their prodigious load. Squatting slightly, he adjusted the angle of his cock so the head would smash his partner’s prostate as he rammed in all fourteen inches down to the pubic bone. The separate muscles of his massive quads stood out in stark relief, vascularity pulsating and engorged, the massive root running along his inner thigh branching out to feed power to every muscle. He flexed his cock, watching, enraptured, as it swelled even bigger, became even harder, the veins flooding it with blood, steeling the shaft and sending bolts of exquisite pleasure spreading throughout his godly body. Jake’s core tightened, the globes of his perfect arse contracting and squeezing as he slammed his cock in as far as it would go, and then further. As he smashed past the prostate, the tsunami was triggered. It was Jake’s turn to groan, as his partner’s orgasm and ejaculation began, massive waves spreading up his shaft, tingling, more bolts of electric pleasure sending him wild. As Jake slammed in as far as it would go, his balls slapped into his partner’s arse, his orgasm contracting and pulsating muscles throughout his pelvic floor. The hole clamped shut around the base of Jake’s shaft, a natural cock ring further swelling and hardening the already diamond-hard cock. As it swelled, his massive cock pushed harder against the walls of the tunnel, increasing the strength of the muscular contractions as it struggled to contain and eject the monster invading its depths. Jake’s eyes rolled back as his partner’s cock pumped out splashes of thick, creamy cum. As the first few arcs of cum splattered against his partner’s pecs and abs, a large glob settling in his thick, dark beard, Jake allowed himself to ejaculate, his own muscular contractions mingling with those of his partner, heightening their ecstasy. Jake’s balls, so eager to unleash their load, rose up, and his cock somehow swelled and hardened even more as his ejaculation began. The pressure exerted along the length of his cock, and especially by the ring of muscles clamped around the base of his shaft made it more difficult for his cum to make it through all fourteen inches, causing high pressure spurting jets of cum to spray deep within, the massive load contained by the swollen head plugging the tunnel. Even as they both continued ejaculating, Jake leaned in for a deep, passionate kiss, the taste of cum on his lips adding to his explosive wave of orgasms. *** “Get out,” Jake said, as he stood up and went to shower. “Fuck, mate,” he breathed heavily, still recovering from the orgasm, “you were mind blowi–” “I said, get out.” He didn’t even turn back. “Can I at least get your number? I don’t even know your name…” He trailed off, distracted by the incredible view of Jake’s naked body walking to the en suite. The X shape, his glorious arse cheeks, sitting atop massive ham-hock hamstrings, the sweep of his quads visible even from behind, his back muscles mounding and rippling as he walked, roadmap veins - everywhere he looked, splendour upon perfection. Jake ignored him. The cumrag, having served his purpose, already forgotten. Despite his swelling dick - how could you not get hard at that view, he thought? - he hurriedly dressed, the cum covering his abs and chest already drying, sticking to his shirt, and left. **** Brad, Amber and HE were sitting in Brad’s living room, regrouping and discussing the recent events and the fallout. “Can you still sense him?” Amber asked. They all knew which 'him' she was referring to. “Yes…” He hesitated, “…he’s having sex.” It was a very odd sensation, having his best friend’s subconscious as a stream in part of his brain. Despite everything, Amber and HE both blushed. Amber, in particular, was still trying to process her feelings about Jake. She could not let go of the fact that they meshed perfectly, their sex on a level she had never, and almost certainly would never, experience again. But, equally, she could not forget his treatment of her. His callous disregard, the violence against her without so much as a second thought. Yes, he was under the effects of the vaccine, but was that merely amplifying an existing tendency? She did not know, and the conflict was gnawing at her. What made it worse, she could never discuss it with him. Jake could not - must not! - ever know or be reminded of his rampage. They all feared if he learned what they did – what he did – that he would try to regain his abilities, and his reign of terror would resume. She nuzzled into Brad’s strong, comforting embrace, his Herculean arm around her. He was no Jake, it was true, but he was kind and loving, the sex was fantastic (though, of course, not the perfection she had with Jake), and his body was phenomenal. And, yet, she still could not shake the thought and feelings - he was no Jake. **** As Jake’s orgasm erupted in a corner of Brad’s brain, his own dick chubbed, and his mind wandered, lustful thoughts – of tits, of arse, of legs for days, of vascularity and muscle – flooded his brain, like cumshots pumping hot man cream, flooding holes. Amber nuzzled into him, the feel of her pert, luscious tits pressing into him causing lustful fire to tingle through him, making a beeline for his cock. He smiled. Not for the first time he silently thanked Jake, his best friend and, in many ways, his saviour. If Jake had not convinced him to break his vow of celibacy, he would not have met Amber. Not since Angelina had he felt such feelings for a woman. Amber would never replace Angelina - nobody ever could - but Amber was a mighty fine substitute.
  2. countmuscle

    Freshman Roommate (Part 5)

    Longer one, hope you enjoy! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 5: Summer break arrived, grim as a prison sentence. To be away from Frank for mere hours felt like torture. Especially now that I was a full-blown roid pig, and my sex drive was insatiable. How was I going to survive back home for three months? For his part, Frank was just as upset. He had to stay on campus for football training — same dorm room, no me. “Will you promise me something?” he asked on my last day, as we lay in bed together. I was tracing my fingers through the violent grooves of his eight pack. “Of course, what is it?” I was expecting him to ask me to remain faithful, to not mess around with other guys. Now that I looked like this, I attracted leers anywhere I went, from men and women alike. Everyone wanted me. But that’s not what Frank was talking about. “Don’t stop lifting and growing this summer,” he said. “I want to see you get even bigger. I want you to keep eating, keep cycling. Stay focused on muscle all summer. All day, every day. Come back even bigger than you are now. Come back so big, people will gasp when they see you. So big they won’t even recognize you. James, your body has already responded better than I had hoped. You’re a hunk now, but I can make you a freak. A muscle freak. So huge. We’ll make you so big. 290, maybe even 300 pounds. Oh my god bro... Fuck....Big as a pro bodybuilder. Bigger. The two of us. Waddling around campus. Fucking and fucking nonstop. Two muscle freaks. One tall, one short. Sex every hour. All that muscle. Muscle, sex. Roids. Fucking beasts. Huge. So huge. Muscle, big muscle, so strong, so much muscle, so much musc-- oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck James! I can’t handle it. Holy shit! UNHHHH!” Frank grabbed behind my neck with one huge hand, and stuck his tongue down my mouth forcefully. At the same moment, his dick sprayed a huge load without warning or even any touch. Rope after rope shot up and landed in Frank’s beard and on his veiny neck. I counted 8 ropes! All while he kissed me passionately -- almost desperately. This happened anytime Frank talked about my muscle growth. Nothing turned him on more, not even his own muscular development. The second he started to envision me growing bigger, he'd burn beet red, wheeze loudly. His eyes would unfocus and look manic. His cock would shoot up as fast as a soldier's salute. As a rule, he'd eventually devolve into muttering "muscle" over and over again, like an incantation, until he came spontaneously. These would always be his biggest loads (which is really saying something). Each time Frank spiraled like this, his fantasies got more extreme. First it was bulking me up to 230 pounds, now it was 300. Of course, I couldn't have been more turned on either. I loved watching him lose control like this. I also started to realize that these fantasies could actually become a reality. I was almost 19, and already 225 pounds. To become a genuine mass monster, even a professional bodybuilder, suddenly felt plausible, especially while Frank was around. Laying beside him, I stroked my bulging pecs, arms, shoulders, quads, glutes... I was still blown away by their size. I soon came a load almost as large as Frank's. His fantasy was now my reality, my goal. -- So I had my marching orders for the summer. I also had (thanks to Frank) a year's worth of tren packed in my suitcase. With a heavy heart, it was time for me to head home. We had one last, incredible fuck session. Then another one. Then another one. Then finally, realizing I was about to miss my flight, I called an Uber and dashed off. Frank's dry cum still coated me underneath my super-tight clothes. The aroma of his pits was on my face in the cab, which gave me a throbbing boner the entire ride to the airport. I was 5'9, 18 y/o, 225 pounds. Tight denim jeans tearing inside the crotch. Light blue college t-shirt so tight you could see every ridge of my abs, both my nipples, my thick upper pecs almost touching my chin. Whenever I glanced at my reflection in a mirror or window, I was astonished at how wide I looked -- and also how obscene. Like a bodybuilder in the first minute of a gay porno, wearing ridiculous, undersized clothes. Stares from every direction as I rushed through the airport to board my plane. The gay flight attendant did a double take when he welcomed me on board. For a second, his mouth was agape. I winked, and he went red. I knew I looked like a fantasy cooked up in a lab. I approached my seat. A small, nerdy kid with glasses my same age -- no doubt on his way home from college as well -- regarded me with terror. I weighed a hundred pounds more than him, even though we were about the same height. As I stretched to stow my bag in the overhead bin, my tight shirt left my slightly hairy, washboard abs exposed. My bulging crotch was one inch from the kid's face. I'm sure he could smell the cum and sweat inside. I sat down beside him, my weight shaking the plane seat. All the color drained from his cheeks. The plane took off. The cabin lights dimmed, and almost everyone fell asleep. This was my first time in a plane seat since my "growth spurt." My shoulders and arms jutted well into the nerd's personal space. My hard tricep rubbed against his sad, noodley arm. I kept thinking how, just six months ago, I was this geek's size. We were probably the exact same age, yet I could do military presses with his body and not even break a sweat. Maybe even with one arm. I thought: Should I apologize for how much space I was taking up? I really was encroaching a full quarter into his seat. My bulging shoulder was digging into his tiny body. (The other one jutted into the aisle, so no one could pass by without brushing it.) My arm wasn't even on the arm rest, that's how wide I was. Then I noticed that the nerd was awkwardly covering up a boner in his lap. "Heh," I laughed under my breath. I turned my bulging neck and looked him in the eyes. I winked. He went as red as a firetruck. Now I was feeling arrogant. Discreetly, without anyone noticing, I grabbed his wrist and laid it on my bicep. I flexed, and the little nerd squeezed as hard as he could. (Not very.) Then I guided his tiny arm up under my shirt. I let him feel my pecs. I bounced them up and down as he groped them pathetically. His grip suddenly weakened. "Uff!" he whimpered. I saw a dark spot growing in his pants. My huge muscles had just made him cum. "Good boy," I whispered, and pushed him away, before anyone noticed. Fun as this mile-high muscle worship was, I was already missing Frank. I scrolled through the hundreds of X-rated pictures and videos of him on my phone, both heartbroken and incredibly aroused. Pics of us together when I was just 180 pounds, and he was 375. Videos of me pounding him doggy style, his back muscles jiggling. I could feel the nerd's prying eyes on my screen. I stumbled upon a recent, shirtless, chest-up picture of Frank, from his 430-pound era. He was smiling, as handsome as a movie star, but his furry pecs and shoulders looked so shockingly pumped that the nerd gasped. "Your...boyfriend?" he asked meekly. "You could say that," I replied. "Oh my God. He's... huge," he whispered, looking at Frank's picture in disbelief. He was spellbound. Now I had a painful erection. I lowered the seat back tray to hide it. But my heart was heavy. Three months apart. It sunk in. What if Frank found someone new? Someone even bigger than me? Vague jealousy burned like flames in my mind. I felt more motivated than ever to grow this summer. I'd come back so huge that Frank would be shocked, so big he could never find someone hotter than me. So big, so fucking big, so much muscle... my mind looped and looped, just like Frank's. Maybe it was the tren. The nerd watched as I took out a two-pound Tupperware container. Ground chicken, brown rice. 120 grams protein. It was a four-hour flight, and I had three of these meals to eat. -- To say my parents were horrified would be an understatement. At the airport, they didn't even recognize me at first. "It's me, it's James," I assured them. Even my voice was deepened by the roids. They hugged me like I was a science-fiction monster, confused and alarmed. You have to remember that the last time they had seen me, just six months prior, I was a lean, 155-pound kid. Now I was 225 pounds. I had told them I was bigger, that I'd been lifting, but not much else. Now, their charming, sensitive, academically inclined son was a roided-out meathead, more muscular than a Chippendale's dancer. Voice deeper, face wider but still jarringly boyish on a thick neck that stretched my shirt collar. Obscene, veiny muscles bulging everywhere -- ass, shoulders, pecs, arms, traps -- beastly, erotic bulges attracting stares from all corners. The next few days were pretty awful. Long fights ensued. Vehement lectures about the dangers of steroids (which I denied using, lol). Insistence that I see a psychiatrist for "bigorexia." But I knew what body dysmorphia was, and I didn't have it. I didn't think I was small. I thought I was huge. And I loved it. And now the only thing I wanted was to get bigger. All my parents’ anxieties and pressure didn’t amount to much when I thought of the sweaty, hairy, 430-pound muscle bottom that was waiting for me back at school. Frank’s special kind of madness had infected me. Logical reason fell by the wayside. All that mattered anymore was muscle and sex. With horror, it dawned on my parents that not only had I transformed utterly...I wasn't finished yet! I hadn't lined up a single thing to do that summer except train and eat and cycle on more and more gear. No internship, no summer job, no friends or social life even. Just gym and consuming shocking amounts of protein, day in, day out. Every now and then, I might come across a hulking gorilla at the gym or on Grindr, and I'd fuck their brains out. But those were my only, occasional distractions. If that was cheating on Frank, then it hardly counted, because Frank had spoiled me for sex. Guys smaller than 230 pounds no longer interested me -- and even when I found a roided-out muscle bottom, he'd never have a cock as massive and beautiful as Frank's was, or a face as handsome, or lips as soft. By my 19th birthday, late in June, I was 235 -- up a full ten pounds from my last weigh-in, and yet leaner and more defined than ever. My parents pretty much cut me off. They'd still pay for college in the fall, they said, but they didn't want to underwrite the money I was spending on food and new clothes and probably steroids that summer. Yet I soon realized that I could make a fortune doing cam shows, just flexing and jerking off for ridiculous rates, and could even raise my prices as I grew bigger and freakier each week. (Being hung didn’t hurt either.) So money became a non-issue. It poured in. In fact, I was making more than my parents did, unbeknownst to them. By early August, I was 250 pounds, a number that shocked even me. By then, my largest shirts fit like crop tops and left my well-defined abs exposed. Finally, my parents put their foot down. Either I see a psychiatrist, or they would stop paying my tuition. Reluctantly, I agreed. Through a stroke of luck, this ultimatum totally backfired on them. Within seconds of meeting my handsome, 30-something psychiatrist ("call me Justin") I realized he was gay. I could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure as he looked me up and down. As soon as the door of his office closed, I literally tore off my shirt. I practically leapt over his desk and shoved his face in between my pecs, forced him to suck on my perfect nipples. I flexed a bicep (21 inches) and pushed it into his face. He moaned and slobbered all over my peak, then huffed my musky pits. I swiped all the stuff off his desk -- it crashed on the floor -- and I roughly laid him out on the surface. I picked him up and started doing military presses with his body, over and over, with perfect form. I could tell from the bulge in his pants how much he was loving my show of strength. Then I laid him down on the chaise lounge (where I was supposed to be in therapy). I sat on his face, and enjoyed the frantic, overwhelmed way he ate out my bubble butt, no doubt the most muscular one he had ever seen. The shrink quickly came in his nice slacks. But I wasn't through with him. I flipped around and shoved my 8-inch cock down his throat. At first he nearly choked, but eventually managed to suck me dry. My load was enormous. All this worship had made me more horned up than I'd been in months. I started to put my tattered, indecent clothes back on. "That's all the time we have for today," I joked as I walked out the door -- knowing he'd never forget how good my ass looked as I left. -- A few days later, I overheard Dr. Justin debriefing my parents on our session on speakerphone. "Mr. and Mrs. Keller, you have nothing to worry about. James shows no signs of body dysmorphia or any other psychiatric disorder. Bodybuilding is a perfectly legitimate sport, and you should be encouraging James for his dedication and hard work. In fact, I'm a little disappointed that you have been so dismissive of James's athletic goals." My mom fell for it, hook, line and sinker. "Oh, God, you're right. How could we have been so unsupportive? I feel terrible." But my dad raged. "Encouraging THIS!? But the boy looks like a FREAK!" “Mr. Keller, I don’t think words like ‘freak’ are helpful here.” "Honey, listen to the doctor. We need to support James." "But what about the steroids?!" "In my medical opinion, I see no signs that James is abusing steroids. After speaking with him, it is my belief that he simply has excellent adherence to his diet and exercise regimen -- as well as a genetic predisposition for muscular hypertrophy." "BUT HE'S GROWING FIVE POUNDS A WEEK! THE KID HAS 21-INCH ARMS!" "Ron! Don't second-guess the doctor. He's the expert here." "Well, all of this being said, I do think James would benefit from continuing therapy. Maybe you could send him back to my office?" -- Although my dad wasn't happy, that was the end of the fighting. My parents yielded to my increasingly extreme lifestyle and size. Emboldened, I dramatically increased my tren and macros, and by the end of the summer, I was teetering at 265 pounds, up a full 40 pounds since June, and 110 pounds since January. I wasn't just training my muscles… As long as I'd known Frank, I'd never been able to bottom for him. His 10.5" dick was too much for me. I couldn’t even get it inside me. So all summer, I was practicing with bigger and bigger toys, getting ready to ride his almost fist-sized cock the day we reunited. Even though Frank was on my mind constantly, we hadn't corresponded much. It was pointless to text or call him. He lived in the moment, whether lifting or eating or fucking or practicing, and barely looked at his phone. The messages I sent would sit unread for days, driving me into a frenzy of insecurity. The few messages I got back were dashed off in pidgin English. ("miss u 2 bro, iam jo 2u rn. still growin??") Sometimes I thought he was barely literate. Plus, there was a tacit understanding between us that we didn't want to reveal too much. We both wanted to be shocked by each other's growth when we finally reunited in person. Imagine what Frank is going to think when he sees me. That was all I thought, day in and day out, as I pounded protein shakes, pushed barbells, and pegged myself in my locked bedroom. One hot August afternoon, as a twelve-inch dildo ripped through my bubble butt, I came the biggest load of the whole summer, picturing the shock on Frank's face when he'd finally see me next week. -- The day came. I was returning to college for sophomore year. Unlike my last flight, this time, I knew I was far too big to fly coach. I just wouldn't fit. So I used some of my cam money to upgrade to First Class. Even in the larger seats, my lats spilled out comically. A tank top, barely a scrap of fabric, left half my pecs and both nipples completely exposed. It was pretty fun to watch the other passengers trudge by, the look of shock on their faces when they saw a 265-pound, 19-year old bodybuilder looking back at them arrogantly. I made sure they all had to brush past my veiny arm, which jutted into the aisle. Especially the nerds around my age, whom I took special pleasure in intimidating. I didn't eat any of the First Class food, though. I brought seven pounds of ground beef and rice in three huge Tupperware containers. Spent most of the flight stuffing my face, trying not to leak too much pre-cum thinking about my growing muscles -- and of the furry, wheezing, waddling mass monster that was waiting for me back on campus. Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank. After I was done eating my Tupperware meals, I started rubbing my bulging chest, flexing my arms, turned on by my own mass. The other people in First Class glared at me. I’ll admit, my behavior and appearance were pretty shocking. My dick got so painfully hard that I needed to rub one out. I stuffed myself into the airplane bathroom, barely able to close the door. I felt like a sardine. Then I looked in the mirror. I almost came on the spot. I could not believe how massive I had become. I pulled my cock out of my sweatpants and flopped it on the tiny bathroom counter. I looked back at my reflection and immediately orgasmed. I sprayed a load all over the little sink and mirror. I flexed for a few more minutes, totally stunned. I half-heartedly cleaned up the mess, then waddled back to my seat to drink a protein shake. — My flight had been delayed, and I got to our dorm quite late -- almost 2am. Everyone on campus was asleep. I stood outside our door. New year, same little cinder-block dorm room. We had pulled some strings to stay paired together another year. My heart pounded. I was completely hard. Just imagine what Frank will think when he sees me. Even as I reached for the door handle, the enlarged size of my veiny forearm caught my eye. A warm feeling surged through my cock. The room was pitch black. I heard Frank’s typical snoring and closed the door quietly, trying not to wake him. The scent of sweat and muscle and cum was overpowering, like a smack in the face. It conjured the countless fuckfests we'd had in the room over the past year. My dick throbbed with pleasure and anticipation. I even started moaning out loud, that's how horned up I felt. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. I realized the mattress was on the floor for some reason, no bed frame -- and the huge, dark mound on the mattress must be Frank. I set my bag down, then peeled off my clothes silently. Now I was completely naked. My dick was pulsating from Frank's pheromones and my months of waiting. I tiptoed towards the mattress in the center of the room, stepping on jock-straps, cum-stained bodybuilding mags, empty vials of tren... Same loud snores. Frank could sleep through anything. I climbed into bed with him. I got under the covers. I nestled next to him, so I was big spoon. Frank's naked body felt molten hot as I ran my fingers through his fur. Impossible to describe his scent. Even in the darkness, just tactilely, I could tell something was different. This was Frank, but this wasn't Frank's same body. For example, I cupped one of his shoulders with both of my hands, yet even two hands couldn't encompass his delt -- that's how enormous he was. Cuddling him from behind, I couldn't even reach around his lats; he was too wide. My fingers grew more restless as I realized he was far, far larger than the last time I saw him. In disbelief, I groped his sleeping muscles, squeezed his neck, caressed his beard, the stubble on the back of his head... Frank snorted loudly and flipped onto his back, almost crushing me in the process. But he didn't wake up. Frank started to talk in his sleep. "Fuck...Muscle bro...Fuckin' huge...Muscle...Freak...Musc..." he muttered. Then he resumed snoring even louder. Now I could feel his pecs. I delicately kneaded them, toyed with his sensitive nipples. ("Unnh!" Frank cried unconsciously.) Yes, they were much bigger too. Hard to tell how much bigger in the dark. I was in a silent frenzy. I could have cum right then and there. Yet I decided to reach down further. I felt it. Frank's 10.5" cock, as hot and hard as I had dreamed of it. I tasted some of the pre-cum that dribbled out. I had to do it. I had to ride him. I very quietly stood up, stripped the blanket off of his body. I squatted over Frank's cock and guided it into my massive bubble butt. I just used a bit of spit for lube. Even in his dreams, Frank was leaking so much pre that I didn't need much else. All the training I had subjected myself to that summer was leading here. Frank was still asleep as he entered me. I cried out in pain. Then the pain subsided and pleasure rushed over me like nothing I'd ever felt before. I slowly thrust up and down, taking more and more, until he was inside me up the hilt. I was legit crying tears of joy as Frank unwittingly tore through my ass -- feeling like the type of huge muscle bottom I'd always fantasized about. I started thrusting my ass faster and faster as I rode him. Then suddenly a change came over Frank. He didn't wake up, but some kind of animal spirit inside of him did. His super-strong hands clasped my waist, and suddenly he was thrusting harder and harder. Pounding me. "AHHHHH!" I screamed, unable to stay quiet any longer. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" I roared with each thrust. The feeling was so intense, I was about to pass out. Then Frank truly woke up. "WHAT THE -- what the FUCK?" he yelled out in confusion as I rode his cock in the darkness. I must have looked like a huge dark shape bouncing up and down on his boner. "AH! AH! AH AH!" I moaned, incapable of even forming words. I was starting to black out, the room was receding, but I couldn't stop riding Frank. It felt too incredible. Then Frank groped for a lamp near the bed. He clicked it on. A blinding light filled the room. I realized why the mattress was on the floor. The wooden bed frame had evidently buckled -- its wreckage was piled in the corner of the dorm room. I looked down at Frank, he looked up at me. We saw each other for the first time in three months. All while 10.5 inches of him were inside me. I'll cut to the chase. Frank was 470 pounds. He had gained 40 pounds of mass that summer. His arms had grown to 26 inches. His furry pecs were so enormous that from my angle, riding him, they actually hid most of his face. His cheeks were fuller and his face was broader from all the gear, yet he was as handsome as ever, even with a stunned look in his eyes. Then you have to imagine Frank's POV, bright light suddenly on, looking up and seeing his roommate, now a 265-pound gorilla, riding his cock for the first time ever, pectorals and hard cock flopping up and down. "J--James?" "FRANK!" (In unison) "OH MY GOD! UNNNNNNNH!!!!" As his load GUSHED into my hole, mine exploded all over his mega-pecs and his beautiful face. The biggest load I'd ever produced. His face was completely coated, like a mask. We both came and came and came and came and came. Our muscles were shuddering and quivering post-orgasm. The harsh light of the bedside lamp made our bodies look all the more freakish and unreal. Two absolute monsters, roid pigs, 19 years old, 735 pounds of muscle between us. Frank's sensitive cock was still deep inside me, gushing warm sperm deeper and deeper. We locked eyes. Underneath a veil of cum, I could tell Frank was smiling devilishly. That was how our sophomore year began.
  3. countmuscle

    Freshman Roommate (Part 4)

    Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 4: As soon as I started cycling, lifting and eating with Frank, my body responded better than I could have hoped. The night I first agreed to take steroids, I was 18 years old, 5’9, 155 pounds. I was in good shape from swimming and running, and knew I was pretty handsome, but I looked nothing like the muscle freaks I had jerked off to since adolescence. Being roommates with Frank pushed me to the extreme faster than I could have ever gotten there on my own. Once I committed, Frank viewed me as his special project, somewhere between a mentee and a ward. He saw my mass-building as equally important to his own. To supplement my diet, Frank would bring me endless, unvarying food from the dining hall (where, as a football player, he got unlimited meals). Our mini-fridge was so full of chicken breasts and ground beef that we had to buy another one and stack it right on top. He taught me to look at food as a source of fuel, not pleasure, and once I made this accommodation, it amazed me how much I could pack away each day. My intake accelerated until I was eating 500 grams of protein daily. Frank not-very-gradually ramped me up to a high dose of tren. Not as extreme as his, of course, but enough for my already-healthy libido to shoot through the roof. Luckily, I didn't experience any of the stuff I feared: acne, mood swings, shrinking balls, etc. All the side effects I had were, frankly, very sexy. My voice deepened noticeably; dark hair started to sprout on my chest and forearms; I woke up each morning, nuzzled in Frank's pecs, with an erection so hard it was almost intolerable. Of course, the most valuable part of Frank's tutelage was in the school gym. Two brutal, grueling sessions per day, every day, except Sunday ("rest day" -- more like 120 minutes of cardio). The first time we went to work out together, I was a panicked mess, insecure to even be seen next to Frank in his gym clothes. I remember the first lift we did together. Barbell bench press. "Watch what I'm doing," Frank said, voice deeper than Vin Diesel -- but he didn't need to tell anyone to watch him. Every eye in the gym followed Frank anywhere he went. He added five 45-pound plates on each side, 495 pounds, and knocked out 8 perfect reps. You could actually see the bar bending under the weight. He was even speaking to me as he did reps, calling attention to his form. ("See my grip?" he said through gritted teeth, nipples popping out of his tank top.) Then it was my turn. We spent two minutes removing plates, then I struggled to do a single rep with one 45 on each side. My arms gave out, and Frank spotted me with one hand. At the gym, the insecurities that I'd always nursed came out in full force. All of Frank's over-the-top horniness would disappear when we got in the gym: He became cool, composed, professional. We looked bizarre working out together. I'd watch Frank curl a 260-pound bar as a warmup, his veiny, 24-inch arms so swollen they looked like they might pop. Then he'd turn around and show me how to properly curl two 15-pound dumbbells, gently correcting me if I tried to go heavier than I was able to. The gym made me realize how exceptional Frank really was. I knew he was strong, but didn't know -- until working out with him -- that he was lifting heavier weights than the Mr. Olympias I jerked off to. There was a reason he looked like this. "Hey. You know that guy?" a hulking frat boy asked me one time, after Frank had stepped away. "Yeah, he's my roommate." "Your roommate?" The frat boy was confused and, I could tell, annoyed. He was a senior, one of the most juicy, muscle-bound jocks at our college. Probably 6'0", 260 pounds. Absent Frank, he would have been my sexual obsession, the campus muscle god. Now Frank, a mere freshman, had stolen his thunder, and to make matters worse, Frank was lifting with me every day. "Yes, my roommate." "Well, you realize he's squatting 840 pounds? For reps? He could be in the Olympics." I kept asking myself: How could Frank, this fucking monster, be attracted to a weakling like me? Wasn't he impatient, showing me how to do shoulder presses with 20-pound dumbbells? Yet I soon realized that all of my fears were unfounded. Frank was an incredible trainer. His patience was endless. And his professional demeanor -- which I took as diminished attraction to me, upon seeing how weak I was -- was just how he acted in the gym. Aside from eating, lifting was just about the only time Frank could focus and not let his libido take over. The only time his dick wouldn't get hard at the drop of a hat. Within days, I was growing stronger, and I could see the pride in Frank's eyes when I improved my form or hit a new PR. My grades plummeted. I studied weight training more than my textbooks. I did the bare minimum to not get expelled, less for academic reasons than to remain on campus with Frank as long as possible. -- Five pounds of muscle a week. That's how much Frank said I'd grow. And you know what? That's exactly what happened. One week of grueling lifting and nauseating eating, and I was 160. Up five pounds exactly. And the next week, I was 165, and two weeks later I was 175. I had gained 20 pounds of muscle in one month. I was incredulous. After this initial pop, my progress slowed, of course, but it didn't stop. The next month, I gained 10 pounds. Frank doubled my tren. By April, I was 200 pounds. ("What do you mean you can't come home for spring break?" "Sorry, Dad, I really need to stay here and study.") By June, I was north of 220 pounds. I had put on 65 pounds of muscle in six months. I looked like a different person. My shoulders had made the most shocking improvement. They turned into these hairy, bulging, flat-topped melons, jutting out even from behind, making every t-shirt tight around the sleeves. A perky shelf of pecs had grown in between them, even larger and plumper than my delts, and my nips had sprouted dark hair and pointed straight down under their weight. My back exploded in size. I became double-wide. I looked absolutely absurd, with my still-boyish face atop ultra-roided, superhero-like traps, wearing shirts that became so tight they left my midriff bare. After countless hours of punishing leg workouts, my quads, ass and hamstrings were spectacular to look at. My glutes stuck out like a capital P. I grew the diamond-shaped quads I'd always fetishized. I had to beg my parents to send me money so I could buy all-new clothes, vague on the reason why. (They assumed I was getting fat, "freshman 15," etc.) Not a single thing I owned fit me anymore, but I wasn't big enough for Frank's XXL hand-me-downs either. I didn't look so ridiculous working out with Frank anymore. To say that Frank liked my transformation was an understatement. My juiced-up physique made him even more insatiable, horny for me day and night. If I wasn't eating or lifting, I was having indescribable, balls-to-the-walls sex with Frank, almost hourly -- five times per day at least. Our sexual connection didn't lose its spark. It was like a roaring inferno, consuming everything else in our lives (except for bodybuilding and, for Frank, football), and the tren was like pouring gasoline on top. -- Impressive as my own growth was, during this same period, Frank had entered his most extreme phase of bodybuilding yet. "5-5-5," he called it. "Gonna increase tren, calories and weights 5% each week for five months." As the weeks compounded, his intake of food and steroids -- already remarkable -- became completely unhinged. By the end of his five-month sprint, he was eating 30 chicken breasts per day. One every 30 minutes. He was benching 620 pounds for reps. His tren dosage was as high as he could "safely push it" (his words), according to the Reddit threads where he got most of his information about steroids. He grew even faster than me. Up 10 pounds in January, 12 pounds in February, 16 pounds in March. When Frank hit 390 pounds, our scale broke. Even the one in the football training center couldn't weigh him. We had to order a new scale, specially made in Germany for the morbidly obese. It arrived seven long weeks later, and the anticipation of weighing ourselves was one of my hottest memories from this time. In solidarity, I had held off weighing myself during that stretch, so we could both learn our progress at the same time. We knew it was going to be shocking. The scale finally arrived one week before summer break. In our little room (a disaster, a cum dump, it looked like ten horny bodybuilders had been squatting in it), we got everything ready. We both stripped off all our clothes, not that we ever wore more than jocks or tight white Calvin Klein briefs stretched to tatters by our growing muscles. I went first. "225.1" Both our cocks shot up at the same time. "Oh fuck dude... Holy shit bro...So much fuckin' muscle bro...Oh fuck, oh fuck," Frank said, his eyes going blurry. He started kneading his fingers through my perfect pecs, sniffing my pits. He stuck his powerful tongue down my throat. "Fuck James, oh my god James, you're so fucking hot..." he mumbled with his tongue in my mouth. I pushed him away. "C'mon, Frank -- now it's your turn!" Frank took a gulp and stepped on the scale. The sheer magnificence of his body standing there was too much for me. I was stroking my cock, trying hard not to cum, as the digital scale processed his weight. The screen blinked WAIT, WAIT, WAIT. The seconds felt like minutes. Then finally, STEP OFF. "429.9" We both gasped. Frank's boner started quivering and leaking pre-cum. His face went flush. We both turned and faced the full-length mirror. Suddenly, he saw himself in a new light. He realized the size that he had packed on. "Whoa...Oh my god dude...Oh my god...Oh my god bro..." Frank said, stunned by his own reflection. "UNNHHH!" We both came without touching our cocks. I still remember how our loads shot off at the exact same moment, flew 4 feet across the room, and hit the mirror with a splash. As cum dripped down the looking glass, we stared in awe of the two unstoppable, handsome, horned-up freaks gazing back at us.
  4. MrDream

    A Bull Of A Man

    1 The faint sound of thudding footsteps drew closer, then the doorbell rang. Steve knew who it was, there was only one other person who shared apartment in his home since the private gym had been set up in garage. He eagerly opened the front door and made way for the muscular gym fanatic to enter in a hurry. "Remember, big guy, yesterday was your last rest day. From now on we need to keep you pumping iron and eating non stop" The pair of young men stood and looked into each others eyes for a moment as the door closed behind them, automatically locking and sealing the chaos of the outside world away from their isolated slice of heaven. The newcomer smirked back and ruffled his crew cut hair with one hand "I already am a bodybuilder, it you who need to be told to force feed me lock me in the gym" They kissed once, and with arms around each others slender waists, they strolled to the kitchen to view the dinner that steve had prepared for himself being totally overshadowed by the massive feast Steve had also prepared for his best friend Brad. It was a bodybuilders feast of high protein and carbohydrate healthfood topped off with a huge jug of protein shake. Brads mouth watered at the smell and sight and his belly audibly made some grumbling. "Shush you! First we are going to take the first before photo of your progress shots and weigh you while your still just skin and bone, then we are going to juice you up with growth hormone, theeeeennn we can start your first anabolic steroid laced gainer meal" said Steve with a paternal tone in his voice. Brad undid all the buttons on his shirt and sucked in his six pack gut while inhaling. *Click* *Click* . The first of his many progress pics of Brad the bodybuilder were taken. He looked like a skinny model all covered in obviously gym hardened ripped muscles, but starved of any layer of fat at all. With the supple curve of his stomach sucked in farther than usual, he looked like a starvation victim, even though according to the scales he was a decent 75kg. "Come on Steve" Brad protested "juice me up, then we can start turning me into a bull of a man" "Coming dear" said Steve, as his friend took his place at his end of the table. Steve handed the hungry man who had not eaten a thing all day, a handfull of appetite enhancer pills. They would make his stomach churn...and chrun...and churn with excessive amounts of digestive juice, and simply demand that its muscular owner fill it up. Brad did everything as was aggreed on and planned as he swalled every single one ready for the next step. Meanwhile, steve prepared Brads massive dosage of growth hormone to be administerd into the growing boy. they both knew what it would do to him - his muscles would swell, but so would his gut on the inside. By this time tomorrow, his belly would be bigger and hungrier than before as the size of his stomach and intestines would swell up. the steroids in his food would come next, digesting the boys protein into new muscle, them pumping all that nutrients into his athletic body making him even bigger and more powerfull than ever. His muscles would swell up and bloat all over his body, making brad one hell of a dashingly handsome stud indeed. Once the chemicals were in him, Steve reclined at the other side of hte table, slowly muching away on his appetisers to temp Brad. He knew he was getting hungrier and desiring food now. The desire must be burning more than his urge to build up his muscles. Brad watched in silence except for the tender muching from Steve and the slight grumble from his own tummy. He remember how they first met and the local gym desiring to improve thier bodies above what nature had given them. They became lifting buddies, then casual freinds, then good friends...then they opened up to each other. They had a lot in common, but he desire to build up thier msucles was high in these young men. They both desired the roided up look in their favourite bodybuilders too. those bronzed bodies in the magazines bulging with veins and sinew were no also bulging with massive midsections of muscle too. "My God...how do they pump those things up so big?" as the years had gone by, compedetive bodybuilders measurements had increased too. Biceps went from 16-18 inches, now bulged like canonballs at 20-25! Men had thighs thicker than a normal mans waist! Chests were so overdeveloped they could balance a glass of milk on the upper pectoral! Shoulders were so broad, male athletes as young as 17 were unable to reach the other deltoids with thier own hands! And thier waists...Ohhh the expanding waist lines...the ever expanding, pumping, bulging, bulking bellies of sexy studly solid muscle! And all of this eye candy was being fueled by growth supplements you simply cant buy over the counter. The boys made a deal, they put thier money together and had enough for one of them to turn into a professional roid fueled bodybuilder over the course of a year or so plus other expenses. Steve decided that he wanted Brad to indulge himself. Wanting everyone to know he was high on steroids, carelessly bulging and stretching his clothes, letting everyone stare, and showing off hte sideeffects of a massive roidgut like beachball on his lap...Brad didnt take much convincing to be talked into it. By now, the first line of chemical enhancements were coarsing through Brad's veins. He was salivating, he was concentrating on his yummy food laying out tantilising before his eyes. He knew steve had drenched it in steroids and an inumeral amound of growth enhancers too. and it wall all going to be fed into him like a big fat prize pig. Steve finished eating. He got up and strolled over to his human pet science project. Brad licked his lips as he knew it was time while he leaned back in his chair and held his hands behind his head to stretch out one last time. "GRRRRRR" Brads skinny six pack grumbled loudly as if aware of the approach of its owners feeder encourager. Steve placed his hand over the muscular belly and rubbed it affectionaly, then spoke to it in a silly patronising tone - "Awwww, just look at you. Brad hasnt been feeding you enough, and now your just a skinny little girls waist. Well, your uncle Steve will fix all that now that your both in my house, because we are going to pump you right up, little belly. Youre not going to be a skinny little six pack, we are going to blow you up into a big muscly roidgut, youre going to get real big, strong, and handsome. "GRRRRRRR" the digestive juices inside Brad were overflowing and churning inside the empty stomach. "Ohhh Yeah! Your going to be a real bloated musclegut, then when your nice and big, you can digest all of daddys protein, and pump his muscles up even bigger too" Brad could not take it anymore! He leaned forward and obeyed his hunger by grabbing the nearest platefull of food. As the night went on, Brad would weigh more and more, as his body filled up with the super nutritious healthfood saturated with anabolics. He always dreamed of being a steroid abusing freak and that dream was becoming a reality.
  5. roboprobo

    Bro Fam

    Eventually, you RELISHED your growth going out of control. Sure, you'd officially flunked out of your second year of college but economic analytics was harder than you anticipated... Thankfully, you were very lucky to have such a strong group of bros to support you. And they certainly did- when you initially told them you'd wanted to start working out more seriously, they actually gave you bags of supplements and 'lifestyle' tapes. The tapes were weird (all about 'motivation', working out, or dieting) and even when you always found yourself waking up towards the end of them you'd watch them religiously. Hell, the guys eventually started making your meals for you, too and it didn't take long for the gym to become second nature for you. You got BIG. Your confidence burst through the roof and you were cocky or even mean; you deserved it! Nobody could have gotten as jacked as you, nor as strong. Regardless, you were always kind to your bros. They were the ones making you big, too. Hell, after a while you started feeling like they worshiped you, in a weird, communal way. Each one would bring you a can of weird beer of a brand you couldn't pronounce and of course you'd end up shotgunning it as a challenge. At some point doorways were becoming a challenge due to your width- that's when the guys would laugh at your wide, stumbling gait but still help you get upstairs to bed. The side effects made EVERYTHING bigger. Some of the bros bought you new shoes every time your feet started getting cramped in your current pair. One day you'd dozed off again after a weird lifestyle tape, waking up with an excess of morning wood and one of your younger buddies sucking on your long toes. You felt embarrassed but there was something about when he asked you to flex for him that kept you laying comfortably on your increasingly smaller bed. He'd ask you questions about wanting your growth and if you liked it; you'd answer with honesty as you milked your fat cock, his chuckle making you smile naively as he moved to massage your huge feet and massive legs. You were getting massive and it felt awesome! All you could really think about was getting bigger and having fun with your bros. After a while it wasn't weird at all to find yourself flexing or working out in the basement, naked, and you consistently found yourself serving the guys however they asked. You almost cried when the school told you you'd failed all your classes; you couldn't even remember the last time you'd even gone. The guys told you it didn't matter, you could still live at the house and to not even sign up for another semester if you didn't want to. So you didn't bother with school. Hell, you used to consider yourself a rather smart guy but nowadays you could barely keep up with complex conversations your bros have at home. The guys would laugh when you gave a ditsy comment and tell you to show of your tits instead. You'd happily peel up (or ripped off) your shirt, showing off your massive pecs. You loved showing off, after all! They called you a good 'himbo' and directed you to administer twice the doses of supplements you were accustomed too. You explained to them your pectorals were seemingly increasing size even faster than the rest of your body, feeling sore almost every day. They gladly began giving you more thorough daily 'massages'. Nowadays you find yourself practically shaking the earth beneath your heavy steps, your quads and hams so wide you have to move in an awkward waddle. Your time is religiously spent in the basement gym or with your loving bros. Sure, they graduate and new ones come in, but you always find tight relationships with them. The guys worship your massive, sweaty body and always make sure you're well-taken care of. You've lost track of how many years have gone by and sometimes wonder if you're not really getting any older, either. You're fucking huge. Sometimes the guys are sweeter and love letting you strut around with a proper alpha male cockiness. Others are meaner, tricking you into tight situations or letting your huge pecs go without milking for days at a time, letting you murmur in discomfort like a proper bull in heat as your pecs start looking overdeveloped even for your massive frame. A rare few actually manage to fit your huge cockhead in their mouths. Some manage to fit you inside them (dangerously) but most often you enjoy feeling a bro sniffing and lapping your hairy, muscled pucker before stretching it out with their fat bro cock. For as much as you have to eat, absorbing protein through your bros' thick cocks is a benefit you gladly enjoy. There isn't often a party where you turn down a proper pose down, letting all the guys worship you as they pump you full of beer and cock.
  6. QuoteTheRaven

    Simb Bakkani Super Heavyweight (Completed)

    Mossano inherited Muscle Pride Rock Gym in Bangkok. He became an IFBB Pro, then Mr. Thailand, and then opened Muscle Pride Rock Gym 2. At 21, Simb was born. Muscle Pride Rock Gym sang with celebration. Patrons — thin and lithe to well-muscled hunks in string tanks and hoodies — gathered around he and his wife Sarai. Mossano’s pharmacological coach held Simb aloft. The gym speakers played joyous music filled with rhythms and flutes. As a kid, Simb spent his time running around Muscle Pride Rock with his best friend Naylon. Everyone knew them. All treated them with joy. Simb had no thoughts about his place in the world. CHAPTER ONE — BETRAYAL Now, on a day in Simb’s eighteenth year, Simb and Naylon lounge near the juice bar. As they lounge, Simb’s Uncle Scarab shows up. Scarab is seven years older than Simb, and devotedly bodybuilds. He is outwardly obsequious toward Simb while also giving off a resentful vibe. Simb thinks that’s the way for uncles on diets, restrictions, and heavy lifting schedules. Scarab talks to the teens. He asks them what kind of music they like. When they mention a local group, he tells them it’s a huge coincidence that that group is playing at a place called Parrot Bar. He says he has passes to that bar and that they can see their favorite band if they leave to go now. The guys can’t believe the coincidence and want to go and so they do. The whole thing is a lie. When they get there, instead of saying Parrot Bar it says Parrot Gay Bar. This gives pause, only because they are not into sexual things yet. But they want to see the band. Inside, there is no band. Instead two twenty year old hoodlums pay attention to them. The hoodlums are so skinny ribs show through their tees. They are as heavy-headed as hyenas with open-hanging mouths. “We are Shen and Ban,” the jackally two snigger, “You are the son of the best muscle man in Thailand aren’t you? We recognize you. Are you here because?…. because you like sex with males, no?” Simb and Naylon feel uneasy, more uneasy even than from the dancers grinding crotch-packed near-naked muscles. Simb and Naylon try to pretend they are cool as it is important to accept all people. That is what Mossano and Simb’s mother Sarai always teach. The manager at the Parrot Gay Bar notices the youth and suspects something is amiss. He calls the MRP Gym and the manager, Zazar, answers. Zazar, who is homosexual himself and expressive in his personality, flaps off to tell Mossano right away. Mossano goes to the bar and rescues the boys. Mossano is upset with Simb for going to a drinking place and one that focuses on any kind of sex. He scolds Simb and Simb feels bad about his judgment. But Mossano forgives Simb. Mossano also explains to Simb that some of Mossano’s best friends are gay. He adds, “with the genetics you have from me and mom, I want you to end up my size and condition. If you do as I do, eating, the heavy iron lifting, the gear.” Mossano continues, “What I want to say is when you grow up and become as I am, you will play a special role — pedestaled by men and women, wanted by all.” Simb says ok. He doesn’t know what that all means or whether he wants that. He’s still a kid. Drives can be dormant until nature fully spigots testosterone and awakens a man to his real wants. However, meanwhile, during Mossano and Simb’s conversation, Scarab has found the 20-year-old shady fag beanpoles. You might think he is there to berate them and force them to understand more about what is appropriate with people of different ages. But Scarab has a nefarious character and only self-serving purposes in mind. He has designs — designs of no longer being lesser in his brother’s shadow, to usurping his brother’s titles, to gaining his brother’s businesses and all that his brother has. As part of his plan to do that, he makes an overture to the youth Shen and Ban. He will freely service them at MRP Gym. But they must help frame Mossano for a crime. The two are alarmed at the idea of doing something of the kind. But then they feel Scarab’s enlarged biceps that rise as balls, hard as rock. Scarab talks dominant fetished stuff about how swollen his pecs are, how his ass jacks and how intensely good he feels. He tells them he must grow bigger, dominating little fucks, that he’ll make his brother seem fucking small. He wants to transform the two weasels too. He thinks they could all fuck each other as big muscle men. The two hypnotized fags both are almost orgasming as he makes their dicks so hard with his dreams. They agree to help Scarab. In the setup to the framing scam, Scarab goes to Simb the next week. Scarab dishonestly tells Simb that Mossano wants Simb to take a package of steroids (legal in Thailand) to the other branch of the gym. Simb is only 18 and never been given a task like this before so he is uncertain at first. But Scarab is convincing. Simb heads out in the streets with the messenger bag unaware. What it really contains is cocaine, heroine and drugs heavily punishable even for someone his age to possess. As soon as Simb has left, Scarab gathers up Shen and Ban and they go to Mossano. Scarab acts as though he’s collared the gay twenty year olds, physically showing his superiority to the pimpled scarecrows, manhandling them with true get-off brawn, and acting as though he’s threatening them and forcing them to confess what they will say. They almost give the whole thing away because Mossano’s muscles are so beautiful. His abs rise and fall, coil and fold as he talks. They have never seen the great Mossano, champion of all of Thailand and seventh place finisher in the Olympia of the world. Mossano is bigger than they imagined a person could be. They’ve never seen someone of such impossibly increased size — shoulders that mountain and arm girth 20+ inches around. In front of the steroid-massed giant, scrawny little undeveloped Shen and Ban suddenly stiff solid ones in their pants. But Mossano is so familiar and used to that kind of thing that it doesn’t register as a warning flag. Shen and Ban tell Mossano, as though confessing, that they have given Simb an illegal package, using Simb as an unsuspecting mule. But, they explain, he has to be “saved” for they’ve heard a police trap is set for the other gym. Mossano is furious. He will charge to help his son. He roars at the scum that have come to him. Scarab sneers and growls at the scum too. He enjoys the chance to act vile towards anyone, even his own accomplices — getting a charge always to be superior where he can be. He holds each of the guys hands behind their respective backs, lusty with the comprehension that he literally has the physical power to restrain them simultaneously each with a single fist. The muscles in Scarab’s shoulders flex in displaying expression as he shifts to subtle poses — pose after pose — while he holds them. Scarab then says aloud to Mossano, “Have no fear, brother, these two drug dealers will join us and I will force them to play their role.” Then Scarab smiles with a truly carnivorous look. His traps pop definitionally around his neck. Mossano says “good.” And then before they leave MRP GYM, he gives the keys for both gyms plus the code for the wall safe to Scarab. Mossano says, “I’ve never given these to you before, but I’m not sure how long resolving this will take at the other gym, and at the police station, and in the court…. Plus I have to see about getting these two young drug runners into some kind of reform. It’s best that someone in good trust has control until I am back.” Scarab thinks quickly, “Can you text that quickly to my phone as well?” he says slyly, “In case it does take you a long time and anyone asks if you left me in charge.” Mossano suspecting nothing, sends the text. They thunder across town as a group on motorbikes. Heads whip tracking the massbeast of Mossano hulking upon his machine. The pure masculinity of such massive muscularity has those passed by gaping. As they go, Mossano doesn’t spot Simb anywhere. As they near MRP II Gym, his concern grows. When they get to MRPII Gym, they still haven’t found Simb. They head across the parking lot, Mossano in the lead. Scarab falls purposefully behind. Scarab pulls the two scum surreptitiously aside and tells them in a quick, low sinister growl “Get lost. I will take it from here.” He pulls one of their heads into his juiced pecs and lets the pup nuzzle there briefly in the Dianabol-responsible cleft, even allowing him to lick quickly and wantingly at his nipple. Scarab whispers, “This is nothing, you fag. I’m going to have you tit fuck mountainous monster pecs that are inhuman when I’m 100 pounds bigger and more dominant than a god.” Then he gives the guy a command, “make sure that sniveling little boy Simb… never comes around MRP Gyms again.” Scarab races after Mossano and catches up just past the door. Inside, there are seven cops. Eighteen year old Simb is in their grasp. Simb is so young and fragile —flustered, lanky, rattled, distressed. The currier bag sits emptied of its illegal contents on the counter. The head cop, a commissioner, turns and says to those arriving, “This is tremendously serious. This delinquent will be going to jail for a long time.” Mossano does not recognize that the scum have not come in. He says, “No no, once you have the explanation of who is really responsible you will let him go.” The commissioner says, “Yes if we are given another responsible we will let this one go.” He says this because earlier the two scum had come to the police station claiming to be informants who could help them capture Mr Thailand who they said had been behind illegal drug running for a long time. The police officers on duty had all chorused, “THE Mr. Thailand? Mossano Bakkani? He who has a vee taper to a thirty two inch waist and weighs 278 pounds with arms that are 21 inches around?” Each officer knew the most famous muscular body in Thailand. So famous no one else had a fraction of the same public recognition. It is ubiquitous what the hypersexual, hypermighted silhouette of Mossano Bakkani looks like. All those overly male police officers are familiar with how the small posers of the king lounge over his ass and wrap atop his horse cock. “Yes,” the scum had said, “that is the one.” The pulse rates of those officers back at the station had gone up at even the mention of a man so self-endowed and huge. Now here in front of many of those officers, is the actual Mr Thailand. He is a man who simply can’t be real. His shoulders simply stretch too far and aloft from his neck. His torso circles at every level with immeasurability. He is too rockishly dense, too cord-thewed, and too beefily enlarged. He has muscles with more muscles on top. Mossano turns like an aircraft carrier, his legs like temple columns. He looks to have the scum confess but sees Scarab standing all alone in his stringer with his little roid-hungry physique on display. “They got away,” mouths Scarab syrupy and with what he hopes looks like a pained shrug. “Why are you looking around?,” the commissioner says to Mossano, “why don’t you just tell us the truth so that your son here can be let go?” Mossano sees the situation and walks to Scarab. His championship bodybuilder body imposes in on Scarab. Mossano’s monumental excess presses predatorily over Scarab’s lesser swole. Mossano whispers to Scarab, “I am going to explain to the officers that this crime was really done by the two drug runners. You will back me up, right?” he says warningly, “I need to know.” Scarab whispers back, “I don’t know what you are talking about. If you insist on such stories you are probably sending your son to a certain long time in jail.” “That would be a very unfatherly thing to do,” Scarab adds in a cold purr. Mossano understands now that he has been betrayed but must save his son. He turns to the commissioner and says, “It was not my son, it was me. I lied to him about what was in the bag and told him they were legal anabolic drugs.” The cops descend on Mossano and handcuff him. He is as powerful as Hercules. Reflexive at being confined, he explodes open the chains. He swings his enormous guns. Officers bowl over backward in every direction. The police ogle from the floor, all truly in awe. He is definitively the greatest and one of the most massive men that has ever been in Thailand and currently is one of the top ten most muscular men in the entire world. The commissioner says, “we will handcuff you again, and If you do not cooperate we will also take the boy.” Mossano turns to look at Scarab. He flexes his might body into a double bicep pose and snorts and growls. He is 40% bigger than Scarab. His torso heaves. His legs thunder with their gargantuan magnitude. It is imposing to behold. But then Mossano submits to the handcuffing and is taken from the gym. As soon as they leave, Simb runs crying to his uncle. “This can’t be! We have to help get my dad free.” Scarab puts his fists on his hips and raises his chest and shoulders inflating and flexing the mass he has even as it pales to what his older brother just showed. He is going to change that now. He knows he‘s going to grow so much much much bigger than he’s been. He’s the one who will use Mossano’s drugs and money and resources now. The world will see what truly wild use of all three can really do. He won’t restrain himself in any temperate way he thinks his brother has. He looks at the weak boy and seethes, “You incompetent weakling! You did this! Your father has been dealing like this for years and never gotten in trouble. It was the source of all his ability to pretend who he was and gain the mass and might that won him awards. You have ruined it and have sent him to jail. I will bring you back to the gym now and tell everyone what you have done. They love your father there.” Scarab is in full sleazy condescension now and continues, “You will have destroyed him and yourself in their eyes. But maybe if you disappear I can save his reputation and explain it was you. His imprisonment will be forever on your pathetic thin puny weak girlie shoulders but at least the love and reverence of his people can be preserved and you won’t destroy that love.” It is lies all lies, but Scarab is filled with festering wile and narcissistic need. Simb sputters. The tears flow. His breathing comes in racking sporadic gasps. He has a scrawny body and is gangly tall. But, mostly in that moment he is just a bereft son, almost a little boy. The moaning continues as he says, “But…. I didn’t mean…. It was all an…… I can’t leave my mother…. Can’t leave Naylon…” Scarab turns from the boy, bored. He has eyes in the mirror then only for himself. He pulls his stringer down low and pushes his workout pants off his bunched underwear. He admires his torso lean though it is, as defined as it is. And his arms and legs. Yes. He is defined. And has muscular definition. But he will grow grotesquely massive now. Sickly so. And then even far more disgustingly when he wants. Thailand is to have a true new bodybuilding emperor. One taller and more unrestrained in becoming as impossibly gargantuan as he can. He anticipates tapering to an even crazier narrow vee — he’s always had the blessing of narrower wolf hips than Mossano’s hasn’t he. And shoulder skelature just a little broader naturally. He knows in his gut his genetics hold that in store. God he wants to hulk and pose. “This is all your fault,” Scarab says firmly again to Simb not bothering even to turn around. Simb’s blubbering peters out until finally Simb simply sniffles, “Yes, I will go.” Simb gathers his wallet and comb from the counter. The police say Simb has to go to protective services until they can sort things out about his home. Two of the officers leave with Simb in tow. Scarab is alone with the commissioner now. The commissioner is in his mid-50s. He looks like he lifted a weight or two in his glory days. Just the kind of “straight” authority figure who looks susceptible to a transaction he-man to he-man. The commissioner tells the other officers they can leave. Once the gray-haired commissioner is the only remaining official, Scarab leads him to the gym’s office and closes the door. Scarab looks at the older man’s height of about 5’9”. “I thought I might be able to tell you a little bit about my nephew’s home.” Scarab says low and hard. “That would be completely appropriate to know,” says the commissioner. “I don’t like to say this about Mossano because he is my brother,” hisses Scarab, “but his wife and he can’t stay clean.” “Is that right,” says the commissioner, “Heroine and Cocaine?” “Yes?… Yes, of course. Those two drugs and so many more….you should think of them as using whatever would keep a couple permanently in jail, would keep a teenage son from returning home.” Scarab leans back on the edge of the desk. His legs splay in the loose-crotched fitness pants but he knows his thighs are developed enough and muscular enough for the dominant twenty five year old that he is. He balls his hands into fists and slowly raises them up in front of himself as though doing a preacher lift. His biceps curl into 17.75” swells. He eyes the commissioner and then each veiny bi in turn. And then he eyes the commissioner once again. The commissioner says, “Of course, we’d need to be doing blood screenings of Mr and Mrs Bakkani to confirm what you say is true.” “Tests of their blood you say?” says Scarab. Scarab slowly swings his left fist from where it is curled in front out to the side and then up. His right fist mimics it next. He is widening his lats until they show they are suggestive of small barn doors. His shoulders mount into miniature boulders. “Is the use of a blood test very necessary?” Scarab coos. “It is,” says the commissioner — he is tough in some ways, experienced at the way of the world. Scarab is not concerned. He is certain he can get his way. That’s all that matters. He doesn’t care what he does. He says to the commissioner, “I have a session to practice my posing in a few minutes. I’ll only be ready if I change as we talk. You understand that don’t you?” “Yes. Of course. We all have schedules.” “I take off my stringer first, don’t you agree?” “No, preparing to pose, one would take off their training pants first. Isn’t that right?” “Oh yes,” says Scarab, “You are completely correct.” Scarab pushes the pants down to his ankles. He wriggles each foot free. The pants get kicked to the side and he stands there in just his oversized boxer underwear. “You see, I work out,” Scarab says. He splays his legs. Individual cords of muscle rope atop his twenty nine and a half inch thighs rising and falling. “Hmmhum,” says the commissioner. Scarab crosses his hands to the front hem of his stringer. He lifts it over his head and off. He lets it dangle from the fingers of his left hand before dropping it to the floor. He stands in “relaxed pose”. His pecs cast the shadow of someone who’s cycled a number of times. His nipples are dark brown. “I workout lifting weights,” Scarab says looking slowly at each of his body parts in a choreographed show. “You know resistance exercise is an important path to virility, to being more and more strong, to making a true man, to being desired. Resistance exercises make a man’s muscles toned.” The commissioner says, “Very important” “Of course I don’t just keep my muscle toned do I?” says Scarab. “No.” “That may be the way of some, right?” Scarab says. “Yes.” “But that’s not mine, is it?” Scarab says. He steps forward. He’s about eight feet from the lawman. He pulls up the bottom hems of the boxers and shows his thighs more fully. They are rippling and corded. Then he smiles cruelly and pushes the boxers down and free from his legs, discarding the boxers atop the rest of his clothes. The commissioner looks at Scarab’s groin. “No, I don’t like that. You should turn around.” The commissioner hasn’t liked the undersized penis or the absent balls. Scarab turns and the Commissioner looks at the young pterodactyl back. It’s veined and knotted. Below, the ass fills beautifully. The sphincter chasm holds like a sculpted gate. The commissioner sees a bin of posers on a shelf. He pulls an especially skimpy neon orange one from the top. He throws it against the muscle back that Scarab has. “You have posing practice,” the commissioner says, “oughtn’t you put that on?” Scarab bends and reaches behind. His asshole opens. His hamstrings look like cuts flayed of skin. Scarab puts one foot into a tiny leg hole and then switches to put his other foot in the other. He drags the stretching fabric up over the maple tree trunks of his legs. He shimmies the poser onto his ass and snaps it into place. The fabric expands. The waistband threads over and around his sculpted hips. The stretching is barely scanty. The leg hems climb the freshness of his thighs and curve away past his hips toward his front. Scarab turns and his penis is now vacuumed up into a miniature but meated blatantly outlined mound. “Better?” Scarab asks. “Yes,” the commissioner replies. Scarab takes another three steps toward the commissioner. “I believe you may have had some experience ‘working out’,” Scarab says. “Yes,” comes the commissioner’s reply. “But you are nothing compared to me, Right?” Scarab asks. “Yes.” Scarab tightens into a most muscular and then inflates to an impressing double biceps, lats flared and legs on display. “I’m big aren’t I?” he says. “Yes. Yes you are.” Scarab is forcing his displaying arm in the worshipper’s face. “I’m only going to get bigger.” He snorts as he goes to a back flare. “Can you imagine that?” Scarab brags. He flows to a right side bicep pose and a left after that. “Yes. oh. Yes you are.” “Can you conceive how I feel?” Scarab drawls, stomping his left foot to explode his thigh, “Conceive how I will feel?” The commissioner says, “uurrr.” Scarab swings his left foot forward and then his right. His thighs already wobble some with weight. The flesh on them echoes to a stop after each step. He approaches the commissioner moving a juvenile bull’s size with each slow step. He brings his porny-ness right to the commissioner’s face. His lips are inches from the commissioner’s eyes. “Do you have any conception of how dripping this all is? Do you? Of how I feel? Of what it is to be endowed this way? Do You?” His breath oozes masculinity. The commissioner responds. Perhaps it is a “no” but more it is hard to tell and just sounds like a moan. Scarab says, “I don’t think there needs to be any bloodwork to know that Mossano and Sarai have been using the illicit cocaine, heroine and meth that they have polluted our city with, do you?” And the commissioner pulls himself together and says clearly, “No.” And then Scarab puts his tongue in the commissioner’s throat and moves the commissioner’s hands onto his rock hard sexualized body. “Fondle, Lick, Worship, Enjoy, you puny fucker,” croaks Scarab, “don’t even think about the fact that you will have to deal with me after I’ve executed my plan to get 70% more huge — you’d probably like that wouldn’t you, you fuck? A dom that massive? muscle that grotesque and obscene bearing down on you? Dominating you? Making you a fucking fuck toy? You’re such a pansy, puny fag man. It’s my pleasure to fully destroy fuck drip like you.”
  7. mmvmgo2011


    Hi all Long time lurker. I thought I'd start a story that's been mulling around in my head for a while now. I'm still not sure where it's ultimately headed - though I'm hoping it won't go where you think it might. I have some ideas for the direction - but nothing concrete. There could be anything - so fair warning - if you're easily offended, or grossed out, or whatever, this may not be the thread for you. I'm planning on keeping each chapter fairly short, but hoping to post updates more often. It's my first ever story - so be kind, or not ... EDIT: I've purposefully not given our main protagonist a name, but will use uppercase HE/HIM/HIS to refer to HIM. I'm gradually editing each entry to fix this after the fact. Apologies if it's hard to follow. ******* CHAPTER ONE It was over. Well, IT wasn’t over, but the race to find a vaccine against the SARS-CoV-2 virus, the virus that caused COVID-19, was done. The company where HE worked had lost the race. There were five or six vaccine candidates approved worldwide, some mRNA based, some more traditional. HIS company had spent billions of dollars, and would never recoup those R&D losses releasing vaccine number six or seven, even if it was more effective. If only it was even slightly effective. The project was shelved and, indeed, the existence of the company itself was now under threat. Word had come down from on high that afternoon; a Thursday. The staff were shocked, but not particularly surprised. Everyone expected the axe to fall at some point — many surprised it took as long as it did. It was always a radical and ambitious plan. A plan that would pay massive dividends if it paid off - not only in immediate sales of vaccine, but in lucrative patents that would forever change vaccine development and progress medical science as we’d known it. As the old saying goes, if it’s too good to be true… A vaccine that reprogrammed the patient’s DNA so that the patient’s own immune system would produce the cells and antibodies necessary to fight the virus would not only prevent COVID-19 disease, it would also prevent transmission of the virus causing the disease, ending the pandemic once and for all. But that was small fry compared to future developments. No more influenza, common cold, herpes, HIV, Hepatitis… any infection known to man — virus, bacteria, fungi — would be cured. And even the big C, cancer. Well, it WAS ambitious. But it was not to be. Though the theory seemed sound, putting the theory into practice proved… challenging. Hundreds of billions of dollars were spent trying to make it work and, though there was some promising early results in vitro, every single tested animal had resulted in horribly disfigured or dead animals. Not exactly ready for initial human trials, let alone approval for final manufacture and sale. The bean counters and lawyers were still crunching the numbers and considering the options, but it seemed that so little progress had been made converting theory into practice that everything relating to the project, from samples to formulas, from notes to equipment, from methods to specialised equipment — everything — was effectively worthless.
  8. UltimateSwoldier

    Hyper Hero (Prologue 11/19/22)

    Hey guys! Long time lurker with occasional updates to my progress channel. I've finally decided to try my hand at this writing gig lol. Can't wait to give you guys more! Just keep in mind that I intend for this story to have crushing and destruction themes and deals with steroid use. -- PROLOGUE The room was dimly lit and cool. It had all the trappings of an executive board room, minus a view. Along the walls were framed portraits of some of earths greatest heroes, their names engraved below. There was almost a solemn reverence amongst those seated at the table. The heavy looking table was a long marble slab, with papers and folders strewn about but piled in front of each member of the board. It was organized chaos. In front of each of the 10 board members however, one file remained untouched. A single letter was on the front of the folder. “C” It was the second most undesirable superhero tier in existence. C tier meant that you either had useless powers or you simply weren’t marketable by corporations. They both went hand in hand. C tier meant no money and no fame. You simply had powers and existed. The woman at the front of the room coughed slightly, drawing the attention of the board members back to her. She had grey hair, but looked to be at least in her late 40’s. She wore a simple suit and skirt. Her hair was kept in a tight bun, a habit from her days in the Marine Corps. Underneath the smile, you could see that she had more than her fill of experience with Prodigies. From their first discovery around the world, to their integration into Departments of Justice and Defense. She had seen it all. After 20 years, it was starting to show. She had reviewed this file personally several years ago. Personally, she thought he would have had use as perhaps a tank or bullet absorbing wall (making him a B Tier at best), but field observation and pushback from her superiors had forced her to make a different choice. He was capable of destruction on a mass scale, so he had to be regulated in that manner. Now it was time for a Review Board and his name had come up. This time all she could do was make the pitch. Time for the wind up. “Our final reviewee is Jason Stone.” she spoke in a clipped tone as she tapped a glowing button on the table. The room immediate lit up with a dim blue glow. Holographic displays projected a 3D image of the youth onto the table, as well as several paused videos of a truly massive individual. The young man looked as though he was a pro-bodybuilder. Along the lines of Derek Lunsford or Nick Walker. If he was built like a hero, why was he C-Tier? The woman could see the board members becoming restless. This entire meeting had taken at least two hours. If she wanted to help him, she needed their attention. “He’s a 25-year-old Caucasian male and a student at King City University. He has adopted the callsign: Hyper.” And here’s the pitch! She tapped another holographic button. The 3D projection of Jason immediately morphed from pro-bodybuilder into an absolute mass monster. Easily as wide as he was tall. The weight skyrocketed from 225 pounds to 895. His height didn’t even change. Hell, wider. It should be a physical impossibility for a man to be that size and live. Never mind move. Yet here he was. “Hyper’s main ability is muscle growth. Often to extreme lengths,” This was the fun part for her. A bit like showing off a new car model. “The growth and hardness of his muscles makes him impervious to blades weapons and everything short of nuclear and biological attacks. We’ve attempted to find his strength limits, but no machine can find it. Despite his mass and size, he can move almost as well as a normal human. His muscle also allows him to move faster and jump higher and farther.” The looks on the board members faces melted from boredom into shock and awe. A tank of a human, as naked as the day was long, moving with the ease of a normal hero. Again: impossible on every level! The videos displayed various combat operations with the hero. Skyscrapers crumbling and cars being tossed towards a mech that managed to dwarf the mutant. The mutant easily threw the cars like throwing a ball, each impact making the mech stagger. As it started to tip, the mech fired a missile into a fleeing crowd. As it ran its course, Jason dived and intercepted the deadly weapon. It simply exploded against his massive pecs as he used a hand to sweep the remains of the crowd out of his way. The fall, however, resulted in him breaking the asphalt and landing in the sewer system. The surrounding buildings shook appropriately and swayed. One unfortunate (condemned by the city) finally collapsed into rubble. Seconds later the massive mutant stood up from the wreckage and waved as the blurred figures of heroes swept onto the scene and started to assist however they could. The entire video had been ripped from news footage from a drone, but even from the back, the mutant appeared to be some kind of god. The woman closed the videos to observe the looks of the board members. At least three of them were blushing and sweating. The others that weren’t looked as though this was going to simply be another headache for cleaning up. Time for the bad news. “However, as you’ve clearly seen, the enormous power and size does come with trade-offs,” she hated this part. “His only assumed weaknesses are nuclear and biological warfare. He also has very little control over how much he can grow or the speed at which he grows.” She brought up another video. The man screamed in pain as his body lurched and swelled from the power, his clothes bursting off as he grew at an uneven and terrifying rate. Despite the misshapen beginning, the result was a true monster that should be feared. “He also can’t swim or control his strength in any measurable way.” She could already tell what the answer would be. She almost felt sorry for the kid whom she never met. “It says here that the running cost of cleanup can run into the billions, Mrs. Sanders” the gentleman at the head of the table said. His tone was even. Not unimpressed, but not shocked either. He too had seen his share of Prodigies. This one had been regulated for a reason. “Why should we take the risk of letting him work with the agency? I saw the after-action report on that operation. He’s directly responsible for injuring 5 people and killing 2 more. He’s a hero with a fucking body count!” The woman opened her mouth to answer but drew a blank. She had the right words but no idea how to say them. “Let me take him.” The voice came from a young man near the head of the table. Much to the chagrin of everyone else his feet were up on the table, and he looked more relaxed than bored or horny. The look on his face was one of complete ease. “Director Stevens, I don’t-“ one of the members started until the man sat up in his chair and held up a finger, silencing the naysayer. “First of all. It’s Junior Director. I’m here in place of my boss. Second, the whole point of the Special Crimes Unit is to prevent potential supervillains from becoming actual supervillains.” He gestured to the paused videos floating around the room. “That right there? That’s a potential supervillain. Would you rather have him work for us or for the bad guys?” The various members of the board shared looks around the table. Unfortunately, he was right. The mutant they had just seen certainly wasn’t capable of world domination and control. But he could level cities in minutes if he was left unchecked. The solution seemed simple. “All in favor of a tier upgrade and hire by Special Crimes?” Stevens said with a cheeky grin. A chorus of “ayes” were mumbled around the table. The chief was reluctant but picked up a green stamp and marked the file before handing it to the young man. The look he gave Stevens was one that could kill. It sent a clear message. Learn your place. “He’s all yours… Junior Director.”
  9. Part 1 I had graduated from art school a few months ago, but was still working as a barista at a coffee shop. Finding work as an artist was tough, so I had to keep working that crappy job until I could find something better. To take my mind off of that, I went to the gym to workout. Even though I didn’t know that much about lifting weights, I did what I could to build muscle. I always admired (and lusted after) huge muscle guys, wondering how they got so big. I had an athletic build, but my body was extremely small compared to those guys. I always wished I could be as big as them. When I hit the gym floor, I noticed two massively built older guys doing the bench press together. They were both wearing string tanks, tight shorts, weight belts and training shoes. They looked like they were 6 feet tall and weighed 280 pounds each and about 50 years old. Both were ruggedly handsome, one bald with a beard, the other with short dark hair and a mustache. And both their cocks were showing in those tight shorts underneath large muscle guts. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them as they took turns lifting the bar, loaded with four plates on each side. One grunted out rep after rep, while the other one encouraged him to keep going. They would slap each other on the chest after each set. “Good job, man! Looking pumped!” I could see their dicks harden and grew during the set. I moved to a flat bench next to them and hoped to get a better look while I worked my chest. I put 45-pound weights on each side of the bar and tried to get to ten reps. After a few, I started to struggle. “Hey little man, need some help?” I heard a deep voice ask. I looked up and saw a bald, bearded face staring down at me above a pair of massive pecs and a huge bulge. “Um, sure,” I responded. He put his hands under the bar, helping to guide it as I continued to push up and down. “There you go, keep pushing. Stay in form. That’s it.” His encouraging words helped me through the set, as I finished out the full ten reps. I sat up and turned to him and smiled. “Thanks, that was helpful.” He smiled back. “No problem. Do you want me to spot you for the rest of your set?” “Oh, I don’t want to interrupt your workout with your friend over there.” I motioned over to the other daddy, who was talking on his phone and adjusting his cock. “Oh, he has to take care of some business, so it’s all good.” “Ok, sure!” I got excited that this huge muscle daddy was helping me workout and I started to pop a boner in my sweats. I laid back down on the bench, hoping he didn’t notice my hardon. I started my next set and he guided me through it. His deep voice calmed me as I focused on lifting the bar up and down. The weight didn’t feel as heavy now. I did two more sets, feeling pumped at the end. “Good job! You got a nice pump from that!” He exclaimed, looking down at my pecs. I blushed, still feeling tiny compared to him. I looked down and caught his dick moving in his shorts. “Yeah, good job!” said the mustached daddy, who walked over, or waddled more accurately. His dick bounced as he moved. “Thanks. I’m pretty new to working out, so I’m still trying to learn the ropes.” I smiled sheepishly. They both exchanged glances. The bearded daddy said, “You want to work out with us? We can show you a few things. We have been doing this for awhile.” He raised his arm, flexed his thick bicep and laughed. My cock hardened immediately. “Sure!” I said, surprised at the invitation. They both slapped me on the back and chuckled. “Good! I’m Terrell and this is Tony.” Both reached out their meaty hands to shake my much smaller one. My cock quivered at their touch. “I’m Josh. Nice to meet you.” They led me over to a cable machine and set the weight up. I followed their instructions as they taught me proper form and technique. Hearing their deep voices tell me what do while working out my chest turned me on so much. I had to keep adjusting myself so my hardon wasn’t visible. But as the workout went on, the more intense it got and I soon forgot all about that and just focused on lifting weights. All I could hear were their voices telling me what to do as my pecs pushed themselves to the limit. By the end, my chest felt destroyed, but totally pumped. “Great workout, Josh. You really killed it!” Terrell said patting me on my chest with his giant hand. “Yeah, I’m impressed,” Tony remarked, also patting me on my chest. “Really?” I was practically out of breath and completely drenched in sweat. They were both covered in sweat and their pecs had swelled even more from the workout. I felt like a toothpick standing next to them. They were so wide and thick, packed with dense, veiny muscle. Every time they moved, their muscles twitched. I felt light headed being surrounded by so much muscle. I bent over to catch my breath. “You ok, Josh?” Tony asked. “Yeah, but I think that workout killed me, though.” Both laughed. “Good, that way you know it’s working!” He slapped me on the back. “We gotta run, but you wanna work out with us again sometime?” I looked stunned. Why were these muscle gods so willing to help me? “Um, yeah, I’d love to!” “Cool. How about you meet us here tomorrow at the same time?” “Ok, see you then!” I wiped sweat from my face. “Make sure to eat plenty of food today and get lots of sleep. You don’t want to waste those gains!” Then Tony reached into his duffle bag and pulled out some pills. “Oh, and take these supplements, they will help you recover from the brutal workout today. We want you nice and rested for the torture we’re going to put you through tomorrow! Haha!” I laughed nervously with him. “See you tomorrow, Josh!” said Terrell, patting me on my bubble butt while he and Tony waddled out of the gym. I was stunned. I felt so lucky that those two muscle daddies trained me. And they were going to train me again! I eagerly popped the pills that they gave me and washed them down with water. I went home, ate a ton, and then went to bed early, dreaming of those two muscle daddies. Part 2 The next day I bolted out of work and ran straight to the gym. As soon as I walked in the door, I saw Tony and Terrell standing at the front desk, looking massive. I got hard instantly. I hoped I could make it through the workout without embarrassing myself. They smiled and waved at me. “Ready for your next training session?” Terrell asked while putting his meaty hand on my shoulder. My dick twitched from his touch. “Yeah, I’ve been looking forward to it!” “Good! And it looks like you kept that chest pump from yesterday!” Tony beamed as he put his hand on my pecs. My dick twitched again. I was in heaven. Terrell handed me some more pills and a bottle of liquid. “Before we begin, take these supplements and pre-workout. They’ll help you get a better workout and pump.” I happily swallowed the pills and washed them down with the drink. I could feel my body already getting pumped. “Good boy,” he said while patting me on my ass. We made our way to gym floor and started my training session. They stood on either side of me as I lifted, correcting my form as I went. Once again, their deep voices lulled me into a trance, my mind focusing only on lifting weight. I could feel my muscles swelling as the weight and intensity increased. Before I knew it, I had finished the session. My back and biceps were on fire. “Great job, Josh! Your back is looking yoked!” exclaimed Tony from behind me while putting his hands all over my back. He moved closer and I could feel a bulge press slightly into my backside. “Fuck, man, your guns are looking big!” cried Terrell from the front. “Let’s see them. Give us a double bi!” Hesitantly, I raised both my arms and flexed. They had never felt so swollen before. His eyes lit up as he moved closer to feel them. “Thatta boy!” he said squeezing my arms while gently pressing his pecs and bulge into me. I waivered and felt like I was about to pass out. “Easy there, Josh! You ok?” Terrell released my arms and held me by my waist. “Yeah, just a little wiped out from the workout.” I wiped the pouring sweat from my forehead. “Looks like you need to eat. Wanna grab a bite to eat with us?” Tony asked. “Uh, sure,” I replied, still unsteady from the intense workout. “I gotta shower first, though.” “No problem. We’ll wait for you by the front desk.” He patted me on my ass as I headed to the locker room. I quickly showered and got dressed. I was half expecting them to be gone when I came out, but there they were, still looking massive. I couldn’t believe my luck. We headed down the block to a small restaurant and found a booth to sit in. I sat on one side where Terrell joined me. Tony sat across from us. Both guys were so big, they couldn’t fit on one side together. Even with my much smaller build, Terrell still crowded me as his large arms sat against mine. My dick pitched a tent in my pants. After we perused the menu, the waiter came over and his eyes widened as he looked at Tony and Terrell. I could see his dick move in his pants. “Um, what’ll you guys have?” Looking at the menu, Terrell ordered. “I’ll have the whole chicken, two orders of rice, and two orders of steamed broccoli.” I gulped at the thought of eating that much food in one sitting. Tony chimed in, “Yeah, I’ll have the same.” “Wow, you guys are hungry!” the waiter marveled. “Well, you gotta eat to get big,” boasted Tony as he flexed a bicep. The waiter balked at the size of Tony’s arm. Then the waiter turned to look at me. “Um, I guess I’ll have…” Terrell interrupted. “Why don’t you start him out with half of what we ordered, and we’ll go from there.” I looked stunned. Why did he order for me? “All right, I’ll bring it out when it’s ready!” He turned and went to the kitchen, adjusting his pants along the way. I was about to speak up, when Terrell turned to me, his big, brown eyes boring a hole through me as he spoke. “I didn’t want you to lose any of the gains you made today, so I ordered you the best and healthiest option here. I hope you don’t mind?” All resistance faded in me as he said that. “I don’t mind. You know what’s best for building muscle,” I acquiesced. He smiled and patted my leg. “Good boy.” Tony rested his elbows on the table and leaned in, his arms flexing as he did so. “You did great today Josh. We think you have the potential to get big. That is, if you want to.” “Yeah, I do. I’ve always wanted to be big. But I’ve never been able to grow past a certain point.” “We can help you if you like. We’ve been looking for a boy to train and you have the determination, seriousness, and looks that we require. Would you like us to train you?” His arms flexed some more. My cock hardened and shifted in my pants. “Yeah, I’d love that, but I can’t afford trainers right now. I’m just a barista at a coffee shop!” They both laughed. “No, we don’t want your money! But, there are some things we would require from you.” The muscles on his big arms rippled, from his forearms to the top of his delts. I got a little lightheaded. “Like what?” I was excited about the prospect of training with them all the time and getting bigger. Terrell chimed in. “Well, you would have to do everything that we tell you to do. But, you’ve already proven that you can take direction, so that’s good.” He squeezed my leg with his hand, grazing the hardon in my pants as he did so. “And we would need to monitor your bodybuilding progress closely. Like making sure you eat and sleep enough, that you’re taking the right supplements, and taking proper care of your body.” I got even harder hearing Terrell say those words. I had always wanted someone to train me and make me bigger. “So that would require you moving in with us. We have a large brownstone where you would have your own room and privacy. It’s not that far from here.” My mouth dropped open. They wanted me to move in with them? I just met them yesterday! “Um, wow, that’s a lot to take in. I don’t know…” Tony reached under the table and grabbed my leg. “You can think about it. But we would pay for everything: room and board, food, and supplements. All you have to do is workout, cook and prep food, and grow. You wouldn’t have to work. We just want to make sure you grow as big as possible.” They were both looking at me and I didn’t know what to say. Could I just uproot my life and move in with these guys? But the idea was awfully tempting. I hated my job, I lived in a crappy apartment with a lousy roommate, and I always wanted to be big. Plus, I would get to spend time with two incredibly hot muscle daddies! “You know what, that actually sounds great to me. I’ll do it!” They both cheered. “Perfect, we can head over to our place right after we eat!” Terrell said just as the food arrived. We all dug in and happily devoured our meals. Part 3 is below
  10. muscleson

    Muscle House - Part 2

    Part 1 Part 2 – House Tour Joey and his new muscle bros guzzled their celebratory protein shakes, or at least Joey tried to. He struggled to ingest the one-gallon shake, while Bruno, Damon, and Hunter chugged them easily. He marveled at how quickly they finished, as they slammed down their jugs, wiped their mouths, and smacked their muscle guts in delight. “C’mon Joey, you gotta drink that whole thing,” demanded Bruno. Joey blushed. “It’s too much, I don’t know how you guys do it.” Bruno chuckled. “If you wanna get big, you gotta down it. Let me show you bro.” He moved in front of Joey and held the jug to his mouth. “Open wide bro.” Joey opened his mouth while Bruno started to pour the shake into it. “Chug! Chug! Chug!” they chanted while Joey swallowed mouthful after mouthful. Joey nearly choked, but he managed to drink the whole thing. “Fuck yeah bro!” they cheered and smacked him on his newly distended belly. His stomach was bloated, but he felt amazing. “Good job bro! Now let’s give you a tour of the place,” said Bruno. “You’ve seen the living room, and this obviously is the kitchen and dining room.” Tubs of protein powder lined the counters and a vast array of supplements and packaged foods stuffed the pantry. “We spend a lot of time here eating and cooking. We do meal prep on Sundays.” He opened the gigantic fridge door to reveal a mountain of meal containers and other food jammed inside. Joey gulped at the amount of food these guys ate and that he was about to eat. “I know it looks like a lot of food bro, but you’ll get used to it after a while. You’ll even get hungry for it.” “Let’s go upstairs to the bedrooms bro.” Bruno led the way, waddling along as his massive thighs moving around each other and his huge glutes bounced up and down. Joey’s cock throbbed at the sight. When they reached the top of the stairs, Bruno opened the first door. “So, this is will be your room bro.” Joey stepped in and was hit with that same scent of testosterone from before, making his cock twitch. The room was fully furnished and the walls were covered with pictures of bodybuilders, all flexing and posing. A few dumbbells laid on the floor. Dirty jockstraps and posers were strewn about the bed. “Sorry about the mess, bro. The guy living here just turned pro and had to move out real quick to go work with his new sponsor. So, he didn’t have time to take a lot of his things. We’ll clean it up before you move in.” Joey walked around the room, his cock getting hard at the sight of it all. “That’s ok, bro. You can leave it. I’ll take care of it.” “Sure bro!” Bruno responded. “C’mon, I’ll show you the other rooms.” They made their way down the hall and peered into the next doorway. The smell of testosterone was even thicker in there. “This is Damon and Hunter’s room.” It looked almost identical to the last room, complete with bodybuilder pics, weights, and dirty posers. “I thought everyone got their own room here,” Joey inquired. “There’s only three bedrooms and they don’t mind sharing. Helps on rent and bills and stuff,” replied Bruno. Joey noticed that the room only contained one bed. But it was a California king, so it looked like they could both fit in it. Further down the hall, they passed the bathroom. “This is the upstairs bathroom. We all share it, but there’s another one downstairs if you need it.” It looked normal enough, but Joey did notice a lot of syringes and vials on the counters. Was that what he thought that was? “And over here is my room.” Bruno turned sideways to fit through the doorway and entered. Joey followed, but without having to turn. The testosterone smell was the strongest here. Joey felt weak in the knees. The room was similar to the others, but larger. A massive bed sat on one wall and a platform surrounded by full length mirrors sat on the other. “What’s that for?” asked Joey, pointing to the platform. “Oh, that’s for posing practice. You can see yourself at all angles with the mirrors. Check it out.” Bruno tore off his tank, stood on the platform and struck a front lat spread. His hands set firmly at his waist, he spread his thick lats wide, grunting as he did so. Joey’s dick pushed hard against his jeans, making a visible tent. Bruno didn’t seem to notice as he was admiring his own muscles in the mirror. “Fuck bro, that’s fuckin’ sick! Come feel how fuckin thick my wings are!” Joey couldn’t believe what he heard and froze in place. “Bro, get over here and feel how big my lats are!” Bruno ordered. Joey obeyed and hurried over. He tentatively reached out and put his fingers on Bruno’s lats. They felt hard and dense, without an ounce of fat. “Go on, really feel them!” Bruno flexed harder with a deep grunt. Joey’s cock was throbbing as he squeezed Bruno’s muscles. They felt so strong and tough. He wanted to lick them. “Yo, Bruno! It’s time to train!” shouted Damon from downstairs. “Be right down, bro!” replied Bruno. “Looks like I can show you the last part of the house, bro.” “What’s that?” Joey removed his hand from Bruno’s body and adjusted his cock in his pants. “Our basement gym.” Bruno smiled cockily as they headed downstairs. Next - House Gym
  11. “Hey babe, you finally made it home!” Tyler brushed his longish brown hair out if his eyes and smiled warmly as his exhausted boyfriend Ethan entered the apartment door. Ethan, a short, stocky, black guy with horn rimmed glasses was still wearing his maroon scrubs from the pharmacy he worked at. He looked completely spent. “Yeah, I made babe…just barely” Ethan kissed Tyler on the lips (once the tall lanky Tyler lowered his head to Ethan’s shorter height). “I can’t wait to jump in the shower and just go to sleep” Ethan sighed. “Wha…what?” Tyler stammered, his entire body registering his disappointment. Tyler had taken the day off from his job as a stylist at the hair salon to make a special anniversary dinner for Ethan and it seemed like Ethan, in his exhausted state, had completely forgotten. “Oh…dang, sorry babe. I forgot about our anniversary. I’ve just been slammed at work lately, and…” Ethan trailed off as he looked into the heartbroken face of his adorable twink boyfriend. Ethan and Tyler had started dating in high school after meeting in Drama Club (where else)? And they had maintained their relationship through college and the start of their careers. But lately things had been getting strained in their once beautiful relationship. Work, life, stress had all gotten in the way. Tyler had planned this special anniversary dinner for Ethan in a last ditch attempt to salvage things. Ethan wanted to save their relationship too and knowing how much this evening meant to Tyler he steeled himself for the long night ahead. “Sorry, babe. What’s for dinner? I’m starving!” Ethan forced a grin. Tyler lit up with excitement and love. “I…I’m making a roast chicken, your favorite, but it’s not ready yet. Sit down on the sofa and I’ll bring you a drink”. Ethan flopped down on the sofa as Tyler scurried back into the small apartment kitchen in his “Kiss the Cook” apron. Ethan lay back on the sofa and closed his eyes for a moment when suddenly a loud bang shattered the silence. “What the..?” Ethan sat up on the couch as a series of bangs continued followed by the sound of deep grunting and low moans. As Tyler swished back into the room with a fruity cocktail and a charcuterie platter another louder thud knocked a picture off the wall. “What the fuck is going on?” Ethan stood up from the sofa incensed. “Oh…um…I think that’s our neighbor next door…um having sex?” Tyler sheepishly replied, his cute pale cheeks turning red. “That dumb muscle-head Lukas Daren? Fuck him!” Ethan was getting more and more angry. After a long hard day at work he just wanted a quiet evening at home with his boyfriend. A nice romantic dinner, maybe some Netflix and chill. But instead he had to listen to the dumb German bodybuilder who lived next door plowing some chick. Just then another loud thud, moan, and crash shook the apartment. “Fuck this! I’m going to say something” Ethan angrily stormed toward the door. “Just let it go babe. Have some charcuterie and your cocktail. Plus dinner is almost ready.” Tyler weakly called after Ethan. But he had seen that look in Ethan’s eyes before, determined passion, and knew his pleas were pointless. Ethan saw an injustice and he planned right it. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna give that big lunk a piece of my mind”. Ethan stormed out of the apartment door and right to his next door neighbor’s door. Ethan & Tyler had only met their neighbor Lukas Daren once when be had first moved in. The big, blond German fitness model was certainly some welcome eye candy in their building but they rarely saw him around. Ethan angrily pounded on Lukas’ door and put his hands on his hips. Ethan didn’t want trouble but he was determined to have a quiet evening at home with Tyler. Ethan could hear the banging and grunting stop after his second round of knocking and the sound of heavy footsteps coming toward the door. Suddenly the apartment door was yanked open and Ethan found himself standing face to pec with a mountain of muscle. “Yah? Vhat do you vant?” the massive German growled. Lukas was much, much bigger than Ethan remembered. Lukas was wearing a tiny pink thong and a short white silky robe that did nothing to cover this freakishly huge body. His hairline seemed to be receding fairly severely and his face and chest was covered with bad acne. His stomach protruded with abs still visible on his big muscle belly. “Jesus, what happened to this guy? Steroids much?” Ethan thought to himself, taken aback at the hulking man before him. Ethan was undeterred, “look, I live next door and my boyfriend and I are trying to have a nice quiet evening at home. So can you keep it down over here?” Lukas just stared at him dumbly for a minute before letting out a loud, hearty laugh. “What’s so funny you big muscle head?” Ethan was furious, and he definitely didn’t appreciate being laughed at. “Jesus Lukas, who the fuck is it?” a deep rich voice called from inside the apartment. “Yeah, come on dude. I’m not done eating out that sweet ass!” another deep voice purred. Suddenly Ethan, who had been so confident, was scared. Lukas glared at Ethan, his smile turning into a devious, evil grin. Lukas grabbed Ethan by the neck of his scrubs and yanked him into the apartment, slamming the door. “Hey guys, zis dumb fuck vants us to be quiet so he and his pussy boyfriend can make out in peace!” Lukas growled as he threw Ethan roughly onto the cum stained and broken sofa. “Oh really?” another huge muscle dude strode out of the bedroom wearing only tattered black boxer briefs. “Sounds like this fucker needs to be taught a lesson, don’t you think?” a third muscle beast appeared behind the first guy. He was completely naked and his tiny dick was dribbling gizz down his leg. Ethan realized that he was is big trouble. Tyler had been right, he should have just left well enough alone. Now here is was in his neighbor’s apartment with three massive muscle freaks threatening him. “Yah! Dis little fucker called me a muscle head. I tink he needs to see what being a muscle head is all about” — hold him down boys”. Nate and Zack (the other two muscle brutes) grabbed Ethan and held him tightly in their grip. There was no way Ethan could escape, they were just too big and strong. Lukas returned from the bedroom with a syringe filled with purple liquid. “Dis will teach you to not run your big mouth!” Lukas laughed. “No…please! Whatever you’re thinking of doing…please don’t!” Nate & Zack laughed as Lukas up-capped the syringe and jabbed it into Ethan’s chest emptying it. “Ughhh! Fuck! What did you just inject me with?!” Ethan moaned. “I…I…don’t feel so good!” Ethan clutched his chest as Nate and Zack let go of him. Lukas grinned “it’s time for za show boys!” Ethan grunted as a strange sensation overtook him. Tyler heard the apartment door open and then slowly close. “Hey babe! I guess you gave our neighbor a piece of your mind — it’s quiet over there. You’re just in time. Dinner is rea…” Tyler walked into the family room carrying the platter with the roast chicken and trailed off as he saw Ethan standing there. The shock of Ethan’s appearance caused him to drop the entire platter onto the floor. “Wha? Eth? Ethan? Is that you? Wha? What happened?” Ethan stood there in front of Tyler looking very, very different than when he left the apartment earlier. Ethan was still the same 5’5” in height but he looked to be three times as wide. His jaw was wide and covered with stubble, his hair was thinning on the top of his head. Two immense pecs jutted from his body, they were covered in hair and strained his scrubs to the breaking point. This huge muscle cleavage sat on top of a tremendous muscle gut. The hairy distended abs hung out from under his shirt causing it to ride up like a crop top. Ethan’s arms were massive and covered with thick veins. His huge arms and hairy forearms hung away from his body as his arms were supported by his wide, thick lats. Ethan’s legs had torn through his scrubs as thick mocha muscle peeked through the large tears. Ethan’s dick was hanging out of the fly of his scrubs, half hard and leaking precum — still big but smaller than it had been before the transformation. “Ethan! What the fuck did he do to you?!” Tyler cried hysterically. “I…I’m bigger now” Ethan mumbled dumbly in is much deeper, richer bass. “No shit!” Tyler whined, “I’m calling 911, we need to get you to a doctor and have that asshole arrested!” Tyler whipped out his cell phone frantically. “No. Don’t do that babe” Ethan grabbed Tyler’s cellphone from his hand and crushed it with his powerful grip. “Eth…Ethan?! Why did you…?” “I was always such a little fuckin nerd. But now, I’m so big…and strong…and powerful. I mean, fuck! Look at me.” Ethan raised his arms into a sick double bicep pose causing his scrub shirt to tear down the sides. “Ethan…this isn’t you. This isn’t right. I need to get you some help. Change you back.” Tyler was getting more and more hysterical. Ethan ripped off the remnants of the shirt revealing his hairy, acne covered pecs and gut in their full glory. “Fuck Tyler. Look at me. Don’t you like all this beef?” Ethan grabbed Tyler’s wrist and placed it on his warm, hard hairy pec. Tyler felt the full, striated muscle and massaged it gently. “Yeah!” Ethan moaned, “more. That feels nice babe”. Tyler lowered his face and nuzzled Ethan’s thick pecs, running his tongue across Ethan’s nipple and feeling the girth of his big bubble gut. “Ugghh…fuck yes!” Ethan purred in his deep bass. “Yeah, oh fuck Tyler. I can’t wait to be a big muscle couple” Tyler immediately pulled off of Ethan’s pecs. “Wha…what do you mean?” Tyler mumbled weakly. “The bros next door gave me a dose for you too babe” Ethan grinned an evil smile as he pulled a syringe out of back pocket and uncapped it. “Are you fucking crazy?!” Tyler screamed with the realization of what Ethan intended. “Come on babe. You’ll be so hot once you’re huge” Ethan grinned, his dick getting harder at the thought of skinny, pale Tyler growing big muscles. Tyler was completely in a panic, as he realized that he couldn’t get past Ethan and out the apartment door. Tyler ran to the bedroom and locked the door, then locked himself in the master bathroom. “Come on babe. You can’t escape, you know that.” Ethan purred, “but it’s sexy when you play hard to get”. Tyler didn’t know what to do. He was trapped. His phone was destroyed and there was no way out. His only change was to try reasoning with Ethan. I mean, sure Ethan’s body was surging with testosterone and steroids but it was still sweet little Ethan deep inside. Cautiously Tyler unlocked the bathroom door and then the bedroom door as well. The apartment was eerily silent. As Tyler crept down the hallway toward the family room he still couldn’t see Ethan anywhere. Tyler started to make a beeline to the apartment door and freedom when a deep voice growled behind him. “There you are, sexy” Tyler turned around and gulped. Ethan was standing there, totally naked in all if his bloated muscular glory. “Going somewhere babe?” Ethan purred. “Um…Eth…Ethan, just…um…let me go…ok?” Tyler stammered inching closer to the door. Having made it to the door Tyler quickly yanked it open only to come face to face with three huge bodybuilders. “Where the fuck you think you going little man?” the Latino bodybuilder growled shoving Tyler back into the apartment and slamming the door. Tyler tripped backwards from the powerful shove and right into Ethan. He felt a sharp prick and a stinging pain in his rear. “There…all done babe. You’ll see how it feels in a minute” Ethan grinned. Tyler watched in horror as Ethan tossed the empty syringe aside. Realizing that he had been injected with the same formula as Ethan and the other guys, Tyler panicked and ran back into the bedroom and locked the door. Tyler stared at himself in the full length mirror on the bedroom wall as a queasy, sickening feeling overtook him. “You feelin it yet babe?” Ethan rumbled from the other side of the bedroom door. “Ughh…shit!” Tyler moaned as his entire body was racked with pain. As Tyler watched in horror he saw his shoulders start to expand stretching his black polo shirt tighter across them. His jaw was starting to widen as well, turning inti a real lantern jaw as brown stubble spread across it. Suddenly Tyler noticed a swelling in his chest, he reached up an felt two mounds of muscle swelling under his polo. “Uuuuhhh…fuck…” Tyler whimpered at the sensation of his swelling muscle tits. Tyler could see his hair thinning on the top of his head while it grew longer in front covering his eyes, he brushed it aside to see that his arms were now almost bursting out of his polo. Thick purple veins covered his porcelain skin as big thick biceps and triceps stretched his shirt sleeves thinner and thinner. Tyler’s attention was now taken up by his swelling legs. Thick, muscular quads were ripping open his black skinny jeans. Tyler could feel his underwear being pulled tight by his swelling ass. Two big globes of hard muscle caused his boxers to shred open. Tyler’s shirt gave way at almost the same instant as his freakishly huge chest, arms, shoulders, and lats demanded freedom. Tyler watched in fascination as his thin midsection grew thick with muscle. First a six pack, then more striations, then finally a swollen muscular belly that hung from his brawny frame. Tyler looked back at his reflection in the mirror, his thicker neck and longer hair gave him the appearance more of a medieval warrior than a hair stylist. Hair sprouted across his mammoth pecs and arms along with terrible acne blemishing his pale skin and formerly flawless face. Tyler looked at the hideous muscular hulk he had become and moaned deeply “Oh fuck Ethan! What the fuck did you do to me?” Tyler opened the door and Ethan gasped at what he saw. Instead if his former twink boyfriend Ethan saw his new and improved bodybuilder boyfriend staring back at him. “Holy fuck Tyler!” Ethan moaned, taking in the huge bloated stud in front of him. “How do you feel?” Ethan purred running his hands along Tyler’s hard hairy pecs. “So, fucking strong…so big…so…sexy” Tyler whimpered in a deep bass. “You got that right babe!” Ethan purred as he cupped Tyler’s shrunken cock in his hand. “Oh fuck!” Tyler moaned, “I love so much” “Happy Anniversary, stud” Ethan whispered into Tyler’s ear before the two started grabbling with each other’s huge bodies. Meanwhile, next door, as Lukas, Zack, and Nate continued their orgy, loud bangs and deep guttural grunts could be heard coming from Ethan & Tyler’s apartment. “Don’t you just hate noisy neighbors?” Lukas laughed as Zack took his dick into his mouth while Nate plowed him from behind.
  12. Jeff was early for his monthly hair appointment as usual and had been feeling down in the dumps lately. Hopefully a fresh haircut would help boost his spirits. As the 48 year old college history professor locked his Ford Escape and walked toward the trendy salon, he couldn’t help but sigh. Jeff had been in the closet for his entire life, due to his family’s strict religious beliefs, but that left the aging professor very unhappy. Jeff was a typical nerdy college professor: black rimmed glasses, brown plaid shirt, tan khakis, sensible brown loafers. Everything about Jeff was very beige. Even thinning brown hair that was tinged with grey said “old and tired”. Jeff had been coming to Aventura Salon for a few years and although the trendy salon was far away from Jeff’s own not-trendy look, he liked his cute twinky stylist Tyler and always felt better after some pampering by the skinny, young guy with the longish brown hair that hung over his bright hazel eyes. Jeff entered the salon and was greeted by the receptionist, a pretty young woman with hot pink hair and piercings everywhere. “I…um, I have an appointment with Tyler” Jeff stammered, and then added with a blush “I…I’m a little early”. “The receptionist smiled, “Tyler is still with his previous client but I’ll tell him you’re here. Can I get you a water or anything?” “Um…no, I’m good. Thanks” Jeff stammered before grabbing a low black leather seat in the waiting room. The place was empty, the benefit of being the last appointment of the day on a Friday no less. Jeff began mindlessly thumbing through a copy of Vogue that was on the coffee table in front of him. After a few minutes a young blond women exited from the back room. And shortly afterwards Jeff heard the door open and an insanely deep, rich voice rumble “You ready Jeff?” Jeff looked up and gasped. Standing in the doorway was a huge, beefy, muscular hunk. The guy was as wide as the doorway and filled it with his boulder shoulders and huge, veiny arms. The guy’s black v-neck t-shirt was stretched to the limit by his massive pecs and shoulders. His thick ball gut caused the shirt to ride up a bit revealing his hairy torso. Chestnut brown hair also was visible on his ample pecs through the v neck of his shirt. The guy wore skin-tight distressed black jeans that hugged his powerful thighs and big butt. He had a neatly trimmed beard and had black spacers in each ear and his hair was thinning but hung low over his bright hazel eyes. “Jeff? You ok?” the guy’s deep voice rumbled. “Ty…Tyler?! Is that you?” Jeff stammered, his mouth going dry. “Yeah, man. I guess you haven’t seen my new look, huh?” Tyler grinned and raised his arms into a sick double bicep pose causing his shirt to ride up and reveal even more of his hairy turtle gut abs. “No…I mean…Jesus Christ! You’re…you’re huge!” Jeff blurted out. “Come on back man.” Tyler grinned, “hey Alicia, you can go. This is my last client and I can lock up”. The pink haired receptionist smiled and grabbed her purse. Tyler locked the door afterward before leading Jeff into the back of the salon. Jeff’s eyes almost bulged out of his head as he followed the ridiculously wide back and bubble butt of Tyler into the back room. Jeff would have followed that muscular ass and back just about anywhere. As Jeff sat in the barbers chair Tyler approached him “you like all this muscle, don’t you Jeff?” Jeff felt his mouth go dry as the hulking former twink struggled to get his own t-shirt off, tearing it open in the process. Jeff reached out and gentled touched the two massive hairy pecs that were in his face. “Oh…shit!” Jeff moaned as he grabbed the meaty orbs with greater force. Tyler leaned in and started kissing Jeff hard, burying his tongue in the surprised professor’s mouth. Just then Tyler’s phone started buzzing. Tyler pulled away and took at look at the caller. A picture of a thick black bodybuilder with horn rimmed glasses was on the screen. “Just a sec…I gotta take this” Tyler sighed. Jeff ogled Tyler’s massive back as the stylist tried to calm down whoever was on the phone. “Listen babe. I’m with my last client right now. I’ll be home in an hour. Will you just…stop being like that…fuck!” Tyler hung up the phone. “Problem?” Jeff asked innocently. Tyler sighed, “just my boyfriend. He gets really jealous and suspicious if I’m late coming home…” Tyler paused and licked his lips “so we’ll have to make this quick”. Tyler unzipped Jeff’s khakis and pulled out his half hard dick. “Uh…fuck yeah. I almost forgot what a big dick looked like” Tyler lowered his mouth onto Jeff’s cock. “Oh…fuck!” Jeff moaned as Tyler looked up at him. Jeff was going to mention that his average sized dick wasn’t really “big” but Tyler was too busy going to town on it. “Uhhh…fuck…I’m cumming!” Jeff whimpered as he shot his load into Tyler’s mouth and face. “Yeah, daddy. That was hot. Now how about you do that in my ass?” Tyler undid his belt and peeled his skin tight distressed black jeans down to reveal his muscular hairy legs and huge white ass. Jeff noticed how tiny Tyler’s own dick was and how much acne covered his back and shoulders. But to Jeff, it just made Tyler even sexier. As Jeff shot his second load into Tyler’s ass he roared with pleasure. Tyler stood up and smirked. “Now how about that haircut sexy?” As Tyler stood naked in all his beefy muscular glory cutting Jeff’s hair he explained about the super steroid and how his boyfriend has forcibly transformed him into a bodybuilder gear-head. “I’m mean, he turned me into this horny musclehead and then he gets jealous when I fool around with other guys?! What does he think I’m supposed to do?” Tyler grumbled as he finished cutting Jeff’s hair. “Whaddya think?” Tyler spun the chair around to face the mirror. “Do you…do you think you could get me some…some of that stuff?” Jeff stammered. “I thought you’d never ask…daddy” Tyler smirked as he pulled open a drawer at his work station and pulled out a syringe of purple liquid. “Are you ready to blow the fuck up?” Tyler grinned. “Oh hell yes!” Jeff pleaded, “make me a big muscle pig freak!” “You really want this? You gotta beg…daddy” Tyler smirked as Jeff started burying his face into Tyler’s hairy, beefy pecs. Tyler up-capped the syringe and jabbed the needle right through Jeff’s khakis. “Uggh…shit!” Jeff yelled as the serum coursed through his body. Tyler stood back and watched with a smirk on his face as Jeff started to sweat in the barber’s chair. Jeff could feel waves of pleasure growing in his muscles and he could feel sweat running down his back and soaking the pits of his plaid dress shirt. “Urrghh…fuck…it feels…so…” Jeff moaned “so…good!” Jeff’s nasal voice dropped three octaves on that last word. Jeff could feel his shirt sleeves getting tighter and looked down and saw that his chest was bulging out and straining his shirt. Suddenly his shirt burst open sending buttons flying into the wall. Huge beefy hairy pecs spilled out. Followed by growing abs that started to distend from his body. Jeff could feel his ass growing bigger raising him up in the chair. As his hairy thighs swelled bigger he could feel that he was straining against the sides of the chair. His khakis were no match for his powerhouse quads. Thick muscular legs burst through the tan fabric. Jeff could see big chunks of his hair falling onto his chest and he reached up to feel his newly bald head, marveling at the sheer size of his arm and bicep as he did. Tyler laughed as he ran his hand across Jeff’s newly bald dome, “fuck daddy, I guess you won’t be coming in for haircuts anymore!” Jeff looked at in the mirror and saw a massive muscular bald, bad ass staring back at him “I guess I’ll just have to come in for a blow job then“. Tyler laughed as he planted his lips of Jeff’s mouth, the two muscular behemoths groping each others bloated muscles, their hard muscle guts smashing against each other. Tyler whispered into Jeff’s ear “blow jobs won’t be as fun with that micro dick of yours daddy.” Jeff looked down and gasped in horror as he saw how much his average sized cock had shrunk in the transformation. Jeff rubbed his tiny nub and felt sticky cum on his large fingers “ohh…fuck, my dick dude!” “Just a side effect if all this massive muscle daddy.m” Tyler purred, “no pain, no gain right?” Just then Tyler’s phone went off again, causing him to break his embrace with Jeff. “Shit! It’s my boyfriend again. Sorry, we gotta cut this short before he shows up here and causes a scene”. Jeff smirked “No prob, but before I go, how much for another vial of that shit for a guy I know?” Jeff smiled an evil grin at Tyler. “Shit daddy, with that sexy bod, how could I say no?” Tyler pulled open the drawer of his styling station and fished out another syringe and placed it into Jeff’s beefy hand before answering the insistent ring of his phone. “Fuck Ethan! I’m on my way home right now. Just chill the fuck out…” Jeff heard Tyler on the phone with his boyfriend as he gathered the remnants of his clothes around him and headed to the parking lot.
  13. Jock Super smart Wristwatch A preface This is my first story, my English is not so good so I am using a translator. I apologize if the spelling or grammar is incorrect but that has never been my strong point. If anyone is interested in revising the story and improving the grammar and spelling then send a private message. and thanks to : @Azerreza @mrnonsense76 who have motivated me to try it nevertheless So now we come to the story Jock Super smart Wristwatch Kyle was a college football player (name of college) he had just gotten a scholarship. He was told that he could get the scholarship but he had to get his grades right. In the beginning Kyle had no problem because it was repetitive and he was able to get average grades until his sophomore year when it became noticeably difficult for him because he didn't understand a lot of things and at the same time he was under pressure from the football team to do a better job of presenting himself because the puppy dog rule was over. After a while of settling in, Kyle had to cut back on other things, which was cheaper than losing his scholarship. In the last game Kyle clearly noticed that the opponents had the advantage even if they won by a small margin, Kyle noticed that his body could not cope with the new demands, so he started watching to improve his body, which is why he had to do more sports after school and on weekends, which had an effect on his learning. As his body slowly got better, his grades slowly got worse which he didn't notice until a teacher told him that his grade point average was getting below average and recommended that he get tutoring to get better. Pissed off at the conversation Kyle swallowed the classroom door shut tightly on his way out. On his way out Kyle's stomach growled and he went to the nearest snack machine and bought himself a pair of protein bars to lower his stress which often helped and at the same time he was able to gain weight again. While chewing the protein bar kyle looked on the bulletin board and saw everything from room swaps, personal care, 450€ jobs, and then he saw a note your grades are getting bad and you do not know more then contact me I can help you I give only one person tutoring oh you want to know my name is Jay I am happy to meet you. Later after gym kyle looked where he could find Jay. Kyle had to go to the college basement that Jay works there alone. He knocked on the door. Jay was sitting in the lab and suddenly heard a knock on the door he thought who got lost here? So Jay said, "The door's open, you can come in. When Kyle heard he could come in he went in, he was a little scared that the room was so big but also saw Jay a typical nerd. Kyle froze for a moment when he saw Kyle, he never thought a football player would come here. Hi my name is Jay and I am a football player I saw your note while eating my protein bar regarding tutoring I would like to take it. Hey my name is Jay and I'm studying here for math and engineering. I'm having a problem with both of my math related classes getting more and more out of my grasp and of course my grades are getting lower as a result. Okay, Kyle, let me see if I can help you out. Yeah Jay thanks that would be good I have 1 condition I have a tight schedule I only have 1 hour for tutoring I can't give you more time than that so make the most of it Ok give me your stuff and I'll see what I can do. I'll be back in 2 days and I'll need my stuff back. the next day at the football game the coach was pissed that Kyle's performance had dropped drastically the coach threatened him if you don't bulk up in 2 months then that's it for you then you can look for another college !!!! . Kyle was now very tense the stress from studying and now stress from the coach had done something to him his head was so full that a couple of nerves were overloaded and they burst and Kyle suddenly realized that he had never had such a calm in the head but the burst nerves also led to kyle changing suddenly he didn't care about some things he just wanted to reach his goal to be a very good football player in school. Later when Kyle was home he decided to stop using the legal way to gain mass, he just thought coach wants me to have more mass on my body then he should get it. So he ordered steroids he didn't care about the side effects as long as his body got more mass. Jay was reading Kyle's stuff and had to laugh that it was pretty simple what he didn't understand. The more Jay thought about it the more he thought about Kyle with his big body, muscular big and Jay thought he saw some veins on Kyle's palm, Jay shook his head and tanned himself again and worked out a little plan for studying with Kyle. The next day Kyle went to Jay's house cursing in his head that he finally wanted the fucking steroids. When Kyle was almost at Jay's he knocked on the door again instead of softly with his fingers like last time he did it with his fist a couple of times but very hard, Jay was startled who was that? When the door opened he saw Kyle then he calmed down and said hey Kyle I made a study plan we can start right away if you want , Jay could smell and see that Kyle had been working out , all of a sudden he felt downstairs that he was getting aroused he had never had that before he quickly turned around so Kyle wouldn't see it , but Kyle saw it he pretended he didn't notice but realized that Jay was getting aroused by him , Kyle thought that could be interesting . Kyle took his bag and threw it on a table Jay said Loud HEY what are you doing !!!! don't you ever do that again!!! Kyle stood and grunted and walked over to Jay and said AB right now you talk quiet only I talk loud understood and squeezed Jay hand very tight to show who is the stronger one here. Jay got quiet and went to work with Kyle to study. Kyle liked the way Jay had made the study plan he had another exam next week and so he could prepare well Jay asked if it was all ok YES said Kyle's voice. When Kyle was gone Jay almost fainted because he couldn't get enough of looking at Kyle's body and he wanted to try to convince Kyle that he needed more help. Kyle got up the next day and saw a package lying in front of the door. Finally Kyle thought it was there he quickly took it and opened it and saw little bottles of steroids on it he grinned devilishly and thought now the fun could finally begin. Kyle immediately took a syringe and filled it up and injected it into his arm, he threw the syringe in the trash can and got his workout clothes time for sports. When he started he slowly noticed that he felt better and better and had more energy but he wanted to make sure with energy and another energy drink mixed with a protein shake. Without realizing it Kyle was almost 5 hours in the gym but he had never felt so good when he looked at the clock he saw that it was time for tutoring. Without showering with the clothes from yesterday he went to Jay, Jay was already waiting for him he again a loud knock on the door and said quietly come in, Kyle came in still slightly sweaty and threw his bag back on the table, Jay wanted to say something again but Kyle looked quickly at him and wanted to say nothing now, Jay had to drool in his head when he saw Kyle sweaty bathed his cock was also very excited, Kyle wore a thin T-shirt so Jay could see that Kyle's body had veins everywhere, Jay asked now we start with the tutoring or not!!! Yeah of course here after an hour she was done and Jay wanted to ask Kyle if we tutored more often or longer we could get more results Kyle stood up with a huff and took Kyle's hands and squeezed them so hard Jay almost had to scream in pain I hate to repeat myself I have a set schedule and it stays that way this is not important gym and football is important !!!! Next time you say anything, I'll break your fingers. Got it. !!!! With tears in his eyes and fear of Kyle Jay said yes that will never happen again, very good said Kyle. A few days have passed and Kyle has passed the exam well, also the steroids slowly showed their effect without Kyle noticing it also changed his mood he was very irritable and could get angry quickly that had Jay the last few days to feel Kyle looked more and more often at the scale and saw every day a larger number on the scale. The learning went well Jay found Kyle he also noticed that it stayed in his head better 1 week before Coach's deadline Kyle looked very different his attitude had changed he now had a lot more muscle and had gained quite a bit of mass but the team was starting to get scared because Kyle had become more aggressive and very irritable he didn't allow it when someone didn't show him respect. Weeks passed again and Kyle became more and more massive and muscular but his grades were now only bad he was angry and boiled with rage when it was time for tutoring again Kyle kicked in Jay's door and said friend from now on you will make a better plan or I will find someone else !!!! When Jay heard what Kyle said he was scared and erect at the same time, Jay became more and more in love with Kyle and couldn't imagine Kyle leaving him now so Jay said before Kyle left wait give me a week and I have a solution for you. I hope Kyle said you know how I feel about my time being wasted. !!!! . Kyle went home after Jay to get another steroid shot, then it was time for him to satisfy himself. Kyle worked out more and at the same time increased the steroid dosage he was always afraid if he didn't have anything. The coach was scared how Kyle was changing, he was getting scared of Kyle, Kyle wanted more and more special treatment in the team. I would appreciate your feedback
  14. Just a reminder: You can find BBMikeNJ's stories in the current iteration of the forum by looking here: https://musclegrowth.net/profile/3125-bbmikenj/content/?type=forums_topic&change_section=1 Ditto, you can find his earlier stories in the pre-2007 Archive by searching the Author Index for BBMSN. https://archive2007.musclegrowth.net/index-byauthor.html There are a good couple dozen stories that aren't in either place. As time permits (and I'm retired, so a project like this one is right up my alley) I will be re-posting them here (Mike has kindly granted me permission to do so!) -- RPJ The Juicehead By BBMikeNJ Prologue I still remember the first time I saw him at my gym. Big strapping hairy brute of a man. Muscle on top of muscle in a white string tank top, and gray sweats that did nothing to hide his enormous glutes. Or his big package, which flopped around every time he moved. It was almost impossible for me not to stare at him, and to make matters worse, he flexed out in the mirror after every set he did. One pose after another, his veiny, pro bodybuilder quality muscle rippling and swelling with the slightest move. At one point, while he was doing a double bi pose, he saw me looking at him thru the mirror. He winked at me, then chuckled as he went back to posing. It scared the shit out of me, the way he laughed. He reminded me of that guy Eddiebigmuscle on YouTube. Rough and kinda scary, like he could snap your neck without thinking twice about it. Unlike Eddie, who was covered with tattoos, this guy only had one, a big Italian flag on his left arm. When I dared to look at him again, he was doing a lat spread. His lats jutted out an extra foot on each side of his enormous back. I had to get out of there. On my way out of the gym, I asked Ted, the manager, "Who's the new guy in the back?" "The juicehead?" he said. "He blows thru here about once a year. I hear he just got out of prison...got a year for dealing gear." I walked out onto the busy city street and down to the corner. I waited for the light to change with a crowd of people, and when it turned green and we started to walk, I realized my heart was still pounding hard. I hated that I was so attracted to enormous goons who looked like they could pummel the life out of me. I'd been a gymnast in college, and now, at 25, was still fit and trim, but at 5'7, 150lbs, was not match for an ex-con that was about 6'5, 280lbs of solid muscle. I was about halfway across the street when I heard a voice behind me say, "What's your hurry?" I turned around and saw him looking down at me. It was a chilly day, but he still had on just a tank top and sweats, although now he had a skull cap on his head. I froze in my tracks, and so did he. People moved around him like he was a huge boulder in a stream. Almost everyone did a double take at the massive hulk as they walked by. "What?" I stammered. I managed to start walking again, and he moved along side of me as we crossed the street. "I saw you looking at me back at the gym, thought you might want something. Maybe a little cycle or something, looks like you could use a little more size on you." "Nah, that's ok," I said, walking faster. "I got some new stuff, would jack you up quick. I've gained 10 solid pounds in a week," he said, keeping up with me easily. "Even making my dick bigger," he boasted. As we passed a bodega, there was a bike leaning against a parking meter. He went over and got on it. Odd that it wasn't locked, but I assumed it was his bike. I figured he was riding away as he bounced off the curb onto the street and pulled out into traffic. He weaved in and out of cars. I wasn't all that surprised that no one honked at him, ‘cause the dude looked like he could rip a car door right off its hinges. He rode back up on the sidewalk and came up to me again. "Come on, little dude, try one cycle. You know you could use another 30 lbs. of muscle." He gave my arm a hard squeeze and laughed. He rode up ahead of me, making people scatter out of his way on the sidewalk. I heard someone behind me going, "Where's my bike?" I saw two policemen getting out of a parked patrol car up ahead, and assumed they would grab the massive bike thief. Just then, I was passing by a walkway between two office buildings, so I turned into it and headed to the street at the other end of it. I walked fast, hoping that he wouldn't come zooming up to me on the bike, police in pursuit. I continued on home, looking back every now and then. When he didn't show up again, I was relieved, but also disappointed. That night, I couldn't think of anything but the big juicehead. The way he towered over me in the street, almost menacing in his approach. The way he'd made that bike look so small, his huge legs pedaling around, quads so jacked up you could see the size of them thru his gray sweats. I got into the shower to jack off to him. I imagined him joining me, stripping off his tank top, his big nips and black hairy chest as perfect as the pro wrestler Tyler Reks, only bigger and thicker and stronger. Then he strips off his sweats and exposes his enormous hairy bodybuilder quads and calves, and steps into the shower with me in his jock. As the shower wets his jockstrap, I can see the outline of his thick 9-inch cock. He makes me soap up his immense back and scrub down his 280lbs of muscle. "290," he corrects me, then he strips off his jock and soaps up his hard-on. "Just like back in prison," he says, his voice an octave deeper than mine as he bends me over and fucks the crap outta me. I cum so hard my jizz almost flies up over the showerhead. That night, in bed, I feel ashamed and dirty. So ashamed and dirty that I jerk off to the thought of being thrown into prison and ending up with the big juicehead as my cellmate. I went back to the gym the next day at my regular time. "Hey Ted," I said as I swiped my card. "Hey, Rick," he said, barely glancing up from his laptop. He was used to me coming in at this time. Ted was a big dopey jock, and I had the hots for him. He reminded me of Levi Johnston, if Levi was a solid 240lbs of muscle. Ted was real friendly and had a laid-backed confidence that seems to come with that 'big jock' territory. I went to the locker room to change, and when I came out, I headed for the stairs that led up to the second floor of the gym, where all the cardio equipment was. I try to do at least a ten minute warm-up on the treadmill before lifting, and then maybe more at the end of my workout, depending on time. As I turned the corner to the stairwell, there was the big juicehead from yesterday. Only he wasn't alone. He was on the stairs, intertwined with Jessica, one of the personal trainers at the gym. They were making out like two teenagers in heat, sprawled halfway across the stairs, making it next to impossible to get past them. I could see where a straight guy would find Jessica hot, with her long dark hair and big fake tits. She looked like J-Woww from the Jersey Shore. The juicehead was kissing her deep, and groping her tits so hard he was practically lifting her off her feet. At one point, they stopped kissing, and Jessica said, "Ohhh, Ant Knee, Ant Knee". It took me a second to realize that she was saying "Anthony" in her thick Brooklyn accent. I found myself frozen in place. I wasn't quite sure if I should say anything, or just try to squeeze by them on the steps. Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me say, "Come on, guys, get a room. People have to use the stairs" It was Ted. Jessica and the big brute broke their embrace and looked over at us. "Oh, sorry Teddy," said Jessica, pushing her mussed up hair out of her face. I knew that she and Ted had gone out together a couple of months ago, so it couldn't have been easy for him to see her being mauled by the 290 lb. musclehead, but when I looked back at him he just rolled his eyes at me. "Yeah, sorry about that, bro," said Anthony. He leaned back against the wall of the stairway and made an exaggerated sweep with his big left arm, while he adjusted the crotch of his sweats with his right hand. "Go ahead, little dude," he said to me. I made my way up the steps, trying not to look at either one of them. The cardio area has a row of treadmills facing out a wall of windows. I went over to one and started my usual workout. I wasn't on it for a minute when I heard someone getting on the treadmill right next to me. It seemed odd, given that there were a lot of empty treadmills that weren't next to anyone. Then I looked over and saw 'Ant Knee', dropping his gym bag next to the treadmill and climbing on. My heart started pounding faster than it should have given the pace I was walking at. God, he was huge. I heard the poor treadmill creak as he stepped onto the sides of it. He turned it on, set the speed, and raised up the angle. I had to look over and see what he set it for....6 mph at a 15% angle. I looked up at him, and he was staring right at me as he put his feet on the belt and started walking. "Where'd ya go yesterday, little dude?" he asked me. I disliked that he was calling me that, and especially because it turned me on. "I had to get home," I said. "Did the police stop you?" He laughed. "Those two schlubs are customers of mine. After a month on that shit I was telling you about, they're both busting the seams of their uniforms with new muscle. They stopped me yesterday so they could thank me." I looked at him in disbelief, but I knew he wasn't making it up. We walked for a couple of minutes in silence, but then I said to him, "I wouldn't have pictured you as the type to do much cardio." He chuckled again and said, "Yeah, never did till I started on this new gear. Now, just walking bloats my legs with pump. Check this out." He put one foot on each side of the belt. Then he leaned over and pulled up the leg of his sweatpants nearest to me, exposing his big hairy calf muscle. He flexed it, and as it balled up, the muscle jutted out to the side like the peak of a biceps, big and thick as Erik Fankhouser, if Erik was 6'5" tall. "20 inches cold," he said. "They'll swell to 22 by the time I'm done here. Then I go down and work them on the calf machine. Blast the shit outta them. And you should see the quads, little dude. I always had big veins. Now I got rivers of them. Rivers. I can feel them throb in between sets. And the sweep of the muscle is friggen mind-blowing. I could out-flex a pro with these legs, and they're just getting bigger. And now it's time to get them burning." He raised the angle of the treadmill to 20%, upped the speed to 12 mph, and started jogging. I was holding onto the arm bars to keep from sliding right off my machine. The thump-thump-thump of his huge Fankhouser-sized legs hitting the belt was pounding into my head. I stepped off my machine and turned it off. "You done already?" he said with a smirk as he jogged harder. His face was glistening with sweat, a bead of it rolling down thru his thick stubble. "Yeah, I gotta get going," I said, my head spinning. "Don't hurt yourself, little dude. Anytime you need a little boost, just ask." And he winked at me. I wasn't even hard, but I was pretty sure I came a little in my shorts. I started my workout, although I was pretty much just going thru the motions. All I could think about was the big juicehead upstairs. After about a half hour, he came down. It was worse than I'd imagined...or better, depending on how you looked at it...or him. His white string tank was wet with sweat, and clung to his big torso like a thin skin. At the first mirror he hit, he stopped and started posing. His double bi shot made the tank slide up his abs, exposing the bottom of his rock hard, flat-as-a-board stomach. My eyes were pulled to his ass, where his big globe glutes had sucked the fabric into his deep crack, which was totally soaked thru with his ass sweat. He went over to the squat rack and loaded the bar with a 100-lb. plate on each side. He did a 20 rep warm-up set with 245. Then he added 200 more pounds, and did another 20 reps. Then he added another 200lbs, bringing the bar to 645. But before he did his set, he pulled his tank off, wiped himself down with it, and tossed it aside. Then he pulled his sweatpants up over his calves and flexed them sideways in the mirror. Then he hit a most-muscular pose in the mirror, growling as he leaned toward his reflection. His back muscles rolled and swelled with size, especially up by his scapulas, where it looked like two musclebound aliens were trying to bust thru the skin, mounding and writhing with power. Then he ducked under the bar, rested it on his thick neck and traps, and did 15 slow, deep reps. He racked the bar and picked up his wet tank, wiping his face off. His chest heaved up and down as sweat matted his thick chest hair and rolled down his torso. I tried to focus on my own workout, but it wasn't easy. I heard him loading more 100-lb. plates to the bar, and got dizzy as I heard the heavy plates clanging as he banged out more reps. I did some sets of my own in another part of the gym, and the next time I looked over at him, he was doing donkey calf raises with the entire stack of the machine, plus four 100-lb. plates added to each side. Sweat was dripping off his nose and chin. I couldn't take anymore. I went into the locker room, opened up my locker, and sat down in front of it, trying to clear my head. I decided not to shower, and just wiped off with my towel. Not that I had sweat that much anyway, but wiping off my face helped bring me back to earth. I tossed the towel into my gym bag and stood up to leave. And there he was, standing at the end of the row of lockers looking at me. Ant Knee. "You like the show in there, little dude?" His intense leg workout had pumped his whole body up beyond anything I thought possible. Thick veins ran up and down his thick arms and across his delts and chest. He took a couple steps toward me, and I staggered back. "You ever seen anything like this?" he said, sweeping his fingers down his torso. His hairy 8-pack heaved in and out as he breathed. HIs big nips jutted out thru his swirling chest hair. Then he came at me, grabbed me with one hand under my armpit, lifted me like a feather and slammed me up against the lockers, high enough that I was face to face with him. I could smell the thick musk of muscle coming off him, rank and pungent, and entirely intoxicating. "Tell me you don't want size and power like this. This gear is like nothing I ever took before. I can feel it coursing thru my veins, feeding my muscle. Look at this," he said, and he opened the locker next to me and ripped the door off its hinges. Then he squeezed it in his hand and I watched as his fingers made the metal bend and crumple. Then he shoved it into the locker. "This shit has changed my DNA. I am friggen unstoppable. A fucking god. A superior species. Imagine me fighting a normal man...." "Everything OK in here?" I turned and saw Ted standing at the end of the lockers. I never would have thought that Ted would look small, but right then he did. "Everything's fine," I said hurriedly. "You sure?" Ted said with a frown on his face. "Yeah, Teddy, you heard the man. Go the fuck away," snarled Anthony. Ted took a step toward us. "It's OK," I said. I did not want to see Ted have to tangle with the massive crazy juicehead. "I had a cramp in my shoulder, Tony's just rubbing it out for me." "What happened to the locker door?" "I fell against it when my shoulder cramped." "That must have been some cramp," said Ted. "Yeah, it was," I said, "Good thing he was here to help out." "Uh huh," Ted said suspiciously. As he headed out of the locker room, he said, "You two try not to break anything else, OK?" "Sure thing, Ted," I said. When he left, Anthony put me down and said, "I'd break that guy in two." "Leave him alone. What do you want from me?" "I want to see what a cycle of my gear would do to a squirt like you. See if I can turn you into a mass monster." He put his hand on my crotch. I was already hard, and his touch made me arch my head back against the lockers. I reached out and put my hands on his lats. I could feel the iron hardness of his muscle. He pressed harder. "Aw yeah, I knew you wanted it. I'll make you big as Branch Warren, and so strong you could take your friend Teddy there and toss him around like a 3rd grader." He rubbed his hand on me harder. "I'll turn you into a god. Then I'll let you try and take me on. Winner take all." I arched into his grip and he squeezed my dick hard. I groaned as I came in my shorts. More to cum…
  15. MegaMassiveMuscleMonster

    Mega-Massive Muscle Meghan

    First time posting content on this forum... Thad this story floating around on other sites for a few years now. It’s still relatively short because I don’t often have the motivation to WRITE erotica, if you know what I mean CH. 1 "Graaarrr, I need to grow BIGGGEERR!" CLASH. Two 500 lbs dumbbells flew across the fully stocked basement gym, cracking the concrete walls. "Get in here NOW babe," bellows Meghan as she slowly raises her massive 750 lbs muscled bulk off a now busted bench. Her husband Nate rushes down the reinforced concrete and steel staircase, carrying a tray of hypodermic needles. Steroids. Lots and lots of steroids. No sooner did he reach his wife, when she flexed a massive most muscular pose, roaring like a lioness as her enormous upper body exploded, her mass swelling to three times it's 'relaxed' state. Meghan's outburst had its desired effect, as her husband's erection grew. "Hurry up and inject me Natey poo, your giga-huge muscle monster of a wife needs her juice if she wants to GROW even more MASSSIVVEEE!" Nate grins, and begins the injections, one in each muscle group. As the highest quality anabolic drugs flood his wife's blood stream, Nate asks, "Do you think you've gained any inches on your arms since earlier?" Turning to the full length mirror behind her, the former Sports Illustrated bikini model appraised her muscle bound physique. Smirking, she slowly lifts her muscle bound arms to vertical, her exercise ball shoulders crushing her ears. Even unflexed, her thick, meaty, golden tanned triceps dipped 2 whole feet below her elbow. Without bending her arms, Meghan clenches her dainty, feminine fists, causing her ripped, bulging masses of pure female muscle to rise into arms 85" around. Meghan purrs in sexual delight, warning Nate of the impending erotic explosion of flesh. Like a crane, she gradually cranks her arms up, every inch her fists move upwards causing a half doze inches of solid beefy bicep to rise. Her rugby sized forearms finally collide with her biceps at a 60 degree angle. Over 3 feet of brawny bicep, combined with her massive triceps make her majestic arms 6 feet tall, far above his 5'8" wife’s head. "Measure them now sweetie!" Nate rushes to get a step ladder and measuring tape, his erection ready to burst. Standing on the ladder, Nate can't help but feel tiny next to the beastly mass of Meg. Standing 6'1, at 275lbs, Nate is no small man. A bodybuilder himself, the former college lacrosse player, and current U.S Marine Colonel was used to being in control. Placing his large tough hands on his wife’s surprisingly smooth silky skin, and feeling the steel underneath sent his control out the window. Your arms are 230" baby girl! "That it she says?" Meg pouts her luscious lips, and shakes her head causing her long golden locks to become messy. "I can't look small for my man. Just look at my pathetic little chicken wings, I'm withering away for christ sake. Hold on, let me pump some." As the uber buff Meghan walks to her weight rack, her near half-ton weight cracks the floor, each step a mini-quake. Falling to the floor from the ladder, Nate looks up at the 7 ft wide back of his goddess wife. Unable to turn her head, Meg blows him a kiss in the mirror, flashing a sultry, movie star smile. "Want to watch me GROW?...." CH. 2 In 2013, Meghan Wakefield was a sophomore marine biology major at UNC Chapel Hill. A bright young woman, with devastating beauty, and a bombshell body, she was a true southern belle, at the top of the world. She was captain of the cheering team and Class President. Her long blonde hair, perky C breasts, big bright green eyes, and long athletic legs easily got her a modeling career with Sports Illustrated. She ended u meeting Nate over Spring break 2014, in Florida. Nate, a handsome country boy, and a Harvard law student, was in town for his lacrosse teams championship. Little did they know that they're lives would be forever changed. CH. 3 Laying on the floor of his custom built basement gym, Nate had the perfect view of his perfect woman. Not four feet from him was the most massively muscular, most insanely jacked female. Make that the most muscular HUMAN ever. Only two years ago, Meg had been a fit, long legged bikini model; what stood before him now was a monstrous musclebound goddess, of giga-proportions. At a mere 5'8" tall Meg was at least 11 feet wide from exercise ball sized shoulder to exercise ball sized shoulder. Her aircraft carrier back alone was 7 feet wide. "Honeybuuun, whatchya doin?" drawled Meghan. "Quit daydreaming and pay attention. Y'all don't want to miss the show do you?" Taking slow, deliberate and quaking steps, Meg went to the far end of her dumbbell rack, her oversized oil drum thighs forcing her to waddle. "Let's see, those light 500 lbs single arm bicep curls barely warmed me up. I got to go REALLY heavy to impress my big strong Marine." Picking up a 700 lbs dumbbell in each hand, Meg turns toward the mirror and starts repping out alternating hammer curls at a blistering pace. "Oh yeah baby, ohhh yeah! LOOK AT ME! Have you ever seen arms this fucking huge? Oh god am I hot, like I AM SOOO MASSIVE I FRIGGEN LOVE HOW THICK I AM!" Rarrrrrrg! With a ear spitting roar, Meg rips out 1 more curl and with massive power hurls the quarter ton weights at the wall, embedding the steel two feet into the concrete walls."I am THE MUSCLE GODDESS! Look at these biceps, they must weigh 150lbs each! Your muscle freak wifey gained 50lbs in the last 15 minutes alone!" With a coy grin, knowing it will rial his wife up, Nate says, "Babe your arms are pretty big, but your chest and legs look a little small..." With a smoldering look in her gorgeous green eyes, the 800 lbs female behemoth growled, "I'm just getting started." CH. 4-6 So swole. So thick, so wide, so meaty. So...fucking. Sexy. Meghan was staring vainly at herself in the mirror waiting for her husband to come back with her next round of steroids. God I love juice, thought Meghan, almost as much as I love muscles. Hearing the basement door, she quickly clenched her glutes, giving Nate a spectacular view of her ass. Each cheek was the size of medicine ball. "Bet you could bounce a quarter off this ass huh babe." "You could bounce a bowling ball off that butt Meg," smiled Nate, as he began injecting the steroids into his wife's glutes, hamstrings, and calves. As Nate bent down to inject her calves, Meg suddenly raised up on her dainty feet. Nate had always been a leg man. Meghan had legs alright. Flexing down hard, Meg's calf kept getting thicker and thicker, until it was easily bigger than a basket ball, bulging a foot and a half from the back of her leg, and so wide that even with her legs spread, her calves rubbed against each other. Knowing she had him now, Meg cooed, "Just wait until I actually do some lifting before you cum all over my beyond huge calve." " But let me pump up my sexy little quads first okay pumpkin?" The mere act of dropping back down to her feet caused a massive shudder to rattle the gym. Walking to the squat rack was more difficult than it should have been, given the insane mass of her planet shaking quads. "Ohhh wow does that feel good. I just love knowing my weight alone cracks reinforced concrete. Imagine what would happen if I actually tried, imagine the POWER I posses. Taking her place in the squat rack, Meg unracked the bar and raised it to her shoulders. She was so wide that Nate had to specially build the entire set up, and the bar was made of 4" diameter titanium. Every inch of the bar was filled with 200 lbs weights, bending the super strong bar. 20 plates total plus the 200 lbs bar meant Meg was about to squat 4200 lbs...Jeesh, thats as much as my truck Nate realized. "Hey stud, get a load of this." Meg was so built, she couldn't even reach proper form, her ultra huge hamstrings and ass slamming into her lower legs preventing her from going lower. "2 tons is sooo taxing on my tiny little legs Nate. Can you 'cum' spot me pleeasse." As he went behind her, Meg yelled, Never mind, just kidding! And proceeded to push the weight up over her head, holding it there, and with a massive grunt, heaved the entire 4200 pound bar up, sending it through the ceiling and into the next story of the house. "Dammit, there is no weight in this house capable of quenching my thirst for pump. There is no weight on EARTH that my genetically superior mega muscle won't lift. I am UNSTOPPABLE!" Nate was worried now, he'd never seen her this way. "Baby I am the strongest woman in the universe!" "Just think about my power, my strength. All I want is MORE MASS. MORE POWER. MORE MUSCLE! Measure my legs before I work my beastly chest!" Slightly unnerved at the dominating tone, Nate grabbed the tape.He literally couldn't fir his hand between Meg's thighs, there was just that much beef. Each redwood thigh was 5 feet wide and almost as thick as he was. " 270" quads must be a record hun!" "Hey babe. Measure my calves before I squish you like a pancake between these record breakers." "115" calves! Holy shit!" From his knees, Nate looked up to try and see his wife's expression, but could only see her chest. Meghan suddenly laughed, her entire body swelling with new found beef as she inhaled more and more air. "The power the strength, the mass! What a rush!" she screams as she plows a fist into wall. Nate falls on his back, now afraid. His wife just put a 3 foot deep crater into walls built to survive a nuclear explosion. Lifting her foot, Megan slams it down between Nate's legs, sending cement flying with a massive boom as her leg is buried to her knee. "Take a good look at this monster leg you skinny little runt. See the size difference? You are NOTHING compared to me! I could tear you to shreds!" Meg strides to the weight rack again, sinking deep into the floor with every step."This will blow your mind!" Bending over, she grabs the rack, and LIFTS THE ENTIRE THING UP TO HER WAIST. "See my power? Just think what 300" arms can do! No, watch what they can do!" With an orgasmic roar, Meg begins curling the 3 ton rack to her chest. Her now uber pumped biceps only manage 6" before they meet her now truck tire forearms. "You think this is heavy? You think this is as big as I can get? You think I'm fucking big now ?" " Well I'm going to school you in the personification of ENORMOUS!" Taking a deep breath that expands her mass by 50%, she violently throws the rack into the wall, causing massive destruction and shacking the entire foundation. Flexing a jaw dropping crab pose, Meg orders Nate to get the rest of her steroid supply."Got to get bigger bae, the only thing I want is pure mass. Pure muscle. I must weigh 1,000 lbs, but the body you see before you now is a 90 lbs weakling compared to whats next." Throwing her head back in ecstasy , Meg roars, "I WILL GROW EVEN BIGGER!" Shit, shit, shit, Nate mutters to himself as he sprints up the basement stairs at a break neck pace. Bursting into the kitchen, he races towards the double door fridge where Meghan's steroids are kept. Might as well grab it all, he says to himself, as he picks up 22 syringes of a secret, experimental steroid designed by the DOD. Nate cringes as he here's more concrete crack; knowing the bill to repair today's damage will put a decent dent in his savings. I guess that's the price to pay for having the worlds hottest wife. Turning to the door he looks down toward the end of the hall where the dust is still settling from a 4,200 lbs weight shooting through the floor. Nate almost falls down the stairs as the entire house rumbles and shakes. "Rarrgggg! HAH, puny steel! Feel the power of my super pumped muscles!" Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Nate sees Meghan flexing over what was previously the dumbbell rack, only now it looks like an accordion, shoved deep into the foundation. Dear lord, it took 6 of my men to to lug that down here last month... "Honey bunches! Oh look, more juice! Is that for me? Ohh, you shouldn't have!" "Look honey, look at that pathetic piece of crap you call steel. Weaker than butter if you ask me Get to the injections, I just love how I feel right now. Like, I'm literally 4 times the size of you! My strength is superhero shaming, but my size is the real turn on." Raising her arms out like the goddess she is, Meg whispered, "Make me grow my king." Nate's more than happy to oblige. Five minutes later, he takes a step back, stepping around the now empty syringes, kind of looks like a heroin addict lives here, he thinks. Almost like she could read his mind, Meg coos, "I'm a muscle obsessed, steroid junkie addicted to getting bigger, gaining more and more massive muscles is all I think about. I'm by far the largest bodybuilder history has ever known. My bicep alone is bigger than Jay Cutler's entire body. And just think babe, I'm not done. No. Not even close. In fact, look at this." Stepping on the heavy duty scale in the corner; that he'd bought from the local zoo (to weigh elephants, rhinos etc...), she sent the numbers on the screen reeling. 700lbs. 850lbs. 1000lbs. 1200lbs. Good lord, Nate mumbles. Finally, the readout stops at 2050 pounds."Just think Nate. Your mega massive muscle wifey weighs over a TON! And I just took even more roids! Grrrg! Roooaaar! More! Yeeeess, I can feel myself growing, I can feel myself getting heavier! Just flexing is adding serious mass. I AM POWER! LOOK AT ME NATEY POO, I JUST GAINED 100 LBS FROM FLEXING MY ARMS! You better run for your life, because this house is comin down y'all." CH. 7 It was approaching dawn when the entire gated community of Orchard Heights shook to its foundations. Raaaarrggg! Mother fucker get bigger!!!! Megan bellowed as she again slammed the mangled remains of Nate’s trucks together. She’d been repeating this motion for well over 4 hours now, trying to work her monstrosity of a chest. Meghan was getting angrier and angrier with ever “rep” as each 10 foot wide pectoral would swell immensely and crash into each other with enough force to create a sonic boom. Her chest stuck out 14 feet in front her so it was impossible to do a normal bench press. That and her biceps which were each pushing 6 feet WIDE and even thicker. Her bicep alone was almost 200” flexed. Her tricep was 2/3 bigger!!!! Her muscles were not ripped, or shredded, or any other word that could describe a human being. She’d long surpassed that species. The definition between muscle groups was insane. Sickening. Her shoulders were so jacked that when she raised them a mere 6 inches, her head was at risk of being sheared right off. She liked the pressure though. It wouldn’t be impossible to create diamonds if you placed a lump of coal between her striations. In her hands, she had taken two military hummers of Nate’s, grabbing the bumper of each one and swinging them in together to simulate the pec deck motion. Only she was single handled swinging a 7,700 lb armored vehicle by its bumper. (The US Army took some pride in that engineering marvel) Nate had once seen a strong man take one end of an Olympic barbell and raise it straight out in front of him. He held it horizontally with one hand for maybe minute before his arm shook and he dropped it. The exercise worked stabilizers and forearms etc.. Meghan was doing a similar movement. With 8 plus tons. Meg’s bright white and pink, size 6 Nike Shoxs and thick pink hooters slouch socks were planted firmly on the pavement, which itself was no longer very firm, considering a woman who weighed more than an African elephant was pressing down on it with immense strength and power. Her insanely tight white yoga pants that could cover a circus tent, despite barley serving on her, were stretched so tight that her deeply tanned skin shown through completely. The military had wanted to design a new material similar to Spandex, that would be bullet proof and tear resistant. When Nate had heard about it, he figured Meg would be the perfect test for the material. Her monster quads and hamstrings were slowly but surely bulging so massively that the thread was coming unstitched. So much for that, better luck next time DOD. Freakishly inhumanly thick traps throbbed far above her head, they peaked more than a yard above her hair. Her shoulders, pecs, and traps already enveloping her head, each rep smooshing her almost to point of strangulation and blocking her entire view. All she could see when her arms were raised was her own musculature... and as far as she was concerned, there simply wasn’t enough of it. With her arms straight out holding the trucks, her triceps dipped low. Hanging like a side of beef was incorrect...her triceps were bigger than the whole cow! Hanging so low they merged with her “wide as a barn door back. Once again, misleading because her back was bigger than a whole barn! Much bigger! Her back was pushing 30 feet wide at this point. That’s 360 inches. 914 cm. Bigger than an entire Mr. Olympia lineup combined. And then multiplied by two! With her biceps peaking over her head and her triceps dropping so low they hit her knees (they literally pressed down into her massively exaggerated wide hips and quads) she would take a deep breath and then tense her enormous chest muscles, bringing her arms as close together as possible and really squeezing her pecs. The sight was ridiculous. The noise was deafening. The air sizzled with the heat of her raw sexual, beastly power and mind warping size. Sweat glistened and dripped flowing down the huge cuts in the chest muscles, turning to steam in the brisk morning air of New England. Pure raw power. Pure sex. Pure MUSCLE. The quiet gated suburb of Orchard Heights was alive with the sound, sights and smells of Meghan Wakefield erotically pumping her massive muscles. Held in her deceptively dainty well manicured hands were two military humvees weighing 4 tons each. “Fucking look at me and tremble you scrawny bitches, look at this power this size! MY power! MY size! Im unstoppable!” I AM POWER! I AM MUSCLE! I’m the most insanely pumped up, super humanly strong, mega-ultra-super-heavy weight bodybuilder! I am the most muscular living thing to ever exist or ever will! Worship me as I obsessively pump myself even more massive!” Meghan roared, to nobody in particular, but yet for all the world to here. Of course, the neighborhood had been evacuated hours ago when the “earthquake” struck. Or at least that was what the news was calling it. Technically, there WAS an earthquake, or better yet, a “Megha-quake” if you will. After destroying the basement, Meghan’s roid- induced mania and wild, driven desire to bulk up went into overdrive. Against Nates adamant pleas to calm down, Meg had pulverized the entire basement and house when she tried to exit the basement. Walking up the stairs proved unsuccessful as her giga-weight was so heavy she completely crushed the heavily reinforced concrete and steel stairs when she stepped on them. The futility of the construction had enraged Meghan and she hulk smashed the stairs into crumbling bits. With hellfire in her eyes, Meghan had turned full on to Nate and flexed an ab and thigh pose so huge that her quads and chest actually knocked him over. Roaring with spit flying, she’d proceeded to crank her arms up and down over and over again, squeezing and flexing her monolithic traps and shoulders until they were bright red. Then she spied the old weight rack in the corner where Nate kept his weights. Giggling like a crazed school girl, Meg pounded her way to the rack and proceeded to upend it with one arm. Maneuvering her other arm into position, she hurled it across the room like a soccer player might do with a ball. A steal I-beam floor hoist was torn from the ceiling and sparked another idea. “Babe, I’ve always hated that you built this house with such roomy ceilings, it really makes me feel short. But I think I know how to even the score. Watch my fucking power babe! Meg ripped the I beam the rest of the way out of the ceiling and started swinging it over her head like a club, tearing through the floor and utterly demolishing the rest of the house. Nate cowered in the corner to avoid being hit by all of his nice things that were now falling hazardously around him from upstairs. To say he was scared shitless at this point was an understatement. Meg had gone completely off the rails and was a literal ton of roid-raging muscle and fury. (If not more). Who are we kidding, it was way, way WAY more. At some point Nate must have lost consciousness from fear/arousal because when he woke up, he was covered in concrete dust surrounded by remnants of what was once his beautiful home. Meghan was no where in sight but he could hear her animalistic, predatory grunts from the front yard. Nate quickly pulled out his phone to contact his security team at the Pentagon. Things were going bad fast. Worriedly wondering why Meg was grunting, he’d no sooner heard his office secretary answer when the quake hit. Knowing better, Nate wobbled over to the massive hole in the basement wall to see Meghan standing in the driveway with his Porsche flattened at her feet. She’d managed to jump (who knows how high) and came down like the hand of god on his prized 911. Still on the phone, his secretary was going crazy, “Oh my God, Sir, are you okay what’s going on omg!” “Wake up SecDef and alert Homeland and the President... not sure how this will end. And I want this area under an immediate mandatory evacuation order.” Now recovered from his shock, Nate was beginning to get royally pissed. His million dollar home was destroyed. His $150 super-charged Porsche was now a candy apple red pancake and he was pretty sure his insurance didn’t cover “acts of enraged muscle monster?” “Meghan Marie, calm down right now!” Nate bellowed her middle name in anger. (Maybe yelling at your girlfriend who weighs more than your HOUSE was a bad idea in hindsight.) Not bothering to turn around, Meghan’s voice effortlessly boomed, “you are an insignificant RUNT compared to my awesome godly power and I could literally rip you into pieces. I won’t because I love you obviously but it would be this easy.” She picked up the flattened Porsche and ripped it in half like paper, her biceps and forearms bulging and growing and thickening even further. “To make it up to your goddess you will worship at my feet and tell me how huge I am.” It had been around that time that Marines from Nate’s unit arrived and evacuated the street. The neighbors were being debriefed and fed the official story of “just an earthquake.” Of course, 2.0 earthquakes weren’t totally uncommon in New England but still.
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