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Hello everyone! I've had this story bouncing around in my head for quite some time now, and I'm happy to finally put it into words. There's a bit of setup before any growth, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Chapter 1 He was sitting at the end of the bar when I first laid eyes on him. He was handsome, with a clean jaw and short jet black hair that was swept back. He wore a purple button-up shirt and maroon velvet pants. In the oppressive Hanoi summer heat, those clothes must have been stifling, yet his easy demeanor and cordial smile showed no discomfort. That was Tam, all right—always choosing style over comfort, always jovial. Of course, back then, I only saw him as my next conquest. Just someone new to sink my cock into for the night. If only I'd known how much that man would change my life. How much meaning and joy he would bring me. And how much growth he'd inspire in me, both physically and mentally. By then, I’d been in Vietnam for two months. I came during my sabbatical, looking for adventure. Your twenties are supposed to be your adventurous years, after all. A week in, I canceled my plans to continue traveling through Cambodia and Thailand. I’d fallen in love with Vietnam and resolved to explore every nook and cranny I could find. I know it’s a cliché for Germans to choose this trifecta of countries as a holiday destination. But I was only half-German, a fact you could discern from my height and blue eyes. My other half was Turkish, and I had that heritage to thank for my facial hair and golden-brown coiffure. I kept my beard neatly trimmed, while my hair was left just messy enough to look effortless, though I'd hesitate to admit how long I spent getting it that way. Combined with my athletic build and a matching clean outfit, you could say I was a looker. Back home, it was pretty easy to attract attention at the bars and clubs. But at 27, I was starting to wane off the party scene as it slowly got tedious. I was no longer interested in dancing or binging until the wee hours of the morning. I only ever went out when I was hunting. Grindr was also a tool at my disposal of course, but it left me feeling numb. There was no excitement, no rush, no tug and pull. Like all animals, humans have a mating dance—one that I had mastered and found great pleasure in. I would catch the eyes of someone looking my way: interested, but not yet convinced. Then, I'd spend the night testing the waters, letting my hand surreptitiously land on him, whisper in his ear, and invite him for a dance. Hours later I'd have his back arched on my bed, screaming and begging for more. In Vietnam, my routine hadn’t changed much. If anything, my nighttime prowling was even easier. Among tourists and locals, I was an oddity: foreign and different. Heads turned as I walked by, intrigued. I didn’t blame them. I looked good, and they knew it. So when my gaze landed on that handsome Viet man sitting and laughing at that corner seat, I sat up, rolled up my sleeves, and sauntered over. His frame, though small, was well formed. He was slender, with narrow shoulders and delicate wrists that contrasted with the subtle definition of his forearms. His neck was long and graceful, and his posture carried a quiet confidence that felt undeniably masculine. He turned and saw me, letting his eyes linger on my figure and raising an eyebrow. “I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here in the corner,” I said, leaning casually against the bar, my voice warm with charm. “What’s a handsome guy like you doing, hiding away?” The man glanced up at me, his dark eyes cool and unreadable. He tilted his head ever so slightly before answering. “Actually, I’m not hiding. I’m here with my friend,” he said, nodding toward the person seated next to him. “Hi, I’m Minh!” the friend piped up brightly, his high-pitched voice contrasting with Tam’s reserved tone. Minh extended a delicate hand toward me. He was tiny, no taller than 5’3”, with an almost birdlike thinness, but his vibrant outfit—a bold green shirt and patterned scarf—demanded attention. Even his glasses had a rose tint, with the metal frame curving in small spirals at the edges. "Bastian," I said, swallowing his hand in mine as I shook it. Still, I quickly turned my attention back to the man who had first caught my eye. “And you?” I asked, my voice dropping slightly as I addressed the good looking stranger. “Do I get to know your name?” “Tam,” he said simply, his tone polite but distant. “And thank you for the flattery, but we’re perfectly fine as we are.” The blow landed harder than I expected. I blinked, momentarily thrown off. But I wasn’t about to give up so easily. “I think if you gave me a chance, you’d find I’m a pretty interesting guy to talk to,” I said, leaning in slightly. I let my voice dip lower, coaxing him like I was taming a wild fox. Tam’s eye twitched—was it boredom? Annoyance? I couldn’t tell—but he kept his eyes fixed on his drink. “I already find Minh plenty interesting,” he said, his tone firmer now. “Also, you’re asking me to ignore my friend. That’s... not exactly charming.” “Oh, I don’t mind,” Minh interjected quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the issue. I grinned. “See? He doesn’t mind.” Tam’s gaze lifted to mine, sharp and unwavering. “I do.” That stopped me cold. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried enough weight to slam the brakes on my usual routine. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been outright shut down like this, and it wasn’t an experience I relished. My ears burned as the rejection sank in. “Well,” I said, straightening up and forcing a smile, “you two have a good night.” Tam didn’t respond, his attention already back on his drink. Minh, however, gave me a sympathetic smile and a small wave. I retreated to my stool by the wall, my shoulders slumping as the heat of embarrassment spread across me. I'd never felt so disarmed and vulnerable. Not in a long time at least… That old familiar shame clawed its way up, leaving a dull ache in its wake and digging up buried memories. I couldn’t stop fidgeting with the glass in my hand, my thumb circling the rim over and over. Taking a long sip of my drink, I glanced toward the bar. Through the milling crowd, I could see them—Tam and Minh—locked in what looked like an argument. The scene replayed in my head like a bad highlight reel. I imagined myself saying something smoother, more clever, less forward. Maybe if I’d done this, or said that— “Then maybe you go! I’m not interested!” Tam’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and unmistakable. I watched him gather his things. My eyes darted to the mirror on the far wall, catching my reflection. Was there something off? I ran a hand over my jawline, feeling the smoothness of my fresh shave. Nope, all good. My white shirt was crisp and well-fitted, tapering neatly at the waist. My jeans hugged my thighs snugly—one of my stronger assets—and the belt buckle tied the look together. Still, I rolled my shoulders, flexing a bit to test the sleeves of my shirt. I thought I filled out the fabric here a bit more, I wondered to myself, watching the cotton bunch up near the seams. What did I weigh last time I checked? 220? Feel like I got smaller. I turned slightly, checking the back of my outfit in the mirror. Shouldn't have skipped that last workout for that early hike. “Excuse me.” I looked up to see Minh standing there, swaying slightly, a sly grin on his face. “Bastian, right? Is this seat taken?” I gestured an invitation and he took a seat next to me. My eyes flicked back to the bar. Tam was gone. “I’m sorry about my friend,” Minh said, his voice light, but tinged with genuine apology. “He’s a great guy—really, he is—but you’ve got to get through that thick exterior.” “You two seem close,” I said, swirling the last bit of whiskey in my glass. “Oh, we are.” Minh nodded. “The whole point of tonight was to go out whoring, but Tam’s such a damn overthinker. Chickens out like this every time.” He let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “Doesn’t realize what a catch he is, no matter how much I tell him. Leaves me to pick up whatever bait he leaves dangling before he bolts—not that I’m complaining too much,” he added with a wink. “Is that what this is, then?” I asked, smirking despite myself. “Latching on to my bait?” Minh tilted his head, feigning innocence, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, you’ve got me latched onto your pole, alright.” I barked out a laugh. It was cheesy, but his delivery was so confident, so unabashedly playful, I couldn’t help but enjoy it. The earlier sting of rejection hadn’t entirely faded, but Minh’s charm and attention were starting to patch me up. He was bold, disarming, and clearly enjoying himself. Why not lean into it? A little fun wouldn’t hurt. “So, Minh,” I said, turning toward him and letting a slow grin spread across my face. “What’s a guy like me gotta do to keep you around?” --- We arrived at my place around 10 o'clock. This was my last night in the hotel before moving to a shared hostel, and I intended to make the most of the privacy while I still had it. Minh had been eager all evening, sneaking in little touches and squeezes when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. By the time we stepped into the elevator, his restraint was gone, and he leaned up to kiss me. At 6’2”, I towered over him, and I couldn’t help but enjoy the way he rose onto his toes, trying to reach me as we stumbled down the hall, hands roaming over each other’s bodies. He struggled to keep up, so I made it easy for him: I scooped him up over my shoulder and picked up my step. Minh’s laughter was infectious, spilling out in breathless giggles that echoed down the corridor. We were drunk, horny, and too far gone to care who might hear us. By the time we made it to my room, I felt a rush of energy—confidence and desire. Minh’s excitement only fueled my own. I tossed him onto the bed with an effortless swing, grinning at his delighted gasp. As I kicked off my shoes and unbuttoned my shirt, Minh was already pulling his own shirt over his head, his glasses falling askew in the process. He tossed them aside carelessly, flashing me a wide, impish smile. God, he looked cute. For a fleeting second, Tam’s face flashed in my mind, but I pushed the bitter thought away. Minh was here, eager and willing, and I wasn’t about to let myself get distracted. As I undid the last button, Minh let out a wolf whistle, his eyes wide as he took in my sculpted torso. “Damn, you’re an actual stud,” he said, half-incredulous, half-teasing. I smirked, slowing my movements, turning the act into a deliberate strip-tease. His grin widened, and he leaned back on the bed, clearly enjoying the show. I ran a hand down my chest, tracing the ridges of muscle, before hooking my thumbs into my belt. I’d worked hard for this—five years of dedicated workouts and a disciplined diet. My body wasn’t just a testament to my effort; it was a tool, and I knew how to wield it. Minh’s gaze was proof enough. His eyes followed every move, brimming with awe and desire. I loved that. I leaned down to straddle him, grinding my hips against his smaller frame as I shucked off my shirt. His breath hitched, his hands immediately reaching for my torso, exploring the firm ridges of my abs and sides. His touch was bold, his kisses hungrier, more intense than I’d expected from someone so petite. Good. I liked someone who could match my energy. Breaking the kiss, I stood and let my pants fall to the floor, leaving just our briefs between us. A thin string of saliva still connected us as Minh sat up slightly, his lips parted, his cheeks flushed. My eyes flicked downward, catching the bulge in his rose-colored underwear. He was hard. My hand slid beneath the waistband of my briefs, freeing myself at last. Minh’s eyes widened as he took in my full length, his jaw dropping slightly. Eight inches, thick and pulsing, stood proudly in front of him. His gaze flicked between my cock and my face, awe and hunger etched across his features. “YES!” he exclaimed, punching the air with excitement. I couldn’t help it—I laughed, the sound rumbling deep in my chest. His goofy enthusiasm was endearing, cutting through the tension like a balm. Minh was dextrous, rolling back quickly, his nimble hands tugging down his pink bottoms and tossing them aside in one smooth motion. He must have been about five inches, maybe a little more—but on his body, it looked larger. Licking his lips, he let his hand drift down past his hard cock, fingers slipping lower to his smooth, hairless ass. Slowly, tentatively, he began teasing himself, opening up as he kept his eyes locked on mine. The sight was mesmerizing—Minh, sprawled across the bed, ready and eager, his body proclaiming an invitation for mine to take its place. I knelt on the bed, my weight sinking into the mattress as I leaned over him. His breath quickened as I pressed a hand to his thigh, running it upward with deliberate pressure. His body tensed beneath me, shivering under my touch. “Ready for me, Minh?” I murmured, my voice low and gravelly. “More than ready." I knelt down, capturing his lips in another searing kiss, more urgent this time. My right hand cupped his delicate face, my thumb brushing over his cheek. Meanwhile, my other hand slid between his legs, slipping into his tight entrance where his own fingers had left off. My thicker digits made a more sizeable intrusion than his own, and his groans of pleasure thanked me for it. His face looked so boyish, and my hand easily eclipsed the length of it. He looked fragile, almost breakable, but the fire in his eyes told me he could handle whatever I had to give. I let my hand slide down to his slender neck, pausing as I raised an eyebrow in a silent check-in. “I can take it,” he said, his voice soft and unexpectedly high-pitched, likely from the stimulation he was receiving in his ass. “Good boy,” I whispered, wrapping my fingers gently around his neck, just enough to let him feel my control. At the same time, my other hand worked him open with skill, slipping in a second, then a third finger. His body squirmed under my touch, arching and twisting as he tried to cope with the building pleasure. Minh’s hands wandered in a frenzy, moving from my thick arm to my face and hair, then back down over my firm chest. He was moving like he didn't know what to do with his hands anymore. When I finally withdrew my fingers, he exhaled a long breath in reprieve. But I had something much bigger in store for him. After a generous application of lube, I positioned myself at his entrance, taking my time to push in slowly. Minh’s frame tensed at first, but he continued to exhale deeply, controlling his breathing like a pro. It was quickly becoming apparent that this wasn't his first rodeo. His hand rested on mine, a silent signal for when to pause and when to proceed. I eased my entire length into him, the tight heat of his body squeezing me in all the right ways. Once I bottomed out, I grinned and leaned down, brushing back the hair from his forehead. “Ready for the real fucking?” I murmured. Minh nodded wordlessly, his wide eyes glimmering. I adjusted his legs to either side of me, bracing myself before starting a steady rhythm. Each thrust drew a delicious mix of gasps and moans from him. “Oh my god,” he cried out, his fingers gripping the sheets as I picked up my pace. My breath came heavy now, as I watched him unravel beneath me. Each thrust sent shocks of pleasure through him, and his breathless yelps told me exactly when I hit his sweet spot. I kept up the relentless rhythm for what must have been ten minutes, savoring the heat and tightness of his hole. Then, with a quick decision, I shifted him onto his side. He was so easy to manhandle; his light, compact body moved wherever I wanted it. I grabbed both his arms with one hand, pinning them securely behind his back, and pressed his head down into the mattress with the other. His muffled moans vibrated against the duvet as I entered him again, his body pliant and willing beneath me. “You take this dick so well, boy,” I growled, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. Minh’s response was nothing but pure submission. His moans turned to soft, desperate cries, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy as his cheek pressed into the bed. I picked up speed, fully drilling into him, my developed thighs burning with the effort. The slap of skin against skin filled the room, and a few drops of sweat fell from my body onto the writhing figure beneath me. He was barely audible now, his voice lost to pleasure as he instinctively ground his dick against the mattress. My grip on his wrists began to slip as sweat slicked both our bodies, but I held firm. His ass cheeks, glowing red from the pounding, jiggled with every stroke. Despite the roughness, his face was a picture of bliss, his lips parted and his body moving in time with my own. As I felt the pressure building in my core, I slowed my movements to a more deliberate, calculated pace, each thrust deeper and more controlled. Minh’s body tensed in my arms, his legs trembling beneath mine. His eyes closed tightly, and a sharp cry tore from his lips as he reached his climax, spilling himself against the duvet. The sight of him unraveling sent me over the edge. My thrusts grew erratic as I leaned down. One final, deep push, and I spilled my release inside him, my body shuddering with the intensity. We stayed entwined for several minutes, breathing heavily as the haze of post-coital euphoria enveloped us. The room was filled with the scent of sweat and sex, and neither of us moved for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Minh broke the silence, speaking between pants of breath. “So, we’re meeting again, right?”

This is my first story. I intend on expanding it or continuing it. Let me know your thoughts. THE KID FREAK Oliver is just entering 12th grade, when he starts to notice some changes happening to him. Oliver had always been a tall, skinny, geeky kid with dark hair and green eyes. His mother is a Chemistry professor at a local college. She always encouraged her son to study, get good grades and perhaps be a professor one day. When Oliver wanted to play sports, she generally discouraged it. It’s the beginning of 12th grade and there’s a party at Candy Johnson’s house. Candy is a popular girl because she’s not just beautiful, she’s smart as well. Her parties always attracted the jocks and the nerds, a rare mix. Oliver is hanging with a couple of his World of Warcraft buddies, when an arm wrestling match breaks out between a couple of the big jocks at the kitchen table, Big Mike, from Oliver’s high school, and Brock, from a rival high school. They were both shirtless. Big Mike is 6’ tall, 230 lbs, but he’s not lean. He’s got brown hair and a scruffy face. He’s pretty thick. Brock is 6’1” tall and weighs 210 lbs with blonde hair and blue eyes but is pretty lean. The match starts, and Oliver is mesmerized by the test of strength. Both guys have pretty big arms, but Brock’s arms are more defined with a nice peak to his biceps. After about 30 seconds, Brock puts Big Mike down. “It’s getting easier to beat you, Fatty,” says Brock, with a big smile on his face. Big Mike responds, “The only reason you can beat me is because your father is a pro arm wrestler!” “He’s actually the Super Heavyweight World Champion!” says Brock. Brock catches Oliver staring at him. “You wanna arm wrestle, Nerd?” asks Brock. “Umm…no.” Oliver’s friends push him over to the kitchen table. Melvin, a nerdy, skinny kid with thick glasses, says, “C’mon Olly! You’re stronger than you think!” Brock puts his elbow on the table and wiggles his fingers. Oliver looks around at everyone staring and slowly puts his elbow on the table and locks hands with Brock. Big Mike starts them up. “Ready, Go!” Brock and Oliver start slow. Brock is smiling because he knows he has total control. He’s going against a skinny geek. Brock starts to put some real effort into putting Oliver down, but he’s noticing it’s much harder than expected. Big Mike says, “C’mon Brock, stop playin’! Put him down!” Brock pushes harder, but Oliver is not going down easily. Melvin pulls up the sleeve of Oliver’s oversized t-shirt to reveal a small, but ripped and peaked biceps. Big Mike’s eyes show surprise. “Holy shit! I didn’t expect that from Olly,” says Mike. Brock is sweating and now putting maximum effort into beating Oliver. After 45 seconds, he finally puts Oliver down. “Holy shit, Oliver! You’re a lot stronger than I expected. You put up a real fight!” exclaims Big Mike. Brock butts in, “No way, dude. You tired me out. I would destroy him fresh.” Big Mike pulls Oliver aside. “Have you ever lifted weights?” Oliver responds, “No. My mom never let me play any sports. She just wanted me to study.” “Bro, let me train you. You have incredible potential,” says Mike. “You really think so?” “Fuck yeah, I do. Somehow, you’ve built some muscle and strength from doing nothing. Let’s see what you can do if you actually lift weights and challenge yourself.” Oliver agrees to do it. *** Oliver shows up to the football gym with Brock, after all the players have left. “Let’s get some baseline measurements, Olly. Take your shirt off and jump on the scale.” Oliver looks around. “No one is here, buddy,” says Mike. Oliver takes off his shirt. “You’re quite skinny, but you don’t have an ounce of fat.” Oliver has a lot of veins showing as well. Oliver steps on the scale. “Okay, your height is 6 feet tall, and you weigh 155 pounds. Let’s measure your arm.” Oliver flexes his arm and a small, but ripped and peaked biceps appears. Mike measures it. “Wow, Olly, you’re not big, but your bicep is peaked and has great shape. It’s almost 15 inches.” “Really?” asks Oliver. “I swear. When you start to add size, I wouldn’t be surprised if you could be a serious bodybuilder.” “But I want to be strong, so people like Brock can’t pick on me or make fun of me anymore.” “Olly, there is something about you. I think you could be, not just a bodybuilder, but maybe one of the strongest bodybuilders.” “I’m just a nerd,” says Oliver. “I know it appears that way, but something in my gut is telling me different,” responds Mike. Mike takes a couple more measurements. Waist, 27 inches. Quads, 23 inches. Mike takes Oliver over to the bench press. “I’m going to test your strength in different exercises to get your baseline max in each exercise. Then we can measure again every few months.” Oliver agrees. After several warmup sets, Mike puts 155 lbs on the bar. “Anyone that can bench press their bodyweight for 10 reps is considered to be in good shape.” Oliver takes the bar and starts to bench press. He presses it 10 times very easily. “Yes! Too easy!” says Mike. Mike loads 225 lbs. Oliver bench presses it for 5 reps. Mike loads 275 lbs. Oliver bench presses it for 1 rep. “Holy shit, Olly! I knew it! I knew there was something about you.” Oliver is surprised. “Is this considered good?” “Bro, you’re skinny as fuck weighing 155 lbs, and you just bench pressed 275 lbs! And look at yourself in the mirror!” Oliver goes to the mirror. He’s never seen his muscles pumped. He’s sweaty and shiny. His chest is showing a little thickness and rips like he’s never seen before. Abs are shredded. He flexes his arms, and they appear bigger and more ripped. Oliver finishes the rest of the tests. He ended up squatting and deadlifting 305 lbs. He curled 120 lbs on a straight bar. Oliver and Mike agree to keep training together and to keep everything under wraps. No showing off, and Oliver will continue wearing baggy clothes to hide his gains until they decide to reveal them. *** Over the entire 12th grade and into the summer, Mike trained Oliver in secret, nearly every day. Mike and Oliver were shocked at Oliver’s gains. The main state college branch is in their hometown, and freshman year has started, so Mike takes down Oliver’s stats and tests his strength. Height, 6’. Weight, 180 lbs. Biceps, 18.5”. Waist, 28.5”. Quads, 25”. One rep maxes…Bench press, 495 lbs. Straight bar curls, 225 lbs. Squat, 725 lbs. Deadlift, 755 lbs. Oliver asks, “So, honestly, Mike, how do you think I’m doing?” Mike shakes his head in astonishment. “Bro, you’ve far exceeded my expectations. In one year, you look like a real competitive bodybuilder, but what’s blowing my mind, is your strength to weight ratio.” “What about it,” asks Oliver. “You totally don’t get it, do you,” asks Mike. Oliver has a blank stare. “Bro, at this rate, you’re going to be benching over 600 lbs in a few months and maybe you’ll be the lightest person to ever do that,” Mike exclaims. “Whoa…” Oliver is blown away. “I had no idea.” Mike nods his head. “Maybe it’s time for you to test your strength against others.” Oliver smiles. *** A couple months later, it’s time for Candy’s yearly party. Big Mike takes Oliver with him. It’s chilly outside, so Oliver wears a jacket. Oliver and Mike go into the house. It’s quite warm with all the kids partying. They go into the kitchen, where there are about 15 guys and girls. Mike grabs a beer for Oliver. Oliver takes a sip and looks at Mike. He processes the taste. He looks at Mike and smiles. “I never thought I would like beer, but it’s actually pretty good,” says Oliver. An hour goes by, and Mike and Oliver drink about 6 or 7 beers, when Oliver’s nerdy friends show up. “Oliver!” screams Melvin. A big smile comes across Oliver’s face. Melvin shakes Mike’s hand and then Oliver’s. “It’s been a year, since I’ve seen you, Olly,” says Melvin. “I know. Big Mike here has been training me, so I haven’t had a lot of time. I miss you guys.” “Yeah, I knew something was up, and when I just shook your hand, it’s so much bigger,” says Melvin. “Come here. I want you to feel something,” says Oliver. Mike smirks. Melvin comes in close. Oliver flexes his biceps by his side. His jacket arm fills out. Melvin’s eyes get big. He puts both hands around Oliver’s biceps. “Oh my God, Oliver!” Oliver’s heart rate increases with the exhilaration of his friend. “Your arms are massive and hard as a rock!” Oliver smiles and looks at Mike, who nods back at him. “I can’t wait to show you what I can do with this muscle,” says Oliver. Mike says, “It won’t be long. Look who showed up.” Brock walks into the kitchen with a couple friends, Jeff and Scott, both pretty big guys. He’s wearing a tank top and looking bigger and leaner than last year. Brock sees Big Mike. “Yo, Mike! You’re looking bigger than last year,” says Brock. “I am bigger,” replies Mike. “Not as big as this,” says Brock. Brock hits a double biceps shot showing off his 18-inch biceps. “That’s true, but your arms aren’t as big as Olly’s,” says Mike. “What? The nerd I beat last year?” asks Brock. “I wouldn’t call him that anymore, Brock. Show him, Olly.” Oliver steps forward and looks at Mike. Mike nods his head. Oliver is sweating profusely from wearing the jacket in the hot house. Oliver slowly unzippers his jacket. First a glimpse of his chest and then his abs. He removes his jacket and a few audible gasps come from some of the kids in the kitchen. “Oh my God,” says Melvin. Oliver is standing there, dripping sweat, pumped and totally ripped with thick slabs of muscle and not an ounce of fat. Even Mike is shocked. “Show the arm wrestler some real arms, Olly,” says Mike. Oliver hits a front double biceps shot. His arms are ripped with huge peaks, hitting 19.5” with a thick biceps vein. “You may be big, but I’ll destroy you in arm wrestling. I just won the state championship,” exclaims Brock. Mike says, “Let’s do this!” Brock takes a seat at the end of the long kitchen table as does Oliver. They put their elbows on the table and clasp hands. Some of the kids start recording video with their phones. Jeff starts them off. “Ready, Go!” Brock screams and hits first bringing Oliver’s arm down about halfway. Brock laughs. Brock leans in with his shoulder putting all his weight into it to put down Oliver. Mike screams, “C’mon Olly! Don’t let him intimidate you! You’re stronger than he is! Get angry!” Oliver screams and starts pulling hard. His biceps vein starts to pop thicker, and the cords of muscle of his biceps start to increase in prominence. Oliver bends his wrist activating his huge forearms, pumping bigger. Oliver’s biceps start to peak larger as he starts to move Brock’s arm up. “Jesus, look at the kid’s arm,” says one of the guys watching. Oliver pulls his arm almost back to the center position, when Brock grabs the side of the table with his free arm. He screams and using all his strength pulls Oliver back down to the halfway point again. Mike screams, “Brock is cheating grabbing onto the side of the table!” Jeff responds, “No way, bro. Arm wrestling tables have pegs on the side to grab, so it’s fair.” “Okay, but the table is too long for Olly to grab the side with his hand,” retorts Mike. Jeff just shrugs his shoulders. Melvin screams, “C’mon Olly. Show me that muscle, that strength!” Oliver grunts loud and pulls hard, but he can’t move Brock. “No way you can pull through this!” Brock laughs. Oliver screams and pulls with everything he has. At first, he doesn’t move, but after a few seconds, Oliver starts to move Brock’s arm back. Jeff screams, “No way! He’s doin’ it!” Scott adds, “Yeah, and he’s doing it with just one arm!” Oliver’s skin is paper-thin showing all the muscle fibers in his cannonball shoulder and his biceps and triceps, rippling. His biceps is peaking extremely high as he gets back to the center. Melvin says, “Jesus, his arm is more massive than Brock’s!” Brock gets angry and screams trying to pull Oliver back down, but Oliver is ready for it and holds him there. Brock tries several times but can’t break through. Oliver screams and starts to pull Brock down. Oliver’s abs and chest are completely shredded as those muscle groups help with the effort. Oliver’s biceps vein is pumping huge amounts of blood to the muscle as it continues overpowering Brock’s efforts. Brock screams and tries will all his strength to stop Oliver, but Oliver’s ripped muscle is just too strong. “Yeah,” screams Oliver as he continues pushing Brock’s arm down. Oliver stops his assault with Brock’s wrist three inches above the table. He looks at Brock. Oliver shifts his weight and arm position so that he’s just using his triceps. “Give me everything you have,” says Oliver. Brock screams, trying to pull with everything he has. Oliver’s triceps explodes as he takes everything Brock has and overpowers him, slowly pushing Brock’s arm down. Scott says, “Holy shit! The kid’s just using his triceps to overpower Brock! That’s just raw strength!” A few seconds later, Oliver pushes Brock’s arm to the table. Mike screams, “Yeah! You did it, Olly!” “You cheated! You had to have cheated,” said Brock. “Bullshit! I even let you use both hands,” screams Oliver. Brock looks around the room. “You all better delete those videos before I beat your asses.” One of the kids says, “Sorry man. I think that kid Joey was live on Instagram.” “I’m gonna kill him,” Brock screams. Brock runs out looking for Joey. Oliver turns to Mike, “I was acting.” “What,” asks Mike. Oliver responds, “Yeah, he was very easy to arm wrestle. I just screamed for effect.” Mike smiles. “Son of a bitch! You’re getting too strong!” Mike and Oliver grab another beer. All of a sudden, there is a commotion out back by the pool. Mike and Oliver walk out to see what’s going on. Everyone is surrounding some big man, trying to get autographs. “Holy shit! It’s Grip Master,” screams Mike. “Who’s that,” asks Oliver. “He’s a huge professional wrestler that beats his opponents in unbreakable wrestling holds,” Mike responds. “Candy’s older brother is friends with him,” he adds. As Mike and Oliver approach, some of the kids gasp as they see Oliver, pumped and sweaty from his arm wrestling match. Grip Master, who has a shaved head and is 6’5” tall and weighs 310 lbs, looks over to see what’s going on. Mike says, “Hey Grip Master! Huge fan! Could we get a pic with you?” Grip Master responds, “Well, shit, this guy is going to out angle me.” Mike says, “Naa, he’s a kid. He doesn’t even watch pro wrestling.” Grip Master asks, “Wait, he’s a kid?” “Yeah, he’s just 19 years old, but he’s a KID FREAK.” “How big are you,” asks Grip Master. “I’m 6 feet tall and weigh 205 lbs,” says Oliver. “You look much bigger than that,” says Grip Master. Mike adds, “What’s freaky is his strength. The kid bench pressed 585 lbs yesterday in his workout, and he did it easily.” Grip Master gives a skeptical look and says, “I seriously doubt that. I can bench press 680 lbs, and I’m much bigger than him. No one can bench press 585 lbs at his bodyweight.” Mike responds, “It’s true! If we had a bench press here, Olly could show you.” Mike thinks for a second. “What if he could break one of your unbreakable wrestling holds? Would you believe him if he could do that?” Mike asks. “Yeah, but we all know that’s impossible,” Grip Master responds. Oliver adds, “Please, let’s try it. I want to test my strength against you.” Grip Master starts to walk around Oliver, slowly, eyeing him up and down. Mike starts recording video on his phone. Grip Master slips behind Oliver and wraps his arms around Oliver’s torso from the back, putting him into a reverse bearhug, pinning his arms by his side. Oliver winces in pain. All the kids gather around to watch this test of strength. Some are recording it with their phones. Grip Master lifts Oliver off the ground, shaking him and crushing him. Oliver tries to pull his right arm up. His shoulder is ripped and pumped as he puts forth the effort. His arm starts to slowly slide up, especially will all the slippery sweat. He frees his right arm and starts on his left arm, pulling up. Grip Master is tightening his hold, but Oliver is strong enough with the slickness of his body to pull out his left arm. Now Grip Master tightens his hold enough to push the air out of Oliver’s lungs. He starts coughing. “C’mon Oliver! You have to break his grip,” screams Mike. “No way he can do that,” screams one of the kids. Oliver breaths in deep and screams, hitting a massive front double biceps shot. Gasps from the crowd as they are in awe of his massive and shredded physique. Grip Master’s hold is that he’s grabbing his right wrist with his left hand. Oliver crisscrosses his hands, grabbing Grip Master’s right fist with his right hand and grabbing Grip Master’s left hand with his left hand. Oliver screams and starts pulling apart as if he’s trying to bend the bars of a steel cage. His biceps explode in size with thick biceps veins pumping massive amounts of blood to his incredible ripped muscle. Every muscle fiber can be seen. His lats expand with the massive effort being put forth. Grip Master is holding the grip in place. “Nice try kid, but you’re going to have to try harder than that,” says Grip Master. Oliver screams and pulls harder. His biceps seem to be getting larger with the effort as well as his forearms. Sweat is dripping down his heaving chest and his chiseled abs. Grip Master seems to be starting to labor a bit. One of the kids says, “This kid is ripped as fuck, and he’s making Grip Master work!” Hearing that excites Oliver. Oliver screams again increasing the pressure. Grip Master starts to breath heavy. Another kid says, “This kid’s arms are huge.” “Yeah, and his strength is insane,” responds another. Oliver goes nuts after hearing that, screams and pulls with everything he has. His ripped biceps are nearly exploding with every muscle fiber showing through his paper-thin skin. His shoulders are huge, round and ripped. Abs are shredded. Oliver looks down at his own body, in awe of his incredible strength. He slowly starts to pull apart Grip Master’s unbreakable reverse bearhug. “Yeah,” Oliver screams as he feels himself overpower the strongest grip in professional wrestling. Oliver can hear the kids… “Impossible,” “No way,” “He’s breaking free!” Oliver slowly pulls his hands apart. Grip Master screams and, using his incredible chest strength, stops Oliver. Grip Master tries to close it back up, but somehow Oliver’s arms and shoulders begin to overpower Grip Master’s incredible chest strength, continuing to pull apart his arms. Grip Master falls backwards, staring at his hands in shock. He then looks back at Oliver as Oliver turns back around. Oliver screams and hits a front double biceps, with biceps that must be over 20 inches, pumped. Mike walks over to Oliver. “Believe it now, Grip Master,” asks Mike. “Hell yeah. I’ve never felt that much power before from anyone!” Oliver smiles. *** Another year goes by. Mike continues training Oliver in secret. Somehow Oliver continues making incredible gains in size and strength. Oliver’s latest stats are: Height, 6’. Bodyweight, 230 lbs. Biceps, 22 inches. Waist, 30 inches. Quads, 28 inches. Oliver’s strength level is incredible with a 685 lb bench press, 275 lb strict straight bar curl, 960 lb squat and a 980 lb deadlift. His bodyfat is as low as it has ever been. “How would you like to test your physique against bodybuilders and your strength against arm wrestlers, powerlifters and strongmen, all in the same day,” asks Mike. “Hell, yeah, but where can we do this?” “At the Arnold Classic this weekend. It’s two months away. Let’s see what kind of gains you can make until then.” responds Mike. Oliver says, “Let’s do it!” *** Mike and Oliver are in their hotel room at the Arnold Classic. They are lying in their beds resting. “You awake,” asks Oliver. “Yeah, what’s up?” “My mom hasn’t really spoken with me much about my gains. I thought it was weird because she never encouraged me to do any athletic or physical activity. It was always about studying. So, I asked her if she was shocked by my transformation,” says Oliver. “Okay,” responds Mike Oliver continues, “She says she wasn’t. She met my father in a one night stand. She never even got a picture with him, but he was an incredibly built man with muscles everywhere and no bodyfat. What made her lust for him was an incredible feat of strength he performed.” “What did he do?” “A car accident happened in front of a gym. He was training after hours. My mom was waiting for a taxi, when a car went out of control up onto the sidewalk and hit and ran over an old man. His leg was pinned under the tire. Without thinking, my father put his hands under the passenger side of the car, screamed and lifted the side of the car up. She pulled the old man out from under the car.” “Holy shit,” exclaims Mike. “Yeah, that night they went to dinner together and had sex. He left the country never to be seen or heard from again. She suspects that he was likely married and ashamed. She never told me all this because she didn’t want me to go down that path.” “Oh man. I’m really sorry to hear that.” “Here’s the interesting part. My mom asked how he got so strong. He told her the usual stuff about lifting heavy weights, but he also told her he had a rare genetic mutation that not only allowed for good muscle growth but allowed for the muscle to contract extremely hard. His nervous system was also somehow enhanced. A year after I was born, she got me tested, and I have the same condition as my father.” “Wow! This is incredible. I wonder what your limits are,” said Mike. “I don’t know, but I’m going to push myself to get stronger than any human alive,” exclaims Oliver. “Hell yeah!” Mike jumps out of bed. “Since we’re going to hit bodybuilding first, let’s put on your last coat of tan,” says Mike. Over the next hour, Mike paints Oliver’s skin with the bodybuilding posing tan making his skin dark, which shows the cuts and rips in Oliver’s muscle much better, especially under bright lights. Mike gives him a pair of posing trunks to wear under his clothes. Mike and Oliver enter the ballroom where they have bodybuilding. The press conference just ended, and they’re getting some photos and videos of Rob Coulson, last year’s Arnold Amateur champion, who is competing at the pro bodybuilding competition. He’s considered to have some of the best arms in bodybuilding. He’s a top contender to win. Off to the side of the stage, Mike has Oliver strip off his clothes. Mike quickly puts a light coating of oil on Oliver’s body. While Rob is hitting some poses, Oliver jumps up onto the stage from the ground, which grabs everyone’s attention, since the stage is very high. A couple whistles from the small crowd still there with photographers. Rob laughs at Oliver jumping up on stage. He hits a front double biceps shot. Oliver stands next to him and hits a front double biceps shot. A few audible gasps from the crowd. Oliver’s arms appear to be bigger than Rob’s arms. Not only that, he’s so ripped that you can see every muscle fiber in his arms, chest and completely shredded quads. Rob’s girlfriend screams for him to do his money shot, his back double biceps. So, Rob and Oliver turn around. They both hit their back double biceps shot. “Oh my God,” says Rob’s girlfriend. Oliver has him beat on his best shot, with bigger, more peaked arms, larger and more ripped shoulders and a much wider back. Oliver’s hamstrings are also bigger. One of the photographers says, “Who’s this kid? He’s destroying Rob.” Mike steps up and says, “His name is Oliver. He’s 20 years old and just getting into bodybuilding.” The photographer screams, “20? Are you fucking kidding me?” Someone screams, “Hit a most muscular shot!” Rob and Oliver turn around and both hit a most muscular crab shot. Oliver is matching Rob’s size from a muscular standpoint, but he’s much more shredded. Oliver’s chest is completely ripped with monster shoulders and traps. The biceps veins are nearly exploding they’re so thick. Abs are like steel armor. Oliver’s quad sweep is also wider and denser than Rob’s. “This kid could have won the show,” exclaims one photographer. Rob gets angry and walks off the stage. Mike gives the photographers contact info for Oliver. Oliver jumps off the stage and puts on a pair of shorts over his posing trunks. They exit the ballroom and go to the main wing of the expo where they have all the other events and activities. About as soon as they enter the expo hall, a bunch of people come over wanting pictures with Oliver. He’s shirtless and wearing shorts that show off his massive quads and calves. They make their way to the Animal Cage where they are starting a bench press competition. Mike registered Oliver for the contest. There are 10 competitors, most are big and fat, but powerful men. Oliver weighs in at 245 lbs and is easily the leanest competitor. The biggest and strongest competitor, nicknamed Grizzly, is 6’5” tall and weighs in at 330 lbs. Grizzly says, “Boy. You a bodybuilder? Cause you gonna git hurt here. This ain’t no play time in the gym. This is big boy weight.” He laughs. Everyone submits on written cards what their first lift will be. The announcer gets on the microphone. The announcer says, “Okay folks. We’re getting started with 405 pounds on the bar, and we’ll finish with Grizzly with 675 pounds…wait…there must be a mistake here. Who is Oliver? Oliver raises his hand and says, “Me sir!” Someone in the crowd says, “Holy shit! He’s jacked as fuck!” Announcer asks, “You’re opening with 685 pounds? Is that a mistake? Because no one has ever opened with that much weight, and honestly son, you don’t look like you could do something like that.” Oliver responds, “Yes sir. 685 pounds is my opener. I want to make sure I get the lift, so I can go heavier.” Announcer asks, “So this is easy for you?” Oliver says, “Yes sir.” Grizzly yells, “I smell bullshit! No one can beat me in bench press, especially not some bodybuilder!” The competition starts, and Oliver warms up. They get to Grizzly, and he presses 675 lbs, with a huge effort. The staff loads 685 lbs onto the bar. Oliver lays down on the bench. The crowd quiets down to watch. Oliver grabs the bar. Announcer asks, “You want a liftoff young man?” Oliver says, “No sir. I got this.” Oliver lifts the bar off the rack. He slowly lowers the weight and touches his chest, holding the bar there.” Judge says, “Press!” Oliver pushes the bar back with incredible power. It flies up. Judge says, “Rack it!” Oliver puts the bar back. He gets a good lift signal. He jumps up and hits a most muscular shot. He’s sweating profusely. The crowd goes wild. Grizzly throws down his belt. Everyone submits their lifts. Oliver is doing 720 lbs. Grizzly finds out and puts 725 lbs for himself. Fifteen minutes later, 720 lbs is loaded onto the bar. Oliver sits on the end of the bench and flexes his pecs several times. His chest is shredded and sweaty. Mike comes over to give him a liftoff. Mike says, “You got this Olly. Let’s put this guy out of his misery.” Oliver screams, “Hell yeah!” He lays on the bench. He nods his head for Mike to give the liftoff. He lowers the bar and holds it on his chest. Judge says, “Press!” Oliver screams and presses the bar extremely hard. The bar goes up steadily and fairly quickly. Judge says, “Rack!” Oliver racks it and get a good lift signal. He jumps up and hits a double biceps shot. Someone from the crowd, “Jesus, this kid is an animal.” Grizzly is up. 725 lbs is loaded onto the bar. He sits down. He sniffs a bottle of smelling salts, throws it aside and screams. He lays down. His spotter gives him a liftoff. He lowers the bar and stops on his chest. Judge says, “Press!” Grizzy screams and pushes. The bar goes up very slowly. It gets stuck halfway up, but after a couple seconds, he screams and is able to slowly push through to a lockout. Judge says, “Rack!” Grizzy racks it. He sits up, and his nose is bleeding. He stands up and then stumbles. A couple staff help him to his chair. Everyone is submitting final lifts, except for Grizzy. He’s going to stick with his last lift of 725 lbs. Mike says, “That last lift went up really fast. I don’t know…you think you could do 750, or is that just too much?” Oliver thinks for a couple seconds and says, “Fuck it! Let’s do it!” After 15 minutes, it’s Oliver’s turn. 750 lbs is loaded onto the bar. Announcer says, “This kid has already broken records today. Now he’s going for 750 lbs, more than three times his bodyweight. He’s completely ripped up, and he’s only 20 years old!” The crowd cheers. Oliver sits on the bench, flexing his chest and arms. He lays back and screams. Mike comes over and grabs the bar. Oliver nods his head for the liftoff. Mike does it and steps back. Oliver takes a deep breath and lowers the bar. He touches and holds the bar on his chest. The judge waits an extra seconds before giving the signal. Judge says, “Press!” Oliver screams and starts pressing. His chest is pumped and shredded. His triceps are popping out and ripped. The bar slowly goes up. It slows down near the halfway mark. Oliver screams again using his chest power to press the bar high and higher, until he finally locks out. Judge says, “Rack!” Oliver racks the bar. The good lift signal is given. The crowd erupts in cheers. Grizzly walks out. Oliver hits a huge most muscular shot. Mike comes over and gives Oliver a hug. Mike says, “Bro! I’m blown away!” “Me too man! I can’t believe it! It’s like nothing can stop me!” Mike says, “Maybe nothing or no one can!” They exit the cage and go onto the next event. Mike says, “I think you’re going to like this next event. It will really test your strength like nothing has before.” Mike and Oliver enter the Bending Arena. Oliver’s eyes light up. There are all kinds of things to bend here, including nails, thick bolts, tools, including wrenches. They have steel bars to bend like on World’s Strongest Man from the 1980s and 1990s. A big sign says… “WHOEVER BENDS THE THICKEST BAR TODAY, WINS A FREE SET OF CAPTAINS OF CRUSH GRIPPERS!” Mike and Oliver go over to the steel bars. Jake is managing the challenge. “Wow, you must be a bodybuilder,” says Jake. Oliver says, “Well, I…” “He’s really a power bodybuilder,” says Mike. Oliver smiles. Jake says, “Well, you’re in the right spot if you want to test you strength.” Oliver asks, “What are the Captains of Crush Grippers?” Jake breaks out all the grippers ranging from Captains of Crush (CoC) 1 all the way to a 4. Jake says, “They range in strength from level 1 to level 4. Only 5 people in the world have ever closed a number 4.” Oliver says, “I have to try that!” Jake says, “Okay big boy, let’s start you off with a number 2. Most bodybuilders can barely do that.” Oliver takes the number 2 and puts it in his hand. He closes it, and his forearms pump up. He closes it for reps. After he hits 20 reps, Jake stops him. Oliver says, “I’ll take the number 4 now.” “I don’t think you should jump up to it right away, but here you go.” A crowd starts to form to watch Oliver. Jake records video using his phone. Oliver places the number 4 gripper in his hand. He takes a couple deep breaths, screams and squeezes as hard as he can. He closes it. Jake screams, “Holy shit!” Oliver lets it open and closes it again. And again. Veins are snaking in his forearm pumping it close to 19 inches thick. And then he holds the gripper closed for 20 seconds. Jake screams, “Yeah! What a pump!” Mike says, “Bro, your forearm is massive!” Oliver flexes his forearm for the camera. Oliver says, “Let me bend some bars.” Jake says, “Normally I’d start someone with a 1/2” thick steel bar to try, but you’re much stronger than the guys that usually come over here. Here’s a 5/8” thick steel bar that’s 4 feet long.” Oliver grabs the bar and holds it at either end. Jake continues, “So before you try anything, let me tell you how to properly bend…Wait!” Oliver starts pushing on the bar, trying to bend it. Jake says, “Hold on man! You can’t bend it in front of your body like that. It’s impossible!” A guy from the crowd says, “Have you ever seen anyone so ripped?” Oliver screams. His chest and abdominals are shredded. His biceps are popping. Another scream and slowly the bar starts to bend. Jake says, “No way!” Oliver continues pouring his strength into bending the bar in front of his body. After a few seconds, the ends of the bar touch. Oliver drops the bar and hits a double biceps shot, screaming, “Yeah!” Jake says, “Holy shit! I did not expect that.” Mike asks, “What’s your thickest bar?” Jake responds, “Well, it’s called the Ultimate, and it’s not really meant to be bent.” Mike asks, “What do you mean?” Jake says, “Well, it’s 1 and 1/4 inch thick cold-rolled steel at 5 feet in long. It’s believed that no one can really bend it. That’s why there is a cash prize for anyone that can bend it just with their upper body and make the ends touch, wins $100,000. That’s just impossible.” Oliver’s eyes get big and says, “I gotta fuckin’ try it!” Jake says, “You can try it, but no one has even come close to making the tiniest of bends in the bar. It’s still perfectly straight.” Mike asks, “How quickly would Oliver get the money if he does it?” “It’s an instant bank transfer,” says Jake. Jake gives Oliver the bar and a thick bath towel. Jake says, “This time you won’t be able to bend it in front of your body.” “So, what do I do?” Jake responds, “Fold the towel and put it on your head for protection. Put the bar on top, using your head as a leverage point. Bend the bar down as far as you can, then put it behind your neck and bend it until the ends touch.” Oliver folds the towel and puts it on his head. The crowd is getting really big now. Oliver places the bar on top and grabs the ends of the bar with his hands. Mike screams, “You can do this Olly! No one has ever bent a bar this thick! You’re gonna do it in front of all these people, not as some fat strongman, but as a ripped-up power bodybuilder. No one has ever seen anything like this before! You can do it!” Oliver takes a couple deep breaths and screams. He pulls down hard, but the bar doesn’t budge. He takes a break. Jake says, “I told you bro. You can’t do it. No one can.” Oliver goes nuts and screams and pulls with everything he has. His biceps explode into huge ripped peaks. His lats flare out wider than ever. His abdominals contract as hard as they ever have before. At first, nothing happens, but after a few seconds, a squeal comes from the bar. The bar starts to slowly bend under Oliver’s strength. His lats are contracting so hard, you can see every muscle fiber. Oliver screams again pouring all of his strength into the task of bending the thickest steel ever bent by a human. The crowd starts talking… “Oh my God!” “He’s doing it!” “He’s fuckin’ ripped up!” “That’s just raw strength!” Jake is in complete awe of Oliver’s ripped strength. Jake says, “He’s bending the unbendable!” Oliver bends the bar halfway and stops for a second. He screams again and continues bending the bar until it’s about a 90-degree angle and can’t bend further on his head. He’s sweating profusely. He drops the bar behind his neck. Using his chest, he tries to crush the bar in, but it’s still a bit too wide for that. Oliver tilts the bar behind his neck, so that the end in his left hand is now down by his hip. The end of the bar in his right hand is above his head. Bracing the left end against his body, Oliver screams and pulls down on the bar with his right hand. Someone from the crowd says, “Jesus Christ! Look at the kid’s arm!” Oliver’s 22-inch right biceps explodes into ripped glory pulling the bar down, dripping sweat. His abs contracting hard to stabilize his core. Oliver screams again! The impossible to bend cold-rolled steel tries to resist, but Oliver’s biceps is just too strong, bending it more and more. “Yeah,” screams Oliver as he dominates the bar. Now the bar is at a 45-degree angle. Oliver centers the bar behind his neck, with his arms on both ends of the bar. Oliver screams and pushes the ends of the bar towards each other. His chest and abs are ripped to the bone. His chest is heaving and pumping blood as massive amounts of strength pass through to his hands. Oliver screaming and pushing slowly presses the ends of the bar towards each other. After several seconds, the ends touch. Jake, in utter disbelief, faints for a moment. Oliver lifts the bar from his neck and throws it to the ground. He hits a huge most muscular shot as the crowd cheers and then a huge front double biceps shot. Mike then hugs him, and Oliver hugs him back. People in the crowd come up to congratulate him and get pictures. Finally, Oliver gets a bank transfer from Jake’s company. Mike says, “It looks like we just have one more stop.” Oliver responds, “Arm wrestling!” Mike nods his head. Oliver adds, “You think Brock’s Dad, Titus, will accept my challenge?” “Well, he is the Super Heavyweight World Champion, so he may not take you too seriously. You’re only 20 years old, and arm wrestlers always think they can destroy bodybuilders. But, you do have some money that you can put up to sweeten the pot.” Oliver says, “Yes!” On the way to the arm wrestling competition, they stop to get some burgers and refuel. Oliver eats six double cheeseburgers and six orders of fries. They finally arrive at the arm wrestling contest. It doesn’t start for another 15 minutes. Mike speaks with the promoters to try to get Titus to take on Oliver. At first the promoters said no because Oliver hasn’t competed and earned a spot to challenge Titus. When Mike offered Titus $20,000 to take the match, he accepted. Announcer says, “It’s time to get started! Up first is a best of three supermatch between your current super heavyweight world champion, 6’3” tall, 350 pounds of solid mass, with 23-inch arms and 20-inch forearms…Titus!” Cheers from the crowd as Titus walks out. The announcer continues, “His challenger is a complete unknown but considers himself a power bodybuilder, 6’ tall weighing 245 pounds of completely ripped muscle, 22-inch arms and only 20 years old…Oliver! The usual audible gasps form the audience. Brock looks up in shock. Brock says, “No way! Oliver is challenging my Dad? Jesus, he really packed on some size.” Titus and Oliver both come to the table. Oliver asks for his arms to be measured since it’s been a couple months, and he still has a pump from the bar bending. The referee measures Oliver’s arm. The referee says, “It looks to be…22 and 3/4…wait…23 inches…matching Titus!” “Looks so much bigger than Titus,” says one guy from the crowd. His friend responds, “Yeah, cause he’s got a huge peak and the muscle is completely ripped up.” Oliver smiles. The referee measures his forearm. “The bodybuilder’s forearm is 19.5”, just under Titus!” Oliver smiles and nods his head. Titus says, “You think cause you have a little muscle you can challenge me? Kid, I have over 20 years of experience in arm wrestling. I know every technique and trick in the book, and I haven’t lost a match in over three years! No way you can beat this arm!” With that, Titus flexes his right arm to cheers in the crowd. Oliver responds, “I’m tired of your son bullying kids, so I’m going to teach you a lesson. I don’t need any arm wrestling techniques or tricks. I’m gonna beat you with raw strength!” Oliver hits a double biceps shot, totally ripped with a light coat of sweat for shine. The crowd starts talking… “That kid’s arms are bigger than Titus’!” “Have you ever seen someone so shredded?” Titus gets mad and slams his elbow on the pad. Oliver grips up and squeezes Titus’ hand. Titus tries to pull out, but Oliver’s grip is too strong. Finally, Oliver lets Titus slip out and re-grip. The referee starts the match. “Ready, Go!” Titus hits hard, but Oliver holds him. Titus hits harder and pulls Oliver’s arm down just a bit off center. The crowd doesn’t know how to react. “That kid is holding back Titus!” Titus screams and goes all out trying to pull down Oliver. Oliver does go down a little until Oliver screams and starts pulling with everything he has. He stops Titus and starts to pull Titus back up. Oliver’s arm is incredibly shredded showing every muscle fiber working. His chest is ripped and sweat is pouring off his body. “Yeah,” Oliver screams. Oliver gets their arms back to the center starting position. Brock screams, “Arm Lock! Dad, use your Arm Lock!” Titus shifts his weight and his arm position, essentially locking his arm into place, making it very difficult, if not impossible to move. Oliver is confused. He’s not sure how Titus is blocking him from pulling his arm down. “Yes, just hold him there, Dad! He’ll burn out soon,” screams Brock. Another grunt from Oliver, but he can’t move Titus. Titus smiles. “No one has ever broken through my Arm Lock, kid. Not even the strongest arm wrestlers,” says Titus. “I’m a power bodybuilder, and this ripped muscle is gonna bust through your Arm Lock.” Titus laughs. Oliver screams and pulls harder. His biceps seeming to pump larger, and his forearms expand with corded muscle trying to push through his paper-thin skin. Titus’ smile goes away. “This kid has some serious muscle,” says someone from the crowd. “Yeah, his biceps are really peaked, but I don’t know if he has the strength to pull through Titus’ Arm Lock. It’s impossible,” says his friend. Oliver hears this talk from the crowd. It gets him very excited. Oliver screams again and pulls with everything he has. His chest is shredded and pouring on the strength that can bench press well over 700 lbs. His biceps and forearms that curl nearly 300 lbs are increasing the pressure that no one else can create. “You can do it,” screams Mike. “This kid…I’ve never seen so much ripped muscle,” exclaims someone from the crowd. Oliver very slightly moves Titus’ arm. Titus’ eyes are wide, and his head is shaking with the effort to contain Oliver. “Fuck yeah,” screams Oliver. “Impossible,” says Brock. Oliver looks over at Brock. Brock is in shock. The crowd starts talking… “The kid bodybuilder…he’s doin’ it!” “That’s pure, raw strength!” Titus screams, trying to stop Oliver, and he does for a second, but the kid bodybuilder’s strength is building. His ripped muscle contracting harder. Oliver starts pushing through the Arm Lock with every muscle group engaged including his back with crazy striations, his biceps with impossible peaks and his chest just ripped to the bone with massive forearms at the lead. As Oliver is pulling Titus’ arm down, closer and closer to the pin pad, Titus does a King’s Move, dropping his body below the table and stretching out the arm to make it impossible to pin due to the angle of the arm. Brock screams, “Good move, Dad! Hold him there and burn him out!” Oliver continues pulling Titus’ arm, but it’s completely stuck. It’s even harder than his Arm Lock. After 10 seconds of pulling, Oliver isn’t making progress. Mike screams, “Olly, do a shoulder press! Stand up tall and use your shoulder and bodyweight to press his arm down!” Oliver stands up tall and starts pushing with just his triceps. He doesn’t lean over and use his shoulder and bodyweight. Titus is smiling. He’s in a good position. The King’s Move doesn’t use much energy. It’s all about leverage, angles and the arm’s natural straight arm end range. “No one can push through my King’s Move, kid! It’s ten times harder than my Arm Lock!” Oliver grunts loud and pushes hard. Titus’ arm is like hardened steel. It’s just not moving. “You can’t do it, Olly!,” screams Brock. Oliver screams and starts pushing with everything he has! His triceps shows every cross-striation. His shoulders are shredded. His biceps vein looks massive and mean. His chest is heaving with ripped abs and sweat pouring off him. Titus’ smile turns to gritting teeth. “If this kid’s ripped muscle pushes through Titus’ King’s Move, it will send me over the edge,” whispers a guy to his friend right near the table. This excites Oliver even more, somehow allowing him to push even harder. His ripped triceps start to very slowly move Titus’ arm towards the pin pad. Oliver looks down at the guy watching and sees his eyes getting bigger and the guy says, “Oh my God! He’s doing it!” The guy starts shaking. Oliver screams again, pushing more! His triceps is exploding. The crowd starts speaking again… “This kid’s strength is insane! He’s doing it with just his triceps!” “This kid bodybuilder is beating the strongest arm wrestler at his own sport!” “No! You can’t!” mutters Titus. A cracking sound starts to come from Titus’ arm. “Stop! You’re going to break his arm,” screams Brock. Oliver backs off. “Want to give up, so I can spare your arm,” Oliver asks. “I’ll never give up!” “Good, cause I wanna see how strong these triceps are,” yells Oliver. Oliver looks directly at Brock. He screams and pushes again. His ripped triceps is monstrously huge. Titus’ arm moves slightly. It’s getting stuck as the bones near the elbow start touching. Titus’ arm is nearly at the pin pad, but now it’s completely stuck. “You think he could break his arm,” someone asks from the crowd. “No man. I don’t think it’s possible,” replies another. Oliver gets excited and goes nuts! He screams, and his triceps responds somehow pushing harder. “Yeah, I’m gonna do it,” screams Oliver. Titus starts to scream. His arm starts to slightly bend under the strength of Oliver’s triceps. Oliver looks at Brock. Brock has his hands on his head in disbelief. Oliver screams again pushing as hard as he can with just his triceps strength. About three seconds later, a grinding sound and then…SNAP! Oliver breaks Titus’ arm. Titus’ hand hits the pin pad. He pulls his arm away grabbing it for support. Oliver slams his fist down onto the pad, crushing the pad and bending one of the thick steel supports holding the table up. He then hits a double biceps shot at Titus. Incredibly ripped biceps explode to over 24 inches with high peaks. Lats flare out like wings. Abs shredded. Sweat pouring off his body giving it a beautiful shine. Cheers and shock coming from the crowd. Mike gives Oliver a hug. “I knew you could do it, Olly,” says Mike. “I couldn’t have done all this without you, Big Mike,” responds Oliver. “Maybe you should call me, Little Mike, from now on.” They laugh. Brock runs over to his Dad and takes him away for medical attention. Someone from the crowd says, “Bro, you broke the table.” Oliver looks at it. There are four steel support bars that run from the base on the floor to the tabletop. One of them is bent inwards. Oliver bends down and grabs the bent support bar at the middle of the bend with his left hand. His other hand is on the tabletop for support. Oliver grunts and starts pulling. His biceps and forearm explode as does his lat. Very slowly, Oliver starts bending the support bar straight. “No way! This kid is bending fucking steel,” says one guy from the crowd. “Jesus, his arm strength is off the scale!” Oliver completely straightens the support bar. He then hits another double biceps shot at the crowd. The crowd cheers. The crowd comes over to Oliver for pictures and autographs. Oliver looks at Mike. “Let’s keep doing this shit! I want to see how strong I can get!” Mike responds, “Hell yeah kid!” THE END

Thanks for your patience and apologies for my inexperience. Thanks for the guys who helped me! Hi guys, just giving it a go as I had been thinking of this story for a while. I have a few chapters in mind and this is my first attempt. Please note this story contains snuff (not gore though) and if you are offended or it is not for you please do not read. Chapter 1 - The new neighbours In the remote tropical Australia village where they grew up, Paul and his family were enjoying a typical Aussie life, a quiet environment, plenty of sunshine and the nearby beach. His father was a farmer and his mother a hairdresser. The father played some rugby in his younger years so he built himself a respectable hunky body, and he enjoyed training his son as well as swimming a lot in the blue ocean. At 18 y o Paul had a very toned body, and his father gathered some weights for him to build some muscles in the backyard. Paul was also starting to develop attraction for males and muscles, and every time he would see muscle hunks at the beach and around town he would definitely love that sight. One day new neighbours arrived, in the house next to Paul’s family. They seemed like a nice family, apparently they came from Armenia and they had an overall arab look and features. They had a boy, the young Alex who will soon become Paul's friend, a lovely wife, and…the father. The father was a handsome, Arab looking hunk, and what really impressed Paul was his sheer size. The man was a beast, looked huge especially in his shorts and tank top, with massive legs, a pair of huge arms and everything else was just… humongous. His name was Milos and they met him shortly after his arrival where they introduced themselves to his family. Their English was basic back then, but they seemed like nice people. Milos was very assertive and dominant straight away, very confident and almost arrogant at times. They brought some homemade biscuits and they came into our garden for a drink. Paul was taken aback when he shook the big man’s hand, he felt a jolt in his crotch when the powerful paw almost crushed his hand. He loved muscle and big guys, and was realising the effect that powerful muscle men were having on him. His cock would twitch and stir, but now that he was staring at Milos, looking at his chest barely contained by that tank top, those footy shorts were unable to contain those huge legs and those bare feet were so much bigger and more manly than his own or his father’s... It was lust, pure lust for muscles and power that comes with them. Looking at Milos strutting his muscles around barefoot was making his cock real hard and he could barely control it. He started imagining how strong the guy was and what he could do with his muscles. His mother asked him “Wow you’re a big guy, how tall are you? You must weigh over a hundred kilos!” Milos answered very confidently “I know, I am tall 1,95 metres and weigh 135 Kilo but I like to train and keep strong!”. On that he flexed one arm and the bicep and tricep exploded in size. His mother laughed and wowed but Paul was feeling his cock going in steel mode…and he ran to the toilet. Paul pulled out his 7” thick jock rod and could not believe how hard it got. Quickly pumped it thinking of those arms still vivid in his mind, and he dumped a load with such vigour that he trembled on his feet. He barely contained the ropes of cum with a bunch of toilet paper. After a few moments he came out of the toilet trying to pretend nothing happened but felt completely self conscious.. He thought his father was built and he was just a 1,85m tall 90 Kilo ex rugby guy. This hulk was at another level. The son was quiet, and for his young age he was already pretty build, following his father’s genes. The mothers were commenting how big and strong he was for his age, and that he was going to be another hunk for sure. His mother commented “I know, the doctor was so surprised that he is already 60% heavier compared to the average weight at his age, and it is is not fat!” That was unbelievable!The boy surely looked very, very solid especially at his age. He had a really good shape and his muscles were defined and visible under his paper thin skin. Later that night Paul was furiously pumping another huge load out thinking of Milos' hulked out arms and shoulders. He could not get over how big his pecs were and the moment he was thinking of something that he could do with his muscles power, his cock would erupt so much that his balls would hurt. Paul also looked at his body in the mirror and quickly did a few sets of pushups to tone up and get some pump. And instead of calming him down he was just ready for another explosion. Later that month he enjoyed watching Alex’s father in the backyard, working in the garden and showing off his muscles. He definitely accepted the fact that he was not only gay but that he was completely into muscle and powerful guys. Just looking at the giant muscleman strutting his muscles in the garden and lifting stuff effortlessly was making him hard. One day he saw him lifting some heavy badass stuff from the garden and shoving it on a small van, and his dick was painfully hard. Then he noticed that Milos was barefoot, another thing that made Paul absolutely nuts.After watching this behemoth constricting a huge amount of dry wooden sticks and poles in his arms, then crushing them, and noticing his huge back rippling with muscles, his dick started uncontrollably spewing cum, and that was his first hands free experience. When these episodes happened his orgasm was so powerful he would lose control of his body for a moment. When bumping into Milos he was always self conscious and shy, he was super scared that they would find out his perv habit and the fact he was turned on by that stuff. Then one day they decided to go on a trip together on a nearby lake. It was the middle of summer and the sun was scorching hot. Once they got there it was already incredibly hot to see Milos barechested, barefoot and strutting around…wearing speedos that did nothing to hide a huge package between his legs…then he helped Paul’s father to get the boat off the trailer, and he did so by basically lifting it like it was a piece of paper. Paul went so hard by watching that he had to jump in the water to calm down his steel hose. Alex was amused and not really minding much but was watching carefully at Paul’s reactions, as if he was really trying to understand what was going on. Also in his speedos Alex was already showing some muscle definition, he was definitely the best built and biggest youngster he had ever seen. That evening they all slept in the same cabin, a simple small cabin with a couple of bedrooms, one for each couple and the children slept together on the big sofa in the lounge. When they went to bed, Alex was very chatty and was asking Paul about his training and his father. “So why is your father so much smaller than mine? It must not be that strong. I bet my father could beat him up on arm wrestling or just wrestling on the floor” Paul was a bit surprised and didn’t know what to answer. “Well yes but size is not all, he was a very good rugby player and he taught me a lot of fun stuff. He also taught me weights lifting” Alex's face lit up “Oh weights so you train now? I want to train but they don’t let me. Papa has a gym in the garage, he lifts very heavy stuff but I am not allowed in. So I just do push ups sometimes.” With that he flexed his arm a bit, his biceps were visible and his pecs were definitely there. Paul gulped down and said “Oh well you can use my weights sometimes” Alex was in heaven ”Oh yes please but don’t tell mama or papa” Suddenly they heard voices shouting from the bedroom where Milos and his wife were. Paul was worried and Alex said “Oh …this happens sometimes, I try to ignore and hope it ends quickly but sometimes it doesn’t” And suddenly the discussion picked up and a loud slap filled the air and the mother opened the door and went outside crying. Milos followed her wearing only his tight briefs, then Paul’s parents came out as they heard and gathered outside. The mother was crying and Milos was shouting her to shut up and come inside OR…. Paul’s father stepped towards him and placed his hand on the huge man’s naked shoulder “Hey I don’t want to get in a discussion but I’m sure this can be resolved by talking, let’s go inside”. Swiftly Milos grabbed Pauls’ father's wrist with his huge hand. Paul was watching this behemoth, naked except for his tiny briefs, towering over the much inferior guy, with his muscles in full pump, and could not help but feel his cock engorge spasmodically. Milos then let him go and walked inside his bedroom and slammed the door. After that there was a chat with the poor woman and we were all shaken. The Morning after it was awkward but more disturbingly we realised that Milos was not a good guy and with his muscles and force he was also very dangerous. Eventually we all got home and everyone was back in his house but we worried about the woman and what could have happened. After that episode there were many others involving violence, police checks, issues and troubles. Paul’s family was trying to not interfere but often the mother would ask them to look after Alex, so he would often stay at mine and we would share the bedroom and play a lot together. That’s when we started working out together, and realised that Alex was indeed very strong and although he was around ten years younger he was catching up extremely fast! One evening it was quiet but Paul heard voices from the neighbour's backyard. Alex was fast asleep in the other bed nearby. He noticed Milos with two other men, they were quite big but not as big as Milos, and they were having a serious discussion. They were keeping it quiet but it was not a normal scene. Suddenly Paul saw Milos grabbing the other guy by the throat, they were speaking armenian. Milos lifted the guy by the throat with his arms like he was a doll. He was clean off the ground and he repeatedly asked him questions. At some point the other guy was visibly scared and tried to hit Milos. Milos greeted his teeth in anger and compressed the guy’s throat until he passed away. He dropped him to the floor and turned on to the guy who had just hit him multiple times with his fists, causing apparently no damage to the huge guy. The guy tried to hit him in the face but Milos stopped his hand with his huge paw. Then grabbed the other hand in his other big paw and powerfully forced both hands behind the guy who was being completely overpowered. Then he bearhugged him swiftly and lifted him off the ground. While in his embrace, he said something in Armenian which sounded really bad, then he added “And now you pay”. He started trembling and gritting his teeth and constricting the guy in his arms. Paul could not believe what he was seeing, he watched as Alex was fast asleep and felt his cock start to throb uncontrollably and ooze precum profusely. As the guy was trying to scream but was muffled by the powerful bearhug, Paul could see Milos’ huge back exerting power and he saw the rib cage being crushed by raw human power. His cock was steel hard. He heard a loud crack of ribcage breaking and giving up. His cock exploded in the biggest orgasm Paul had ever experienced. Paul suddenly let go of a moan as he was taken by surprise “Aaaaarghh…” Milos heard him and turned his head to see who was there. Paul freaked out, still ejecting ropes of cum in his shorts, while lowering his head in order not to be seen. Then he heard more muffled shouting and more bones snapping. Must be the other guy! Then some muffled noises, and the van going off….then coming back moments later. Shit the guy must have disposed of the bodies! Paul was in complete shock. That night the wife was not at home, for reasons we did not know, and he asked us to look after Alex one more time. The morning after they had breakfast Alex returned to his father’s house, and Milos looked at Paul with a menacing face. Paul was shitscared to be caught, bit nothing happened. Milos was definitely a scary man. After that night Paul was both super scared and turned on, and did not know anyone to talk to about that stuff! He did not want to talk for fear of ending up like those men… After that night there were no other similar shocking surprises but every now and then Milos was behaving strangely and dodgy people would come and go, their animated discussions and fights with the mother kept happening and Alex was clearly in denial or perhaps he was trying to protect himself. One thing that happened a few months after is that a medical visit found Alex really heavier than the average, at 57 Kilo, and blood tests revealed the presence of testosterone that was not normal at that age. The doctor however said that it was all good from a health point of view and that it would have been necessary to ensure feeding the boy properly , with high protein and also allowing him to exercise as much as he wanted. But his mother did not like the weight training and she did not approve of his father’s ways, so as a compromise she allowed Alex to train at the local gymnastics club, where lots of boys were having fun and building great bodies. Paul was super impressed and he was thinking that the boy was going to grow a lot and could not wait to see the development of that muscle boy. Years flew by and the boy grew. Every time Paul caught up with him he seemed thicker, taller, stronger, even more solid and his voice changed too. In a couple of years he reached 72 kilo of solid muscle, he never seemed to put on any fat. Alex would often show off to Alex his new gymnastics tricks and Paul was in complete awe of how much power and control was in this muscled boy. He would do planks, handstands, lift his body in all sorts of ways and show the massive strength he had. At Paul’s 21th birthday they all gathered at Paul’s home (again Alex’s parents were in some trouble and they left the kid with Paul’s family.. Paul was still bigger than Alex but Alex was catching up fast…they were almost the same height. During the party someone commented on how big Alex’s biceps were and he flexed them. Dave, one of Paul’s friends, said “Oh but I am surely stronger, and you are too young so you won’t be strong” Immediately Alex faced the guy and shouted to his face “show me then”. He was already shirtless, sat down at the table and offered his meaty calloused hand to the bully. The guy looked at the arm which was defined, and looked extremely solid. The moment he grabbed his meaty hand he realised he was in bad trouble. Dave started pushing the arm of the strong boy, which was not moving, and he thought he could have a chance. Then he looked up and saw that the boy was not even exerting much power, he was just looking and grinning. Then suddenly he felt a jolt of power and the boy literally and methodically smashed down the much older guy’s arm, showing that his power was real. The guy was shocked and could not believe it, he felt Alex’s arm and gasped at the feeling of suck hardness. Then Paul’s father wanted to give it a go. “Hey boy don’t be shy, give me all that you have ok? I am fair and will try to knock you down, so be brutal ok?” Alex looked more than ready. His hand engulfed the much older man like a muscled trap and suddenly they started. After a moment of struggle, the boy quickly and in full control smashed down the older man’s hand and arm. The father was shocked and gasped “Wow man you are one strong boy! Well done” then gave each other a man's hug and the father was even more shocked when he felt the hardness of the boy’s body. In the evening there were comments about the boys’ power, and how fast he was growing. Late that night Paul was waiting for Alex to come to sleep in his room, as the boy was spending more and more time in the toilet, especially in the evening. Paul thought what that meant but then shook off the thought, it was definitely too early and maybe the kid needed some time on his own…or maybe he was wrong. When Alex came out his briefs were looking real tight on him. Paul gasped internally as Alex’s body was looking magnificent, strutting those thick defined strong legs and that amazing chest and arms were making Paul really jealous, the kid was passing Paul quickly. Then suddenly Alex said “Hey I saw bodybuilders doing pumps and stuff on youtube, I thought we can do it together to get our muscles pumped, wanna try?” Paul was again in disbelief that this young muscle god had these ideas in mind. But he was too excited not to join this type of fun. “So if I wanted to pump my biceps, you would need to grab my hands and push them down, so while I work my biceps you can work your triceps”. And so Paul did. At first it was easy but then Alex increased the rate. “You are not pushing down much are you”. But Paul just could not compete with the boy’s muscle power. ‘Ok I have an idea, keep your straight arms with your body and make fists” then he grabbed Paul’s fists with his big hands and started….lifting him. With his biceps only, he lifted Paul completely off the floor and started curling him in the air. Then Alex dropped him down and said “Also this is good for shoulders then” and grabbed Paul by his armpits with his paws and lifted him again, extending his arms all the way up and executing many reps like he was a doll. Then he dropped him and flexed “Oh man feels so good! Check this out, feel how hard they are. You are much softer than me for some reason” and he struck a solid, impressive double bicep pose. Paul was impressed and like in a trance he put both hands on those sculpted huge bicep peaks, and felt the hardness. “Paul you need to train more, we can train together and we can both grow big and strong!” Paul was ashamed that he was not as strong as the kid but excited at the same time. “Well it’s time to go to bed I guess” Alex looked at him with his piercing green eyes and turned around, jumping on the bed. “Night champ, see you in the morning, we go for a swim” Paul looked at the sculpted muscles and his massive, strong legs. He wanted to be that big himself. With that, they went to bed and Paul had a massive wet dream that night.

Here's a one-off that came to me when I was lying in bed before I fell asleep. Yeah...this would totally be me!!! Hope you enjoy as much as I did that night and while writing it!! How Do You Spell Masculinity?? Ian sprinkled the salt into an incomplete circle, stepped inside, and the closed it with the rest of the salt he had. Before him was a medium sized alter that he had built just as the book had described, and next to that were the items for the ceremony. Lighting first the five red candles, then the three black, and finally the white, (all easily purchased on Amazon Prime) he nervously waited for the time to be exactly two in the morning. This had all begun six days ago when he was on an eBook downloading site looking for the latest Stephen King novel. Glancing over the many different titles as he scrolled through the list, he came across a listing for “100 Books of Witchcraft and Sorcery.“ Thinking that this might be something interesting to look through, and always fascinated with the occult, he downloaded the zipped file. Unzipping and then Opening the downloaded folder, he found titles such as the Necronomicon, The Grimoire for the Apprentice Wizard, Libellus Migicus, and The Fifth Book of the Black Order. One book peaked his interest significantly: Physical Magic and Spell-Casting. Most of the spells in this “Grimoire” were focused on turning straight hair to curley or vice-versa, acquiring different coloured eyes, or helping the caster build larger muscles. Being fairly short with an average body, this spell caught his attention, but it was the one after it that peaked his interest. Total Body Modification in Regard to Masculinity or Femininity allowed the spell caster to summon a ‘helpful demon’ ( there were such things???) and request they give the ideal masculine/feminine body that they desired. Reading over the spell, it all seemed quite easy: Must be done on the first of the month. A circle and a pentagram must be drawn in salt The caster must be within the circle and never leave till the spell was complete Must be done at 2 am Must possess a silver knife and silver spoon Must have three specific coloured candles Must have three items that the caster perceived as masculine/feminine to be burnt in a copper pot Four tablespoons of raw wildflower honey. One persimmon for the demon to feast on. (Really??). If the demon finds you worthy to grant your request, he will feast on it to gather the energy to make your masculine/feminine body a reality. Once the items were ash and spread over the heart and chest of the caster, they needed to just speak out loud their desires. From this, the demon would choose to grant or deny the request. Being a person with a lot of interests and nothing to loose, and since it was January 25th, he thought, why not, and decided to do it. From Amazon, Ian was able to purchase the silver knife (who knew??!!), the copper pot, and the candles, and from the corner shop he was able to procure three large boxes of salt. The items that symbolized masculinity were a little harder. The first thing he cane up with was the few chest hairs that he had growing in the center of his chest. Ian was not a very hairy person, and he always associated facial and body hair with masculinity. So, with a dry razor he cut the fifteen chest hairs from his body and placed them in an envelope. A huge penis was definitely a symbol of masculinity, but how could you burn one? At work the next day at his desk, he decided the best way was to make a paper mache one. That night he got a long balloon, mixed flour and water to make a paste, put strips of newspaper in the mixture, and proceeded to cover the 15” balloon with it. To create the head, he just piled more and more paper until the balloon had a massive mushroom cap. The next night he popped the balloon, and painted the hardened cast to look as close to a penis as he could; veins and all. The final item alluded him. Ian wanted it to be a jock strap, but he couldn’t just buy one. That wouldn’t be masculine enough for him. It needed to have been owned and worn by someone who was the epitome of masculinity. Searching online, Ian found a website where he could “purchase” a man’s company for an hour or for a night. Looking through the pictures, he found a rugged muscular hunk who screamed masculinity to Ian. Emailing the escort, Ian asked how much it would cost to have him wear a jockstrap all day, work out in it, and then give it to him. That’s all. The escort respond back quickly asking for £350. Knowing this was the only way of getting what he wanted, Ian agreed to transfer half the money that day and then the rest on pick up. He agreed to meet the escort on the 31st at 3pm at a Starbucks on St. Martin’s Lane. Mario, who originated from Italy, actually ended up being a really nice guy. Ian bought latte’s for both of them and they had a 15 minute chat about Mario’s career goals, the law school he was attending, and whether or not he would return to Italy when he finished. When the drinks were finished, Mario stood up to leave, and handed over the jockstrap in a paper bag. No questions were asked, and he acted as if this was a totally natural request. Ian transferred the second half of the money to Mario, and they parted ways, each with what they wanted. Ian waited until he got home to open the bag, and right away from the musky smell he could tell the stud had definitely worn it all day and while he worked out. There were even some stray pubic hair in the red jock for added measure. The sitting room was the largest room in the house, so Ian proceeded to move all of the furniture to the sides of the room. Taking a pencil, he carefully sketched out a pentagram and circle on the floor, and the proceeded to follow the lines with the salt, leaving an entrance open for him to come and go with. He then proceeded to fashion an altar, as requested in the book, and placed that in the middle of the circle. As the time neared 12:30 am, Ian took a bath in rosewater as the book recommended. At around 1:45 am, he entered the circle with the necessary items, and closed it with salt behind him. Placing the persimmon on the right half of the altar for the demon, Ian composed himself and began the ceremony. Lighting the candles from left to right, he began to meditate on what the desired outcome would be from that night… what the word masculinity meant to him Several times his average penis started to get hard thinking of men with huge muscles hairy muscle and massive cocks, but he calmed himself down and continued to meditate. Finally, the alarm sounded. It was 2am. A little nervous, Ian read aloud the spell: - Oh god’s of darkness and Lucifer lord of the underworld, please grant me my wish. Masculinity is the greatest power in this universe, and I wish to accept it as my own. Receive these items as my sacrifice. Chest hair from my own body, that only grows from surges of testosterone. Ian took the chest hair and placed them in the copper bowl. ⁃ A large penis that only one of true masculinity would possess. The large phallus was next placed in the pot. ⁃ And finally, a jock strap owned by the most masculine of men, and worn while working out to improve his masculine body. Ian took the jock strap, longing to smell it, and placed it in the pot. ⁃ In flames I send you these symbols of my desire and my need. Taking a wooden match, Ian lit the paper mache penis. He watched this quickly burn, igniting both the jockstrap and the chest hair. Within ten minutes, they were all a mixture of ash. Taking the silver spoon, Ian scooped up the honey and dropped it into the pot. Mixing it and the ash together with the silver knife, he then proceeded to spread the thick solution on his chest, specifically over his heart. As he rubbed it in he said: - I wish to be the most powerful of all men. Please grant me my wish. Make me masculine. Make me as masculine a man as they come. I beg of you to grant me my desire and bestow me your blessings. What blessings you can bestow on me is as I require. Here Ian has to speak aloud what he wanted the demon to bestow on him. - I want to be muscular. I want a great body, to be tall, and have chest hair. Having seen many movies where a wish went wrong when no detail was given, Ian thought it best to explain himself. - Yeah. I wish to have a muscular body... maybe like a pro bodybuilder, be tall, around 6’4, and have thick hair on my face and chest. Realizing he had forgotten something important: - Oh... um... and a big cock. I’d love a huge cock, a really hairy body, and bulging muscles that every guy would be envious of. Just talking about it was starting to get him horny and hard. - Not just a big cock. A huge cock. Really long and thick. And I’ve always wanted to be tall. Have everyone look up at me when I enter the room. They have to look up because they have no choice. And really muscular, where it’s difficult to buy clothes for my body. Oh yeah... and so hairy that when I shave, it just grows back an hour later. It’s almost a waste of time to even bother shaving. Ian was so horny now just talking about his dream body that he started to stroke himself. - A body so huge with muscles that honestly you can’t even wear clothes I’m just so massive. Hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of pounds of thick pulsating muscles. I’m so tall that I have to bend to get through every door, and my cock!! Fuck!! My cock is massive... like 15” long and thick as my wrist, and my balls!! Two grapefruit’s!!! I’m such a fuckin Alpha stud that I can fuck anyone I want... and I do. I’m always constantly leaking pre cum and horny... and fuck I’m hairy!!! Some might think it’s too much... but I don’t care! Ian took some of the ashes mixed with honey and used it as lube to stroke himself even more. Caught up so much in body lust he spoke with such longing: - There I am... standing so tall... like several stories tall... and I’m thousands of pounds of muscle. My whole body is coated in thick dark hair, but nothing can cover how massive my muscles are. I’m a freak, but I love it. I get off on it!! My balls are so enormous... everyone wonders how they can be so big!! My voice is so deep, my beard so full, and my cock is so thick and long I could fuck a building with it!!! Just at the point if cunning, Ian cried out... - Do whatever you want, I just demand you make me into a fucking muscle monster!! My muscles are so huge it’s impossible to measure them but I know I weigh several hundred tons... and that may be a low estimate!!! My cock... fuck it’s so huge it’s too big to even fuck a blue whale with... and the head...it flares out so huge and so wide it’s bigger then my own head!!! And my balls... my balls are as big as cars... I’m as hairy as can be, covered in tattoos, pierced, and exude a smell that turns everyone on. People come from countries away to just worship me and jerk off at my feet. My voice... it’s so deep it’s just a rumble... like thunder!! I have the testosterone of 29,000 warriors, 150,0000 cave men... yeah... I’m so masculine I’ve fuckin de evolved!! The world around me is so small and my voice so deep I pretty much just grunt. My instincts are to just fuck and grow... The whole world worships me yet is terrified of me because I’m a fuckin muscle mutant, millions of tons of muscle, my cock defies description, so long... so thick... so veiny... thousands of highways of veins just to fill it... so freakish it would be disgusting if it wasn’t so hot... it’s constantly dripping gallons of precum, and I have to cum every ten minutes because my balls are constantly full!! I’m a lumbering mass of caveman testosterone, so fuckin hairy... fuck... so hairy I must be part gorilla... and damn... I’m so tall... so tall that my shadow covers all of London!! I have to be 300 feet... no 500 feet if I’m an inch and I just keep growing!!! I can’t stop!!! I won’t stop!!! I’m the worlds nightmare!!! Ian came repeatedly all over the alter, all over the pentagram, and all over the candles putting several of them out. It was one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever had, and he felt totally spent when it was over. Walking through the circle of salt to get some paper towels to clean up, Ian just laughed at all he had done. He was covered with cum, honey, and it would take days to simply vacuum up all of the salt. All of that mess had been worth it for such an incredible orgasm. It had been days since he had ejaculated, and obviously, he needed to after that massive load. Gathering the roll of paper towels from the kitchen and a trash bag, Ian began clearing the mess up. After cleaning the honey and cum from his chest, he then proceeded to clean up his sitting room. He put all of the candles, the copper pot, and the chalice that held the honey into the rubbish bag since none of it was worth keeping. Once that was deposited next to the bins in the kitchen, he vacuumed up all of the salt, which was actually easier then he thought it was going to be. He tossed all of the salt into the rubbish and moved the sofa back into position. No one ever would know that a demonic ritual had ever taken place there. He threw himself down into the couch in exhaustion, the furniture creaking under his weight, and closed his eyes. Damn that was fun... even if it had cost several hundred of pounds. If anything, it would be a funny story to write about on his blog. Suddenly famished, he flung himself off the sofa with the decision to grab some crisps from the kitchen. He was on his way out of the sitting room when he slammed his head on the door jam. Stopping to take stock of what had happened... he suddenly realized that he had actually hit his head on the door jam!!! Ian’s heart started beating faster as he comprehended that indeed he was now slightly taller then the door jam and getting taller by the second! How could he not have noticed this??!! No! There was no way that he could be getting taller!!! It wasn’t possible. He has to have fallen asleep when he sat down on the couch. A demon couldn’t actually... didn’t actually… He ran to the persimmon and with the silver knife cut it open. Inside it was empty. Not one seed… not one drop of juice. Nothing!!!! The demon had eaten the entire thing... No!! That wasn’t possible!! He had to be asleep. He couldn’t be getting taller!! He paced around the room but each second it seemed to get smaller and smaller as he shot further up. Trying to remember what he asked for, Ian played back the evening in his head. He had asked to be 6’4... but he was already taller then that. No... he had elaborated by saying everyone had to look up when he entered a room... that he... his stomach fell.. was several stories tall... Several stories tall! Several stories tall!!!! He had asked to be several stories tall and he was actually growing taller. This shouldn’t be possible! This only happened in... Fuck... I went further... I did!! I said my shadow covered London!! I said I was... Whether it was the reality of getting talker or the thought of how tall he was to become... Ian’s cock started to get hard. It looked so tiny next to his newly enormous hands, but when it was fully hard, it pulsed with a life of its own. Each second it pulsed in time with his heartbeat, and each second more and more blood was forced into it. The sensation was over whelming. New thick veins began to form and erupt all over Ian’s cock in order to supply more and more blood. Ian winced a little as his cock kept getting harder and harder... like it was in one of those vacuum pumps he had tried. This time though, he wasn’t just getting hard, he was getting thicker... much thicker. My cock is as thick as a beer can already... and so fucking veiny! Ian cried out as his cock got thicker still. He wrapped his hand around it and discovered even that couldn’t fully go around it. With more blood pumped in, his fingers pried apart further... and then further still. Feeling like he was receiving punch after punch to the groin, Ian kneeled on the floor. Like his cock, his balls had begun to swell. Within minutes, they were both the size of peaches and fighting for room in his tight sack. His tender balls were hot to the touch... practically burning as they proceeded to gain more mass. He could even hear and feel them churning, becoming supersized sperm factories. Ian was sweating as his world kept changing around him. He laughed a little when he thought of the situation he had gotten himself into... and got butterflies in his stomach when he thought about what he might become. He had demanded the demon turn him into a lumbering muscle monster! Surly the demon knew he was just horny as hell and role playing! Demons had to be reasonable... right?? His cock was so thick now that his growing hands only went halfway around it. It had started getting longer too, and had to be nearly 10” long. The head of his cock had never been much thicker then the shaft, but Ian could now see that it had started growing with the rest of his cock, and was now a huge mushroom sitting on top of his cock. Ian spread out is hand on it, and discovered the head was wider then his palm, and had to be at least 5” long. Fuck!! His head was bigger then some guys cocks!!! Wave after wave of testosterone was entering Ian’s system, and he found that his pubes were getting much longer and fuller. Doing his best to look at the rest of his body, he could see and feel hair shooting out of every pore. If he stayed very still, he could hear his body growing, his cock expanding, and hair sprouting everywhere. He itched his face and felt the starting of a thick beard growing in. He tried standing up to look in the bathroom mirror, but he was taller then the ceiling now. Kneeling quickly down again, he tried to crawl through the door, but his shoulders had begun to widen immensely, to pack on muscle, he guessed, and he simply couldn’t get through the door. I’m a prisoner of my own sitting room, he thought as he sat on the floor. Looking down, his chest was now completely covered in a thick pelt of brown hair. Running his fingers through it, it just felt so good... so masculine. He moved his hands to his face and felt the tremendous growth of beard that had occurred in the past few minutes. It felt long, curly, and dense. Sticking his finger into the beard, he could hardly feel skin beneath!! It was like there were 10 hairs growing out of each pore!! Hair was now coating his arms and legs, the back of his hands, and the tops of his feet. Lifting his arm, he saw long black hair had taken up resident in his pit, coming in as thick as the rest of the hair on his body. Within not time at all, Ian was as hairy as he had wished to be… and still… like everything else on his body, proceeded to flourish. The more the super strong testosterone flowed into his body, the more Ian was welcoming the changes that were occurring. His cock had to be at least 15” long and so thick. It was becoming a pure column of masculinity! His huge balls had stretched his sack further and further and just kept getting larger. Even his own body was on an unstoppable course growing taller and taller, his cock increasing longer and thicker, and everywhere possible, hairier. Ian knew deep down the demon had heard everything he had said, and by sunrise tomorrow he would be the creature he had envisioned as he came: taller the anything on earth, oozing testosterone from every pore, muscles erupting over his entire body, and a cock that was a force all its own. As if his acknowledgement further welcomed the changes, the testosterone of 29,000 warriors began to be released into his body and his muscles began to grow. His shoulders, which had already grown wider for this purpose, simply erupted in mass. Ian cried out in ecstasy as he felt this first surge of muscle. As each muscle in his shoulders proceeded to gain serious bulk, his deltoids were becoming rounder and more defined, adding more and more size to his already wide shoulders. His neck joined in with his delts, quickly becoming an enormous pillar of muscle. From his shoulders to his neck, traps began to emerge, thicken, and gain more girth. His already hard and growing cock was leaking a copious amount of precum as Ian fell into a trance of constant muscle growth. Pecs burst out of his hairy chest, becoming firm and round, inching out further and further until the sheer weight of these brand-new pecs began to force his nipples to point down. Fuck!!! Even his nipples were growing so huge… so firm. Just owning pecs like this was the most incredible feeling; he couldn’t imagine what an entire body of muscle felt like!! With one hand doing its best to stroke his massive cock, the other enjoyed feeling the sheer size and feel of such muscle and hair. Moving down, bricks of abs began to explode out of his lower torso. As each one burst out, Ian simply whimpered, not even able to vocalize what he was feeling. All he could do was drool and try and feel each blossoming muscle with his hands. His giant cock was shooting precum now like a geyser, hitting the wall with a slap. Each abdominal muscle fought for space, getting more dense by the minute. The crevices in between becoming deeper and deeper, that Ian could nearly stick half of his immense fingers in them. His Adonis belt enhanced as his waist tried its best to gain more size while remaining as tight as possible. What is happening to me, Ian thought as he urged on more and more growth. Even his pelvic floor muscles grew larger and thicker to support the 18” of cock he was now sporting. As more and more testosterone took over his system, Ian craved more and more growth. A beast was being released, and it never would be satisfied. Ian flexed and bounced his pecs, loving his new ability to do this. As he looked around the room, he quickly realized his body was taking over most of the space. How tall am I now, he wondered. Have I passed 12 feet in height?? What will it feel like to be hundreds of stories tall, his legs dwarfing buildings, and his head hidden in the clouds? I’m scared shitless right now, but it’s the best scary feeling I’ve ever felt. I can’t stop it… I don’t know if I want to stop it if I could! How will I live when I’m that big? Fuck!! Who cares!!! I’ll be a living mountain!!! No! Don’t think that way!! This has to stop soon!! He knew the demon must have enjoyed granting this wish, a blessing and a curse all wrapped in one. More veins erupted onto the surface of his cock to better supply more blood to the growing appendage. His cock didn’t look real anymore. It looked like one of those morphs you once saw on Tumblr. It was now becoming so thick that his pelvis was becoming larger just to accommodate its size. Ian tried to think what its thickness reminded him off, but he cane up short. It must be as thick as three wine bottles stuck together was the best he could come up with. His balls also forced his legs wider. They were so immense now that the sack sat comfortably on the floor filled with two watermelon sized testicles sending out wave after wave of insane growth. Ian screamed out as his upper arms blasted with sudden mass as his biceps and triceps quadrupled in size. His arms were already so long that the muscles had plenty of room to multiply into colossal mounds. Flexing his arms felt totally comfortable to the testosterone fuelled Ian. Each time he did it, the peak was higher and higher, thicker and denser. If only there were people here to witness his reality defying size. Trying to make more room for his increasing body, Ian swung his lower arm to push the sofa to the side, but instead succeeded in fully demolishing it with little more then a tap. Ian simply laughed when he saw this happen. I’m so fucking strong now!!! So strong!!!! He picked up a piece of the couch and squeezed it, watching it disintegrate between his fingers. Destroying the sofa gave Ian a little more space, but his entire body was beginning to take up the entire large room. He was already sitting in the floor, his back resting against one wall, his head inching up to the ceiling, his legs folded on the floor, and his feet taking up nearly half the opposite wall. As his upper arms bulked up in size, his firearms followed, becoming as thick as his leg, then surpassing that. His hands, nearly four feet long, also became stronger and more rugged as they morphed into the hands of a true weight lifter. Each digit swelled into fat sausage-like fingers, and the palms of his hands were hardened with the toughest calluses. He opened and closed his hands and fell in love with this appearance of pure dominance… pure masculinity. His hard cock surged up longer and hit the opposite wall, putting a indentation into it. Ian laughed as he flexed it, watching as it put further holes in the wall. I have a fucking wrecking ball for a cock!!! As Ian flexed his arms over and over again, enjoying the bloated feel of his muscles, his lats began to spread out wider and wider. How many inches around was his chest?? Had he hit the 150 inches mark?? He had surpassed that in seconds as his lats grew more and more freaky, forcing his own arms to bow out. His rib cage also had to have grown in the process since his chest was so insanely huge. Looking down at his torso the best he could, his lower half, though tapering in significantly, had to be at least 90” around. These were all guesses. Ian had no clue how huge he was... all that he knew was that his head was inching closer to the ceiling and soon he’d have no other option then to demolish the house around him. It sounded like a bomb went off the moment his quads began to grow. Quickly they began to take up more and more space, forcing his legs to straighten out more. Barely able to see his quads due to his pecs and position on the wall, he felt them with his hands and realized they had to be as big as redwood trees and still growing. Painfully, He could feel his pelvis shifting, altering, and adjusting itself to enable his quads more room to grow. He was sure that with these quads he would definitely find it difficult to walk unless it was in a bow legged fashion, or the traditional waddle of the bodybuilder. He was able to see his left calf grow until it was the size of his original quad, and then burst even larger. Like his hands before them, his feet got fatter and wider as muscle mass packed into them. Ian has never thought of feet as sexy before, but that wasn’t until he saw how beautifully muscular his hairy feet were becoming. With a thud, Ian’s huge head hit the ceiling. He tried to crouch down more, but only succeeded in knocking the wall down behind him. He fell backward into the rubble, and realized that at least lying down in the hallway gave him a few more feet of room to grow. This is a nightmare, he thought, as heard his entire body getting larger and larger. Fuck, it’s a dream!! I’m so fucking enormous! This house is like my cocoon and I’m going to burst out of it soon. Wait till you see me, world!! He felt his cock swell more and take down part of the ceiling with it. Laughing, Ian knocked down part of the wall that separated the hallway and the kitchen. I’m a one man wrecking team!!! Hundreds of pounds of muscle were being deposited on Ian’s body each minute, as he grew bigger and bigger. Very soon he had out grown the extra few feet in the hallway and was going to have no other option then to push his way out of his ever decreasing prison. His cock had already started the fight with the walls and the ceiling, and would no doubt serve as an excellent battering-ram!! Shifting his ever growing legs, he planned to simply push the back wall out and go from there. Once his legs were straight, he could sit up, taking the entire house down with him. Then the world could finally witness its new resident... its living monument to masculinity!! He was just about to set his plan in motion when all growth ceased, and a voice filled the entire house. - Ian Winter’s... working with magics beyond your realm of understanding can be a dangerous affair. You called me, made your request known, and to teach you a lesson, I have begun to grant your desires. But never let one say that I’m not merciful. I give you a choice: I can grant you what you wanted originally... the perfect human form of masculinity... or you can continue on your journey here... What will it be? Ian lay there in silence, his entire house ready to fall down around him. The demon was willing to give him a normal life with the body he had originally wanted... or he could forget normal and embrace what he was becoming. He shifted his body slightly, sensing the weight and feel of every muscle on his body. His titanic cock was leaning against the opposite wall... it was incredible but he would never fuck again. His body was so hairy, the smell emitting from it so intoxicating... but was this what he really wanted... or had it been a silly horny fantasy? No one really wanted what he was being given... or did they? To live a life beyond massive... to tower above the world... to be a beast of pure sex and pure muscle... - What will it be, Ian Winters? Remember you have only been given less then a quarter of what you asked for. Ian opened his mouth... was he really going to do it? Was he really going to throw away his life for muscle… masculinity? YES!!!!!!! Terrified and excited at the same time to say the words, his leaking cock told the demon his answer. - Do it!!!! Let’s continue this journey!!!!!! - So be it!!! It felt like twenty nuclear reactors exploded in Ian’s body as his growth went into full throttle. - Just as you requested... So tall that your shadow covers London. Ian finally felt free as he erupted from his house. Not having to worry about that anymore, he just reveled in the orgasmic feeling of growth. Taller and taller he got, taking up more and more room!! Soon his own foot was as big as a small car, then a medium sized one... then a Hummer. The whole world was getting smaller and smaller and he loved it. He was talker then the tallest tree!! He was several stories high... he constantly took up more and more space and the feeling was indescribable!!! He shifted his stance, and he took down several houses around him. For a second he felt sorry… but what could he do? With a body like this, there was bound to be destruction!!! Ian could hear screaming coming from below him and he just grinned… no longer caring. - My cock defies description... long, thick, thousands of highways of veins... so freakish it would be disgusting... and so large you couldn’t even fuck a blue whale Were those really his words the demon was throwing back at him?? As he grew taller, his cock proceeded to have a growth spurt of its own. It was now so thick that it rivalled his waist!! Precum flowed like a river as it continually got longer and thicker. Ian felt like he was constantly being edged and this feeling only intensified with each passing second. Hanging past his knees, more and veins appeared in and around his cock. The skin was so thin that it actually had a bluish hue as thousands of more veins pushed out and pulsated on the surface forcing it to grow even larger. The head... fuck... a human could easily walk into his piss slit it was so huge!! Stretching his arm out as best he could, Ian took his middle finger and began to stick it into his piss slit. FUCKK!!!!! That felt amazing!!! He stuck it in further and began to move it in and out. I’m fucking fingering my own cock and it is the best feeling ever!!!!! - My balls are the size of cars and I have the testosterone of 150,000 cavemen! Ian roared like the beast he was becoming as his balls emitted the largest wave of caveman testosterone into his system. As his balls enhanced, so enormous and dense, they pulled his sack down virtually to his knee, other changes were beginning to occur. The hair on his head began to get longer, pushing down past his shoulders. His beard developed impossibly thicker, bushier, and longer. His whole body was now covered in the thickest black hair, but it was his chest, cock, and armpits where it was its most dense. A musty smell was emitted from Ian’s body and carried on the air. - Look at me!!!! I am so fucking masculine!!!! His voice was now so loud it could be heard 20 miles away, and it was constantly getting deeper and deeper till it sounded exactly like the thunder rumbling as requested of the demon. I can’t believe this is me... he kept thinking!! I am becoming so beautiful, so impossible!!! Fuck!!! I can’t stop growing!!! - I’m so masculine I’m de-evolving. His own words spoken by the demon hit Ian like a ton of bricks. As soon as he heard them, his entire face began to change. His brow ridge became more pronounced, his eyebrows bushier, his eyes deeper set, and his lips thicker. His PhD studies were thrown out the window, as all he could do was think about his body, his cock, his muscles, cumming, and food. Ian was pure instinct now. - I’m as hairy as can be, covered in tattoos and piercings. Ian roared and roared again as he became even hairier. His nipples suddenly had two immense silver barbells in them, his cock head had the largest Prince Albert anyone had ever seen... and both arms, chest, and abs were covered in tribal tattoos. These were virtually impossible to see due to his chest hair... but they did exist. - I’m a fucking muscle mutant, millions of tons of muscles. The words echoed in Ian’s ears and he welcomed them. Yes!! Fill me up with size!! My arms are like skyscrapers, my legs like mountains, fuck... my chest is too big to even think about measuring!!! I’m so heavy, so bloated with muscle, so ripped, every muscle pulsates on its own like it’s alive... and I keep gaining more and more mass!!! This can’t be real... but it is!!! Fuck, My lats are such massive wings they block the air flow around me!!!! - I just keep growing!!! I can’t stop!! I won’t stop!!! I’m the worlds nightmare!!! My head is punching through the clouds. I feel so alive!!! I can barely see the world below me!! All I see is an army of ants!! Look at my cock. Even with two hands I can hardly jerk it off... but I’m so horny!!! I need to cum so bad. What have I done??!! I’ve gotten my greatest wish fulfilled and I love it!! Nothing is mightier then me!! Nothing is more powerful then me!!! I am masculinity!!! From now on, when those human describe masculinity they will point up to the sky at me!!! At me!!!!!! With a roar that broke ever window for one hundred miles, Ian proceeded to ejaculate, showering the worshipers below.

This is my first story. It's going to have bite sized chapters and very regular updates (most likely daily). This is a m/m superhero romance. The first two chapters are mostly set up, but after that every chapter has plenty of sexy muscle and feats of strength, so please stick with it! Chapter 1 It began as all the best love stories do: with terrorism. The 24th of March 2013 is much like any other day. Hugo Chavez recently died, triggering what would go on to become an economic crisis in Venezuela, the UN security council has just slammed North Korea with harsh new sanctions, Justin Timberlake is topping the charts with ‘Mirrors’, protestors are waving signs outside Parliament, protesting about something, pigeons are shitting, rain is pouring, and I'm on my way to work. The newly opened Shard is difficult to miss. It towers over London’s skyline, jutting into the clouds like the lair of a comic book villain. I make my way inside, flashing my ID as I go. ‘Jake Langley’, it says in large capital letters, along with an employee number and my date of birth. I only show it as a courtesy - the security guards have all memorised my face by now. I sometimes wonder what they think of me. Am I ‘that cute, fresh faced little pastry chef with the dimples’ or do they just see me as a child straight out of college, coasting by on boyish looks, with no clue what he’s doing? I’d like to think it was the former. I’d like to. But I don’t. I wish I was the kind of guy who had the guts to ask. The kind who knows he's good enough, who knows he's not going to be rejected or shut down. But even if I wasn't gay, I will never be that kind of guy. It's not in my nature. I'm not assertive or domineering. I smile, wave, and make pastry. That's my nature. I slip by in this hyper masculine world by being too small for anyone to see as a threat. And for the most part, it works. The kitchens still shine like the day they were installed, which wasn't that long ago. Most kitchens are crowded, starkly lit places where you can barely move an inch without bumping into someone or knocking something over, but not this one. Natural light pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows, treating us to a view of London that millions of people would kill for. But I'm not here for the views. Okay, maybe a little bit. But mostly, I'm here to do my job. I find my little corner and start preparing for the day’s guests. It's a Sunday, so we're expecting a lot of traffic. There isn’t an overpaid banker in London who doesn’t salivate over the idea of lunch at the Shard. Russian oligarchs, Saudi oil barons, British royalty, Colombian drug lords - we serve them all. I don’t care who they are or what they do. It's none of my business. It sounds like a simple, boring job - making pastry. You’d be surprised at how much there is to it. There’s a reason they have pastry chefs – this is a difficult thing to get right. It's always come easily to me. I find something calming about rolling out a sheet of puff, spreading on the butter, folding it over, and rolling it out again. There's a rhythm to it. My movements soon become mechanical and I can feel myself floating away into a distant world where I'm someone interesting, somewhere interesting, doing something interesting. The kitchen hums around me as the first orders come in. Pans clink, hobs fizzle, water gurgles as it boils. I can barely hear the orders being barked over it all. But I'm not really paying attention. Boom. I can feel a wave of pressure pass through my feet, up to my head, and down again. Everything is shaking; the walls, the floor, the windows. Pots rattle above my head on their hooks. I turn to see the kitchen staff frozen, eyeing one another with pointed glares. I don't think I've ever seen this room so quiet. “What was that?” I hear one of them whisper, his voice carrying clear across the room. No one answers. Was it an earthquake? It couldn’t be. Earthquakes aren’t instantaneous, they're gradual. Then it comes again, much louder. BOOM. I don’t know if it's the ringing in my ears or the shaking beneath my feat, but I'm suddenly hunched over a table, flour covering my hands, gasping for breath. I don't know how long I spend there, trying to comprehend what's going on. It must be a minute or two, at least. My daze is broken as an alarm whirrs into life, high pitched and screaming. Red lights flash. All at once, the shock turns to chaos. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. They're coming faster now, from all over the building. I can feel them in my bones. While others run for the doors, I huddled under my table. What the hell is going on? My eyes drift to the windows, where black smoke is billowing up past our floor, carrying dust and paper. Fuck. I watched 9/11 unfold on live TV and I was here when they locked down London during the 7/7 attacks. It's impossible to ignore the reality of what's going on. This is a terrorist attack. I can see dark shapes floating past outside, just beyond the smoke. Choppers. News choppers. When I had dreamed of appearing on TV, I was thinking more along the lines of Deal or No Deal, not this. Anything but this. I'm now alone in the kitchen. I don't know when that happened. I presume everyone else has fled. My gaze flickers to the open door as I try to decide what to do. Maybe if I run now, I could get out before the building collapses. Or maybe the lower floors are experiencing the worst of it, and I'm best waiting up here while the blaze is brought under control. Is there anything here I could turn into a parachute? No, I scold myself. That’s pointless and stupid. I’d never break through those windows anyway. Turning on my phone, I check the BBC. The first result is a live video of the Shard, burning in a dozen places. The news anchors are speaking but I can’t hear a word of it. I watch the screen in horror as the fire begins to creep outward from the explosion sites. One of them is pretty close to this kitchen. Placing my hands on the ground, I feel warmth. There’s a rumbling sensation. Something is crackling not far from our door. As fast as I can, I slam it shut, backing away with a hiss as the handle burns my skin, leaving it red and blotchy. Now there’s smoke trickling in through the vents and the air is getting hazy. Pulling a wet cloth over my mouth, I run around the kitchen and turn on all the taps and block all the drains. They overflow one by one, spilling out onto the floor until there’s a pool of water an inch deep. This won’t save me, but it might slow the spread. It’s getting seriously hot in here. I clutch my burned hands around the wet cloth, which eases the pain, but nothing can stop the coughing fits. There’s soot clogging my lungs and in my eyes, causing them to water uncontrollably. The air is so thick now that I can barely see from one end of the room to the other. My only sign that the door has buckled is the red tongues of flame licking at the ceiling. At the same time, I’m hit by a wave of heat so overwhelming that my only option is to curl up on the floor and cover my face as I feel the skin of my back start to blister. Then something astonishing happens. Something so unusual that I wonder if I’m hallucinating. There's a silhouette visible through the smoke. A man. He's enormous, and seems completely unphased by the fire caressing every inch of his body. His eyes find me on the floor, and a look of relief flits across his face. I blink, and he’s suddenly leaning over me. How did he move so fast? I open my mouth to ask, but only a ragged cough comes out. Two huge arms gently scoop me up. I press my face into his chest to escape the heat. Somehow even in the middle of a burning skyscraper, his touch makes me feel safe. Protected. Isn’t that strange? I hear the sound of shattering glass, feel a rush of cold air on my neck. The arms wrap more tightly around me. The lurching in my stomach tells me we’re moving, and I try to look around, but one hand on the back of my head keeps me locked to his chest. As the adrenaline fades, my body starts to scream in pain. I’ve never felt such agony. It’s only a matter of time before blackness is creeping into my vision, clouding my mind. And then I’m gone.

Hey this is my first attempt Please note this story contains snuff and if you are offended or it is not for you please do not read! Intro The evening sky was painted in hues of deep orange and purple as Troy left the gym, his muscles pumped and glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. Every step he took showcased the power and grace of his massive physique. He was dressed in a tight black tank top that clung to his chest and shoulders, tight like a second skin, highlighting the deep cuts and striations of his pectorals and traps. His arms, thick as tree trunks, were a spectacle of bulging veins and pronounced muscle fibres, leaving no doubt about the strength they held. Troy’s tank top, soaked with sweat, clung to his torso, revealing the chiseled perfection of his eight-pack abs, each muscle sharply defined from hours of intense training. His shorts were equally revealing, hugging his powerful quads and hamstrings, which rippled with every movement. The tight fabric did nothing to hide the sheer size and strength of his legs, which seemed capable of crushing anything that dared to challenge them. His presence was commanding, almost overwhelming. Troy's towering height and broad shoulders cast a long shadow in the dimming light, and his entire demeanor exuded an air of supreme confidence and dominance. People in the parking lot couldn’t help but steal glances, their gazes filled with a mix of admiration and intimidation. The powerful growl of his motorcycle echoed through the parking lot as he swung his leg over, straddling the beast with practiced ease. The leather seat seemed almost too small for his expansive frame, but he fit perfectly, a titan in complete control. The engine roared to life, the sound a deep, resonant growl that matched Troy’s own intensity. He revved the throttle, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline as the machine responded to his command. As he sped off into the fading light, the cool evening air brushed against his skin, mixing with the lingering warmth of his post-workout pump. Every muscle in his body thrummed with energy, the blood coursing through his veins amplifying the feeling of invincibility. Troy was a living embodiment of power and discipline, a force of nature on two wheels, leaving an indelible impression on anyone who witnessed his departure. The wind whipped past him, and for a moment, Troy revelled in the freedom, the raw power between his legs matching the strength within him. The city streets blurred as he navigated with precision, his mind still lingering on the intense workout he had just conquered. Every muscle in his body thrummed with energy, and he felt unstoppable. Approaching a red light, he slowed down to 5mph drifting closer, not wanting to stop, as the light turned green with a snap troy was doing 50mph speeding through the traffic lights. Flashing red and blue lights cut through the twilight, snapping him back to reality. A police cruiser pulled up behind him, sirens wailing, signaling him to pull over. Troy smirked to himself, feeling a thrill run through his veins. He eased his bike to the side of the road, the engine rumbling softly as he came to a stop. The officer approached with a stride that tried to convey confidence, attempting to assert his authority in the dimly lit street. But as he neared the figure seated on the motorcycle, illuminated by the stark glow of the cruiser’s headlights, his steps faltered. Troy, whose massive back commanded immediate attention. Even beneath the tight confines of a black tank top, each muscle group was distinct, the fabric stretching taut across his broad lats that flared out like the wings of a powerful bird. The olive tone of his skin contrasted sharply against the black material, emphasizing the expansive width and the dense, sculpted valleys of muscle. The tank top itself seemed to battle to contain him, particularly around the lats, which stretched the fabric to its limits. The spaghetti straps of the tank clung precariously over his mountainous traps, which merged almost seamlessly into his neck, creating a formidable column of muscle that made his head seem like a natural extension of his upper body. His delts were so rounded and pronounced that they resembled perfectly inflated balloons, straining under his skin with every slight movement he made. The officer had encountered muscular individuals before, but Troy’s sheer size and the sculptural quality of his back were unlike anything he had ever seen. This wasn't just muscle, this was a fucking Beast. troy raised the visor of his helmet and watched the cop in the bikes mirrors. As the cop started to approach again, His hands trembled slightly, and his eyes flickered with uncertainty as they traced the contours of a true tank of muscle seated on the bike. With every step closer, the officer's confidence seemed to waver, increasingly intimidated by Troy’s towering and formidable stature. “License and registration,” the cop demanded, his voice firm but lacking the confidence to back it up. There was a crack in his tone, betraying the fear bubbling beneath his professional facade. Glancing at the officer’s name badge. The surname was unmistakable—Harrington. A cruel smile spread across Troy’s face as he remembered Pete Harrington, one of his high school tormentors, looking at the cops face, Troy knew it was the same guy. Recognizing the opportunity for some long-awaited payback, Troy decided this encounter was going to be a lot more fun than he initially thought. Troy pulled off his helmet slowly, letting his piercing gaze lock onto the officer's eyes. His sharp blue eyes bore into the cop’s soul, reducing him to a quivering mess with just a look. his silence and the intensity of his stare doing more to communicate than any words could. The cop shifted uncomfortably under Troy’s scrutiny, a bead of sweat forming at his temple and slowly trickling down his cheek. Troy reveled in the sight before him, the cop, once so determined to assert his authority, was now reduced to a quivering mess. The officer’s trembling hands and sweat-dappled forehead were a testament to the intimidating mass Troy wielded effortlessly. He felt a surge of excitement, a primal thrill coursing through him as he watched the cop struggle to maintain composure. Troy knew his sheer size, his rippling muscles, and the intimidating tattoos snaking out his tank and down his right arm evoked a natural, almost instinctive, submissive response in people. It was a heavy mix of fear and awe, and Troy relished it. He enjoyed the way his presence could dominate a room, the way people instinctively shrank back, their eyes widening as they took in his formidable frame. The cop’s reaction was just another confirmation of his undeniable dominance, and Troy couldn’t help but feel a deep, almost visceral satisfaction in that moment. “D…D…Do you know how fast you were going?” the officer stammered, his voice faltering as he tried to regain control of the situation. Each word seemed to cost him more effort as he stared up at Troy, who dwarfed him by a significant margin, even still sitting on his bike Troy’s lips curled into a half-smile, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and disdain. “ Fast enough that you needed to play catch-up,” Troy replied, his deep voice laced with mocking disdain.. The officer bristled, standing a little straighter, trying to assert his authority. “You need to slow down. This isn’t a race track. I’m going to have to write you a ticket.” Troy's smirk widened as he dismounted his bike, his movements slow and deliberate, showcasing his pumped muscles that strained against his clothing. His feet hit the ground with a solid thud, and he straightened up to his full height, towering over the officer. The cop instinctively took a step back, eyes wide as he took in the sheer size difference between them. Troy at 5’11 but with the mass on his frame made the cop at only 5’9 feel even smaller. Troy advanced a step, his broad chest nearly brushing against the officer's. He could see the panic rising in the cop’s eyes, the young man clearly struggling to maintain his composure. Troy's muscles, still swollen from his intense workout, seemed almost to pulsate with raw power, every sinew and vein clearly defined and on display. “You sure you want to write that ticket?” Troy asked, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down the cop’s spine. He flexed his arm slightly, the muscle bulging impressively, and watched as the cop’s eyes flickered nervously to the massive bicep and then back to Troy’s face. The officer’s hand hovered near his weapon, his fear palpable. He looked like he was considering drawing it, but Troy’s menacing presence made him hesitate. “Don’t even think about it,” Troy warned, his tone icy. “I’d break you in half before you could even touch that gun.” The cop’s hand hovered over his holster, his fingers twitching with indecision. Troy’s warning echoed in his mind, but he tried to muster up the remnants of his authority. "I’m a pppolice officer," he stammered, his voice wavering. "Y…y…you can’t just—" Troy cut him off, his gaze piercing and unyielding. "You think that means anything to me?" he growled. "Badge or no badge, you’re still a weak little bitch. Now, go ahead, reach for that gun, and see what happens. I promise you won’t like the outcome." Troy with out braking his gaze rolled his traps, limbering up, ready, as he dared the cop to give him an excuse to use his power. The cop’s hand dropped to his side, trembling. He was visibly shaking now, his mind racing with the realization that he was completely outmatched. He could feel the heat radiating off Troy’s body, the raw, intimidating energy that seemed to surround him like an aura. Troy leaned in closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over the cop. "You really think that little badge gives you authority?" he sneered, flexing his bicep subtly, making the tattoos ripple across his skin. "Your power comes from a piece of metal pinned to your chest. Mine?" He pounded his fist into his palm, the impact echoing in the quiet night. "Mine comes from muscle, hard work, and the ability to break you without breaking a sweat." “Maybe... maybe we can handle this differently,” the cop stammered, trying to stay on the good side of this imposing figure. “There’s no need for trouble.” troy glared at the cop, eyes locked on each other, his face inches from the officer’s. “Smart move,” he said softly, his breath hot against the cop’s skin. “You don’t want to make things difficult for yourself? ” The officer nodded hastily, too scared to argue. “Y-yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. I don’t want any trouble.” Troy’s smirk widened. “Good choice. Now get back in your cruiser and forget you ever saw me!” Troy ordered staring down the cop. The cop, desperate to regain control, took a step forward and jabbed a finger into Troy’s chest, trying to shove him back. "Back off, now!" he barked, trying to sound authoritative but only succeeding in trembling slightly. Troy’s eyes darkened, a dangerous smile curving his lips. "Big mistake," he said softly. Taking a deep expanding his chest, pushing the cops finger back, the cops eyes widen as he felt the muscle turn from firm dense muscle tissue, into rock hard steel, the cop could feel all the blood drain from his face. Troy reached out and effortlessly lifted the officer by the collar, holding him in the air with one arm. The cop's eyes widened in terror as he watched Troy's arm muscles swell and bulge effortlessly with power. Troy smirked, thinking how light the cop felt, like lifting a sack of potatoes. The cop’s feet dangled helplessly, his eyes wide with fear and awe. He pulled the cop closer like a rag doll, flexing his free arm, show casing how light the cop felt to troy, and kissed the bicep right in the cops face. The cop couldn’t help but ”ohh fuck!” escaping his lips, at the sight of such entitled arrogance, making troy smirk, he pulled the cop in closer holding the small fragile man against his chest before wrapping one arm around him pinning the cops arms, as he held the cop against him, he whispered in the cops ear “next time you pull me over….it better be to suck my cock!” his massive bicep pressing against the officer's chest. He could feel the man's heart pounding wildly, his shallow breaths coming in rapid gasps. Troy's muscles, still pumped from his intense workout, felt like iron bands against the cop's much smaller, weaker frame. Holding the helpless officer close, Troy felt a pure power course through him. The contrast between his own immense strength and the cop's frailty was intoxicating. The man's fear was palpable, his body trembling as he struggled in vain against Troy's unyielding grip. It was exhilarating to feel such complete control, to know that this weaker man was utterly at his mercy. The cop's helplessness only amplified Troy's sense of superiority, feeding his vanity and aggression. as troy slowly flexed, wielding his power, he applied pressure to the officers chest, making it harder for the cop to breath, squeezing the cop, each time the cop breathed out a little, he struggled to fill any air back into his lungs, helpless to stop his assailant squeezing the air out of him. and then without warning, troy flexed his back swelling up like the head of a cobra, and wrapping round the cop like a compressor crushing on a car, Troy heard the sound of two ribs snapping under the power of his forearm. the cop cried out in pain, as the pressure on his chest was too much and his ribs gave out under the power of pure brutal strength. He could feel troys muscles against his own body, having never felt anything like it, troy felt like steel, and wielding a strength to match. Troy then threw the cop against the hood of his cruiser, tossed several feet like yesterdays rubbish, the agony of his ribs amplified from the impact, as he dropped to the floor trying to hold his ribs protect them, he could see the shadowy silloette of Troy looking down on him , the darkness only enhancing the fear and dread the cop could feel. Then troy turned and mounted his bike, and out into the night

THE SEAN SAGA - PART 1: Little Brother No More by hungmusclegod(discord) / SeanTheHungMuscleGod (musclegrowth.net) (inspired by by Matt’s legendary HSMuscleboy drawings) There are regular guys, and then there dudes who are on a whole other level, like, supercharged men. Some are towering giants, perfect for slam-dunking on the basketball court. Others are like human tanks with exceptional strength, dominating in weightlifting and strongman competitions. Some are mass monsters, flexing their huge muscles on bodybuilding stages. And then there are the ones endowed with giant dongs, turning heads in the porn industry. Some of these dudes lucked out with killer genetics, while others are driven by a hunger for power, that makes them train like maniacs. And then, there are the ones that have all the above and more. Genetic freaks of nature with an insatiable hunger for power. The epitome of alpha masculinity, possessing strength, stamina, size, muscularity, and endowment that is in a league of its own: Hyperstuds. This is one of their stories. Chapter 1: Returning to Norway It was the first day of May, and I was fucking excited, as Sarah and I hopped on the plane to Norway. I was finally heading back to see my family after spending two years at Muskel-Akademie - europe’s most prestigious Alpha-college the biggest, strongest, and most alpha Hyperstuds and Muscle-Chicks. My girlfriend, Sarah, was a junior there too and one of the most popular muscle chicks there. I knew she was itching to meet my family, especially my legendary father, Magnus Thorson. I’m Billy Thorson, the second oldest of the three Thorson brothers, and yeah, my family has a rep at Muskel-Akademie. My dad Magnus - a former student of Muskel-Akademie himself - had been the longest reigning Musclegod in history, having won the World-Musclegod-Contest 10 consecutive times before retiring undefeated at the age of 37. As the plane lifted off, Sarah snuggled up against my hulking frame, her arm draped around my massive 33-inch bicep, her fingers teasing the fucking massive bulge in my joggers. I was packing a fucking monster, a 12-inch softy that thanks to my Thorson-genes was also fucking thick, measuring 8 inches around when soft. I had the biggest cock of all the juniors at Muskel-Akademie, and my sizequeen girlfriend was fucking addicted to it. Standing 6'2” tall and weighing 300 pounds of pure muscle, Sarah was a little muscle-goddess herself, juicy 44-inch tits and 22-inch biceps that could make any guy weak in the knees, but next to my towering 6’8 and 600lbs, she was like a perfect little doll. As the plane roared into the skies, Sarah’s hand moved under the waistband of my joggers, mmassaging my massive bulge, making me growl softly in her ear, as she moaned just from touching my giant monster, Just then, a flight attendant appeared, staring wide-eyed at my gigantic bulging muscle chest, my shredded guns and the obscenely large throbbing bulge in my joggers. “Uh, Ehm…. fuuuuuck, uhh sir, ma'am, I’m sorry, uuuuh, but you’ve got to, eh…, tone it down” she said, struggling to get her moaning words out. Sarah looked up at her, playfully squeezed my ginormous bulge, and giggled. The poor stewardess gulped, clearly losing her grip on professionalism as her eyes danced along my massive arms. Then an ear-shattering moan escaped her lips, she spun on her heel and ran into the nearby toilet cabin. The door was shut fast, and we could hear her moaning and orgasming. Sarah and I burst out laughing. "What's up with her?" I laughed despite knowing the answer. But I wanted Sarah to say it. "Babe, you're just too hot, your massive muscles too distracting, and your cock's way too huge for normal girls to handle, Sarah giggled, and kept massaging my massive dick. "It's almost too big for me." She added admiringly as she freed my giant cock out of my joggers, then she leaned she took the giant cock head in her mouth and started sucking me off, while the people around us stared wide-eyed and open-jawed at the sight and began to moan and orgasm. Chapter 2: Arriving home The plane finally touched down in Norway. Sarah and I hopped in a cab and headed straight for my hometown, a small town at the coast of Norway. I couldn’t wait to see my dad, and show him how much I had grown and how much stronger I had become. I was the biggest junior at school now, after all. The cab finally pulled up to the Thorson residence, and as we stepped out, I saw a giant of a man already waiting at the entrance of the house. It was my Dad, Magnus Thorson, the legendary Musclegod. At 7'4" tall and 900lbs of muscle mass, my father was a sight to behold. Now being 45, his muscles were no longer as shredded as they’d been in his prime, but he still had that gigantic godly size and that aura of absolute power and hyper-masculinity that was impossible to ignore. His ginormous arms measured 45 inches around, and his chest looked like it belonged to the uber-God of the Greek gods. Sarah’s jaw dropped and she starred open-mouthed at my father, breathing hard, and I could tell she was instantly turned on. My dad just grinned at her. He was used to frying people brains with the sight of his body. „Hey Billy! Damn, look at you, have you grown?“ he laughed and gave me a hug that almost crushed me, despite him holding back his strength. "Uhhhh fuck, Dad! Yeah, great to be back" I said, barely able to breath inside his crushing hug. He let go of me and looked down at Sarah. "You must be the girlfriend" his deep voice rumbled, his piercing green eyes sparkling, his smile showing off his perfect white teeth and forming deep dimples on his square jawed, dirty-blonde bearded, hyper-masculine face. Sarah just stared at him wide-eyed, open-mouthed, moaning hard, before fainting in his arms. My father chuckled and held her with ease in one of his giant arms. "Aw shit, Dad, fuck, look at you, fuuuuck, you're something else" I said admiringly and added: "I hope, she'll get used to you after a day or two." My father just nodded, looked down at me and said: "The house is kinda crowded for Sean’s birthday party, I’ll put your girlfriend with your Sister in her room, you’ll have to sleep in Sean’s room.“ „Why can’t I sleep in my room?“ I asked. „Occupied“ me father simply replied. "Why can't I share a room with Sarah then, and my sister sleeps in Sean's room?" I asked annoyed. "You know how much of a size queen and sex addict your sister is" my dad Magnus replied. "Yeah? How's that a problem though?" I asked confused. "Oh yeah, you haven't seen your little brother in almost two years. I forgot. It's a fucking struggle to keep your sister away from him“ Magnus said, shaking his head. "Where's Sean anyway?" I asked, confused. "It's his 18th birthday today. He's out, partying with friends. He'll be back tonight, hopefully, for his family party tomorrow." I walked inside the house and then Sean’s room, surprised to see my old bed standing there as well, and fell onto it. I was so exhausted, that I fell asleep right away, and slept so deeply, that I didn't even notice Sean returning home from partying with his friends. That is, until he crushed into the room and collapsed onto his bed with a loud thud. The bed screeched, and I could have sworn, I heard the sound of bending and splintering steel. But thought nothing of it and turned around, falling asleep again.

Here's a short story I wrote about a super-strong guy and his friend. No sex. I just wanted to focus on the super-strength feats of this guy. I added a few illustrations to help you visualize it. I hope you enjoy it. I have a couple more chapters. If anyone is interested, I can post them too. bb My Friend Pete — Chapter 1 I’ve known Pete for as long as I can remember. We grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same school, hung out after school…we pretty much did everything together. We were both athletic, so we spent a lot of time playing sports, any kind of sports, it didn’t matter. Pete was a natural and usually beat me when we went one on one. He was a nice guy though, and he never made me feel bad, even when he handily slammed my hand to the table while arm wrestling, which happened often. Everyone liked Pete and Pete liked everyone, almost. The only ones who Pete didn’t like were the bullies. He really hated it when he saw someone picking on a smaller kid, but unlike most kids, he did something about it. Even in grammar school he would teach the older kids a lesson if he saw them giving a smaller kid a hard time. The bullies quickly learned to avoid him or get the crap kicked out of them. I said he was athletic, but did I mention he was strong too. He had no problem lifting heavy objects and could beat anyone in any test of strength, even the older kids. I’ve always known he was strong, but I didn’t know just how strong he was. I mean he could beat up anyone in our school if someone was foolish enough to pick a fight with him, but it always looked like he was just a little stronger than his opponent. But more about this later. When we got to high school we both went out for wrestling. Lucky for me, I was in different weight classes; otherwise I would always be second place. Even as a freshman, I could beat anyone else on the wrestling team, except Pete. He was in a league of his own. Between the two of us, we carried our team to the state championships four years in a row. Pete was average size for his age, but even when he was young he was solid muscle. As he grew older he developed a lean athletic physique, not huge like a bodybuilder, but more like a gymnast or a physique model. He sported a solid 8-pack, well defined legs, nice peaked biceps and one of the most perfectly shaped triceps I’ve ever seen. His thick pecs were balanced by his rounded delts and his lats gave him that V-shape that says “this guy’s in shape.” I was fairly well built myself. I was a few inches taller than Pete and had about 30 pounds on him, but was not as ripped and definitely not as strong. Now here we are, starting our freshman year in college and we are still best friends. We are roommates of course, and work out together in the gym. He would push me to lift more than my previous best, but then lift just a little bit more than me. It was frustrating at times, since it seemed like I could never catch up to him, no matter how hard I tried. But as I said, he never rubbed it in, just encouraged me to keep working at it. As I said, I always knew he was strong, but I guess I never realized just how strong he was, until I saw something I still have trouble believing. We were working out late one night. There was one other guy in the gym, a big bodybuilder lifting some serious weights, when I heard this loud crash. Pete and I looked over to see that one of the machines broke loose from the wall and fell on top of him. He was lying there, unconscious under hundreds of pounds of weights and the twisted metal frame of the machine. Pete ran over and lifted the entire machine, weights and all, up and off the guy. I was staring at this in awe, unable to move, until Pete yelled at me to pull him out. That snapped me out of it and I dragged him out from under the mess. Once the still unconscious bodybuilder was clear of the mess, Pete let it back down. He then called 911 while I was still standing there in shock and disbelief. I’d heard of people performing incredible feats of strength when faced with life and death situations, but I never thought I would see it in real life. While we were waiting for the paramedics to arrive, Pete told me not to say anything about him lifting the machine and he would explain it to me later. We agreed to say the machine knocked him out but we were able to slide him out from under it. Everyone believed it, since no one would expect that the two of us, let alone one of us, could have lifted it off the guy. When we got back to our dorm, I confronted him, “What the hell dude!? How did you lift all that weight?” Pete sat me down and explained, “I’ve always been super strong. I always held back so no one would think I was a freak or be afraid of me. Haven’t you noticed that I’ve always been just a little bit stronger than my opponent? No matter how big or strong they were?” I thought for a moment, “Hmm, now that you mention it. I guess that was a bit strange. So how did you get so strong?” “I don’t know. Even as a toddler I was strong. As I grew up I tested myself when no one was around and as I got older, I kept getting stronger. I haven’t found something I couldn’t lift in quite a while. You gotta promise me not to tell anyone. OK? If it got out just how strong I am, I’d probably end up in some lab undergoing test after test. I don’t want to be some guinea pig. Promise me, OK!” “I promise I won’t tell anyone. Dude, we’ve been friends forever. I’d do anything for you. You know that. Your secret’s safe with me.” “Thanks pal. Uh, this isn’t going to change anything between us, is it? I mean you’re my best friend and I don’t want that to change. You’re not freaked out or afraid of me are you?” I responded, “Freaked out…maybe a little. No maybe a lot. But afraid of you? Hell no! Face it, if you were going to hurt me, you had plenty of opportunities to do it by now. No Dude, we’re good.” After a short pause I added, “So Pete, just how strong are you?” “Well, you saw me lift that weight machine. I can lift a lot more than that. Watch this.” Pete then grabbed one leg of the bed I was sitting on and lifted it and me with one hand. I could see the muscles in his arm and chest tense as he lifted. His biceps jumped up into a solid ball and the muscles on his forearm were writhing like snakes, but he wasn’t even struggling. Later that week we went to an old junk yard that was no longer in use, but still had some old wrecks. I really wanted to see just how strong he was. When we got there the gate was locked, but with a twist of his wrist, he broke the heavy duty padlock off like it was a piece of plastic. The place was littered with wrecks and a smell of motor oil permeated the air. We looked around and I saw the back of a cement truck lying on its side. Pointing at the truck I said, “Ok Herc, let’s see you lift that.” “You got it!” He pulled off his shirt, revealing his ripped muscular torso. He walked over to the truck, sized it up, and positioned himself on the side of the mixer part and began pushing it. His triceps bulged out from his arms and his delts looked like they were going to explode. At first his feet began to sink into the ground, but then he found his footing and the huge cement mixer moved up until the truck rolled over onto what was left of its wheels. “No dude. I said lift it.” “Cool it, Jack. I’m getting to that.” He then grabbed the back of the truck and curled it a couple of times. His biceps bulged into huge round, hard balls of muscle with each rep. He then lifted it above his head showing the horseshoe shape of his flexed triceps. He then walked to the center of the truck, squatted down to balance it above his head and lifted it off the ground. Every muscle in his body was rippling and bulging, creating an incredible display as he held this truck above his head. Then to show off a bit, he presses the truck for ten reps before tossing it aside with a loud crash. “Holy shit, dude! That was insane!” Pete gave me a shit-eating grin and said, “But wait, there’s more!” We then walked over to a pile of steel bars and pipes. He sifted through the pile until he found a bar about 1 inch thick, 2 inches wide, and 3 feet long. He grabbed hold of it with his hands about 2 feet apart and held it in front of him. He looked like he was using one of those spring loaded chest exercisers, but this was no spring. His chest and arms suddenly tensed, showing striations of each of the muscles of his chest and arms. As the bar started to bend his chest began to swell and his arms were bulging with muscles I didn’t know existed. In less than a minute the bar was bent into a U shape. He then places his palms on the outside and flexed his chest. His pecs popped out even further and the striations were insane, as he pressed the two ends together. When he was done he handed me the bar. It was heavy and solid. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t bend it at all. What was even more amazing is you could see the indentation of his fingers in the bar where he gripped it. “So, what do you think? Have you seen enough to convince you?” I replied, “What, are you kidding. I want to see more. What else can you do?” Pete looked around and spotted a big chunk of concrete, about the size of a small file cabinet. He went over and picked it up easily, even though it must have weighed about 700 pounds! Although, I shouldn’t have been surprised, after seeing him lift that cement truck. He then wrapped his arms around it as if he was going to bear hug it, and began to squeeze. Again his muscles tensed and began to swell until I heard this cracking sound. At first a few chips of concrete fell from around his arms and then it broke in half. Two large chunks and lots of smaller pieces fell to the ground. I stood there in awe, with my mouth hanging open. Pete then said, “Now watch this,” as he picked up one of the pieces about the size of a baseball. He held it in one hand and squeezed it. The muscles in his forearm looked like living cables, moving and bulging as he squeezed, until the chunk was crushed into powder. He then looked around a spotted a length of tow chain lying on the ground. He picked it up and wrapped it around his upper arm twice. He then held the ends in his other hand, clamping the chain tight around his extended upper arm. With a smile he slowly bent his arm at the elbow. I could see his biceps pushing against the doubled up chain. As he continued to flex his biceps I could see the links stretching until one could no longer hold on and the chain snapped. “Ok, that’s enough for tonight.” Pete said, “I have an exam in the morning that I don’t want to blow.” I reluctantly agreed and we headed back to the dorm. I was up half the night thinking about the power that it took to perform those feats. All these years I knew he was strong, but I never dreamed he was that strong. My best friend and roommate was a real live superman!

Long time lurker here, save for occasionally posting in the AI pictures threads - although these days I tend to keep that to X and DeviantArt. Anyway, my first and greatest love on this forum is the muscle growth stories section, so I thought I would try writing my own. I am pleased that I actually managed to finish it (I've started and abandoned several muscle growth stories). Maybe I'll try to do another one at some point. I should also point out that there's been no AI involved in this one - it's 100% the product of my own (horny) brain. Enjoy! Breaking A Colt The letter on Danny’s desk read as follows: “Dear Dr Myerson, I hope you do not mind me writing to you, but I am praying you can help me where no one else can. I am deeply concerned for my son, Colton Walker. I understand that you are a world expert in hyperpuberty, that you have helped families who have suffered with it, even managed to cure it. I hope you can do the same with my son. Colt is eighteen. He was always such a nice boy, so very polite and really rather timid up until a few months ago. Then the curse of hyperpuberty struck, and now he is just a completely different person. He used to be such a small, slim boy, but in the course of about two months, he put on over 500 pounds of muscle. He is an absolute terror and his strength is horrifying; he breaks solid wooden and metal furniture as easily as I might crush a paper cup. Almost none of his clothes fit, but he says he does not care and wants people to see as much of his body as possible. He seems to enjoy it all so much, it is obscene. I hope you will forgive the vulgarity of me saying this, but it is not just his muscles that have grown to freakish proportions. His manhood is abnormally large too, and he just does not seem to care who sees it – it is shameful! In fact, it really is a bigger problem than anything else. Ever since hyperpuberty hit, all Colt seems interested in are muscles and sex. I am getting complaints from other parents at his college: I am aware that he has got 27 girls pregnant in the last month alone, and heaven knows how many other girls (and boys, if even a tenth of what I hear is true!) he is having relations with. Please, please, please Dr Myerson, use your expertise and help my son manage his condition – and, if you can, turn him back the way he was. Yours sincerely, Mary Walker” Well, with a letter like that, it was only natural that Danny would want to help the poor boy. He drummed his fingers on the desk, lost in thought. If there was an expert on hyperpuberty, he guessed it was probably him. It had been about five years since the phenomenon had emerged: a second ‘puberty’, hitting males in their late teens and affecting about 0.01% of the population, during which the teen would rapidly put on masses of muscle that would once have been well beyond natural human limits, and with that muscle mass came extreme strength, extreme stamina and a massively heighted sexual capacity. And, he thought wryly, a certain sense of superiority. After all, what cocky teen wouldn’t feel superior being able to bench-press a car before fucking the entire cheerleading team senseless? Since the emergence of hyperpuberty, some people had started to study it academically, and Danny Myerson’s PhD thesis had been one of the first written on the subject. Since then, he had acquired more than a dozen ‘patients’ – but he was always keen for more, so his response to Mrs Walker had been polite, enthusiastic and encouraging. It had been followed by a phone call, and a promise from the worried mother that she would try to persuade her son (on the grounds that it was now impossible to try to force him to do anything he didn’t want to) to pay him a visit this morning. Danny’s desk was in the corner of a massive space – his office/lab/gym was an old, dilapidated former aircraft hangar on a closed airfield. The roof had a tendency to leak like hell when it rained, but the rent was cheap, the place was private, and there was plenty of space. As well as an ‘office area’ and a modest ‘laboratory’ area, there were a number of items of heavily-modified gym equipment that Danny had collected especially for men with hyperpuberty. Collecting data was so important... “Are you Dr Myerson?” came a voice from over by the hangar door, breaking Danny’s reflections. Ah, he thought, this must be Colton Walker. “Yup! Come on in!” And in walked the teenager. Yes, thought Danny, absolutely a case of hyperpuberty. Colton had a handsome and still somewhat boyish face, with piercing blue eyes, a confident smirk and tousled dark blond hair. There was absolutely nothing boyish, however, about everything he had below his face. Standing at six feet six inches tall, and nearly as wide across, his thick, bull-like neck emerged from towering, massively muscular shoulders. He was wearing a tanktop, the front of which was pushed out by his insanely huge, boulder-like pectorals. The garment seemed to have been chosen to display as much of his striated, bulging cleavage as possible, as his pectoral shelf protruded nearly a foot out from his chest; the material was tight across his body, his nipples clearly visible, and Danny could see the outlines of thick veins too. If the material of the tanktop was straining against Colton’s pecs, it was similarly tight against his inhumanly massive abs, showing the clear definition of eight enormous, cobblestone-like boulders. At his side swung two immensely swollen, hypermuscled arms: even unflexed, each arm was thicker than a normal man’s waist, and bulging with thick veins. Colton wore a pair of baggy tracksuit bottoms – well, they would have been baggy on a normal man, but for him they were strained almost to tearing point by his vast thighs, whose insane definition was clearly visible under the tight material as he walked into the hangar. Finally, Danny’s eye could not help but be drawn to the massive bulge at his crotch, the material of the tracksuit bottoms stretched and distended by the sheer size of Colton’s massive manhood. Colton was, quite simply, a living demigod. Even by the usual accepted standards of hyperpuberty, this was one of the most developed cases Danny had seen. This would be a challenge, he thought, and he felt his cock harden slightly in anticipation. “Welcome, Mr Walker, a pleasure to meet you,” said Danny with a warm smile. “Call me Colt,” said the enormous teen, “everyone does. Look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy and all, and very clever, but I’m only here because my mom wouldn’t stop complaining. I don’t want to be ‘cured’ or to have my condition ‘managed’ – these muscles are fucking awesome, and I am not going to let anyone take them from me.” As if to emphasise his point, Colt loomed over Danny, glaring down over the shelf of his pecs with more than a touch of threat. There was a hint of contempt in his expression: Danny, though quite handsome in a twink-ish sort of way, was only average height and had a slender build. Colt looked like he weighed at least four times as much as him. “Don’t worry, Colt, you’re perfectly safe with me,” said Danny reassuringly, “nothing will happen unless you want it to, I promise.” Colt backed away a bit, but his expression was still guarded. “I thought you were supposed to be some sort of super world-class expert? You don’t look much older than me, Dr Myerson.” Danny conceded that he didn’t look much like an expert, clad as he was in a t-shirt and jeans. “I’m twenty-three, which I’ll admit is young for an academic, but I really am an expert,” smiled Danny, “and I really am very, very clever. And please, call me Danny.” “Ok, Danny, fine, let’s do this. What do you want me to do first?” “Ok, well I think we should get some essential stats. First, let’s get you weighed...” “682 pounds,” interrupted Colt, pride and arrogance suffusing his voice, “or nearly 49 stone, if you prefer. Two months ago I weighed 173 pounds.” Christ, thought Danny as he rubbed a hand through his sandy hair, he’s really getting off on all his muscle. Not that he can be blamed for that... “That’s great, Colt, thank you. I’d like to take some photographs for my files, if that’s ok? Would you mind taking off your tanktop?” “Sure thing, Dr Danny,” said Colt mockingly. He didn’t bother to take the garment off; he simply grabbed the front and tore it off himself. His revealed muscles were as incredible as Danny had imagined they would be: insanely huge and hyperdefined, with thick veins pumping immense strength and power into them. He struck a powerful double bicep pose, his mighty arms throbbing into giant peaks each nearly as large as a normal man’s chest. “Yeah, you like the gunshow, Doc?” he said. “You want me to take off my pants too?” “Yes, that would...” “Watch this!” shouted Colt, interrupting. Putting his hands on hips, he flexed his monstrous thighs and, sure enough, with a loud tearing sound the material of each leg tore open, unable to contain the sheer size and power of his legs. Thicker than a telegraph pole and loaded with all-powerful muscle, they were an incredible sight. Colt tore the remains away, leaving him naked except for a hugely over-stuffed jockstrap that was trying – and failing – to contain the enormity of his cock, the base of the shaft clearly visible where it pushed away the material, the rest bulging with obscene size. If this was him flaccid, what was he like erect? “Want me to take off the jockstrap too?” “No, thank you, Colt, not for now,” said Danny. Colt didn’t seem to pick up on the insinuation that he might be asked to remove it later. At Danny’s direction, Colt stood in a clear area of hangar, doing pose after pose whilst Danny took pictures. Colt was clearly having fun, enjoying the attention and the thrill of being so strong. Danny was enjoying himself to: working with teens who had gone through hyperpuberty was always a rewarding experience. “Heh, I can tell you’re enjoying yourself,” said Colt. Danny raised an eyebrow, and the teen looked pointedly at the bulge in Danny’s pants. “I guess you really like muscles, Doc? You getting off on photographing me? I guess I can’t blame you when I’m so goddamn strong and sexy!” “Yeah, you caught me,” said Danny wryly. “Watching you has given me one hell of a hard-on. Take it as a compliment.” “Maybe later I’ll show you my hard-on, you can see what a REAL man looks like! Bet I could make you cum without even touching yourself.” “Perhaps,” said Danny, “but don’t forget, I’ve worked with loads of guys with hyperpuberty. You’d be amazed at the things I’ve seen and done. And for now, I’m not even sure you’re the biggest and strongest guy I’ve seen...” That got Colt’s attention. “I bet I am!” he shouted, “I’m a fucking beast, and don’t you forget it. I’ve searched on the net for others with hyperpuberty, and I reckon there’s no one out there that comes near my strength.” How wrong you are, thought Danny. “Well,” he said, “let’s put that theory to the test – it’s time to see how much you can bench press.” He indicated some machinery over in the gym area, and Colt set off – giving Danny a perfect view of his mountainously muscled back, bulging with strength, and his insanely muscled ass that swayed seductively as he walked. “This machine? What is it?” asked Colt. The machine had a large bench, adapted for someone Colt’s size, and a thick bar above it, just like a typical bench press machine, but the ends of the bar went into a large apparatus that formed a huge arch over the bench. “It’s a specially adapted bench press. All this machinery can be used to set the weight for the bar, using a mixture of actual weights and simulated resistance. It can be set to any weight we want – up to 20,000 tons.” “20,000 tons?” said Colt, his amazement breaking his haughty demeanour for a moment. “That’s crazy. Really cool, but crazy.” “Yeah, well, let’s see what you can do, Colt. Do you think you could bench press one ton?” “Ha! Easy!” he smirked. Danny tapped a few buttons on a digital display, and there was a few seconds of whirring sounds from within the machine. Colt eagerly got on to the bench. Lying down, the obscene size of his pecs was even more noticeable. Danny made no secret of enjoying the view of Colt’s bulging muscles, not only his monster pecs but the insane abs that lead up to them – to say nothing of the way his pleasingly full jockstrap twitched and flexed as he got into position. Putting his hands on the bar, he slowly but smoothly pushed it upwards with perfect form, his pecs flexing sexily as they pushed a ton of weight up. One, two, three... Colt put out rep after rep, seemingly easily, though Danny noted he had stopped talking and there was a light sheen of sweat on his immense body. “Is this a bit too easy?” asked Danny, after counting twenty reps. “Shall I put it up to 1.5 tons? Are you up to the challenge?” “Yeah,” said Colt through gritted teeth, “do it.” When the bar came down, Danny typed the number into the machine and there were more noises from within. This time, Colt’s presses were even slower: the effort was visible on his face, but nevertheless he still managed to bench the enormous weight. His vast muscles pumped and strained with the effort, thick veins standing out prominently across his arms and chest as he benched one and a half tons. One... two... three... as Colt worked through the reps, Danny decided to encourage him. “Well done, Colt, keep going... 1.5 tons, that’s... what? 3,000 pounds? That’s got to be the weight of about 15 people! That’s amazing! They could never do what you can do, be as strong and powerful as you are! I bet all the guys are jealous of how massive you are!” Danny grinned as he saw his words were having the intended effect. As Colt’s reps got into double figures, he watched the teen’s massive manhood begin to flex and grow, the already straining material of his jockstrap being put under unstoppable pressure as his thick fuckpole hardened. With a tearing sound, Colt’s superhuman cock shredded the jockstrap, throbbing with power as it grew and grew. Twelve inches... fourteen inches... sixteen inches... Colt’s cock finally reached full hardness at a mind-blowing eighteen inches. His shaft was considerably thicker than a soda can, with thick veins all along it pumping blood and strength into it. His foreskin was fully retracted to show off his flared, angry cockhead, easily bigger in size than Danny’s entire fist, and as the shredded material fell away it revealed two massive, baseball-sized gonads. His whole monster penis throbbed eagerly, demanding release. “Dammit, Doc... you’re gonna regret getting me hard... ungh... when I blow my fuckin’ load... ungh... these weights feel great... like the first challenge I’ve had in weeks... ungh... I feel so fuckin’ pumped... twenty-eight... twenty-nine... THIRTY!” With a crash, Colt let the bar slam down and, in moments, was back up on his feet. The effect of his workout was evident: his muscles, pumped and swollen by lifting the massive weight, were visibly bigger. His whole body was suffused with bulging, hyperpowerful muscle, all of which was sending an intense feeling of unstoppable power straight to his godlike cock. “Uhh... yeah... I’m so fuckin’ powerful... I’m a fuckin’ god... ughn... I feel so strong... I AM ALL MUSCLE! ALL STRENGTH! ALL COCK!” With an animalistic roar, Colt flexed his entire body, his pecs bulging wildly to the size of massive rocks, his biceps exploding with raw size, his 8-pack abs shredded to hyperdefinition. Without even touching himself, his insane eighteen inch cock, diamond-hard and reaching almost to his pecs, simply exploded, huge ropes of thick, virile cum blasting from his angry cockhead, splattering noisily on the hangar floor many feet away. Colt’s whole body throbbed with the sheer power of his orgasm, that lasted for over a full minute. “Well, that was an impressive show,” said Danny as Colt’s orgasm finally subsided. He noted that the teen’s cock remained as big and hard as it had been before, as if he hadn’t just splattered what appeared to be several pints of seed over the gym area. “Damn straight,” said Colt, panting slightly but grinning proudly, “I’m impressing even myself. So, as I ain’t giving up any of this power, now that I’ve given you a show I’m gonna go. Maybe find myself a dozen hot bitches to bang, as that’s the only way my cock is getting soft again anytime soon.” “No, wait!” said Danny. “I told your mom I’d ‘help’ you. I didn’t say I’d ‘cure’ you or anything like that.” “Whaddaya mean, Doc?” “What if I could help you... get bigger?” That caught Colt’s attention. His gaze snapped round, his piercing eyes focusing straight on Danny. “Bigger? How much bigger?” said Colt. His voice was focused and controlled, but Danny noticed that his cock twitched eagerly, causing a large bead of cum to fall to the ground. “As big as your willpower is prepared to go,” said Danny. He stepped forward so that his face was only a few inches from Colt’s massive pecs. He rested his hand on Colt’s massive manhood, firmly stroking it as he spoke, and looking up into Colt’s eyes. “I have this theory – tested with success – that hyperpuberty just removes all your limits. You have complete control over the size and strength of your muscles. I can help you push forward as much as you want. So, Colt, the question is... just how strong do you want to be?” “I want to get bigger,” he growled, “so much bigger! Bigger than anyone has ever been, bigger than anyone could ever be! I’m nowhere near strong enough at the moment!” Danny’s own cock was rock hard, carried away by the teen’s sheer, uncontrolled muscle-lust. He couldn’t help but lean fractionally closer while Colt was talking, letting his lips and tongue caress Colt’s insanely massive pec. “You have to want it hard enough,” he said softly, “but the only limit is your own desire. Are you sure you want to do this?”. He could feel Colt’s cock throbbing eagerly under his hand. “Do it, Doc,” said the teen without hesitation, “do it now! Make me bigger!” “Close your eyes and focus intensely on my voice,” said Danny. “While I speak, only answer my direct questions – don’t interrupt otherwise. I’m going to be massaging your muscles and your manhood. For the moment, I just want you to take a few moments to relax, to clear your mind and just focus on your body.” As Colt closed his eyes, Danny glanced at the teen’s massive fuckpole. It was so large that, combined with Colt’s massive height, the Danny barely had to incline his head to bring his lips into contact with the enormous, flared cockhead. It was far too big for Danny to have any chance of getting his mouth around it, but he rolled his tongue over its broad expanse, teasing the piss-slit, tasting the salty-sweet remnants of Colt’s orgasm. Colt’s cock was impossibly hard and hot, and Danny could sense the teen’s near limitless virility. He had no doubt Colt could fuck for hours and hours at a time. Sucking on Colt’s cock wasn’t strictly necessary, but Danny knew it would help the teen focus on his body – and he wanted to, of course. As he licked and sucked, one hand stroked the massive length of his shaft whilst the other massaged Colt’s huge gonads. “Damn, Doc, you’re good at this,” mumbled Colt, his eyes closed, “if you keep it up I’m gonna blow a load down your throat.” “No talking, remember!” grinned Danny. Now that he had Colt’s attention, he released his cock and laid his hands on the teen’s bulging abs. As his fingers massaged Colt’s boulder-like eight-pack, he revelled in their insane size and hardness. His own cock was so damn hard, he was surprised he hadn’t jizzed himself yet. Soon, he thought, soon... “Focus on your muscles, Colt. Focus on their size. Focus on their strength,” Danny began to intone while he massaged Colt’s muscles, his voice a hypnotic drone. “Think of all your strength. Think of all your power. Think of how big and hard your cock is. How strong are you, Colt? Tell me.” “Ungh... I’m so fuckin’ strong... this power is so great... and I’m so fuckin’ horny all the time, thinking of all my muscles... yeah, I’m a super-strong super-stud,” he growled, his eyes closed. His cock throbbed visibly and eagerly. “Good, that’s good,” said Danny, his hands still kneading Colt’s abs. “Focus on your strength, your power, your virility. See it as light, see it as energy. A torrent of energy that fills your entire body. Can you see it?” “Yeah...” he breathed, “yeah... so much power... so much fuckin’ power.” “Excellent,” intoned Danny, his hands moving up to massage Colt’s enormous, bulging pecs. “That power is within your body, that’s all yours. But imagine there is more of that energy, so much more, an infinite amount, just behind you. You can feel the heat of it warming your back. Can you sense it?” There was a pause. Colt’s eyes were still closed, but the look of concentration on his face was unmistakable. “Yeah, I can... I can... fuck, there’s so much power there.” “And what you have already is just the merest drop of that ocean,” said Danny. “What if you could just reach out and take it? Imagine if all that strength, all that power was flowing through you. Do you want it? Or does it frighten you?” “I want... I want strength and power that will shake the Earth, that will cause everyone to bow down and worship me for the god that I am – and then, once they’ve done that, I want even more strength! More size! I don’t just want to be a god, I want to be a FUCKING COSMIC SUPER-GOD! NO STRENGTH WILL EVER BE ENOUGH! IF YOU CAN MAKE ME BIGGER, DOC, DO IT!!!” “Reach out, Colt! Reach out and take it! Take that power!” shouted Danny, giving Colt’s pecs a final hard squeeze before pulling back. “UHHNNN... YEAH! FUCK, IT’S AMAZING! SO... MUCH... FUCKING... POWER!!!” cried Colt, his voice noticeably deepening and his face suffused with ecstasy as his body embraced the strength that was waiting for him. Colt flexed his arms, his massive biceps rising to the size of a normal man’s torso, thick veins standing out prominently on their insane mass. Then, as his strength surged, his inhumanly massive biceps flexed to new impossible size... five feet... six feet... seven feet in height, huge mountains of incredibly veiny, super-strong muscle each of which was taller than 99.999962% of people on Earth. Colt’s whole body was growing too, his already colossal frame expanding as his body desperately tried to accommodate his muscles as they surged with unstoppable size and mass. His traps exploded inhumanly, beachball-sized and impossibly powerful as they surged above the level of his head, throbbing with raw strength. His whole height blasted upwards, inches visibly adding to his frame as he soared past seven feet, then seven and half, then eight feet... “FUUUCCCKKKK! SO STRONG... SO POWERFUL! MORE! MORE! FUCKIN’ MMOOOOOORRRREEEE!!” Colt’s pecs were becoming the pecs of an unstoppable god. Moments before, they had jutted out an impressive foot from his torso, but now that seemed impossibly puny compared to the sheer size and power they were now amassing. Impossibly defined, striated, veiny muscle throbbed outwards, mind-bending strength contained within them, now reaching the size of boulders. Colt’s abs, too, were growing wildly, blasting out of his stomach, growing and widening into ten deeply carved, impossibly shredded slabs of solid muscle that heaved in and out with every breath he took. “UUNNNNGGGGHHHH! YEAH! I’M A FUCKIN’ GOD... A GOD OF MUSCLE!!! AND I WANT MOOOORRREEE!!!” His thighs were transforming into titanic, bulging masses of all-powerful muscle, shifting and flexing under his skin, getting bigger and bigger and bigger until Danny doubted his hands would meet if he were to put his arms around even one superhuman thigh. Even Colt’s calves were growing insanely, blasting passed the size of basketballs, flaring out larger and larger as they flexed powerfully below the obscene mass of his thighs. Not to be outdone, Colt’s massive python-like cock was growing too, stretching and growing with mighty throbs, his flared cockhead expanding wider and wider as his shaft got thicker, longer, harder and stronger. Twenty-two inches... twenty-six inches... thirty-two inches... on and on it went, thickening and growing, before finally straining to an incredible forty-nine inches, thicker than a fire extinguisher and over four feet of diamond-hard manhood, thick veins pumping it with unstoppable power. His balls, too, swelled bigger than watermelons, almost audibly churning with insane amounts of thick, virile cum. As Colt’s growth finally slowed, Danny grinned with pleasure at the teen’s inhumanly vast body, incredible masses of superstrong muscle bulging in every direction. Danny was getting to be a pretty good judge of these things, and he was pretty sure that Colt’s body had to be packing over 3,000 pounds of pure muscle, more than one and half tons of hyperstrong beef. Colt, lost in the mind-blowing sensations of the godlike power that was coursing through his entire body, seemed determined to milk his growth spurt for every ounce he could get. He flexed his whole body, causing everything to bulge and surge with obscene, sexy muscle for one final push. “COME ON, COME ON! I WANT MORE STRENGTH! MORE POWER! MAKE ME A FUCKING HYPERMUSCLED FREAK! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” With a deep bass roar that shook the whole aircraft hanger, Colt’s cock exploded. If his orgasm before had been intense and powerful, it was nothing compared to the extreme musclegasm that blasted through him. Danny literally dived out of the way as several gallons of Colt’s cum, a single blast, showered the spot where he had been standing. On and on and on it went. Colt seized his cock with both hands, his muscles bulging and flexing as he powerfully jerked off, sending massive loads of cum splattering all over the hangar. His titanic gonads surged and churned, pumping out gallons and gallons of hot teen seed. The hangar, fortunately, had built-in floor drains, and so huge was the volume of cum that it flowed like a flood into them. Eventually, after more than five minutes, Colt’s orgasm finally subsided. “Fuck, that was intense...” he panted, “but it felt soooo good...” His obscenely enormous muscles bulged and flexed as he breathed out, a sheen of sweat coating his vast body. His titanic cock remained fully, absurdly erect despite the epic orgasm he had just unleashed, his massive cockhead resting in the insane cleft between his wrecking-ball sized pecs. “Well, how’s that for some progress?” said Danny cheerfully. “Wanna see how much you can bench now?” “Fuck yeah,” he growled, “let’s see what these muscles can do!” Colt’s cock visibly throbbed with anticipation, a steady stream of pre-cum wetting his immense shaft, as they walked over to Danny’s machine. Colt walked slightly ahead, which gave Danny the opportunity to admire the incredible topography of the teenager’s insanely muscular back, as well as the beautiful motion of his monster thighs sexily rubbing each other as he walked. More than that, however, was the enticing sight of Colt’s hypermuscular ass, his glutes two massive bulging globes of hyperdefined, striated power. Danny couldn’t help but think how wonderful it would be to pound that ass for hours and hours... They reached the specialised bench press machine and Colt eagerly lowered himself on the bench; the apparatus groaned audibly under his weight, but it held. With a whirring sound, the bar automatically raised to allow for Colt’s increased arm range, and more importantly to allow the bar to be clear of his colossal pecs. “So frickin’ cool. I’m gonna come over a lot to use this machine, Doc.” It wasn’t a question or a request: Danny suspected that Colt would be in no mood for ever asking for permission for anything ever again. After all, if he wanted to do something, who could stop him? “What shall we try, Colt? Twenty tons?” “Do it!” grunted Colt. Danny’s adjusted the settings, the machine producing the usual mechanical as it prepared to simulate a weight of twenty tons. Colt blasted out a couple of reps before letting the bar fall with an almighty crash. “Too light, it’s not even a challenge. Heavier!” Danny set it to thirty tons. This seemed to produce a little more resistance, and to require some more effort on Colt’s part, but again he let the bar drop after a few reps. “Still not enough! Hah, I’m so FUCKING STRONG that even thirty tons is nothing! More, Doc!” Danny set the machine to forty tons. This time, Colt’s effort was visible. His obscenely large muscles bulged and pumped with the effort, the pipe-thick veins standing out on his arms and chest as he raised the enormously heavy bar. “YEAH! THAT’S MORE LIKE IT!” he bellowed as he began to do rep after rep. His insane pecs surged with each rep, two massive boulders flexing with unmatched power and sexiness, and his arms flared bigger and bigger with unstoppable might. His form was unmatched, and watching his absurd muscles flex and pump as he blasted out rep after rep was hypnotically sexy. “Very impressive, Colt,” murmured Danny, enjoying the reaction he knew his words would provoke, “forty tons... that’s about, what, equivalent to thirty cars? Think how weak you were before, struggling with a mere one and half tons. You thought you were a god before, but now look at you.” Colt’s cock thickened and strained, his massive cockhead sandwiched between his enormous pecs as they flexed with each rep. The pressure was probably hard enough to crush rocks, but Colt’s cock was far, far harder than rock. Copious amounts of pre-cum flowed from it and mixed with his sweat, running in rivulets down his colossal body. “UUHHHN! IT FEELS SO GOOD! I’M SO PUMPED... AND SO FUCKIN’ STRONG!” he roared. “FORTY TONS!?! I’M A FUCKIN’ GOD... AND SO FUCKING HARD RIGHT NOW!!!” With a bellow that shook the hangar, Colt hit his hundredth rep and, as the bar slammed home, his cock finally succumbed to the impossibly intense pleasure throbbing through his whole body, torrents of cum exploding yet again from his absurdly huge manhood. Lying down as he was, Colt was able to use his hands to push his cock-shaft into the cavernous chasm between his own pecs, pec-fucking himself as seemingly never-ending gallons of jizz blasted over his head. Unable to restrain himself, Danny knelt down between the two monstrous, bulging, sweaty masses of Colt’s thighs, and began to massage Colt’s watermelon-sized balls. The heat coming off them was intense, and he could feel them churning wildly under his fingers as they produced incredible amounts of hyper-virile seed to carry on feeding Colt’s extreme orgasm. With his tongue, he began to lick the base of the giant teen’s massive, throbbing shaft, a tiny additional pleasure piled on the intense eroticism the teen felt as he fucked his own godly pecs. “SO... FUCKING... INTENSE!” Colt cried. “I’M CUMMING AND CUMMING... I’M THE STRONGEST FUCKIN’ STUD IN HISTORY! SHIT... I COULD IMPREGNATE AN ENTIRE FUCKING CITY!!!!” The thick, hose-like veins on his super-cock thickened and surged as they fed his hyper orgasm. Huge veins also suffused his insanely massive pecs, flexing and squeezing around his cock like a steel vice. The pleasure was so intense, the feeling of unstoppable power so intoxicating, that Colt was nearly losing consciousness, his only thought being to maintain and prolong his climax. With a final, mind-shattering thrust, his orgasm finally ended with a last superhuman blast of cum, and Colt lay there panting, his whole massive body slick with sweat and cum. Meanwhile, huge areas of the hangar were covered in vast quantities of his semen, the drains almost at their limit as the surplus flowed away. Danny stood and grinned as he looked around – cleaning up was going to be a massive pain in the ass, but it was worth it to cultivate a subject with as much promise as Colton Walker. Colt stood, pausing only a moment to wipe some of the excess cum from his huge pectorals, before striking a stunning crab pose, more than 3,000 pounds of pure, perfect muscle flexed to perfection. Unsurprisingly, his monster cock remained fully hard, despite having just had his third massive orgasm in less than 30 minutes. “That was... epic...” he panted, “damn, it’s incredible to feel this strong, this powerful... I fucking love it!” “You’ve done very well, Colt,” said Danny, “I’m proud of you.” Colt looked at Danny, almost as if he had forgotten he was there. For a moment, an almost boyish grin spread over his face, before his expression hardened into one of imperious arrogance. “Doc, you helped me get this big... but it’s not enough. Nowhere near enough. I sensed all that power that you taught me to see, and this is just a drop in the ocean. I wanna get much, much bigger and much, much stronger. Make it happen, Doc. Now.” “Perhaps we can try that, in a future session,” said Danny calmly, “but that’s enough for today.” Colt stepped forward, letting himself loom over Danny. His look was one of cold arrogance as he stared down at Danny over the vast bulk of his inhuman pecs, letting the implicit threat of his words carry. “I said ‘now’, Doc. You’re going to help me get bigger right now,” growled the teen. All that growth has taken his already manly voice down a couple of octaves. “No, Colt, not today,” said Danny firmly. Colt’s monster cock, wider than Danny’s whole head, loomed above him, like a battering ram. “It wasn’t a request, Doc. I can break you like a fucking twig if I have to. BIGGER! NOW!” Danny sighed. A memory suddenly came to mind from his childhood, visiting his Uncle Clive’s farm. The young Danny Myerson was always fascinated by all aspects of farming life, and Uncle Clive had loved showing him around on every visit. He remembered one visit, where Uncle Clive had brought him to a young, energetic colt and explained that he wouldn’t let anyone ride him – that horses, naturally, hated having anyone on their back. It was a matter of teaching the colt who was boss, letting it learn that you were in charge; after that, it would happily let you ride it. This process was referred to as ‘breaking’ the colt. Danny smiled. Time to “break the Colt”, as it were. “No,” he said softly. Colt swung his obscenely massive arm, hitting Danny’s chest with a blow hard enough to shatter concrete. His expression changed from arrogance to surprise as Danny didn’t even move, even as the thundercrack sound of the blow echoed around the hangar. By all rights, Danny should have been a smear on the far wall. “Wh... what..?” said Colt, suddenly uncertain. “How do you think I know so much about hyperpuberty, Colt? Why do you think I’m such an expert?” asked Danny softly, unable to keep a smile from his face. “Because I’ve been through it too.” Several years of practice had given Danny complete control over his entire body, being able to pull his muscles into such incredible density that he could pass for a normal man of slim build; he could even draw in his height and cock size. But nothing... NOTHING... felt as incredible as letting loose and just letting sheer unstoppable muscle power take over. With a smile, he reached out with his senses and embraced the massive well of energy that always seemed to be just out of sight. In an instant, sheer raw strength surged through his body. Danny’s t-shirt, which moments ago had hung loosely on his slim frame, suddenly was no longer loose. His muscles swelled and bulged, and he enjoyed the feeling of the t-shirt suddenly being tight across his chest as his pecs pumped to the level that would make a pro-bodybuilder jealous. “Mmm... oh yeah, this never gets old...” he murmured. He flexed his arms, and with a loud tearing sound his basketball-sized biceps shredded the sleeves, the fabric giving way before the veiny, powerful mass that now bulged out of his arms. It wasn’t only his sleeves that were tearing. Danny had been hard from the moment he had set eyes on Colt, and keeping his cock under control had been a conscious effort – but not any longer. His jeans tore with a loud ripping sound as his cock simply could not be contained, thickening and lengthening to an impressive nineteen inches. The tears continued to lengthen as his thighs swelled to superhuman proportions, the splitting material starting to show the bulging, corded, striated muscle within. “Huh... that’s cool,” muttered Colt, trying to recover some of his original arrogance, “but you’re still a pipsqueak compared to me, Doc. That all you got?” “Oh, Colt, we really need to do something about that attitude of yours,” said Danny with a smile, “I’m just beginning!” Danny threw his head back, a moan escaping his lips as the sheer orgasmic feeling of unstoppable strength flooded through him, waves and waves of indescribable pleasure pounding through him as his muscles surged and expanded. What remained of Danny’s t-shirt survived for only seconds, the material shredding as his pecs exploded with heaving, monstrous, striated mass. The absurd bulk of his pecs was further pushed up as his abs bulged with insane strength, a massively shredded and defined 10-pack fighting for space on his torso as they evolved into a landscape of rock-hard valleys and plateaus. His back expanded too, growing broader and broader as his muscles grew beyond godly proportions, his neck thickening as monstrous traps bulged into globes of seemingly-limitless strength. His arms, even unflexed, burgeoned to gargantuan size, two immense pillars of bulging, corded, explosive muscle. “FUCK!” he shouted, unable to contain himself. “EVERY TIME IT FEELS... SO... FUCKING... GOOD!” The remains of his pants fell away, leaving Danny’s impossibly growing form completely naked as his colossal thighs and monstrous quads and glutes blasted outwards with thick, corded, striated muscle, ever fibre visible under his taught skin and somehow managing to make his boulder-sized calves seem small in comparison. His cock too continued to grow, straining and throbbing to ever greater length and thickness as his muscles ascended to godhood. As his height surged, Danny found himself suddenly looking Colt straight in the eye. For the moment, they looked perfectly matched – two insanely strong demigods, their bodies overflowing with unstoppable muscle and insatiable cock. The expression on Colt’s handsome face was a wild mixture of emotions: arrogance, wonder, fear, lust, desire... ...and Danny was nowhere near finished. “SO COLT... WHO WERE YOU CALLING A PIPSQUEAK?” he boomed, his voice having dropped several octaves. With a rumble that shook the hangar, his muscles carried on with their insane growth, showing no sign of stopping. Danny remembered Colt’s amazement at flexing his biceps to seven feet in height. With his own cocky grin, Danny flexed his arms and Colt watched in wonder and lust as they bulged up into immense veiny peaks, before they began to grow even larger. With an incredible push, his flexed arms surged to ten feet in height, two obscenely huge mountains of throbbing, striated, bulging, veiny muscle, each one bigger than Colt’s whole body. “Fuck...” said Colt, his voice filled with terror and desire in equal measure, a gush of pre-cum running from his huge, throbbing cock. “Doc, I want this power... I want this strength... I want... you...” With a triumphant laugh, Danny reached forward and grabbed Colt, easily lifting his 3,000 pound bulk like he was a child. He flipped him and slammed him into the floor, the concrete splintering and cracking with the force of Colt’s impact. The teen’s muscles might be nothing compared to Danny’s still growing body, but Danny licked his lips appreciatively as the sight of the younger man’s bulging, mountainous back, his vast thighs, and his invitingly and absurdly muscled ass. Danny’s growing cock had reached sixty insane inches, taller than some people and most definitely thicker than most men’s waists. If he was going to fuck Colt, he’d need to do it before his cock got too big: any bigger and he might accidentally kill him. He looked forward to getting Colt to a big enough size where he could take Danny’s true size, but for now his diamond-hard, throbbing, veiny fuckpole needed to claim the teen’s gorgeous ass. “YEAH, COLT... YOU WANT MUSCLES LIKE THESE, YOU’RE GONNA NEED TO GET USED TO HAVING THAT ASS OF YOURS TAKE ALL OF MY HUGE, FUCKING COCK!” Danny knelt, his vast, bulging, growing thighs straddling Colt’s own massive legs, which were themselves obscenely huge until they were compared with Danny’s inhuman limbs. Danny manoeuvred the medicine ball-sized glans of his massive cock to Colt’s ass, rubbing the head between the teen’s hyper-striated, bulging glutes, coating them in his streaming pre-cum. With an almost bestial snarl, Danny pushed forward, sinking his cock deep into Colt’s ass. Colt gave a whimper that was halfway between pain and desire as his ass had to stretch to accommodate Danny’s vast girth. Danny leaned in, crushing his insane, still-growing pecs into the mountains that made up Colt’s inhuman back. Colt’s back had superhuman definition, but Danny’s pecs were each now the size of Colt’s entire torso, bulging with unstoppable strength that massively outstripped Colt’s own prodigious strength. The concrete floor continued to shatter and crack as Danny utterly dominated Colt with his superior strength, driving his cock deep into Colt’s ass with relentless force. “FUCK!” yelled Colt, his voice cracking with an equal mix of intense pleasure and pain. “YOU’RE A FUCKING BEAST, DOC, A FUCKING SUPER-GOD! I WANT ALL YOUR MUSCLES, ALL YOUR STRENGTH... FUCK, I CAN FEEL YOU GROWING INSIDE ME!” With a deep bass laugh, Danny climbed to his feet, bringing Colt with him. Incredibly, Colt’s entire 3,000 weight was easily held aloft by Danny’s super-cock, as if he was wearing the insanely-muscled teen as a human condom. His still-growing cock had filled Colt’s ass completely, so as he grew the teen slowly inched up and up his godly fuckpole, his ass stretching superhumanly to take as much of Danny’s absurd girth as he could. Danny pecs surged again, now each reaching the size of a car, hyper-striated and fed with incredible strength by pipe-thick veins. His boulder-sized traps continued to ascend to godhood, pushing his bodily height to 15 feet. He was now easily over 7,000 pounds of hyper-dense, hyper-strong muscle. Each of Danny’s thighs was as wide as a truck and still growing with every passing moment, two massive planetoids of shredded, bulging muscle that easily supported Colt and Danny’s own immense weight. As his cock surged bigger and harder than ever, Colt’s position became more upright, his superbly muscled ass spreading beautifully to try to accommodate Danny’s monster manhood. The effect of this movement was press his whole body against Danny’s insane 10-pack of throbbing, ultra-hard, hyper-massive abs. The intense heat and raw, sexy power they gave off was more than Colt could handle: his own cock erupted with yet another godly orgasm, huge ropes of seed firing in great arcs to splatter prodigiously all over the hangar. Craning his bull-like neck up, he began to lick the underside of Danny’s mammoth pecs, that hung like a vast shelf over him. “HEH? YOU LIKE THAT, PIPSQUEAK?” roared Danny. “WHY DON’T I SHOW YOU SOMETHING THAT’LL MAKE YOU CUM EVEN HARDER?” With Colt impaled on his cock, Danny walked over to his adaptive weights machine, enjoying the feeling of the hyper-muscled teen riding him, the heat and tightness of his ass as it struggled to accommodate as much as it could of a cock now over eight feet long and thicker than an oil barrel. The musky smell of Colt’s spraying cum, flooding the hangar, was also an immense turn-on. Danny could sense that he would be blowing his own load soon, but he was determined to show the teen who was boss and to make it as spectacular as possible. The hangar shook with each footstep, the abused concrete floor continuing to split and crack under Danny’s bare feet. His fingers jabbed the controls, setting the simulated weight machine to the maximum setting of 20,000 tons. “Wha...?” said Colt, looking on in lustful fascination even through the brain-fog of his ongoing, hyper-intense orgasm. Indeed, the mere suggestion of such weight seemed to intensify it slightly, the eruptions of cum suddenly harder, stronger, thicker. Wrapping a single fist around the bar, Danny lifted. With a strained groan from the mechanism, the bar slowly but surely raised up. Danny’s bicep surged wildly, straining and flexing to insane, absurd, obscene new size. It didn’t even look like an arm anymore: it was a twenty foot high mountain of godly, bulging, hyper-defined muscle, covered with thick, throbbing veins. Unstoppable, incalculable power and strength flooded powerfully, orgasmically, through his body as he bicep-curled TWENTY THOUSAND FUCKING TONS! “Fuck, Doc!” panted Colt, both hands gripping his shaft as he came and came. “That’s... fucking incredible! Please... please, I want you to make me as strong as you! Please! I’ll do anything! I’ll let you fuck me as hard as you want!” “LET? YOU THINK I NEED YOUR PERMISSION TO CLAIM YOUR ASS?” roared Danny. “I WILL HELP YOU GET STRONGER, BUT ONLY SO YOU CAN TAKE MY COCK WHENEVER I WANT. UNDERSTAND, PIPSQUEAK? I PLAN TO GET MUCH, MUCH STRONGER... AND I WILL ALWAYS BE THE FUCKING BOSS OF YOU!!!” “Uh... Yes! Yes! Anything! I love you! I want you! I’ll do whatever you say, just MAKE ME INTO A MUSCLE GOD AND FUCK ME HARD!” Danny’s free hand, grown in size to accommodate his body’s vast growth, gripped Colt’s hyper-muscled torso – which managed to appear small and lean compared to Danny’s inhumanly freakish bulk – and began to pump the teen’s whole body up and down his gargantuan shaft. There was no way Colt’s ass could now take even a quarter of Danny’s cock, but Danny enjoyed the feeling of pushing him almost to breaking point. Up and down, up and down, he pounded the head of his cock into Colt’s ass in time with each rep he blasted out on the machine. With a roar, Danny smashed out his thirtieth rep. Letting the bar drop, it slammed down with enough force to send great cracks spiralling through the walls of the hangar. With a final superhuman, world-crushing show of strength, he flexed his entire body. His ultra-striated pecs surged to the size of tanks, his abs to the size of cars, throbbing with overwhelming strength that would easily outmatch the entire combined strength of an entire city’s population. His obscene traps and delts blasted up with unstoppable, veiny, striated mass to clear twenty feet in height, even as his arms became more absurdly developed and bulged to over thirty feet in diameter. His thighs, powerful enough to propel him into orbit if he chose, had also reached the level of godhood, their absurdly huge mass rubbing sexily together with a force that would instantly grind titanium into dust. This amazing surge of his muscles, and the intense feeling of the strength pounding through his body, finally brought Danny to climax. With an impossible throb, his cock expanded to ten feet long and as thick as a mighty oak tree. Colt’s ass, pushed beyond limit, could no longer contain any part of him, and he was forced up, ending for a moment sitting on Danny’s immense cockhead, gallons of precum leaking down his muscular thighs. He was suddenly thrown off as Danny’s cock erupted like a volcano, sending the teen spinning to the floor. Dozens of gallons per second of hot jizz thundered upwards, hitting the corrugated iron ceiling of the hangar with such force that it caused the metal to buckle and warp. On and on it went, an unstoppable tsunami of seed raining down. Colt lay stunned on the floor, his own cock still erupting heavily, as Danny’s cum overwhelmed everything. It got in his mouth, his nose, his ass... and he loved it. Looking up at the insanely muscled god, his muscles so vastly freakish he was barely human-shaped anymore, roaring with pleasure and strength as he unleashed an ocean of cum, Colt knew that he wanted nothing more than help Danny get even bigger, and to get bigger himself so that he could worship at this living altar of unstoppable sex and muscle. “This is what the future looks like...” he muttered to himself as his consciousness slipped away in the face of utter sensory and orgasmic overload. *********************** “Very nice to meet you, Mrs Walker,” said Danny, shaking her hand. They were out on the old airfield, in the sunshine, and out of sight of the old hangar. Danny had locked it up: it would be questionable as to whether the structure could even be saved given the damage, but even if could it would be the work of several days to clear up the mess of his and Colt’s initial meeting. In any event, he was pretty sure he was outgrowing the hangar (in every meaning of the word), so finding somewhere else to carry on his experiments was probably a good idea. Perhaps some uninhabited island? Danny had shrunk down to his original size. Well, nearly his original size: he had permitted himself his own hint of vanity, and the sleeveless vest he was now wearing showed off a pair of well developed arms and a set of pecs that would have pleased any serious weightlifter. Only a nod towards his true strength, but it had been a good day and he wanted to end it on a high note. “Dr Myerson, I can’t believe what you’ve done – it’s a miracle!” burbled Colt’s mother, looking happily at her son. It had taken Danny an hour to finish cumming... the first time. Colt had pleaded to be allowed to worship his muscles, and Danny had obliged, which had in due course led to another titanic orgasm from both of them. Then Danny had started teaching Colt the method of controlling his muscles, compressing and compacting them to disguise his condition. Colt hadn’t quite perfected the technique yet, but they had managed to get his form down to a plausible size for a normal 18 year old, although one who engaged in intensive bodybuilding. They had also managed to get his cock down to a realistic, if still very impressive, ten inches, although he remained permanently rock hard – Danny had suggested he find a dozen willing lovers as soon as possible and just try to work the lust out of his system. In the meantime, they had just put him in the baggiest tracksuit that Danny had in storage, and evidently it had passed Mrs Walker’s standards. It helped that Colt’s haughty and arrogant expression was now gone, replaced with a sheepish grin and a sparkle in his eyes whenever he glanced at Danny. “Yes,” said Danny, “Colt has responded very well to my techniques. But he is not cured yet, I’m afraid – he may never be. In order to keep on top of his condition, I will need to see him regularly...” “Weekly,” interrupted Colt. “At least.” “I will need to see him weekly, at the very least,” continued Danny smoothly. “I would also like him to meet some of my other patients – I have over a dozen young men now – as I feel that would help with his rehabilitation. I think that together, we could do great things. Perhaps change the world.” “Of course, of course, Dr Myerson,” she said, still enthusiastically shaking his hand. “I’ll make sure Colt comes every time.” “I doubt Colt will need any help cumming...” said Danny with a grin at the teen, the joke sailing clean over Mrs Walker’s head, “well, I look forward to seeing you very soon, Colt.” “Yeah, see you soon... sir.”

Steel and Stone – One Forged, One Chiseled, Both Powerful A Riverton City Gym Story set in early 2023 (This work was written with the support of AI in regards of editing and paragraph revision.) Joe and Jake took different paths in bodybuilding – Joe focused on sculpted definition, while Jake chased sheer mass. When their old training rivalry resurfaces at Riverton City Gym, it quickly escalates into a test of strength. A friendly arm-wrestling match turns into a deeper challenge, pushing them both to test out their own limits. Introduction Joe had always been serious about training. A student of nutrition science, he knew the science behind muscle growth, but his passion for lifting had started long before his studies – back when he was just 14. Now, at 22, he had built a physique that turned heads: lean, sculpted, and balanced. His usual gym was closed for renovations, so he had been visiting Riverton for the past few weeks. That was where he ran into Jake. Jake was four years older and had taken a different path. Back in school, they had occasionally trained together, but while Joe had focused on proportions and cuts, Jake had gone all in on sheer size and strength. Now a powerhouse of a man, he was bigger than ever—thick, broad, and undeniably strong. The moment Joe stepped into Jake’s gym, their old training dynamic reignited. Their friendly rivalry turned into a game of constant one-upmanship, pushing each other harder every session. And then, after some time of challenges and banter, there was only one way to settle it. A match. A test of strength. Arm wrestling. The first Match Joe and Jake locked hands, their grips tightening as they braced themselves for the match. The tension crackled between them, both men exuding confidence – until Joe's gaze shortly but truly scanned Jake’s arm. His green eyes widened slightly, betraying a flicker of surprise. Jake smirked, noticing the reaction. His biceps, thick and full, swelled as he flexed slightly, making the bulge stand out. “Didn’t expect that, did you?” he teased, his deep voice carrying an edge of amusement. Joe, who was used to be the biggest guy in any room, recovered quickly, rolling his shoulders back. “You’ve got size,” he admitted, his own sculpted arm tensed and ready, “but let’s see how that translates to strength.” Their muscles strained as the match began, veins popping, tendons tightening. The contrast between them was stark—Joe’s chiseled, lean power against Jake’s sheer mass and brute force. Neither man gave an inch at first, their arms trembling with effort. Jake grinned, pushing harder. “Not bad, bodybuilder,” he said through clenched teeth. Joe smirked, sweat forming on his brow. “Likewise, big guy.” The match was far from over. They both remained locked in their arm-wrestling battle, muscles tensed, veins bulging, sweat forming on their brows. Joe gritted his teeth, his lean, sculpted arm trembling as he fought against the sheer force of Jake’s massive biceps. Jake, still smirking, applied steady pressure, his thick forearm flexing as he pushed down. Joe knew he was in trouble. The sheer size of Jake’s arm wasn’t just for show—it was raw power. But he wasn’t out yet. Digging deep, he shifted his grip slightly and twisted his wrist, using technique over brute force. Jake’s smirk faltered for a split second as Joe pushed back, regaining lost ground. “Not bad,” Jake grunted, adjusting his stance. His smirk returned, but this time with a hint of effort. Joe exhaled sharply, locking eyes with Jake. He could feel his strength draining, but he refused to go down easily. With one last burst of effort, he surged forward—but it wasn’t enough. Joe’s biceps swelled as he pushed with everything he had, but Jake barely budged. The powerlifter smirked, his strength overwhelming. With a slow, deliberate motion, he began forcing Joe’s arm downward. Joe gritted his teeth, but the difference in power was undeniable. Jake let out a deep chuckle and, with a final flex of his monstrous arm, slammed Joe’s hand to the table. The impact echoed, and for a moment, there was silence. Then Jake leaned back, rolling his shoulder. “Damn,” Joe muttered, shaking out his arm. “I thought I had you for a second.” – “You almost did,” Jake admitted, still grinning. “But size does matter, after all.” Joe huffed a laugh, rubbing his forearm. “Maybe. But next time, I’m coming back stronger.” Jake clapped him on the back. “I’d expect nothing less.” The match was over, but the rivalry? Far from it. That night, Joe lay in bed replaying the match over and over. He took the defeat harder than he had expected. The match had been friendly, yet losing in the public of a gym stung. He hated how easily Jake had overpowered him. It wasn’t just strength; it was dominance. And worst of all, Jake had smirked through the whole thing. He had underestimated Jake’s sheer force. But he wasn’t going to let it end like this. He needed to grow. To come back stronger. To win. Months Later Joe’s heart pounded with anticipation as he stepped back into the Riverton City Gym. Months of relentless training, grueling workouts, and strict dieting had transformed him. His arms were thicker, his chest broader, and yet he had maintained his signature lean, sculpted look. He ran a hand through his now slightly longer hair, feeling the confidence radiate through his stronger frame. He scanned the gym, searching for Jake. The moment he spotted him, his breath caught. Jake was bigger. Much bigger. The strongman’s frame had expanded considerably, his arms and shoulders thicker than ever. But with all that extra mass, there was also a noticeable softness to him now. His midsection carried more weight, and his once purely powerful physique now held a bulkier, more massive look. His five o’clock shadow remained, but there was a new ruggedness to him, a presence that made it clear – he hadn’t been slacking off either. Jake turned, and their eyes met. A slow, knowing smirk spread across his face. “Well, well,” Jake rumbled, crossing his thick arms over his chest. “Look who’s back. And looking … bigger.” Joe smirked back, rolling his shoulders. “Had to even the playing field. Didn’t want you thinking I’d let that loss slide.” Jake chuckled, patting his stomach. “Yeah? Well, I’ve been busy too. Maybe not as ‘cut’ as you, but let’s just say—” He flexed an arm, the sheer size of it still overwhelming. “—I didn’t lose any strength.” Joe stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. “Only one way to find out.” Jake grinned wide, already moving toward the arm-wrestling table. The Re-Encounter The gym buzzed with excitement as the crowd gathered around Joe and Jake. The air was thick with anticipation, and the energy was electric. Before the rematch could even begin, voices from the crowd started calling out. “Pose down first!” someone shouted. Joe grinned. This was his moment. He knew that while Jake might have sheer size on his side, his own physique was sharper, leaner, and more dramatic under the lights. He stepped forward, raising his arms into a classic double biceps pose. His muscles popped with deep cuts, veins running like a roadmap over his arms. The crowd reacted instantly, murmurs of appreciation spreading as his defined physique was on full display. Jake, however, didn’t flinch. If he was uneasy about this kind of contest, he didn’t show it. Instead, he smirked and simply raised an eyebrow. “Let’s measure”, he said, flexing his massive arm. A measuring tape was brought out, and Joe went first. He flexed hard, his biceps swelling to an impressive 21 inches. The crowd let out an approving murmur. Then it was Jake’s turn. He casually raised his arm, flexing, and the sheer mass of it dwarfed Joe’s. The tape stretched over 23 inches of thick, powerful muscle, even pushing the 23.5 mark! The crowd gasped. Even without the same deep cuts as Joe, the sheer size was overwhelming. Joe refused to back down. He took a deep breath and started pumping his arms, flexing harder and harder, willing every fiber of muscle to expand. The veins along his biceps bulged, his skin tightening over the growing peak. The tape measure inched forward. 21.5 inches. He gritted his teeth, pushing further. 22 inches. The crowd watched in awe. He was closing the gap. Joe kept going, his muscles burning, sweat forming on his brow. The tape measure crept higher… Would he match Jake’s size? The gym held its breath, waiting for the final measurement. The tape measure stopped at 22.5 inches. Joe flexed harder, pushing with everything he had, but that was his limit. It was an incredible measurement – easily among the biggest of bodybuilders – but Jake’s still held the edge. The crowd erupted in cheers for Jake, their longtime gym hero, but Joe noticed something they didn’t. A shadow flickered across Jake’s face. It was subtle, just a moment of realization, but Joe caught it. And then he understood. That extra inch Jake had on him? It wasn’t all muscle. There was a layer of fat covering the strongman’s biceps, softening the definition. The gym-goers might not have picked up on it, but Jake had. And he knew exactly what it meant – Joe was going to be serious trouble in the arm-wrestling match. Jake took a deep breath and tried to summon a pump of his own. He flexed, rolling his shoulders, clenching his fists, but it didn’t do as much for him. The tape shifted slightly, maybe 0.1 or 0.2 inches, but that was it. His mass was undeniable, but the sharpness, the dramatic muscle pop that Joe had? It wasn’t there. Joe smirked. Now was the time to press his advantage. “Alright,” he said, stretching his arms. “That was fun. But now … let’s do what the crowd asked for. A pose down.” Jake hesitated. He hadn’t minded the measuring contest – he knew sheer size was on his side – but this? This was different. Joe peeled off his gym shirt effortlessly, revealing his chiseled, deeply cut physique. The crowd reacted instantly, murmurs of admiration rippling through the gym. Every muscle on Joe’s body was visible, his abs looking like they were sculpted from stone, his vascularity adding to the effect. Jake exhaled. He wanted to pose with his shirt on, but one look at the crowd told him they wouldn’t accept that. They wanted to see it all. With a reluctant sigh, he grabbed the hem of his gym shirt and started pulling it up. But it wasn’t so easy – his sheer size made it a struggle. A few guys from the gym stepped in to help, peeling the tight fabric over his thick arms and broad torso. Finally, the shirt was off. Jake stood there, his massive frame exposed. His size was undeniable – his chest, shoulders, and arms were huge – but the extra weight was obvious now. His abs were blurred under a layer of bulk, and compared to Joe’s razor-sharp definition, the difference was clear. Joe stepped forward, confidence radiating off him. “Let’s do this.” The contest was on. The Pose-down Joe and Jake hit pose after pose, the crowd watching in awe. Joe started strong, knowing exactly how to play to his strengths. He flexed into a front double biceps pose, his arms peaking high, veins running like lightning across his skin. His waist was so small, so tight, that it made his V-taper look almost unreal – his lats flaring wide, his shoulders broad and perfectly capped. Some of the gym-goers whispered among themselves: Joe wouldn’t just hold his own against top bodybuilders – he would outclass many of them. Jake mirrored the pose. His arms were bigger, no doubt, and his chest and shoulders created a massive silhouette. But there was a struggle in his stance – his midsection was harder to keep in check, his flexes less refined. His muscle bellies were full, but without Joe’s razor-sharp cuts, they didn’t pop in the same way. He adjusted, trying to pull in his stomach, but it was clear that he wasn’t as comfortable in this kind of contest. Joe transitioned into a side chest pose, puffing out his pecs, his obliques slicing into view, his hamstrings deeply striated. The crowd murmured again – his proportions were elite. Jake followed, but his execution was different. His sheer size was impressive, but his movements were less fluid, his stomach not quite cooperating with the tight flex. He knew it. And so, just as Joe was about to transition into the next pose, Jake changed the game. Instead of standing next to Joe, he stepped behind him. The effect was immediate. Joe, who had been commanding the stage with his precise, dramatic flexes, suddenly looked overshadowed – literally. Even though Jake was two inches shorter, his sheer thickness created an illusion of dominance. It was like watching the sun emerge from behind a rock – Joe’s chiseled form was still stunning, but now it was framed by something even bigger. The crowd reacted. There was muffled laughter, a few whispers. Joe’s confidence wavered for the first time. Jake had just turned his own strength against him. Joe tried to redirect the focus. He subtly shifted his stance, angling to highlight his midsection, the one area where Jake couldn’t compete. But the problem was clear – when a group of men saw bigger arms, wider shoulders, and sheer size, a few love handles didn’t matter. Jake saw Joe’s frustration and smirked. He relished the moment. Then, after a few more moments of soaking in the attention, he clapped his hands together and stepped forward. “Alright,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the gym noise. “Enough flexing. Let’s get to the real competition.” The Arm-wrestling Rematch Joe could still feel the weight of the posedown’s outcome lingering in his chest. It wasn’t just the fact that he had lost that round – it was how he had lost. He had walked in expecting to dominate, expecting to leave Jake shaken before they even locked hands at the table. But instead, Jake had turned the tables on him, using his sheer size to shift the crowd’s perception. Joe had watched himself be dwarfed, outmaneuvered not by superior muscle definition, but by sheer mass and clever positioning. That was not what he had intended. The mind game was supposed to be his. Now, as they sat down for the real fight, an unfamiliar feeling crept up his spine. Frustration. It was unwelcome, almost alien to him. This was supposed to be fun, just another battle between friends, yet he couldn’t shake the sting of being outplayed. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to breathe, to reset. Jake hadn’t won anything – not yet. He had just gotten into Joe’s head for a moment. Joe exhaled, shaking the doubt off his shoulders. He remembered the look of sorrow on Jake’s face during the measurement. Jake knew. No matter how much bulk he carried, no matter how much the crowd roared for him, he knew Joe was a real threat. That was what mattered now. Joe needed to shake Jake’s confidence again. The crowd might be on Jake’s side, but the measuring tape didn’t lie – Joe’s biceps was a force to be reckoned with. Joe stepped forward. He flexed his right arm, bringing it close to Jake’s face, veins pushing against his skin like cables beneath marble. "You ready to lose to the smaller guy?" Joe taunted, his voice carrying enough edge to make the gym go quiet. Jake didn’t flinch. Instead, he raised his left arm, rolling his wrist, loosening his fingers, then flexing just slightly – his biceps, nonetheless thick and overwhelming, remained softer than Joe’s, but the sheer mass was undeniable. "Let's start with this one," Jake said coolly. An unusual move. Right-handed arm wrestling was the norm, and Joe briefly wondered if this was a bluff. But the look in Jake’s eyes wasn’t one of arrogance. It was strategy. Joe accepted the challenge. They clasped hands – Jake’s grip was immense, swallowing Joe’s fingers whole. The referee, a fellow gym-goer, steadied their arms and counted down. "Three... two... one... GO!" The second their muscles engaged, it was an explosion of power. Joe’s forearm ignited in resistance, his entire arm tensed like steel cable against Jake’s crushing grip. He expected an immediate struggle, but Jake’s left arm – perhaps weaker than his dominant right – wasn’t the wall he thought it would be. Joe pushed hard, his defined arms surging with effort, and the crowd gasped as he gained the early advantage. Jake’s wrist tilted, his knuckles bending ever so slightly toward the table. Joe’s heart pounded. He could win this. Jake, however, didn’t panic. He gritted his teeth and adjusted his stance, shifting his weight forward. His massive frame pressed down, forcing Joe to fight against sheer mass, not just strength. Joe grunted, his elbow burning as Jake slowly started reversing the momentum. The match became a war. Joe shook his head, refusing to let Jake’s mass overpower his technique. He twisted his wrist slightly, adjusting his leverage, and suddenly Jake’s forearm trembled. "Not so easy, huh?" Joe growled through clenched teeth. But Jake didn’t reply. He only dug in deeper. His breathing slowed. His smirk faded. He wasn’t playing anymore. With a sudden, violent surge of power, Jake ripped the match back in his favor. Joe fought tooth and nail, his arm trembling with resistance, but it was like trying to hold back a landslide. His biceps, shredded and defined, couldn’t outlast the sheer weight of Jake’s monstrous frame bearing down on him. His hand slammed to the table. The Aftermath The crowd erupted. Jake leaned back, rolling his shoulder, flexing his fingers, and shaking off the effort like it was never in question. The gym-goers surrounded him, clapping, congratulating. To them, the winner was clear. But Joe knew better. He saw it in Jake’s face during the struggle. This wasn’t dominance. This was survival. And Jake knew it too. As the noise settled, Joe wiped sweat from his brow and looked at Jake. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, Jake’s victorious smirk flickered. Joe grinned. "Let’s run that back. Right arm." Jake exhaled slowly. He didn’t say no. He tried to hide the exhaustion in his arms. He knew that Joe was more dangerous than ever. The guy had trained for months, and while Jake still held the edge in sheer power, he could feel that edge slipping. Joe had the better technique. The better stamina. Jake had thrown everything into his left arm in the previous round. But Joe had held on, weathered the storm, and fought back with better technique and endurance. That was where his real advantage lay. Now, as they switched arms, it became visible in Jake’s breathing, in the way he rolled his shoulders, that he was already tired. He could feel the dull ache creeping into his forearms. He wouldn’t be able to summon that kind of force again. Not easily. Not for long. Which meant this time, he couldn’t afford to let Joe play around. He had to end it instantly before it turned into a war of endurance. One final push. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure how long he could hold out. They both locked hands. Their grips tightened. Then—the ref’s hand dropped. And Jake exploded like a thunderstorm, unleashing a surge of power so overwhelming that Joe barely had time to react. His arm was driven down in bullet time, his wrist bending dangerously, his muscles straining as he fought back with everything he had. It wasn’t enough. Jake’s sheer force barreled through his resistance, crushing his defense. He was going to lose—any second now, his forearm would hit the table. But then—it didn’t. Just one inch from defeat, Joe somehow stopped it. He didn’t know how, but he held firm. Every fiber of his being screamed in protest, his joints locking, his muscles straining to their breaking point. Any second now, he would crack—Jake’s sheer strength should have been enough to finish it. But it wasn’t. Joe was still there, still holding, defying gravity, defying the force bearing down on him. Jake adjusted, his grip tightening, his elbow bracing as he tried to reinforce his leverage—but it wasn’t working. That last inch wouldn’t move. Then, just as suddenly, Joe felt something change. The pressure in Jake’s grip wavered, the force against him ever so slightly receding. Joe felt the tremor in his opponent’s fingers, the hesitation in his movements. Jake wasn’t stopping on purpose—his strength was failing him. He had thrown everything into his first attack, and now he was running on fumes. And that was all Joe needed. And slowly, he pushed back. Jake resisted, every fiber of his being straining against it. But Joe’s arm didn’t stop - it rose, inch by inch, until they were back at twelve o’clock. And then - a standstill. Both men were locked in place, their arms trembling violently. Joe’s biceps were on fire. Jake’s shoulders were locking up. Neither of them could move an inch. And then Joe saw it - Jake’s smile. A quiet, knowing grin. Like he’d figured something out. Joe didn’t have time to wonder what it meant - he gritted his teeth, dug deep, and gave everything he had left. Jake’s arm wavered. His elbow shifted. Joe felt the last resistance crumble beneath him. The next moment - it was over. Jake’s hand slammed against the table. The gym erupted. Joe barely heard them. He was staring at his own hand, disbelieving. He did it. He actually did it. He was breathing hard, his entire arm shaking from exhaustion, but the only thing that mattered was that Jake was smiling up at him. Not disappointed. Not bitter. Just… happy. Joe let out a breathless laugh and clasped his friend's hand. “Hell of a match.” Jake chuckled, rubbing his forearm. “Yeah. You got me.” Joe didn’t notice the glance that passed behind him. One of the gym-goers - a longtime veteran - met Jake’s eyes. There were no words exchanged, just a slight tilt of the head. Jake smirked, looking away. And that’s all that was ever said about it. Aftermath Reflections Joe lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his body still buzzing with the remnants of adrenaline and effort. The victory felt good - undeniably good. He had won against Jake in his own field, proving that technique and endurance could triumph over raw power. Especially after the posedown, where Jake had so cleverly shifted the advantage, this win tasted even sweeter. And as he replayed the events in his mind, his original frustration started to fade. Instead, admiration took its place. Jake had outmaneuvered him in the posedown, just as Joe had outlasted him in the arm wrestling match. They had each conquered a field that wasn't their strong point, and Joe liked that. It made the rivalry more than just strength versus size; it made it a battle of wits, adaptability, and strategy. He smiled to himself, feeling a deeper respect for Jake than ever before. In his own home, Jake stood in front of his bedroom mirror, clad only in his underwear, surveying his reflection. He had always been confident in his strength and his look - his sheer size, his thick, structured frame. The extra fat didn’t bother him; it was part of the package, part of what made him the powerhouse he was. But something about that day had struck a chord. He had focused so much on growing bigger that he hadn’t realized what it had cost him - not just in added softness, but in control and presentation. The clumsiness he had felt during the posedown lingered in his mind, and he didn’t like it. He never cared about competing, but that moment of awkwardness had made him reconsider. Still, he smiled. He had wanted to win, but Joe had needed the victory more. And in the end, that was what mattered. His strength had been real, but so had his struggle. That knowing look from one of the gym-goers had told him he wasn’t the only one who had noticed. But it was fine. Joe had earned it. Jake exhaled and flexed, watching the way his muscles shifted under his skin. He had never cared for posing, but that day had shown him something new - being big didn’t mean you couldn’t carry yourself with power and confidence. Maybe it was time to learn. Joe had his victory. Now, Jake had a new goal of his own.

This is my first complete story. Some of you have been reading this in the Unfinished section of this forum. It's now finished, so I'm posting it here. Thank you to those people who have already given me positive comments on this story. They will undoubtedly encourage me to write more stories. The story has six chapters. Some of them have gay themes, others straight themes, and others bi. I have made some very slight edits to the original six parts that were posted originally, to hopefully improve the story slightly, when it comes to grammar and continuity. Hope you enjoy my story! ------------ BLACK HULK Chapter 1: Kris meets Black Hulk Everyone gasped when he entered. He swaggered slowly to a deckchair, with his belongings, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. This was not odd, since we were in the hotel indoor pool, me and around six or seven strangers. What made everyone gasp was the sheer amount of muscular development this man's body was presenting to our senses. To me, those muscles were instantly recognizable. They belonged to Henk Kuria, or, as everyone in the porn industry called him, Black Hulk. Winner of the past three Mr. Olympias and a long string of other bodybuilding contests, Black Hulk stormed into the bodybuilding scene in 2020 as a 6'4, 380lbs unknown 20-year-old from Kenya. That year, he not only easily defeated, and humiliated, the then Mr. O. Phil Heath, but has won every bodybuilding contest he entered. The incredible thing is that, according to the latest news from the IFBB, Black Hulk weighed an astonishing 420lbs in last year's Mr. O., with a barely comprehensible 4% bodyfat. How do I know this? Well, I've jacked off at least once everyday as soon as my eyes feasted on this giant monument of musculature back then in 2020. So much, so that this year I decided to travel all the way to Las Vegas to witness this guy live. I truly am a huge fan of his. Not just for his giant muscles, but also for his lifestyle. A few months after he won his first Olympia, Black Hulk came out as bisexual. At first, there were rumors that the IFBB would retract his title, but soon common sense prevailed. At that time, Black Hulk started to feature in a lot of porno movies, some straight, some gay, and some bi. The astonishing thing is that, as time went by, not only did his incredibly huge muscles became bigger and bigger, but also, visibly, his cock and balls grew in unison. In his first porno, fucking Lela Star, he had a very respectable 8 inch cock. In his last, not only did he grew 40lbs of muscle since that first porn flick, but also 2 inches of cock; moreover, his dick is visibly much thicker. This last porno was a reverse gangbang, where Black Hulk fucked 20 women in 2 hours. One after the other, every woman roared in an earth shattering orgasm, begging him to stop. Then, in the end, he climaxed on all of them at once, in a cumblast that lasted a full minute. Needless to say, this porno flick proved very popular. The gay porn community have now asked him to film a gay-themed similar flick, with 20 men. Anyway, Black Hulk is here, a few feet away from me. Apparently, he decided to use the services of the same hotel I was in, during his stay in Las Vegas to undoubtedly conquer Mr. Olympia for a fourth time. My cock instantly grew rock hard in my swimtrunks; luckily I was in the pool, so nobody noticed. What also helped somewhat was the fact that every other person that, up till that point, were with me in the pool decided to pack their things and leave. Maybe they were disgusted by his muscles, or by his well-known overly sexualized lifestyle, who knows. Fact is, I was the only one to witness him casually removing his towel from his overly-muscular waist, revealing a swimsuit that was clearly struggling to contain the massive cock and balls inside it. Then he proceeded to jump in the pool, with a grace that beguiled his enormous frame. This was too good an opportunity to miss. I had to talk to him! But... I completely froze! "Hey man, nice traps" a heavily-accented voice said. It took me a while to realize that Black Hulk has just spoken, and, further, that he was referring to... me! "Uh... fuck. I mean... uh... thanks" I stammered. "I'm... I'm Kris... I'm... uh... sorry, I... big fan... I... I..." "No need to be shy around me, Kris" he grinned, his teeth's sparkling whiteness contrasting sharply with his dark black supermuscular body. "You must work out? I like your traps a lot." Black Hulk is complementing ME? Wow, this must be a dream. "Uh, thanks, uh, yes, I do..." That was all my brain could muster. "You've got a nice package down there too", he continued, grinning even wider. Instinctively, I turned beet red, and tried to cover my erect genitals. Damn, I must be so erect that he could notice from above the water. "You are indeed a big fan." he continued. "Am I responsible for some of your orgasms?" "ALL of them" I blurted out loud. "Since your first Mr. Olympia win, I haven't orgasmed to any human being except you." That was the brutally honest truth. "Good. I like sexy fans like you. You here to see me win another Olympia, right?" "Yes... yes I am. Nobody comes close to your hypermuscular body." "Indeed, nobody does." He climbed out of the water. "Come here. Feel my body. I don't bite." Suddenly, like a wild animal overcame with lust, I jumped out of the pool and started squeezing all of his bodyparts. Those traps, that seemed to go all the way level to his ears. That barrell neck, thicker than the circumference of his head. Those huge shoulders, so monumentally massive and defined. Those impossible biceps, that, even relaxed, seemed like somebody had stuffed a melon inside them. Those triceps, that protuded so far out of his arms that they almost looked like biceps. Those forearms, so incredibly thick, thicker than a normal man's legs. Those pectorals, incomprehensibly thick and full shelves of muscular power. Those abdominals, looking and feeling like eight slabs of diamond-hard bricks on his tapered down waist. Those lats, popping out so ridiculously wide of his back that they seemed like almost having a life of their own. That unbelievable back, so thick and defined and wide and massive. Those quads, impossibly muscular and immense, so massively muscled that I couldn't even hug one. Those calves, scarcely comprehensible slabs of meat, each bigger than my own pecs. Those glutes, protruding out of his hips even more than his monstrous back muscles. Every single bodypart of this incredible human specimen required your constant attention and worship. I found myself squeezing, feeling, massaging, sometimes even licking each and every one of his bodyparts. "Mmm, you really like my body, don't you Kris? This year, I weigh 440lbs, 4% bodyfat. That's another 20lbs more than last year's Mr. O." He moaned contentedly. I was slowly turning him on. "How do you do it, Black Hulk?" I asked him I licked one of his nipples, then continued "I mean, I'm proud of my 5'9, 190lbs body, but I have to work really hard to stay in shape. You look godlike all the time. I'm squeezing as hard as I can and it feels like squeezing a marble statue." "Man, you want my body so bad. Your lust for me is actually turning me on" moaned the superbodybuilder. "Let's go to my room. It's more private." He dried off, and re-wrapped his towel around his waist. Even like this, the towel was slightly tented... his cock was indeed half-hard. "You sure? I mean... yes, YES" I almost shouted. I hurriedly dried off and wrapped my own towel around my waist, concealing my own totally erect cock that had been straining my swimtrunks for the past half an hour. As we were leaving, a family entered the pool premises. The mother and the father were shocked by the dimensions of my idol, and they were relieved that we were leaving. Their son, who couldn't have been older than 7 years old, pointed at him and said "Look, Mommy, it's the Hulk!" We exited the pool amid the voices of the mother and father trying to explain to their kid that my idol wasn't the Hulk because his skin wasn't green. It took us around five minutes to reach his room at the twenty-first floor. During those five minutes, a million thoughts raced through my head. Are we going to have sex? Will this be just a worship session? Am I dreaming? Whatever it was, I thought how blessed I was to be with the man of my dreams, even if this was, indeed, a dream. We entered his room, and I closed the door. The room was huge, almost like an apartment. I was marveling at the beauty and size of the room, when I felt him hugging me from my back. Then he whispered, in that sexy accent of his, "Let me give you a pre-show." He allowed me to turn around. His cock and balls were now visibly straining his swimtrunks more than before. He started to practice his posing routine in front of me. Now I already described to you his incredibly huge muscles, how massively thick, huge, hard, and bulging they were. That was when he was relaxed. When flexing them, his muscles really came alive. When he did a crab pose, his already enormous and thick pecs inflated outwards like balloons, except that they were even harder than before. I found myself getting so hard that I had to take off my swimtrunks, because they were hurting. He slightly gasped when he saw my erect cock, probably because it was leaking precum. He did a back pose, copying Ronnie Coleman's signature pose, where he would spread his lats more and more, until he reaches their maximum spread. Except this man's back was infinitely thicker and infinitely wider, to the point where, in his final lat spread pose, his fists couldn't even reach his relatively small waist. I moaned slightly in response, as my precum was forming a small puddle below me. He then turned sideways, and here his absurd thickness was made clear. My eyes traced through his neck and traps, going outwards through his immense back muscles and monstrous pecs, to then narrow down to his waist and well-muscled abs, to then stretch out absurdly by his impossibly thick glutes and monumental quads. He started doing his signature pose, where he slowly flexed his right bicep, making it turn from a melon, to a bowling ball, to a watermelon. As my eyes bugged out, witnessing the incredible flexing of his bicep, I was absolutely sure that bicep couldn't grow any bigger, but then he grinned and effortlessly flexed it further, making it probably as big as a basketball. I lost it; I started to cum powerfully all over myself, at the sight of this incredible display of musculature, all without ever touching my dick. So powerful was my orgasm that most of my cum hit his forearm, bicep and right quad, even though I was a good two feet away from him. My cock was an erupting volcano that was being kept in check for far too long, resulting in a more massive eruption than usual. My orgasm took about seven seconds to complete. It was, easily, my most satisfying orgasm ever. "God, that's so hot" he murmured, as he scrambled to remove his own swimtrunk, which only succeeded in tearing it off his hulking body. His own cock was now rock hard. "I made you cum just by flexing my muscles... that's the hottest thing I've ever witnessed." he moaned. His cock was covering his navel and his midsection, probably around a foot long and as thick as my wrist... no, probably even thicker. His balls hung low, and looked as big as the rest of him. I came closer to him, rubbing my own cum along his quads, then my left hand cupped his balls. They must have easily been five times bigger than mine, maybe even six. My right hand managed to just encompass the huge girth of his erect cock. Then I started to stroke it, caress it, marveling at its incredible size. "Harder, Kris. Use your full strength with me! Do not hold back!" the massive superbodybuilder implored. "Yes, yes, certainly, I apologize, Black Hulk." "Do not apologize. I like you a lot, Kris. Nobody has ever turned me on as much as you have done today." I started to nibble on his left nipple, which was almost the size of a small penis, while I simultaneously pinched his right nipple and jerked his amazing cock with my hands. He moaned in delight. "Ohh yes, you're good at this" Black Hulk moaned. I'm GOOD at this? This is my very first sexual encounter with anyone, and fate wanted that my very first sex session was to be with the biggest, most muscular bodybuilder on the planet. "Please, don't stop" he continued. I rubbed my hands against his abs, with all my might, in the meantime licking and biting them. I tasted his savoury sweat and a bit of my own cum. His huge cock became even bigger, as it almost hit my head. "FUCK, that's it, I HAVE to fuck you," he roared. He lifted me up like I was a rag doll. He let me face his gigantic upper body while pointing his giant dickhead towards my ass. "Hold on, hold on, Black Hulk! Please... please... be gentle... this is my first time." I felt his massive dickhead penetrating me. Surprisingly, it didn't feel as uncomfortable as I thought. Using just a fraction of his hulk-like strength, he pushed inside me, using his own precum as lubricant, until most of his cock was in. "Relax," he whispered in my ear. "Let go of me, balance on my cock alone, feel how even my cock is super powerful." I did as he told me, and indeed, his cock managed to support my entire weight. I also felt some liquid squirting inside my ass. "Are you... cumming?" I asked him. "That's my precum, Kris. It squirts as far as most people's cumshots. It will help with keeping your insides nice and moist for my cock to slide easily." "Wow, you're amazing, Black Hulk!" I hadn't finished saying this completely... he grabbed my ass and pushed his cock partially out of my hole and pushed it back in, slowly. "Did that hurt?" he asked. "No, no." "Good. Enjoy the ride. Cling to wherever of my body you like!" I grabbed his giant pecs as he started fucking me, first slowly, then faster and faster. At some points, he was almost hitting my prostate. My dick went rock hard again, as I realized that I was completely at this monstrous hulk's mercy. Soon, he started to moan louder, and his body started to glisten with sweat. His glistening muscles flexed several times as he edged closer to orgasm. Then he hit my prostate, sending me into an instinctive orgasm, and... "Oh GOD, Kris, I'm CUMMING... OH... OOOHHHOOHHH... Fuck YEAH!" My butt was blasted repeatedly with this incredible man's cum, in an orgasm that must have taken a full minute. Then, slowly, it abated, and his breathing became more normal. "Ohh... phew, that felt really good Kris." He disengaged his cock off my ass. Surprisingly, none of his cum rolled out of my butthole, and I did not feel bloated or anything. "Uh... where did your cum go?" I asked him. "Is this normal?" "I honestly have no idea" he told me, concerned. Then it hit me. A massive spasm all over my abdomen. Then all over me. Then it went as quickly as it came. Perhaps it took two seconds, tops. "Fuck, what was that?" we asked, together. ---------------- Chapter 2: Mysterious Bodily Reactions We looked at each other, stunned. "Did... did it hurt?" the overly-muscular black bodybuilder asked, after a protruded silence. "No, no. It felt... weird, though. Like there was something inside me stretching my body parts. But now, I feel fine." "You sure?" the muscle monster mused. "Really, Henk, I do." It was the first time I called him by his real name. The hulking muscleman smiled faintly, in approval. "Look, today has been unbelievable getting to... know you better, Henk. You fulfilled my utmost dreams, and more. I'll never forget this day, ever. But now, I'm sure you need to prepare for tomorrow's prejudging and Saturday's contest." "Yes, I do, Kris. But I have an offer for you. Would you want to be backstage tomorrow and Sunday, with me?" "You're kidding? I'd really, REALLY love to! But, I'm not, uh, very well-acquainted with... being back-stage." "I just need you to apply oil on my body. You know, to make my muscles show more. I'm sure you'll do very well in that regard, after how you worshipped me earlier." The huge muscleman winked and grinned. "The rest, leave it up to me. You in?" Rubbing Black Hulk's giant muscles with oil? Who in their right mind would refuse such an offer? "Of COURSE I'm in! I'm just afraid that I'll be turned on all the time by your..." "Good. That's exactly what I want." Black Hulk grinned again. His grin is so hot, I thought: pure white teeth atop a sea of bulging black muscles. "What do you mean?" "You'll see tomorrow." I wanted to ask him why such a successful bodybuilder does not have a team of trainers, nutritionists, sponsors and spokespersons, but I decided not to raise this issue. Still, this IS a little weird. He seems to be all alone in this hotel, after all. The other Mr. Olympia contestants are probably answering questions in press conferences, whereas Black Hulk is in a hotel fucking a stranger... "Oh, and another thing. You're free to come to my room any time while you're staying in this hotel," continued the multiple Mr. O. winner. "Likewise, Henk. Listen, I'm starving. Shall we get something to eat?" "Yes, there's a buffet going on. It started while we were... swimming", the massive black bodybuilder winked. "Let me shower first. I still stink of your cum." He laughed. "Okay, I guess I'll go shower in my room and come back," I said. "No you won't," the immense muscle mountain quipped. He lifted me up with one arm. "You'll shower with me. Why waste water? Besides, you can lather my back much better than I can." "Oh, I can lather every INCH of you, not just your back" I moaned, getting horny again at the prospect of showering with the man of my dreams. He carried me to the shower, and opened the water. We lathered each other. He was right: his upper body was so wide that he couldn't ever lather himself at various places. I paid extra attention to each of his bodyparts, rubbing them with shower gel repeatedly. Even though I had orgasmed twice in the past half an hour, I found myself getting hopelessly horny again. He showed me his massive biceps again, flexing them for me, making them basketballs of power. "Fuck, man, those biceps, they make me rock hard every time. They're so FUCKING immense," I moaned. He placed my cock between his super thick left forearm and his giant left bicep, and flexed the bicep around my cock. Needless to say, this had a very quick effect: my cock blasted another copious amount of cum all over him. He smiled. "It's my turn now" I told him, as I recovered from my third orgasm in thirty five minutes. I grabbed his cock and gave him a good handjob. The cock rose to its barely-believable length and girth. Then I took his cockhead in my mouth; it was as big as a fucking apple. I sucked him as hard as I could, while simultaneously jerking it off with all my might and fondling his oversized balls. He started to moan louder and louder, until finally I was rewarded with a mighty roar, accompanied by a large stream of cum blasting out of his cock, hitting the sides of the shower with impressive force. His orgasm took about half a minute to abate, which was incredibly amazing, considering that only half an hour before he was spraying cum for an entire minute. We finally headed off the shower. I dried off and wrapped my towel around myself, when I noticed something. "Hey look, that's weird... I don't have any hair anymore! Like, no hair on my chest, my forearms, my legs, my armpits... I don't even have pubic hair!" I touched my head and face. My hair and stubble were still there, thankfully. "Hmm... that IS strange..." the black muscleman mused. "You're... you're kinda like me, now, with no hair below your neck at all." "That's different - you probably waxed it for the contest. Right?" "Uh, actually I didn't. I don't have any hair on my body. Below my head, that is. Maybe... that's what your spasms did to you earlier... still, why would your bodyhair disappear so quickly?" The overly-sized muscleman was deep in thought. "Don't worry about it. I'll get used to it. And, maybe it'll grow again. I'll pop out to my room to wear something. We'll meet near the elevator," I said. A few minutes later. I was next to the elevator, wearing shirt and trousers. I saw him coming, and was stunned again. He was wearing a white T-shirt with the words 'BLACK HULK' embroidered in black, and blue shorts. However, they were so tight on his bulging mountains of muscle that all of his muscle beneath the fabric could easily be traced, including not only his immense pecs, but also his abdominals and his nipples. His shorts expanded ridiculously around his superhuge quads and glutes, each overinflated muscle group threatening to rip it off at any moment. "Jesus, Henk, your clothes leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, don't they?" I murmured. "They don't. I had made these to order when I was 410lbs, a year and a half ago. Now that I'm 440lbs, they are juuuust a little bit tight," he teased. We entered the restaurant and took a plateful of the buffet food. People actually stopped and stared at the huge muscleman. Some murmured something to themselves, others turned to their friends and nudged them to take a look at Henk. I felt proud that I was next to him. Nobody in the whole world has an amorous partner as hot as mine. I was really starving, so I visited the buffet several times, like four or five times. The massive bodybuilder did likewise. I noticed that he was not much choosy with his food; he was eating carbs, protein, fibre, milk products... he was enjoying everything. That's weird, I thought: this guy is going to be in the world's biggest bodybuilding contest tomorrow, and he's not even trying to eat well for it. What I soon found weirder was how my appetite was not satiated, even after eating 7 platefuls of food. Even Henk said he was full after taking seven plates of delicious food. On the other hand, my stomach felt like I barely even started. "Man, you eat even more than I do... that's impressive," the black muscle mountain mused. "I'm surprising even myself... I usually just take three plates, tops, including dessert," I said. "What's happening to me? I'm still starving!" "I honestly have no idea... good thing we have this buffet going on... you can keep eating without paying extra!" Black Hulk said, glancing towards another table. Looking in the direction he was glancing at, there was a young woman sitting down, eyeing both of us, but especially staring at my idol. "You know her?" I whispered. "I don't think I do," confessed the huge bodybuilder. "She wants me badly, though, judging by how she's looking at me. I know that look. Bet her panties are soaking wet!" He laughed faintly at his own joke. "I'll go get another plate of food," I said. "Cool. I'm good. I'll wait for you." As I filled my plate for the eighth time, I actually felt a little bit jealous. But then I remembered that his superhuman musclegod is a well-known pornstar... it is to be expected that he's not into one stable sex partner. Just then, I noticed the top button of my shirt had popped off. That's strange... even my sleeves are filled more than before. It seems like my body is getting bigger. Well, of course it is... I must have eaten close to 8000 calories in the past hour or so. But, my waist was still as trim as ever... it's like the extra weight has gone to my... pecs and arms? I went back to my restaurant seat, noticing that, in the meantime, Black Hulk was in the company of the girl that was eyeing him earlier. "Uh, excuse me, I'll go to the bathroom quick," I quipped, then immediately raced to the bathroom close by. * * * Everyone gasped when he entered. He swaggered slowly to a restaurant seat, accompanied by a man who must have been in his mid-twenties. This was not odd, since we were in the restaurant buffet room, me and around six or seven strangers. What made everyone gasp was the sheer amount of muscular development the former man's body was presenting to our senses. To me, those muscles were instantly recognizable. They belonged to Henk Kuria, or, as everyone in the porn industry called him, Black Hulk. This guy was, in a word, freaky. I've always secretly loved professional bodybuilders. My female friends somehow always found them 'gross' or 'disgusting', and, in front of them, I agreed. But, secretly, I get wet whenever an overly muscular man flashes past my eyes. And Black Hulk wasn't just overly muscular. He was, like, twice as big as the biggest pros. This guy's muscles were astonishingly huge... really, there was no comparison. It was like his muscles had muscles of their own. And he was BLACK. I LOOOVE black men. They look so virile. His skin was really, really dark, too; he was one of the blackest men I had ever witnessed. That made him even hotter, in my books. I had searched for his name ever since I stumbled upon the first porno I watched that featured him. He fucked Lela Star senseless in that porn flick, and the poor girl with the comically enhanced butt just didn't know what hit her. She must have felt like she was being fucked by a bulldozer. And then, his orgasm, showering all over her body... his cumshot was easily that of 10 men combined. After that flick, Lela Star actually took a six month break from porn, citing 'personal issues'. But the stage was set. Black Hulk had stolen her limelight, and that light is still shining brightly. Indeed, he not only shot several other porn flicks, with men, women, or both at once, but he became even bigger, and his orgasms even longer and more powerful. Some people started to question how real his orgasms were, although most did not care. The porn industry made sure to mention that none of what they're filming was staged or faked. And, in most nights, I end up shoving a cucumber in my pussy, fucking myself furiously, wishing that cucumber was Black Hulk fucking me into oblivion as I watch him on my phone in my bed. Anyway, Black Hulk is here, a few feet away from me. For some reason, he happens to be in the same hotel I'm in. Maybe for a new porno shoot? Who knows. I was staring at him. He was wearing a white T-shirt, with the words 'BLACK' and 'HULK'. The word 'BLACK' was stretched all around the top of his enormous pectorals, while the word 'HULK' was below it, in the middle, with his two nipples on either side of the word. Fuck, his T-shirt was so tight that even his nipples were visible; that's insane. His pectorals must be much bigger than my own breasts. That's really saying something, as I wear a 34M cup size. I'm a chubby 5'7, 175lbs woman with a 48-32-40 figure. You either love or hate my body. Some guys find me disgustingly fat, while others just adore my voluptuous body. I've had a few one-night stands with men from the latter category, and they have honestly given me much-needed self-confidence about my body. This made me accept what God has given me, and now I flaunt what I have, rather than try to hide it. Which is what this incredible male specimen a few feet from me certainly does; that T-shirt he's wearing just makes him flaunt the godlike upper body he has. Fuck, he's even hotter up close than in the pornos. My juices were flowing. Just then, the guy he was with him stood up to take another plate. I decided to show slightly more cleavage, to see if the giant black bodybuilder noticed. He did, and smiled. I smiled back, then stood up and came next to him. "Hi, I'm Chloe, nice to meet you, Black Hulk." I extended my hand. He took it and kissed it. "Likewise, Chloe. I'm Henk. You've got a very naturally beautiful body, miss." He smiled. "Thank you. Nowhere near close to your magnificence, though," I said, my heart racing. He likes me. Helikesmehelikesmehelikesmehelikesmeeee... "You're a fan, Chloe?" asked the god, known to us mortals as Black Hulk. "Yes. Big fan of your, uh... movies. Big fan of your huge muscles. You're the best!" I enthused. "Thanks, dear. On holiday?" "No, business trip. I'm a journalist, working for the website CoolnHot.com. I'm assigned to write an article about the gambling and entertainment industry here in Vegas, by witnessing them first-hand. I return home tomorrow morning. You?" "I'm here to win the Mr. Olympia contest for the fourth time." I stared at him blankly. I never heard of a Mr. Olympia contest before. "What's that... a pornstar award?" I asked, innocently. Black Hulk laughed. "No, no. It's the biggest bodybuilding contest in the world. I've won it three times already. I'm here to win it for the fourth time. It starts tomorrow and ends Saturday." Just then, Black Hulk's friend returned, and told us he was going to the bathroom. He left the plate on the table and rushed away to the lavatory. "Who is he?" I asked, curious. "He's Kris. A REALLY good friend. He's responsible for making me look good during the contest while I'm backstage. Mostly by rubbing oil on my body." Wow, I'd love to do that, I thought. "You'd like to do that, don't you?" the massive muscleman asked, grinning. "Uh... yeah... admittedly, I'd love to." How did he know what I was thinking? Am I really that easy to read? "Then come to my room... I will let you do that, and more." He winked at me and smiled again, flashing those pure white, sparking teeth. "That's if you've finished eating, of course," he added. "No, no... I'm finished. But... what about your good friend... Kris?" "I'll just leave a note on the table that I had to leave suddenly. Come on, I'll pay for your meal." Just then, he stood up. "Oh, uh, you don't..." I stopped midway through speaking, as I witnessed his 6'4, 440lbs supermuscular frame towering over me. "I mean, uh, thanks," I corrected myself. The black god endowed with the most immense muscles I had ever seen went to the counter and paid for three meals. He then scribbled a note and left it on the table. I was actually impressed that his thick, muscular fingers could still hold a pen relatively easily. "Let's go, my room is in the twenty-first floor," Black Hulk cooed. People stared at us as they walked out of the restaurant and into the elevator. My panties were practically soaked now. I was worried that some wet spot would be visible down my dress, especially since there was another couple with us in the elevator. Their eyes bugged out when they saw the mountain of muscle that was with me. I felt proud of my catch tonight... I was sure this one-night stand will be my best one ever. We arrived at his room. I guess it was some kind of executive suite, because it was much larger and spacious than my room. I closed the door behind me, and immediately sneaked in his bathroom, removing all my clothes. I was never so wet and horny in my life. I tiptoed out, and, before he had even turned around from placing the door key on the desk, I rubbed his massive back, and whispered: "Ready when you are, Black Hulk." ---------------- Chapter 3: Chloe Sex and Muscle Growth He turned around, surprised at my directness. His deep brown eyes scanned my naked body from top to bottom. They approved of what they saw. "I'm always ready, Chloe. You have a very curvy, beautiful body. It reminds me of the beautiful women from my home country. Except your white skin, which I find very appealing," the muscular pornstar said. He put his well-muscled arms around my nude lower back, inviting me to draw myself even closer to his titanic body. I gladly accepted the invitation, and began to grind my entire body, especially my ample breasts, against his hulking, bulging muscles. My head could only reach his monstrous pectorals, so I cradled it between them. He moved his hands towards my round butt, and squeezed them. Being so close to him, I felt his cock starting to stir. "You like my ass, huh?" I cooed as I lifted his T-shirt, willing him to remove it. This exposed his fantastically muscled eight-pack abdominals. I started to squeeze them, but they felt like hard bricks. They were so thick that I could insert my entire index finger in the space between each of the brick-like abdominals. "Holy cow, you're a fucking muscle brick shit-house. Your muscles are even bigger than they look in your pornos," I continued, in absolute amazement. He said nothing; he only grinned at me. Then, his right hand moved towards his T-shirt. Tugging it from the bottom, he tore it off his ridiculously overdeveloped upper body like he had been tearing off toilet paper. His entire upper body was now exposed, and I almost fainted. From the position I was, I could see two enormous orbs of pectoral muscles, each as big as a gravel sack. I rubbed them slowly. They were dense, thick slabs of power; no wonder he could rip off this oversized, yet barely-fitting T-shirt so incredibly easily. The minimal effort he produced to tear off his T-shirt off his body made his arm visibly bounce... it looked as big as one of my buckets I use when I wash my apartment's floor. It was my turn to get speechless. I felt my vaginal fluids roll down the inside of my thighs - I was THAT turned on. My breathing grew heavier. He then gently lifted me up, so that my eyes were level with his. His grin was confident, cocky. He was definitely my first one-night stand that could lift me up so easily, as if my curvy, 175lbs body was as heavy as a book, to him. He lowered his head and sucked my right nipple, which I felt was as big as one of my lipstick bullets. Instinctively, I lowered my head back in ecstasy, as I felt his lips leave my right nipple to plant themselves on my left. I started moaning loudly, wishing him to ravage my pussy with that huge cock of his, that 10 inch monster I always fantasized would, one day, be sliding inside MY pussy instead of the pussy of some random plastic-surgery-filled pornstar. He placed me back on the floor. My eyes were transfixed on the ridiculous bulge between his massive thighs. He removed his shorts, freeing his massive cock from its confines. It immediately sprang upwards, hitting my abdomen in the process, then started to lengthen and thicken further. He had no pants beneath the shorts. Finally, the magnificent dick eased its growth. It pointed directly to my face; I imagined it telling me that, since I was responsible for waking it up, it was going to fuck me really hard. It looked bigger than 10 inches, and thicker than the cucumber I practise with when watching his porn flicks. My sexual arousal has never been this high. My mind was completely blown away by this god. I felt my juices trickle down my thigh and reaching my knees. "You told me 'ready when you are' earlier. Well, I'm definitely ready NOW," Black Hulk announced. He lifted me with one arm and placed me on his bed in a doggy position, with my ample butt facing him. I then waited for him to insert his giant black fuckstick inside my waiting pussy. I felt him do precisely that a moment later. His cock felt really hard and filled up my vaginal walls completely, but I was so well lubricated that there was no pain at all, just ecstasy. "Oh God, you're so big, you fill me up so much. Fuck me, fuck me HARD!" I shouted in delirium. He didn't need my compliance. I felt his hands grab my ass, then he started to fuck me senseless. Each push of his cock inside me felt like a mini-orgasm. I started shouting obscenities, strings of dirty vulgarities that my mind was stringing up there and then. I was nearing an earth-shattering orgasm, so my slurs were becoming more and more high-pitched. In response, he fucked me faster. That was it: my eyes rolled backwards and my mouth made an exaggerated 'OOOOOOOHHHHHH' shape as I climaxed powerfully, my vocal chords trying to keep up with the intensity of my orgasm. He slowed down, waiting for my orgasm to subside, then picked up the pace once again. I felt his cock throbbing even bigger inside me, probably triggered by my insane climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuckk, FFFUUUUUCCKKKKK OOOOOHOHOHHHHOHOHHH GODDDDDDDD FUUUUUUUUUUCK YEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!" I shouted as another orgasm hit my senses. He slowed down again, then restarted his relentless pussy drilling with that insane cock he has. I've seen him do it several times in his porn movies; how he'd fuck a girl repeatedly, sending her into countless orgasms, until she literally couldn't take any more, and then, and only then, he ejaculates. I used to think that a lot of editing was involved for that to truly happen. It turns out no editing was required; this man, or should I say, god, knew how to please a woman in a complete, entire way. "Fuck... fuck... Hulk... HULK... BLACK HULK... PLEASE... no more... oh god... you're so good... but please... no more... that's more than enough... fuck... so much cock..." I finally told him after my latest mind-blowing orgasm. I must have orgasmed eight, nine, ten times, I don't remember. He slowed down, then proceeded to slide his cock off my pussy. "No, Black Hulk, what are you doing? I want you to fill my pussy up with your seed." "You sure?" "Yes, I am. I'm on the pill, and I've had my period six days ago. It's safe. Please fill me up with your seed. I beg you. It would make me complete." Black Hulk obliged. He inserted his still rock hard, massive cock inside my vagina. He started to fuck me yet again, but this time, his technique was subtly different. This time, he was doing this to pleasure himself, not myself. Soon I heard him moan louder and louder. I figured he was getting close to orgasm, as his fucks became quicker and more powerful. Finally, I felt him insert his cock completely inside me, almost together with half of his balls, and he roared loudly. I felt my pussy being blasted by an incomprehensible amount of cum. His orgasm lingered on for what seemed like a full minute. During this time, his cock was spewing cum non-stop. I felt my belly actually expand a little bit as my internal organs tried to accommodate this insane amount of cum that was being introduced to them. Finally, his orgasm abated, and he sighed contently. My belly went back to its usual form, and he disengaged his gigantic organ off my vagina. I turned round slowly on the bed to face him. He was covered in sweat, which I found really hot. I opened my legs to allow some of his cum flow out of my vagina, but, surprisingly, none did. "Hey, what the hell? Where did all that cum go?" "I... I have no idea," Black Hulk said. He looked concerned. Then, I suddenly felt it. A massive spasm all over my abdomen. Then another one all over me. Then several spasms, one after the other, shaking my entire body. I continued spasming like this, for what seemed like an eternity. During all this time, I couldn't speak, nor move, nor do anything except spasming, although I was completely conscious. Then, finally, as I was expecting another spasm hitting me, it did not come. I waited and waited, but nothing happened. I must have spasmed for, like, an entire minute. Black Hulk looked at me, and uttered "Oh my god!" * * * I went back to my restaurant seat, noticing that, in the meantime, Black Hulk was in the company of the girl that was eyeing him earlier. "Uh, excuse me, I'll go to the bathroom quick," I quipped, then immediately raced to the bathroom close by. I looked in the mirror. My pecs were definitely bigger. I felt them, and confirmed my suspicion: they were not only bigger, but firmer, denser. Removing the remaining buttons of my shirt, my eyes analysed my abdominals. They looked more defined. My arms looked like they were tighter around my half-sleeve, too, and, although I wasn't feeling uncomfortable yet, my trousers looked tighter around my quads. I smiled. I redid the buttons of my shirt - well, all of them except the top one, which popped earlier - and went back to the restaurant. Strangely, my massive bodybuilding friend was nowhere to be seen. When I went back to our table, there was a note: "Something came up. I paid for your meal. See you tomorrow. BLACK HULK." Something came up, huh? He's probably fondling that bitch's huge boobs right now. Oh well, he's a pornstar, after all... I wolfed down the plate that I had filled up earlier, the one I had left on the table. I was still hungry. Like, REALLY hungry. I revisited the buffet table many other times. Each time, I devoured the food like I had not eaten for weeks. After five more plates, another button popped off my shirt. I decided to undo all the buttons at this point. People were leaving the restaurant, it was getting late. I continued to relentlessly gulp down plateful after plateful of food, amid occasional tears of fabric from my short sleeves or trousers. Finally, after eating about 30 plates of food, I was satiated. Mind you, it felt like I've just eaten a salad, but, at least, I wasn't hungry anymore. I stood up to leave, when the kitchen staff manager stopped me. "Sir, you have to pay." "Uh, my friend paid for my meal already." "Yes, he did," he explained, glancing at my upper body, partly concealed by my tattered shirt, then at my face again. "But, uh, you ate much, much more food than I had ever seen in my twelve years of being head of this restaurant. So we thought that, uh, you'd pay again? It would still be a bargain for you, you know." He sounded sheepish, which was something I never got from other people before. It was as if he was afraid talking to me. "Uh, sure, I understand. Here, I'll pay twice as much as the price bill. You deserve it, the food was delicious." My hands reached out for my wallet. In doing so, my right bicep involuntarily flexed, causing my right sleeve to rip completely. The restaurant manager gulped. "No, no, no... uh, you know what, we're fine. We're glad our service was to your satisfaction. We're good. You may leave." "Take this as a tip," I insisted, handing him seventy dollars. "And I'll be sure to recommend your restaurant to my friends." "Thank you, sir. Much appreciated." He took the money and hurried back to the kitchen, relieved. I proceeded to go back to my room. People stared at me as I walked. Part of my shirt and trousers were in tatters, so I thought that's why people were staring. I arrived at my room, removed my clothes, and looked at the bathroom mirror. The reflection depicted on the mirror shocked me. I looked like a professional bodybuilder. My muscles, even relaxed, were round and hard. Nowhere close in size as those of Black Hulk, but easily as big as those of the bodybuilders from the noughties era. I looked like Jay Cutler in his prime. No wonder people were staring at me, and no wonder that restaurant manager was stuttering. I started flexing, and my muscles responded beautifully. My biceps were particularly huge, perfect peaks of muscle flesh. My pectorals were thick and heavy. My abdominals were massive and well-defined. My quads were twice as big as before, and even my cock looked bigger. I felt it grow and harden as my eyes feasted on my own, hot, muscular body. I marveled at its size... easily two inches bigger than before, both in length and in circumference, and completely hairless - like the rest of me. My balls felt fuller and bigger, too. I then noticed a bathroom scale tucked away in the corner of the hotel room. I reached out for it, and stepped on it. My eyes couldn't believe it when the needle stopped at... 260lbs. My brain was trying to comprehend my new mass. Even if I assumed that the scales were not calibrated correctly, it still meant that I had somehow gained 70lbs of mass in a few hours. Even weirder, from what I saw in the mirror, all of this mass was added to my muscles and cock, and none of it went in my body as fat. "Wow," I finally gasped. "I look incredible." But, what caused this? My mind started to recall the earlier events of the day. Then I remembered. The spasms. The cum somehow magically disappearing inside me. Black Hulk! His cum must have done this to me. I didn't mind this at all, of course. In fact, I was grateful for this gift that he gave me. But, I had to go back to his room to have some answers. Problem was, I did not know what I was going to wear. Nothing fit me. I then decided to wear the swimpants I was wearing in the pool earlier. It was still wet, so I wrapped a towel round my waist. People won't ask too many questions, seeing me like this. It would look like I was going for a late pool dip. I arrived at his room. As I was going to knock on his door, I heard muffled voices speaking inside. One of them was of a lady, and she sounded upset about something. Then I heard Black Hulk's voice, seemingly trying to calm her down and reassure her. In the next few minutes, her voice took a different tone, and she seemed much more amiable. I heard them approach the door. "My clothes still fit me," I thought I heard the lady say. "I look really hot!" "You were hot before, too," I heard Black Hulk's voice say, "only now you're even hotter." "I'm ready. Let's go," she said. I decided to knock on the door, otherwise I'd be accused of overhearing their conversation. "It's me, Kris. Am I disturbing?" The door opened. Black Hulk was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, identical to those he wore with me at the restaurants, but, this time, the colours were inverted: the T-shirt was blue and the shorts were white. Then a lady appeared, who I recognized as the woman we met at the restaurant. She looked slightly different, but I couldn't put a finger into how. "Uh, hi Kris. This is Chloe. We were just... OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?" ---------------- Chapter 4: Chloe's Transformation "I grew." I flexed a bicep. With little effort, it became as big as a grapefruit. "I grew a LOT," I continued. "And I wanted to ask YOU, man, what happened to ME, because YOU caused this." "Don't waste time, sexy," the girl who Black Hulk introduced as Chloe mused, "I have already asked him how he did THIS to ME, but he claims he does not know." With that, she lifted her dress, and I gasped. Her breasts were still really big, but now her belly was gone. Instead of it, she had a flat stomach, with visible, but faint, abdominals. Her arms looked narrower and more toned, as did her legs. "He transformed me into a fitness model," she continued, "just by, uh, having sex with me. I started to spasm uncontrollably, and when that was over, my body fat had melted, except for the fat in my breasts and butt." Wow, I thought to myself. What the fuck? "Listen, I already told you that I don't know what's happening. It's the truth," the immensely musclebound, black musclegod said. "And you - and I -love your new look, anyway." "That's besides the point. I look too hot, now, to work in any normal job. Do you think I can continue to be a journalist with a body like this?" she said. "I told you already, you can be my spokesperson. And you agreed, didn't you?" Black Hulk replied. "Yes, I did. And I'm looking forward to it. It gives me an amazing opportunity to be close to you. Although," turning to me, "Your friend Kris here is HOTTT too. Wow, look at that body!" "Thanks, Chloe, but if you're trying to seduce me, it's not working. That's not how I swing. Sorry to disappoint," I smiled. Honestly, however, she did look incredible. Perhaps I could make an exception with her... "Pity," she uttered. Then she changed the subject. "I'm starving to death here. Let's go eat something. Isn't that why we were leaving?", she said, as she lowered her dress again. "Hold on a minute," I said. "What did you say? You're hungry?" "Awfully so. I feel like I haven't eaten for an entire month," she answered. "Well, the same thing happened to me. I don't know if this super muscle god," - referring to Black Hulk - "told you, but we had steamy hot sex earlier today." I stopped, reminiscing those incredible, orgasming moments. "Anyway, my body also spasmed a bit, though only for a couple of seconds. Also, all of my body hair disappeared. Then, I started feeling REALLY hungry. I've just finished eating, actually. More than thirty platefuls of buffet food. And I could eat more, if I wanted to... after all that food, I feel like I've eaten a salad. That is how I got all these muscles." "Wait, so... if I eat, I'll grow muscles?" she mused. "Probably. Judging from what happened to me, anyway." Turning to the massive bodybuilder, I said, "that's why I came to your room, Henk, to demand an explanation." "And I don't have any," Black Hulk said. "I'll repeat what I said to Chloe. I'm as puzzled by what happened to each of you as you are. Honest to God." "So, let me get this straight. If I eat, I'll become big and muscular?" Chloe repeated. "This fitness body is hot, and I can certainly live with it. But, me being huge and buff, like both of you... I don't know if I can handle that. But... I'm SOOOO hungry, dammit!" "Look, uh, maybe it doesn't work the same way for women as it does for men" said the black, musclebound god, to try to calm down the situation. "Come on, let's go. I know of a place close by that offers huge servings; if you eat it all, you get it for free. You need to eat first, Chloe, then worry about what you look like later." "So THAT's how you solve this problem, huh?" snapped the lady. "I eat first, then worry about how I look like later?" "Have you got a better idea?" the insanely muscular hulking man answered, quietly. Then he continued, "Look, if it helps, I did not want to be this big, either. But I did become this big, and I learned to embrace my body." "What do you mean?" I interjected. "You started going to the gym to get bigger, right?" Black Hulk paused. Both my pair of eyes and Chloe's were on his. For once, we were not looking at his outrageously muscular body stretching his T-shirt and shorts to their absolute limits. Then, he broke the silence. "Would you believe me if I told you that I never set foot in any gym in my entire life?" "WHAT???" me and Chloe shouted simultaneously. "Look, man, that's simply not possible," I continued. "Nobody grows a body as huge, dense, and bulging with muscles as the one you possess without lifting stuff. Then again..." I paused, then continued, "nobody grows 70lbs of muscle in a couple of hours, either. So many weird things happened today that what you've just said could also be true!" Black Hulk nodded. "Is that how much you grew?" asked Chloe, still shaken by the events that have unravelled in the past few hours. "Yes. That's how much I grew." I answered. "I weighed 190lbs this morning. Now I weigh 260lbs." "Wow... then I will REALLY become buff, if that happens to me as well," Chloe mused. "Say, I wonder how much I weigh right now." She stepped on the scales, which, unlike those in my room, were actually easily accessible in this one. "Wow, I only weigh 145lbs. I lost 30lbs!" "Really? Then maybe that's what the spasms were doing... they were melting away your fat," I suggested. "Maybe that's why I did not spasm as much as you did, too." She was probably going to retaliate my last suggestion that she was fatter than I was with a tirade of verbal abuse, but then she felt her tight stomach rumble. "Hey, can we continue discussing this later? I kinda need food URGENTLY." "Sure. You're coming with us, Kris?" Black Hulk asked me. "I'd love to, but nothing fits me. Can I lend some clothes?" I asked. "I could, but I'm 6'4 and I outweigh you by almost 200lbs. You're only, like 5'9." "I don't mind. I can still wear something." Black Hulk rummaged in his luggage. "Here, try these," he told me after extracting a yellow, full-sleeved, shirt and black shorts. "I was going to give them to a lucky fan next Sunday. They're from my first ever Mr. O. win, when I was 380lbs. Sorry, that's the smallest item of clothing I've got." I went to his bathroom, and tried them on. They were definitely too big for me, even though I was a veritable bodybuilding specimen myself. But there was nothing better to wear. I adjusted the sleeves to fit on my body as well as possible, and came out of the bathroom. "This will have to do. Let's go." We hurried to the restaurant, which turned out to be a pizza place. The decor contained a few pictures of past Mr. Olympias. In the middle, there was a picture of Black Hulk from last year's contest, triumphantly flexing his left arm, a barely comprehensible basketball of power, and clutching the trophy with his right. Some of the other clients greeted the arrival of the man, who seemed so revered in this restaurant. The owner greeted us, too, and shook Black Hulk's hand. "Good to see you, Paul," the musclegod said to the owner. "This is Kris, and she is Chloe." "Nice to meet you all. Hope you enjoy my food! Today I've got the Black Hulk pizza. We usually serve it to a group of 6 to 8 people. If somebody of you eats it alone, he... or she... gets it for free!" "I accept the challenge," said Chloe promptly. "My, my, lady, you have a huge appetite," smiled Paul the restaurant owner. "Mind you, if you lose the challenge, you'll have to pay for the pizza. It's worth $80, but, since you're a friend of Black Hulk, I'll give you a discount." "She won't lose," said Black Hulk the person, grinning. "Me and Kris here will split another Black Hulk pizza. What do you say, Kris?" "That's fine by me," I said. "I guess we can manage that." "Cool. Two Black Hulks then! One of my servers will be right back in a moment with your pizzas!" He hurried to the kitchen. "Look, Chloe, bill's on me, so don't stress if you lose the challenge," the supermuscular hulk told Chloe, softly. "But, I'm rooting for you!" "I WILL win the challenge! I've never been so hungry! I swear if I don't have food in front of me in fifteen minutes, then I'll eat both of you alive!" She laughed at her own joke. She looked happy, and raring to go. I smiled at her joke. I was happy too. Today's events made me happy. I was grateful for today. In the space of a few hours, Black Hulk turned from a distant idol to a close friend, who gave me an incredible gift; the gift of massive muscle size. Actually, he gave me another gift: the gift of friendship. I looked at him, at that body, and smiled. Shit, looking at his magnificent, supermuscular, bulging body never gets old. My cock stirred in my pants. The pizzas soon arrive. They were indeed HUGE. They couldn't fit together on our table, so one of the servers combined another table close by to ours. The server bringing the pizzas was a girl. She gave one to Chloe and split the other one. "I'm Amanda, your server" said the girl. "I'll be making sure that none of you boys will be helping the lady with her challenge. Especially you, Black Hulk. Pleased to meet you, by the way. You are even bigger than the pictures suggest." "That's what everyone tells me. Pleased to meet you too, Amanda. I'll be a good boy; I won't help Chloe here in any way!" Black Hulk answered, winking at the girl. The moment her pizza was served in front of her, Chloe began wolfing it down. It was a bit hilarious, in a way, seeing this 145lbs, 5'7 woman eating such a huge pizza. Not only was the pizza huge, but it was also topped with lots of ingredients: pepperoni, minced meat, artichoke hearts, tomato, peas, onion, green pepper, olives, and, of course, cheese. Me and my impossibly-muscular friend started to eat ours. The pizza was, indeed, delicious. Chloe was on a mission, eating a quarter of the pizza before we had even eaten our first slice. She didn't say anything, just ate and ate and ate. Amanda, for her part, had her eyes transfixed on Black Hulk. His upper body bounced and flexed involuntarily as he ate the pizza. She saw the bulging pecs and arms, and swallowed hard. She went in a dream-like state, as if she was thinking about a raunchy situation - indeed, her face turned slightly red. "Amanda, you should keep your focus on Chloe here, you know..." the monumental musclegod told her, grinning. "Uh, yes, sure, sure, I'm completely focused on what she's doing," the girl stammered. But she really wasn't, of course. She was mesmerized by Black Hulk, the supermuscular god of male bodybuilding perfection. Chloe was already on the sixth slice of the 16-slice pizza. She had already eaten more than two person's worth of food. By contrast, I was on my third slice, and Black Hulk was on his second. I watched, fascinated. It looked like her dress was slightly tighter around her bosom and shoulders. While eating her eighth slice, there was the sound of tearing fabric. Chloe seemed not to notice, and continued eating. Glancing at her, I noticed that her dress had ripped slightly from her back. She continued to eat and eat, amid more tearing sounds of her clothes. Black Hulk only ate two slices, then said he ate enough. I managed to eat six slices; not bad, considering I had eaten so much only an hour before. Now, however, I was really full. We could only stare at Chloe eating her pizza and, seemingly unbeknownst to her, growing out of her clothes. Meanwhile, the server girl, Amanda, was barely noticing what was happening to Chloe either. She was still apparently daydreaming about Black Hulk's gigantic slabs of muscle being proudly displaying through his overstretched clothing. She couldn't stop staring at him. I saw her grinding her feet together. Wow, Black Hulk's effect on some people is so strong. But, really, I understand Amanda's reaction to him; after all, I had a similar reaction to him, and probably so did Chloe. Chloe was now two slices away from eating an entire Black Hulk pizza. Her eating rate was steady; she never once took a break. I understood better than anyone how she was doing it, since I went through the same thing a few hours before. People were now approaching our table to witness this busty 5'7 woman manage the feat set by the pizza owner. I noticed her arms were now not just toned, but there were clear biceps, and even triceps, where none were before. She was much wider, too, which was part of the reason why her dress was ripping from her back. Finally, she did it. The last morsel of the pizza was consumed. Everyone cheered. Hearing these sudden cheers, Amanda snapped to her senses, and congratulated Chloe. Sensing that her job was done, she hurried back to help with the other tables. "That's amazing, Chloe. You ate a pizza made for 8 people!" I enthused. "I... I'm still hungry. Can I eat what's left of your pizza?" she meekly uttered. I gasped. "Uh... sure, sure. That's okay with you too, right, Henk?" "Yeah, go ahead. Better not let it go to waste. I'll go to the bathroom in the meantime," said the immensely muscular man after which the pizza was named. Just then, Amanda came out with a tray of drinks for some other table, and noticed the enormous bodybuilder walking to the bathroom. She quickly served the table, then hurried to meet Black Hulk before he entered the restroom. He somehow was not surprised by her; he looked like he was actually waiting for her to meet him there. She entered a staff-only room and invited the huge musclehulk in. After a while, I decided to investigate. "What's taking Black Hulk so long? I'll go see if everything is okay," I told Chloe. Of course, I knew what was happening. I went outside the door marked 'Staff Only', and immediately I could hear moaning and heavy breathing, and an 'oh my god, you're fucking huge!'. Yeah, as I suspected, the black musclegod was making out with the waitress. I went back to my seat. Chloe was almost finished with her pizza. "You okay, Chloe?" I asked her. "Yes, Kris. I'm starting to be full. After eating this last pizza slice, I should be satiated" she said, happily. "You know that you grew, right?" I asked her, softly. "Yes, I know. I actually liked it. How my body was making my dress small. How it couldn't contain it. It felt so good. In fact, I WANTED to grow muscles." I was taken aback by this confession. Just then, Black Hulk came back, looking sprightly as usual. Amanda was close behind him, slightly red-faced, but smiling widely. I went next to my massively muscled friend. "Hey, I know what you did back there," I whispered in his ear. "Yeah, she wanted to see me without my T-shirt. I obliged. Then she grinded her pussy against my right quad until she orgasmed loudly. That's it," Black Hulk whispered back. "After what happened to you two, I'm more careful now," he continued. "Okay, I'm satisfied now!" said Chloe suddenly, chewing the last morsel of our pizza. "Thank you, Black Hulk, for the free pizza, it was delicious!" "Sure, Chloe. I guess it's time for us to go back to the hotel, then. Let's pay and leave," Black Hulk said. He winked at Amanda. She came quickly. He gave her a hundred dollar bill. Paul the restaurant owner came by, to make sure we were satisfied by the food. After assuring him that we indeed were, we left. It was late, almost midnight. Chloe's dress was barely managing to hold her visibly wider frame. I still had a million questions to ask Black Hulk. How did all of this happen? Was it true that he never went to the gym? How did he get so huge, then? Was he somehow affected by someone's cum, the way his cum affected me and Chloe? As I was pondering these things, Chloe suddenly turned to me and said, "Hey, Kris, uh, you have already gone through what I'm going through. Would you mind if you sleep in my room tonight? My room has a double bed, because they couldn't find me a room with a single bed. I... I just want to make sure that nothing happens to me, you know?" "Uh, sure, sure Chloe," I answered. Then, referring to the black, tall, musclebound bodybuilder, I continued "Good night, Black Hulk. And thank you. Today was the best day of my life." "You're welcome, buddy. See you tomorrow at 8. We have breakfast together, okay? And see you too, Chloe. I'll extend your stay a couple more nights, from my own money." And we parted ways. Chloe and I entered her room. It was almost identical to mine, except it had a double bed, as she said. Almost immediately, she removed her dress, shamelessly in front of me, and went in front of the mirror. She gasped at her new, muscular body. Actually, so did I. I'm gay, but this woman was packing so much muscle that this was actually turning me on. Then came a huge surprise. She turned round, removed her bra and her panties, and cooed, in a really sexy voice, "You've feasted your eyes on MY body. Now let me feast my eyes on that sexy bod of yours, Kris." ---------------- Chapter 5: Kris and Chloe Make Out I was taken aback. "Uh, Chloe... you know I'm gay, right?" "Tell that to the bulge between your legs, honey," she replied, pointing to my crotch. "Besides, I only wanted to see your body, not to fuck me." "Fair's fair," I said. And, with that, I removed my oversized shirt, and my shorts. These clothes had made me forget how massively muscular I had become. "Jesus, Kris, you're fucking massive." Chloe's jaws dropped. "You look even bigger than before." "Yes, that could be the case, since I ate almost half a pizza, rememb..." "Oh, shut up. I don't care. All I care about is being in this sea of bulging, sexy, thick, hard muscle." With that, she started feeling my traps, my shoulders, my pectorals. On every bodypart she felt, she moaned appreciatively. "Shit, you're built like a brick shithouse. You're so hot. You're making me so fucking horny," she murmured. This was an absolute first for me. Usually, I'm the person who says these kind of things to another man. This role reversal was unexpected. However, I felt horny, too. Really horny. This woman was turning me on so bad. Her hands traversed my abdominals, a six pack of ripped musculature, then my butt, composed of incredible, striated glutes. I slowly removed my pants. I had to. She smiled. "For a gayboy, you're really turned on right now," she laughed. "Shut up." I admit, I was hurt by her comment. "Good, I hurt your pride. That's what a real man..." she started, but I stopped her. I shoved my half-hard cock in her mouth, and forced her to suck it. Even though she was considerably strong, she was no match for my much bigger strength. "Mmmmmphmphmmphmmphmmppphh!" she complained. The more she struggled, the more turned on I got. Her eyes bugged out as my cock expanded in her mouth. Suddenly I was apprehensive, and let her go. She lashed out at me. "What the FUCK, Kris?" "I... I'm sorry, Chloe. I don't know what hit me. I swear..." "Shut up, silly. I actually LIKED that. A lot. I like it when you're rough. Hey, I can take a beating!" she smiled, as she flexed her biceps, turning them into considerable mountains of female musculature. "In fact," she continued, as she went down on her knees, "let me show you how much I liked that." She took my now hard cock in her mouth, and started to suck it, while her hands tugged at it with all her might. "God, oh GOD, yes, that's good, baby... so, so GOOD. Fuck, you're so good," I was murmuring non-stop. She disengaged her mouth. I was rock hard. My cock felt really huge and thick. Bigger than ever. Probably because it was. "Let's get to bed, honey," she cooed. We did. The double-bed creaked as it took the mass of our considerably developed bodies. I put a finger in her pussy. It was soaking wet. Chloe moaned, and bit her lower lip. "Let me be on top," Chloe whispered. "Let me ride you. I know, this must be strange for you. Sorry about earlier, calling you a gayboy. You're an incredibly handsome man with unreal muscles. You turn me on so bad. I say silly things when I'm turned on. Let me make it up to you." She plunged her soaking wet vagina on my superhard cock. It felt great. My cock felt like it was being sucked by a thousand tiny mouths. So this is what a pussy feels like, huh? I thought. Hmm, that doesn't feel half-bad. In fact, it feels fantastic. Chloe started to ride me. Her ample breasts bounced with each of her thrusts. I was never enamoured with female breasts at all, but now, they suddenly looked really hot. In fact, Chloe looked fucking hot, from head to toe. And not because she was a muscle beast. She was hot because she was a really, really sexy human being, like Black Hulk is, only in a very different way. Her moans got quicker and higher-pitched, as she neared orgasm. Wow, I thought, a woman is going to orgasm because of me? That's so hot. I saw her eyes roll backwards, then her mouth let out a really loud moan. She was in orgasmic bliss. She orgasmed hard. Her body shook all over. Her orgasm was long. It took, like, more than half a minute. All the while, she was convulsing in sexual delirium, and moaning, almost shouting, in delight. Now I'm not obviously an expert in fucking females, but I thought that this wasn't normal. Seeing her climaxing for so long because of me turned me on SOOO much, though. I couldn't believe it. My body, my power, my muscles, must have done this to her. What happened to me? Why am I fucking a woman? Why am I enjoying it so much? Before a few hours ago, my sexual fantasies always involved being with a huge, muscular guy fucking me from behind. Well, I still find that fucking hot. But now, my fantasies are also including people worshipping my muscles and sucking my long, thick, hard cock, which then fucks them hard until they orgasm uncontrollably. Yes, I want to fuck this super sexy, hot woman HARD. "Oh fuck, that orgasm was so intense... your cock is so good! God, that orgasm continued to roll and roll, like a wave... I never felt anything like it!" she enthused, when her orgasm finally subsided. "Now it's my turn, sexy!" I told her. I sat up and grabbed her from her ample back, making her huge breasts squish against my upper body. She was very muscular, but I was stronger, and could easily lift her entire body in this way if I wanted to. Then I started to fuck her, pushing my cock inside her moist pussy. She appeared to like this; her eyes closed and her mouth went slightly wide. I continue fucking her, upping my pace little by little. Soon I felt my orgasm nearing, and I started moaning, first slowly, then more frequently. She sensed my climax was near. "Shoot inside me, honey, gimme your sperm!" I did. And how. "Oh, fuck, FUCKKKK, OHHHHH I'm CUMMINGGG! OHH YESS, OHHH, OHHHHH... it's still going... OOOHHHHOOHHHOHHH SHIIITTT! Ohh god, GOD here it COMESS AGAIN HOLY SHITTT... OHH FUCKK IT'S NOT STOPPINGG! OH MY GODDDD! OHHHH GOD YESS!" I came buckets. My orgasm must have taken way more than half a minute, perhaps even a full minute. It felt so intense, so amazing, so pleasurable, so powerful. That was, undoubtedly, my most satisfying orgasm of my entire life, easily topping my three powerful orgasms I had with Black Hulk a few hours ago. "Holy fuck, that felt REALLY good! I also felt it, the orgasm coming in waves of sexual pleasure." I was almost laughing with pleasure. Chloe was also grinning widely. She disengaged my cock off her pussy. A pool of my hot, white cum poured out of her vagina. "You know, Kris, I thought 'here we go again' when you cummed inside me. Your orgasm felt very similar to Black Hulk's, both in duration and in intensity. But no, your cum was not absorbed inside me, like his did. That's... that's a relief, I guess." "It is," I confirmed. "I never came so much in my life, though. Not even close. Black Hulk must have given us more than one gift. It's not normal for your orgasms to take that long, right?" "No, it's not. It left me completely satisfied, though. It felt better than 10 of my usual multi-orgasms." Then, she looked at my body, again. "God, you're so hot. Your muscles are so thick, so bulging with power. You fucked me there like I weighed nothing to you. Even though I feel very strong myself, and weigh considerably more than an average woman." With that, she climbed out of the bed, and lifted the end of the bed, with myself on it, supporting the bed on only its two front legs. "Wow, girl. You ARE strong. I'm sure many men are incapable of doing that," I enthused. Chloe placed the bed back in its original position. "You know, that surprised even myself," she admitted. "Is there a scale here? I want to find my weight." "If this room is like mine, there should be one stowed away behind the corner of the room, near the door," I said. "Ah yes, there it is. Here goes nothing." She stepped on the scales. "180lbs. Wow, I gained 35lbs. Probably more, since this is my naked weight. Holy shit." "You know, Chloe, your body is not biologically possible," I suddenly said. "What do you mean?" "Your breasts are beautiful and large. So is your butt. On the other hand," I continued, "the rest of your body is completely devoid of fat. This is clear from how apparent are your muscles. Now, that's impossible, because, when females gain or lose fat..." "... they gain or lose it in their breasts, first," Chloe continued. "Precisely. In fact, many female bodybuilders look like men for exactly this reason. To make their muscles visible, they need to lose fat, and they end up literally without breasts. That's why some of them resort to plastic surgery to augment their breasts back. But you... your breasts are enormous, and are mostly fat, and your hips are still very female-like. That's... biologically impossible." "Another gift from Black Hulk?" "Probably. Man, I have so many questions to ask him tomorrow." I then climbed on the scales myself. "Hmm... 270lbs. I gained 10lbs from the pizza restaurant." "You know, I think I'm ready for another round of powerful sex," teased Chloe, as she rubbed my back, feeling its rippling, muscular power. And we spent the rest of the night fucking, fucking and then fucking some more. * * * My phone woke me up. It was 7:30am. Yesterday was a great day. I met two incredibly beautiful persons. I fucked them hard. The sex felt incredible, way better than the sex I perform in my porn movies. They grew after I fucked them. That's weird; that never happened with any of the porn actors. Maybe because I never orgasm inside porn actors - that's strictly prohibited in my contract. Let's hope they don't ask too many questions about that. I stretched my monstrous, black arms and climbed out of the bed. I hope Chloe and Kris wake up in time. You see, I asked the receptionist to extend Chloe's stay for two more nights before I slept yesterday, from my own money. The receptionist rejected the offer, because her room was already booked for today by somebody else. However, he arranged that Chloe switch to my room, so that it becomes a two-person room from a one-person room. I accepted this change - after all, it's cheaper too. So, after asking the receptionist for her room number, I went to tell her the news. However, I heard moans of sexual pleasure when I arrived at her door. She was probably having sex with Kris. So I decided to tell her the news when we meet for breakfast tomorrow. Suddenly, my cellphone rang. "Hello?" "Hi, is this Mr. Henk Kuria?" "Yes, speaking." "Good morning, Mr. Kuria. I'm Tony Halep from the IFBB. You have been chosen for a random doping test ahead of your participation in the Mr. Olympia contest this weekend." "Uh, okay, and what does that... entail, exactly?" I asked. "We'll need you to provide a urine sample by noon today." Shit. That's bad news. Like, really, really terrible news. "Hello? Mr. Kuria? Are you still there?" "Yes, yes, uh, Mr. ... Halep." "We can collect the sample from backstage, don't worry. The prejudging starts at 7pm, as you know, but I'm sure you were going to be here earlier... unless you do a no-show like you did yesterday for the press conference." "Uh, yes, Mr. Halep... I'll be there... at noon," I stammered. "Good. See you then, Mr. Kuria." "Uh, see you." And the line went dead. "Shit, I'm in trouble. Better wake up the others." I said to myself. I dressed quickly, feeling my monstrous, black, hyper muscles stretch the T-shirt and shorts to their limits. I paused... shit, the clothes hugging my huge muscles always feels so good. Then I hurried to Chloe's room, and knocked on her door. "Chloe, Kris, wake up. It's me, Henk." No response. I knocked harder. "Chloe! Kris! It's 8 in the morning. We need to have breakfast together, remember?" Still no response. "Come on, Kris! Chloe! Anyone! Wake up!" as I banged on the door, hoping for someone to wake up. Well, I must have hit on the door a bit too powerfully, because it suddenly gave way, and it fell into their room with a loud bang! The sound was deafening, but, strangely, whoever was inside did not budge. I decided to enter. "Kris? Chloe?" But there was no one there. Then I looked at the door, flat on the ground. There was a number written on it: 427. "Shit, I'm on the wrong floor, I should be on the fifth!" And, with that, I ran the stairs to the fifth floor, and double-checked that I was in front of the right room. 527. Good. I knocked on the door. "Chloe! Kris! Wake up! It's me, Henk." No response. "Come on, Kris, Chloe, please." Then I heard Chloe. "Uuuhhhh... can't we sleep a little more... we're tired." "It's 8 in the morning. Come on. We need to have breakfast soon." The door opened. Chloe was still naked. Her body was perfectly muscular and curvy. She was, simply, a goddess. I never saw another woman as muscular as her, not even among the female pros. At the same time, her figure was sexier than any female pornstar I fucked. She was stunningly hot and massively muscular at the same time. I entered, and closed the door quickly. A massive stink greeted me... the stink of dry cum. "Fuck... did you... holy shit, you both stink of cum." "We do. But we're gonna shower quickly," said Kris, as he woke up. He, too, was naked. He looked gloriously handsome and muscular. Certainly the second biggest muscleman in the world, second only to me. His cock rivalled mine in terms of size. "Good to see you, Black Hulk." "Wow, Kris. And I swore you were gay." "I was. But have you seen Chloe? I mean, holy shit. She's, like, perfection incarnate." "She is. And, so are you, you know." I said. "All thanks to you, man. You still haven't told us how you did it." "I'll tell you today. But first, can you shower quickly? And no more sex, for now, please. Although, admittedly, you do look like a sex god and a sex goddess." "Yeah, let's shower. But we need to buy some clothes that fit us," said Chloe, as she entered the shower. Kris followed her, and they showered and rubbed each other's bodies with soap. This, of course, turned them on considerably. They started to touch each other's sexual organs. But then they decided enough was enough for that day. They turned off the shower and stepped outside, drying in the towels. "Guys, I have a problem." I confessed. "Long story short, I need to provide a urine sample by noon." "Yeah, so? We have ample time to have breakfast, go shopping for clothes, and then go to the contest by noon," said Kris while drying off his huge muscles. "You don't understand... I cannot give a urine sample!" I told them. "Uh... why not? You didn't take... drugs, didn't you?" Chloe said, as she dried her ample breasts. "So THAT's what you didn't want to tell us, huh?" "No, no, of course I didn't," I said. "You took a diuretic this morning. Right? Is that it? Honestly, these diuretics rules are bullshit," Kris mused. "It's not that, either." "Then, what is it?" they asked, together. "Because... because I haven't urinated for the past three and a half years." ---------------- Chapter 6: The Origin of Black Hulk (Three and a half years ago.) I met Chitundu a few weeks ago. He was tall and handsome, with a nice, ripped body. I was actually slightly taller, at 6'4, but I was skinny, and weighed only 155lbs. But he liked me. We were a gay couple, in a country, Kenya, where being gay is punished harshly. I've heard of a friend going to 10 years imprisonment because they caught him having sex with another man. Another gay couple were beaten to death. Indeed, that gay couple was us. We were enjoying ourselves, in a barn. After rubbing each other's bodies and turning each other on, Chitundu penetrated my ass. It felt great, being fucked by my soulmate. But then, suddenly, the barn door burst open, and four men, armed with sticks and tree branches, started beating us left right and centre. They insulted us, calling us things like 'filthy pigs', 'homos', and 'nasty animals' as we succumbed to their beatings. Soon, I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was still in the barn, covered in blood. I tried to move, but it ached horribly. They must have broken a few of my bones. I tried to see if Chitundu was there with me. Somehow, I managed to spot him. He was motionless. "Chitundu! Chitundu!" I called him, weakly. But he didn't respond. "Help! Help us! Please! We were assaulted! Help!" I tried shouting, but my voice was feeble. I was trying hard to stay conscious, but I drifted away again. When I woke up, I found myself on a bed, in a make-shift clinic. I was alone. Somebody must have found us, and took us to some kind of hospital. I had bandages all over. "Hello? Hello?" I called. Soon, a white man dressed in white overalls came in. "Oh, you're up, thank God," he said, in an American accent. "What's your name?" "Henk. I'm Henk." I answered. "Do you have family?" "No, I don't. My parents were both from Kenya, although my Dad had Dutch ancestors. My family died in the polio plague, though, a few years ago. I live with Chitundu, the other guy. Who are you?" "You're in very bad shape," he said, ignoring my question. "You've got a broken arm, a broken leg, and at least three broken ribs. You also have countless bruises and cuts, some of which are infected, and others starting to get infected. Unfortunately, I don't have the necessary tools and equipment here to mend you adequately." "Where am I? Where's Chitundu? And who are you?" I asked him. "That's not important right now. What's important is that you're safe here, for the time being. I'll soon try an experimental cure on you. It's the only way you can heal completely, but it's never been tested on anyone." "Wait, I don't want an experimental cure!" I cried. "It's either this, or you die by the end of the week," the white guy in white overalls said firmly. "Okay, okay then. Please, I don't want to die. I've only just turned 20." "If you believe in my methods, you won't die, Henk. Trust me," the white man said, smiling faintly. "Now, I'll soon administer a rectal suppository." "What's that?" "It's medicine that is administered through your rectum... your... butthole," the mysterious white man said. "This is very modern, cutting-edge technology. I travelled from America to Kenya because my studies show that Kenyans' DNA should accept this medicine better than the DNA of any other person coming from a different country." He paused, then told me, "I need you to help me turn you over." With a lot of pain and suffering, I managed to do a quarter-turn. "That's enough. Thank you, Henk," as he produced a bullet-sized device. He quickly literally shoved it in my butt. My butt muscles accepted the device, and it was inside me. Suddenly, I started spasming uncontrollably. Each spasm was really painful, due to my broken ribs. I started shouting frantically in pain. But, after a while, the pain started to subside. Eventually, after about ten minutes of spasming, the pain had disappeared completely, and the spasms soon stopped. "How do you feel now, Henk?" the white man asked. I turned around to face him. "Much better. The pain is gone completely. In fact, I think I've never felt better." "Good, Henk, I'm glad. The experimental medicine was a success. It should have mended all your broken bones, and healed you completely." I started touching my arm, my leg, my torso. No pain at all. "Wow, it must have! It just works... just like that?" "Yes, just like that. That's the miracle of science," he said, smiling. "I'll need to keep you here for some more tests, but the initial impressions look very encouraging." I suddenly remembered my friend. "Where's Chitundu?" I asked again. The man in the white overalls sighed. "I'm sorry, Henk. He's... gone." I started crying. I lost the only acquaintance I had. "I'm really sorry," the white man tried to console me. "I couldn't do anything for him. He was already dead when I found both of you." Then I felt it. A big stomach rumble. I clutched my stomach. "Do you have something to eat... uh... Doctor?" I asked, amid tears still rolling down my eyes. "I'm hungry." "Sure. In fact, I have something better," the man in the white overalls said. "I predicted that you should feel really hungry after the medicine has performed its... uhm... magic. So I'm going to give you food through a pipe from your nose to your stomach. I'll be monitoring you, don't worry." The man motioned to a large tank, which, apparently, contained food in liquid form, and drew a thin pipe out of it. I winced slightly as the pipe got through my nose, but it wasn't that bad. The man in the white overalls switched on the tank, and that was that. "I'll be in the next room. Please, for your own safety and well-being, do not leave the room. Even more importantly, under no circumstances should you remove the pipe from your nose," the mysterious man said. "Thanks, doc, for saving my life," I told him. He smiled faintly, and left. I tried to be motionless, but soon I was getting bored. Even though I was still naked, I was, at least, covered by a white bedsheet. I started feeling a bit awkward in certain positions, so I tried to shift my body to be more comfortable. After a little while longer, I was feeling... more built? My arms were not twigs anymore, but were getting a bit more manly. My pectorals weren't practically non-existent anymore, but were filling up nicely. My stomach, which was a washboard, was now getting slight hints of abdominal muscle. I was growing muscle, at a steady pace. This wasn't stopping, either. I was getting bigger and bigger. I shifted my legs a bit further away, because they were thicker and were hitting my balls. This felt really good. My arms were now quite thick, and my biceps were now much more prominent. My pectorals were big and strong. At this point, I thought I was as big as Chitundu. But my growth did not stop. Even my bedsheets now took a different shape, due to my bulging muscles beneath them. "This feels so good," I said to myself. I felt my cock getting bigger. I was getting turned on. I started to slowly stroke it, under the bedsheets. I was surprised how huge it felt. I moaned softly to myself, as my strokes became faster. All the while, my muscles were still getting bigger and bigger; I was as big as a fitness trainer now. "God, I'm gonna cum!" I murmured to myself, so turned on by my own expanding body. And cum I did. An orgasm that soaked up my bedsheets completely, that lasted at least half a minute. I must have been moaning really loudly, because, mid-way through my orgasm, the man in the white labcoat returned, alarmed. "Oh, my, you're masturbating!" he said. "That's a relief... I thought you were moaning in pain. Oh my, that's an astonishing amount of semen... I've never seen anything like that in my life. Wow." The white man's jaw dropped. Then, when my climax had finished, he said, "Let me change your bedsheets." I had, indeed, finally done blasting cum, but I was still growing muscles. I sat up on the bedside, naked, with my increasingly muscular body now plainly visible. The man in white was shocked. "What is happening here? This is an unexpected side-effect," he said, more to himself than to myself. He hurried to change my bedsheets, and I covered myself again. "Sorry I masturbated. But, my growing muscles... feel so good," I said. "Tell me, Henk, are you still hungry?" the white man asked me. "Yes. Still hungry." "Okay. Try not to masturbate until the machine finishes its job, okay?" "Okay, doc," I sheepishly said. "By the way, my name is James, and I'm actually a molecular biologist." And, he left. I was getting turned on again. But, I resisted the urge of touching my dick. My muscles were still getting bigger. My biceps now looked as big as volleyballs. Touching them, they felt amazingly powerful and hard. My pecs were like two sacks of gravel. It was like somebody was pumping them up, inflating them like balloons. Except they were hard as diamonds, not soft and squishy. My abdominals were like six... no, eight, perfectly-placed, hard bricks. My thighs were like monstrous barrels. I was wider, too, to the point that my shoulders and biceps couldn't fit under the bedsheet anymore. Finally, my hunger was abating. James, the molecular biologist, or so he claimed to be, returned. "Hello, Henk. Everything alright?" "More than alright. I feel like a god," I truthfully answered. He switched off the machine, and removed the pipe off my nose. Almost all the liquid food inside the machine was gone. I had somehow absorbed all of that food inside me, during the past hour or so. "That's it, then. Good as new. Literally," James said. "I wish I'd keep you a little more while I do a few tests on you, to see exactly what caused this... muscular side-effect, and if other side-effects manifest themselves in due time." "Sure. I don't have anywhere to go now. Might as well stay here. And I don't have any clothes, either, so it's useless to leave," I said, matter-of-factly. James not only did a few tests on me, but treated me like a son. He bought me clothes and brought me meals. Another side-effect he noticed was that I never urinated or defecated anymore. It seemed like any food and drink intake was being completely used to sustain my body, to grow bigger muscles and to produce sperm - a lot of sperm, for that matter. He also noticed that I did not have a single hair below my neck. Looking at my skin under a microscope, he noticed that I had no hair follicles at all, from my neck downwards. His medicine must be completely focused on improving my body all the time, and it had no reasons to produce by-products like body hair and feces, he theorized. Once he was finished with his experiments, he proposed that I fly to America with him. Since I had no family in Kenya, I gladly accepted. My passport and visa took a little while to be issued, but, finally, me and James were in America. I started working in construction. My workmates were astonished by my strength and muscles. I could lift stuff with one arm that required the strength of two men. One of my workmates, Steve, was gay. He once literally threw himself on my body while I was showering. I fucked him and came all over his body. That was the first time I was the one doing the fucking, rather than being on the receiving end of a fuck. It felt so good. Steve loved it, too; he told me he was never so turned on in his life. This 'love affair' continued for a little while. After earning a bit of money, I could afford living in an apartment alone. It was hard leaving James, after what he has done to me. James understood, but asked to keep in touch. I agreed. People stared at me wherever I went. Once, a lady stopped me while walking outside my apartment, and asked me where I worked out. I told her that I didn't. "Jesus, you've got crazy genetics, honey. You should become a pro bodybuilder!" she suggested. "Bodybuilder? What's that?" I asked, curiously. The lady was surprised. Then she told me, "Google it, honey. You'll know." A minute later, she was inside my apartment, and I was fucking her senseless. She orgasmed several times, and I erupted my dick's contents all over her naked, curvy body. It was at this point that I realized that I was not necessarily gay, but that women turned me on, too. Especially women who literally drooled over my incredible, mountainous, enormously muscular black body. I did follow her suggestion. Pictures of men and women with huge muscles emerged off Google. But none had muscles bigger than mine. I dwarfed even the biggest, most muscular bodybuilder. I learnt that there were contests for bodybuilders. The most prestigious one was called 'Mr. Olympia'. I decided to take part. The IFBB were shocked by my size, so they decided to throw me in as a wildcard. Guess what: I won the contest, beating 9-time Mr. Olympia Phil Heath comprehensively, coming literally from nowhere. People started calling me 'Black Hulk', and it stuck. I became an overnight sensation. I did magazine photo shoots, interviews, documentaries... the list goes on and on. I even starred in a movie cameo. People couldn't get enough of my size. They couldn't believe that I was a 6'4, 380lbs supermuscular man with only 4% bodyfat. Men and women, young and old; everyone wanted to know about me, or drool over my hypermuscular body, or both. The photo shoots exposed something else about me: my dick, apparently, was much bigger than average. This prompted some porn houses to call me, asking if I would consider being a pornstar. I told them I'd do it, for the right price. And so my first porn movie was born, where I fucked this woman with an outrageously big, but fake, ass, called Lela Star. The camerapersons were astonished at my stamina, and how my cock stayed hard throughout the whole shoot, without me needing to take breaks or taking substances to keep my penis hard. Lela Star later confessed with me that it was the first time that she orgasmed for real, on set. I took that as a big compliment. Two hours after the porn flick shoot, I was fucking her again, in her house. My sexual stamina was insatiable; I could perform amazing sex after only half an hour of having my cum erupting from my huge dick. After the success of my first porn movie, more and more porn producers asked for my services, including gay companies. I accepted the gay porn acts too, automatically revealing to the world that I was bisexual. The IFBB called me after this, telling me that my bisexual lifestyle was 'damaging their reputation'. I told them, with contempt and disgust, that, apparently, the fact that Mr. Olympia is a pornstar does not damage the IFBB's reputation, but the fact that Mr. Olympia fucks other men does. Year after year, I continued to grow bigger muscles, albeit at a slower pace. On average, I was gaining 20lbs of muscle every year. And in 2023, as a 6'4, 440lbs ultramuscular bodybuilder, I walked in this hotel to participate in my fourth Mr. Olympia contest. * * * I ended up withdrawing from the contest, and resigning from the IFBB as a professional bodybuilder with immediate effect. That was the first thing that Chloe had to do as my spokesperson: announcing that I was not going to produce a urine sample and withdrawing from the contest, citing lack of transparency in doping tests. As a former journalist, she knew what kind of questions journalists ask, and she handled the press brilliantly. I was enormously proud of her. Although maybe, some of the journalists could have also been a little intimidated by this muscular spokeswoman... An uproar ensued, with people furious about having bought tickets for the Mr. O. to see me in action, only to see me announce my withdrawal. Most of them blamed the IFBB for their hypocritical way in which they do doping tests. In order to calm down the situation, I suggested that I could do a free posing routine after all the contestants do theirs, a routine which did not have anything to do with the contest; it was just a bit of entertainment for the public. The IFBB liked this idea, and, after negotiating the right price, I agreed to do it. I got Kris with me, backstage, of course, to 'rub oil' on my massive, bulging, huge muscles. Kris wasn't out of place among these contestants at all; he was easily as big as the biggest Mr. O. contestant there. Mamdouh Elssbiay, who most people called 'Big Ramy', came over and expressed sadness at what happened to me. He also congratulated Kris on his physique. I sincerely wished him all the best during the contest. "You know," he told me, "thanks to your withdrawal, I'm really in with a shot this year. But I'm not sure if I'll win it next year, if Kris here decides to participate." Long story short, Big Ramy did end up winning that Mr. Olympia contest for the first time. In so doing, the Mr. Olympia trophy was transferred from an African man to another African. But the plaudits went for me. The audience erupted in applause when I set foot on stage, and shouted 'Black Hulk, Black Hulk' repeatedly in support. Chloe suggested to wear my posing pants a little lower than usual, to reveal juuuuust a little cock, to spite the IFBB. After all, I was doing this just for fun, not to compete. The audience loved it. I wowed them with my physique as much as I could. As I was leaving the stage, the audience erupted and wanted more. I got back to the stage and did my customary bicep pose where my bicep inflates bigger and bigger and BIGGER. Some of the audience audibly gasped at the impossible size of my flexed bicep. Then I left the stage, this time for good. When I returned to the hotel, I was informed that the security cameras on the fourth floor detected a person of my size ripping off the door of room number 427... ---------------- Epilogue It's been four years since that Mr. Olympia contest; since Kris and Chloe received 'the gift', as we started calling it. I grew even bigger since then. Still at 6'4, I now weigh 500lbs of solid, massive, freaky, black muscle beef. I settled down with Chloe and Kris, and we three live together in my apartment. They are both incredible human specimens in their own right, not just physically, but also emotionally and, why not, sexually too. So I thought, why not? My job is now full time as a porn actor, sometimes even shooting 'amateur' footage with Kris, Chloe, or both. Life is good. Kris is now a superhuman god of muscle development. Incredibly, even though he's only 5'9, which is more than half a foot less than I'm tall, he weighs a scale-crushing 510lbs of incomprehensible slabs of immense muscle - 10lbs MORE than I do. His secret? Well, he still eats well and goes to the gym regularly - unlike me. His muscle development is really insane. The Internet calls him 'Blond Hulk', and I find it quite appropriate. Due to how much shorter Blond Hulk is than I am, his muscles appear much, much bigger than mine. Of course, sex with him is as insanely hot as his muscles, if not more. Recently, he fucked me, rather than vice-versa, and then I fucked him back. It's good to finally have someone with the necessary muscle to fuck Black Hulk; I kinda missed the feeling of being fucked from behind. Kris never competed as a professional bodybuilder, partly because the IFBB dissolved itself a year ago. More on that later. Chloe is also an incredible muscle specimen. She now weighs 225lbs, which, on her 5'7 frame, is really quite a sight to behold. Her muscles are really dense - probably denser than mine or Kris'. She's still got two magnificent orbs of breastflesh jutting out of her pecs, and her biologically impossible hourglass figure is still definitely eye-turning. She's still my spokesperson - now for my porn endeavours, though. People call her 'Curvy She-Hulk' online... I kinda like it! Of course, our lives does not revolve solely into having just us three as sex partners, fucking each other. Part of why we're in this porn business is our extremely sexual lifestyle. We cannot do otherwise; 'the gift' forces us to have frequent sex, or, at the very least, masturbate often. When Kris, Chloe or I go out to eat alone, or go to buy some new clothes, or whatever, it's not unusual that one of us picks some hot guy or girl and give him or her a bit of sexual bliss. If we really like the person, Kris or I ensure that we orgasm inside their pussy, or butthole, thus giving that person 'the gift', slowly turning them into a veritable god or goddess - just like I did to Kris and Chloe four years ago. Interestingly, we recently discovered that Chloe can also give 'the gift' to her sexual partners. It turns out that her ample breasts ooze out a liquid when she's sexually excited, which, when drunk by a person in the right amounts, gives 'the gift' to that person. This allows Chloe, like us, to give 'the gift' to both sexes. We three are, of course, all bisexual. Indeed, that's one other side-effect of 'the gift', we learned - it turns that person bisexual, no matter what sexual orientation he or she leaned to prior to receiving 'it'. Slowly, 'the gift' started to become more widespread. People receiving 'the gift' - which we started calling 'gifters' - of course, fucked other people, due to their heightened sexual desires, spreading 'the gift' like wildfire. Many people, males and females, started becoming hugely muscular humans literally overnight. The professional bodybuilders training night and day in the gym simply couldn't compete anymore. This prompted the IFBB to dissolve bodybuilding as a sport for good. Moreover, the ideal female body perceived by the world at large slowly started shifting to the one that Chloe, and all female 'gifters', possessed. And James? We did decide to meet James, to ask him to study the process of how 'the gift' works. While doing so, James became totally obsessed with Chloe's incredible beauty, and - long story short - he received 'the gift' himself from her. One aspect of 'the gift' that was puzzling James was pregnancy - or lack of. The amount of semen produced by male 'gifters' was about 10 times as much as normal males did, and female 'gifters' had the perfect, ideal vaginal shape to accommodate these males. Moreover, the sperm count of male 'gifters' was astonishingly high, at around 800 to 1000 million sperms per millilitre, with close to 100% rapid progressive sperm motility. Female 'gifters', on the other hand, ovulated more frequently than non-'gifters', and did not have periods. In spite of all this, it seemed like male 'gifters' were incapable of impregnating female 'gifters' at all. After studying this anomaly for long, James finally managed to crack this mystery too. Incredibly, male 'gifters' couldn't impregnate female 'gifters' alone; there needed to be the semen of TWO different male 'gifters' in the vagina of a female 'gifter' for pregnancy to happen. This was confirmed to be true when me and Kris impregnated Chloe the same night that James made this discovery. Our family is expecting our first child; the first child in the entire world that will have two Dads and one Mum. Will we tell the story of our child, and of our future children, in the future? Who knows... time will tell. THE END

Gabriel Displays His Assets by Fallen Away The lonely housewives of Lake Forest didn't pay Gabriel $500 an hour because he was good at hanging Christmas lights. In fact, he didn't even try to do a good job. He knew they were happy to stand back and watch him work in a pair of well-worn Levi's that were a few squats away from bursting. Those jeans were the centerpiece of his very successful marketing strategy. The view from the back convinced all the neighbors to hire him as soon as possible, regardless of his exorbitant hourly rate. Meanwhile the view from inside the house was driving his customer into a lustful frenzy. By the time Gabriel fastened a few crooked strings of lights to the front of the house, the lady of the house would peel off a layer of clothing, shuffle into the yard like a starving zombie, and invite him into her kitchen to get a taste of her "Christmas cookies." Gabriel always accepted. He especially liked it when there were actual cookies involved, as he was frequently hungry. But he wouldn't have much time to eat once he shed his winter coat and revealed the thickly muscled torso that matched his thickly muscled legs. He had mastered the art of the seductive stretch, with hands clasped and arms extended overhead, ensuring that the hem of his inadequate t-shirt would be dragged above two or more rows of abdominal muscles. His abs were then thrown into high relief with a gentle twist of his hips and a casual flex of his tight, fat-free core. He liked to finish by using his right middle finger to scratch an apparent itch in the lowest part of his unruly treasure trail. Gabriel's business analysis revealed that 62% of his customers tried to unwrap his hefty Christmas package before he was done with his little scratch. 23% fainted, 8% babbled incoherently until he shoved something into their mouths, 6% burst into tears, and 1% just... died. (Rest in peace, Mrs. Abernathy!) No matter how they reacted to his overwhelming physical presence, Gabriel took his time (he was being paid by the hour) to provide each woman with an array of erotic handyman services whether they ordered them or not. When they’d had their fill of his homemade eggnog and were close to passing out from exhaustion, he made sure they expressed their satisfaction with a five-star review on Yelp. But Gabriel went above and beyond the expectations of the most demanding suburban housewives. After leaving them sprawled on their ruined bedsheets, he took their smartphones and prepared for his favorite part of the job. If there were children in the household, he sent texts and arranged for them to stay with friends or grandparents after school. Then he texted the man of the house to say that he was needed at home immediately. If they balked, Gabriel made a vague reference to plumbing that needed to be snaked. (They had no idea they would be bringing that plumbing home with them.) When the worried husband rushed into his house to find an enormously muscled young man, naked, finishing up the last of what was supposed to be the man’s dinner, he was rarely able to articulate any of the questions in his head. Gabriel took advantage of that pause to stand up, towering at least a foot over most of their heads, and greet them politely: “Hello Mr. X, I’m Gabriel.” He would tug on his intimidating yule log a couple of times before extending the same hand for a businesslike shake. Most of them of them were conditioned to shake any hand that was offered, so they gripped it without thinking while Gabriel enjoyed their changing facial expressions. At the same time, they were hit with a wall of humid body heat and potent alpha musk that stripped away any of the authority they enjoyed as C-suite executives, doctors, lawyers, or investment bankers. They lowered their eyes and waited for instructions. “Your wife hired me to ‘clean out your garage’.” Gabriel always cocked an eyebrow when he said that, just in case the man was too clueless to recognize a euphemism when he heard one. (Some of them were still surprised when the cleaning began.) “She didn’t have enough cash in the house to pay me, so… do you need to go to an ATM, or would you like to use a card?” Gabriel pulled out his phone and plugged in a card reader. Anticipating their questions about the cost, he would size them up and squeeze an upper arm to evaluate their muscle tone. “You won’t last more than two hours, so, including your wife, that’ll be $2500 including the tip.” When 31% of the men expressed some kind of objection, Gabriel calmly flexed a bicep bigger than their heads and waited for their platinum cards to land in his outstretched hand. With payment out of the way, Gabriel introduced the men of Lake Forest to home maintenance services they didn’t know they needed. Their ‘drains’ were ‘snaked,’ as promised, and their ‘garages’ were cleaned out and rearranged until they had more space in them than they ever thought possible. (Some claimed that their farts echoed off the walls!) On top of that, he left them with a warm meal in their distended bellies before he gently carried them to their beds and laid them next to their sleeping wives. Gabriel stayed just long enough to eat all the remaining food in the house before he locked the door on his way out. A stranger driving around Lake Forest during the holiday season would be surprised by the number of houses with poorly hung Christmas lights. “Surely they can afford better services,” they might say. But those who lived and worked there began to notice that everyone seemed happier and more relaxed. Shop owners and clerks commented that their customers were less irritable. Tips increased by 25%. Bosses were nicer to their employees. Workaholics went home earlier to spend more time with their families. And the name Gabriel was often overheard in many quiet conversations between friends, neighbors, and colleagues. Gabriel made enough money to buy a private island. But he didn’t. Large anonymous donations were made to food pantries and homeless shelters. No one seemed to know where Gabriel lived, but he was always around, often recommended, and surprisingly available to meet everyone’s needs whenever he was called. Inevitably, people began to say he was an angel. Whether they meant that literally or metaphorically, it was universally agreed that he had brought joy to the community, and that was all they needed to know. And that, boys and girls, is the legend of Gabriel, the angel who fucked some sense into the people of Lake Forest.

This is another story I wrote last year as part of a collaboration with @lionlouis. He asked for volunteers to write captions or stories for the illustrations he made for a muscle growth Advent calendar. The illustrations were provided as story prompts, and a few of us wrote whatever we wanted to fit the pictures. This is what I wrote for the illustration above. Good Things and Small Packages by Fallen Away After a full day of Christmas shopping for each other, Philippe was disappointed to see that Jean Pierre, his boyfriend of nine months, had only one tiny package. He seemed pleased with himself. Or was he just happy to see all the bags Philippe was carrying? Philippe knew that Jean Pierre, a personal trainer, didn’t make nearly as much money as he did as a wealth advisor for a private investment firm. He was always quick to say, “His income doesn’t bother me at all” when his friends inquired. But he was thinking about it now. Philippe had to admit that he went overboard buying gifts for Jean Pierre. This was their first Christmas together and he wanted to show his boyfriend how much he appreciated him… or loved him. The fact is, he was totally infatuated with the guy, and he felt a little embarrassed about that. His friends teased him about being a sugar daddy with a boy toy. He laughed, but it bothered him. At thirty, he was only four years older than Jean Pierre, although JP looked older than his twenty-six years because he was so… large and… masculine. Jean Pierre was a wonderful man, very kind and thoughtful. They had similar interests and never ran out of things to talk about. Time flew by when they were together. But Philippe often wondered if a handsome hunk like that could really be satisfied with a lanky, average guy like him. So he bought him lots of nice presents, as if that would keep him around. They went to a party hosted by one of his friends on Christmas Eve, and Jean Pierre stayed at Philippe’s apartment that night. In the morning, Philippe woke up alone next to the deep impression his boyfriend had left in the mattress. After a moment’s anxiety about being abandoned, he heard sounds coming from the kitchen. He pulled on a t-shirt and pajama pants and, barefoot, padded into the kitchen. Jean Pierre was cooking breakfast, shirtless. He looked up and said, “Bonjour Cupcake!” Philippe never imagined he would like that nickname, but coming from Jean Pierre’s very kissable lips, it was adorable. So he went over and gave him a kiss. “Bonjour Redwood. I didn’t know you were making breakfast.” “I thought I would surprise you with a quiche Lorraine. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.” “That sounds good. I didn’t know you could cook.” “Well, you would know if you stopped taking me to fancy restaurants. I love to cook. I should go and put on a shirt. This is unsanitary.” “No,” Philippe objected. “No you shouldn’t. I don’t mind.” In fact, he wouldn’t mind finding one of his boyfriend’s reddish brown chest hairs in his quiche. Jean Pierre smiled. “You don’t mind, huh? Well, then I think you should take your shirt off to make this fair.” Philippe blushed and reluctantly pulled off his shirt. JP looked at him with undisguised lust. “The quiche is ready. Have a seat and let me serve you.” Philippe sat at the table where fresh orange juice and a pot of steaming coffee were waiting. Jean Pierre brought him a generous wedge of quiche arranged on a plate with a small portion of rocket salad and sliced strawberries. “This is very nice. Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” JP sat down with his own plate after pouring the coffee and orange juice. “Bon appétit.” They talked about the party they had attended the night before. It was a pleasant evening with an eclectic group of people, couples and singles, more gay than straight. “My friends liked you,” said Philippe. “They were impressed. They thought you would be dumb. I enjoyed watching you change their minds.” “Yeah, I get that a lot. I thought I felt your eyes on me.” “Who else would I look at?” “Bah! Stop flattering me. I was debating whether to tell you this or not, but I think I should. Your friend Claude cornered me in the kitchen and propositioned me.” “He did? Oh, I’ll make him regret that!” “Don’t worry, he already does. He was about to put his hand on my…” JP pointed at his lap “…my crotch, but I grabbed his wrist and squeezed it so hard… I told him I’m with you exclusively and that wouldn’t change, as long as you’ll have me.” “Oh.” “I said, ‘I want you to spread the word so no one makes the same mistake. They’ll probably ask about the bruises on your wrist.’ I think I cracked a bone.” “You should have broken it,” Philippe said under his breath. Jean Pierre shrugged his big shoulders. “I’ll go back and finish the job if you want me to.” Philippe felt a stirring in his crotch. “You would do that for me?” JP looked him in the eye. “I would. Would you like that?” His smile was enigmatic. Philippe couldn’t hide his delight, but he said, “No. Thank you, though.” “Any time,” replied Jean Pierre before closing his mouth over the last chunk of quiche on his plate. “We should open our presents now. I’m really excited about what I got you, but I’d like to save that for last if you don’t mind.” “Okay, if that’s what you want.” Philippe couldn’t imagine what exciting thing could be in such a small package. It crossed his mind that it could be an engagement ring, but they hadn’t discussed a commitment, and Jean Pierre wouldn’t do that without discussing it first. They sat on the floor near the Christmas tree and Philippe gave his impossibly hot, smart, sweet boyfriend one present after another. Jean Pierre protested, sincerely, that it was too much, and Philippe said, “It’s nothing really. Everything was marked down. I know how to find a bargain.” He was lying. Finally, it was time for Philippe to open his gift. Jean Pierre’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. Philippe prepared to pretend to like whatever it was. The small green bag didn’t have any markings on it, but the paper felt expensive. He pulled it open, pushed aside the tissue paper, and withdrew a six inch tube, like a toothpaste tube, but it wasn’t toothpaste. “What is…” He looked at the label. In fancy script it said, “Lubrificante Ingranditore Magico,” followed by “Prodotto d'Italia.” His Italian wasn’t very good, but he guessed. “Is this… lube?” Jean Pierre could barely contain himself. “Yes! But not just any lube. It’s magic!” “Oh. Wow. Um… thank you, this is just… so nice.” Philippe was really struggling to show his appreciation. Jean Pierre took Philippe’s hand and held it between his larger, warmer hands. “I know you’re disappointed, and I know you don’t believe me, but please trust me, Philippe. This is not a joke.” “Well, I didn’t think it was a joke, but… I don’t understand. Why would you give me a tube of lube for Christmas?” “I knew we would be having a lot of sex this week since you took the whole week off, so I thought this would be the perfect time to…” “You think I’m just going to have sex with you all day, every day this week? Oh…my…god.” “Please, please, please, Philippe… Cupcake… please just let me show you. Please trust me. This is special.” Philippe was understandably upset and very skeptical, but Jean Pierre seemed so sincere and serious. He was unfailingly thoughtful, often anticipating his wants and needs in a way that no one else had ever done. Plus, he was an absolute unit, upstairs and downstairs. After spending so much on his gifts, he thought he might as well have use of that gorgeous muscular body for another day or two. “Would you like to have sex now?” “YES! Yes, please! Thank you! You won’t regret it. This will blow your mind.” “Alright, calm down. Do you want to do it here or in the bedroom.” “Definitely the bedroom. You’re going to be spraying cum all over the place.” “Oh, really?” Philippe thought, “I can’t believe he had the nerve to say that! He’s the one who cums like a firehose.” He had already had his bedroom repainted once since they started seeing each other. “Let’s go then. Just tell me what to do.” So, they went into the bedroom and got naked. Philippe was told to lie on his back in the center of the bed. Jean Pierre, on his knees, straddled his legs and loomed over him, as usual. Philippe was as limp as a noodle. He was not a large man… down there. At its hardest, it was just five inches, on the low end of average. It was a source of insecurity for him no matter who he was having sex with, but it was especially difficult to feel adequate in the presence of The Redwood. His nickname for Jean Pierre was a reference to his height and overall size, but more appropriately for his huge hozzle. As much as Philippe loved to play with it, it was a little too much of a good thing, especially when they attempted anal sex. They never got very far before Philippe had to tap out. He had been using a series of butt plugs to make things easier, but realistically, he was still a year away from providing full access. Jean Pierre never complained about it and they both enjoyed other things, but he often thought, “He can’t possibly be satisfied with me. It’s just a matter of time…” Jean Pierre set the precious tube of lube on the bed sheet and asked, “What can I do to turn you on and get this started?” “Well… just flex everything you’ve got. That usually does it.” Happy to oblige, Jean Pierre flexed his incredible muscles. He always looked like he was ready for a bodybuilding competition, but he didn’t compete. He said he built his physique for his own enjoyment, and for others to enjoy if they were into that kind of thing. Philippe was definitely into that kind of thing. He never imagined he would get his hands on someone like this, but there he was. At least for a few more days. When Jean Pierre flexed for him, he didn’t do the standard poses the competitors did. He showed off his muscles in the sexiest possible ways, and after nine months he knew exactly what Philippe liked. Jean Pierre had worked up a sweat, so his muscles were glistening. He bent forward and lowered his torso until it just touched Philippe’s. He slid his moist skin up and down his body while he crunched his abs and flexed his pecs. “Do you feel that?” he said. “Do you feel how much my muscles love your body. They’re making love to you. Do you feel it?” “Yes!” Philippe gasped. He had already forgotten about the lube. Jean Pierre was that good. JP moistened his lips and came within an inch of his lover’s face. “I bet you want to kiss me. Do you want me to kiss you? Is that what you want?” “Yes!” He did. He really, really did. “Oh, that’s good… I want to kiss you, too, but there’s something else I need to do right now. Okay, baby? I promise, I’ll kiss you later, okay?” “I guess…?” He wanted that kiss so much it was driving him crazy. Jean Pierre straightened up, observed that Philippe was at full mast, and reached for the lube. He also retrieved a pair of latex gloves he had tucked away. He pulled them on, opened the tube, and squeezed a dollop of thick gel onto each of his fingertips. “I’m going to put this on you, okay? Then I’ll give you a little massage. You’ll like it.” “What is it?” “It’s the lube I bought for you. Remember? It was fifteen minutes ago.” He was proud of the fact that he could addle Phillipe’s brain with his body. That’s what he built it for, and there was no one he wanted to give it to more than Philippe. He loved this man more than life itself, and he was determined to keep him. “But… shouldn’t you be putting the lube on your thing?” “Not this time, babe. Just relax, I know what I’m doing.” He spread the gel over Philippe’s erection and his testicles, carefully massaging it into the scrotum without pinching his balls. He stroked it up and down his shaft and rubbed it into his glans with his thumb. “That feels good… really good… ohhh my… aaah… don’t stop… you’re making me so hard… I’ve never felt so hard.” Jean Pierre squeezed out more gel and applied it to all the same places, massaging it in as he did the first time. Then he wrapped one hand around the shaft and squeezed. It was surprisingly firm. He slid his hand up and down a few times.” “Ohmygod, ohmygod! Ohh! SOO good! You’re so good… this is the best ever… how can it be so good? Hooo!” Jean Pierre continued to stroke Philippe’s erection. He estimated that it was now about twice as long as it had been. It was also thick enough that his fingers couldn’t touch his thumb anymore. “That should do it.” He stopped stroking. “No! Don’t stop! Why did you stop?” “Philippe, honey, I have something to show you. Could you sit up and look at this?” “Ugh.” Philippe propped himself up on his elbows. “Well, what is it?” Jean Pierre pointed to the large phallus between Philippe’s legs. He stared at it for a minute. “Is that yours? Why is it… wait, yours is over there… where is my… JP?” “That’s yours. I made it bigger for you. Do you like it?” Philippe just stared. “Go ahead… touch it. You’ll see.” Philippe reached out and put his hand around the great big cock that seemed to be attached to him. It practically lit up with pleasurable sensations. “Holy fuck!” He stroked it. “Oh, fuuuuck! Ohhh!” He let go of it because it was overwhelming. Then he noticed the size of his balls. “This is unbelievable! How did you do this?” Jean Pierre pulled off the latex gloves and picked up the tube of lube. “With this. It’s your present. Do you like it?” “Oh my god! I love it! I’ve always wanted a… wait… you knew I wanted this, didn’t you?” “Yeah,” JP nodded. “I could tell it was bothering you, so I knew exactly what to get you for Christmas. It looks good on you. Very handsome.” “Wow! I don’t even know where to begin…” Jean Pierre crawled up the bed to lie next to Philippe. He took hold of his erection again. “I was thinking I would finish the hand job I started. I’ll introduce you to the wonders of having a big dick.” He nuzzled Philippe’s neck and gave him a few little kisses leading up to his ear. He whispered, “Do you like my big muscle butt?” Philippe smiled and whispered back. “I love your big muscle butt!” “Good, because later today I want you to fuck me with your big fat cock. I want you to fuck my brains out. Do you think you can do that?” Philippe’s cock stiffened. “I’ll try. I mean, yes. No… I will definitely… I’m gonna wreck your ass with my big fat cock!” JP grinned. “There you go. That’s perfect. I can’t wait.” ***** About two hours later Philippe was still flat on his back, breathing heavily, recovering from his latest orgasm. There was cum on the ceiling and on the wall behind the bed. And everywhere else. Jean Pierre hadn’t cum yet. He was busy licking Philippe’s cock and balls, then his belly, and his chest. He licked him clean like a giant cat licking a kitten. He cleaned his neck and his beard. Philippe liked it very much. He wanted to be licked clean every day. “I can’t cum anymore. I’m spent. Amazing… so amazing.” Jean Pierre lay next to him with his head propped on one hand. “We’ll take a little break. Then I’ll make you cum again.” He ran the tip of his finger around Philippe’s right nipple. “There’s something I want to talk to you about. I was waiting for the right time, and this seems right.” He had Philippe’s attention. “Okay. What’s up?” “I quit my job at the gym. Friday was my last day.” “Oh. Why would you do that? How will you pay your bills?” “I want to go back to school to become a physical therapist. I was already accepted to a program.” “That’s a good goal. I’m sure you’ll be great at it.” Philippe was worried. He was afraid JP would ask him to pay for it and support him while he was in school. “Is the program here, or will you have to go away?” “No, it’s here. I’m not going anywhere. I just wanted you to know my plans.” He glanced up and smiled. “I’m sure you were really proud to be dating a personal trainer. Now I’ll just be a student. Is that going to be a problem?” Philippe smiled a little but felt sad. “I’m proud to be dating you no matter what you do. I hope you know I really mean that.” “I know. I was just kidding.” He rested his hand on Philippe’s chest and started to trace his other nipple. “I love your chest. It’s really sexy.” Philippe thought, “He’s flattering me now. He’ll butter me up before asking for money.” He had to ask. “So, how will you pay for this?” “That’s not a problem. I’ve got it covered.” “Oh. Okay.” “Actually, that leads to another thing I wanted to tell you. I wasn’t completely honest with you when we met.” “Oh?” Uh oh. “I was working as a personal trainer because I enjoyed it, but I have another source of income. I have a trust fund from my grandmother. The funds became available to me when I turned 26, and I need to decide what to do with it. I was wondering if you could help me figure that out. That’s what you do for a living, right?” “Yes, but… I’m curious. Why didn’t you want to tell me that when we met?” “It’s kind of embarrassing… you know… when people know you have that kind of money, it’s hard to know if they really like you, or if they’re just interested in the money. Now I know you’re not like that. I know you just love me for my body.” He glanced at Philippe with his mischievous eyes. “I do NOT just love you for your… I mean… don’t get me wrong, I do love your body… but there’s…” “Philippe… I’m kidding. Can’t you tell when I’m kidding?” He rubbed the patch of hair on Philippe’s chest. “I could eat you alive. Do you know that? I can’t get enough of you. Can I make you cum again?” “Not yet.” Philippe put a hand on his forehead. “I’m so confused.” “What are you confused about?” “I thought… I’m sorry, but… I was afraid you were only with me for my money.” “What? Why? I know you have a good job, but… you’re probably not even a millionaire, are you?” That stung a bit. “Well, not yet, but if I average an 8 or 9% return on my investments, eventually I will be.” “I’m sure you will. Everyone says you’re good at what you do.” “So… why are interested in me?” Jean Pierre looked at him and tried to figure out if he was kidding. “Are you kidding me?” Apparently he wasn’t. “You’re the total package, man. You’re handsome, intelligent, you have a weird sense of humor, and we like the same things. You’re generous, TOO generous! I can talk to you about anything. I want to talk to you all the time. Except when we’re having sex. I love having sex with you. I love the way you love my body. I can’t tell you how hot that is, the way you look at me. God… Why would I want to be with anyone else? I’m just trying to hang on to you.” Philippe felt as though his heart might burst. This was too much to hope for. “He loves me. He actually loves ME.” There were tears in his eyes when he said, “I had no idea you felt that way.” “I’m sorry. I could have told you sooner, but I’ve been holding back because you always seem a little nervous around me. I didn’t want to scare you away by saying I love you too soon.” “I’ve been nervous around you because I didn’t believe an incredible man like you could be satisfied with me, not long term anyway. I was afraid to get too attached. I figured I would get hurt eventually, but I was trying to limit the damage, you know? But I couldn’t stop myself from loving you.” Now Jean Pierre had tears in his eyes. “Come here.” He wrapped an arm around him and rolled onto his back, so Philippe was lying on top of him, face down. They had to squirm and adjust themselves until their long cocks lay next to each other comfortably, then he wrapped his big arms around the smaller man, surrounding him with muscle. “I want to hug you so hard, but I don’t want to squish you… so tell me if it gets uncomfortable.” “It’s perfect. I love it when you do this.” “Good, I love doing it. So… first of all… I think you’ll find that I’m not that easy to get rid of. I mean, look at the size of me! Do you really think you could kick me out?” “Probably not, but it might be fun to try. You’d probably have to get rough with me, huh? Maybe throw me around a little?” JP was surprised. “Would you like that?” Philippe nodded. “Ooh, you’re a kinky old man. We’ll have a lot of fun with that.” Philippe started to rock his hips slightly. “Second… what was the second thing I wanted to say? I forgot.” “I think you were saying how much you love me and never want to leave me.” Philippe started sliding his fresh erection against JP’s abs and slightly longer cock. “Oh yeah… something about that… I’m still drawing a blank.” He was distracted by the sight of Philippe’s peachy butt moving up and down. Once he saw it, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. His cock thickened between their bodies. Philippe felt it. “What do you plan to do with the rest of that lube?” “I have an idea… but it’s your present… what do you think?” Philippe started humping the valley between Jean Pierre’s abs. The hair along his treasure trail provided a wonderful new experience for his much larger, more sensitive dick. “Do you still have those gloves?” “Yes.” JP tightened his abs, giving Philippe another new sensation. “Ahh! Put the gloves on and lube my butt hole… generously. Get your big finger in there and spread it all around inside me. Do it now.” Jean Pierre’s powerful cock hardened so quickly it almost lifted Philippe. “Yes, sir. I will do that immediately, but you’ll have to stop moving around. Your hot butt is all over the place.” Philippe stopped humping and gave JP a greedy wet kiss on the mouth, then grabbed one of his nipples and twisted it hard as he climbed off his hot-as-hell massive boyfriend. The Redwood flew upwards and started growing. He turned around, straddled Jean Pierre doggy style, and stuck his butt right in his face. “How’s that?” “Perfect!” Without asking, JP pulled it towards his face and started licking his hole. “OH! You don’t have to… oh, yes… yes you do have to do that… oh my… god… keep… that… uhn…” Jean Pierre had been wanting to eat his ass for months now but was afraid to ask. He couldn’t pass this up. When he was satisfied, he wiped his saliva off, put on the latex gloves, and prepared the lube. “Are you ready?” “Yes, do it!” Philippe was staring right at The Redwood in all its glory, swaying majestically. He wanted to grab it and shove as much as he could into his mouth, but he needed to let Jean Pierre concentrate. He did have some questions though. “Jean Pierre… where did you get this lube? I’ve never heard of anything like it.” “No, you wouldn’t have. It was developed by a chemist who worked for my grandmother’s company. He claimed that it contained a magic potion that had been passed down in his family for generations. She was impressed by his accomplishment, but she knew it couldn’t be released to the public. So she paid him enough money to keep him quiet and set him up for life. Then she gathered up all his research and chemicals and equipment and locked them away where only she had access to them.” “What kind of company did she own?” “You’ve probably heard of it… Incantesimi Cosmetics. She started with a tiny shop in Turin and gradually built it into an international business. She was amazing.” Philippe was astonished. Of course he had heard of it! It was one of the most admired brands in the world, known for it’s uncompromising commitment to the quality of their products. For that reason it never went public despite numerous attempts to acquire it. So that meant… the gorgeous young man who was busy lubing his ass was one of a handful of family members who owned a company worth more than a billion Euros. Philippe’s realization triggered an involuntary constriction of his anal sphincter. “Hey!” Jean Pierre protested, “Are you trying to break my finger? Relax, I’m almost done.” He paused to assess his work. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” “No, it’s fine, thank you.” “We have to wait for this to be absorbed. I don’t want to get any of it on the thing you like best about me.” “Here we go again. You’re right, The Redwood is your best feature.” “Wait a minute… I thought I was Redwood.” “You are Redwood… because of how big you are. But this beauty is THE Redwood. I thought you understood that.” “You refer to my dick as The Redwood? God, that’s so hot!” His excitement was visible as The Redwood became even more engorged… noticeably fatter and a little bit taller. Philippe couldn’t resist anymore. He grabbed it with both hands, put his mouth over the throbbing head, and started sucking. He loved the feel of it in his mouth as well as the unique taste. Jean Pierre had become his favorite flavor. “Oh, fuck that feels good!” JP grabbed hold of Philippe’s butt, squeezing one cheek in each of his big hands. He kneaded them like stress balls a few times before remembering how strong his grip was. He eased off and wondered if the imprints of his hands would be visible the following day. On second thought, he gave them one more hard squeeze just to be sure. It brought Philippe off his cock. “Ow! What are you doing to my butt?” Jean Pierre didn’t think twice before saying, “I’m leaving my handprints on your ass so everyone will know it’s mine.” “Oh, that’s so fucking hot! I can’t wait to see them.” JP had guessed correctly. Philippe spun around. “I want your cock inside me right now! I’m not waiting any longer! I don’t care what you have to do, just do it now!” Jean Pierre was startled but incredibly turned on by this change of tone. He quickly reached for the bottle of regular lube in the drawer of the bedside table. Before he could open it, Philippe said, “Give me that.” He grabbed it and issued further orders. “I want you flat on your back, spread eagle. Come on!” Jean Pierre spread his limbs into a giant X while Philippe knelt between his legs. He squeezed a whole handful of the lube into his palm and started glazing The Redwood with a generous coat. JP enjoyed watching it, and feeling it, of course. Then Philippe squeezed out another portion for himself and lubed his newly enlarged butthole. Without further ado, he stood up and positioned himself over Jean Pierre’s erection. “I’m curious… how many guys have been able to get this thing inside them?” “None who lived,” said Jean Pierre with a serious expression. “You’re joking, right?” “Yeah. No one has been able to do any better than you have, and no one has tried harder than you did. I never even considered using the magic lube with anyone but you. Are you having second thoughts?” “Hell no!” Philippe pressed his hole against the spongy head and popped it through the sphincter. There was no pain as there had been during previous attempts. “So far, so good, babe. Don’t try to go too fast… I don’t want to hurt you.” Philippe was not as patient as Jean Pierre. Once the gate had opened, he knew he would go all the way. In one smooth motion, he sat all the way down until he felt Jean Pierre’s balls against his butt. The Redwood was inside him. Jean Pierre was shocked and overwhelmed. He drew in a deep, deep breath and held it. His eyes were as big as saucers. Then he exhaled in one long moan of absolute joy that a part of his body had found its home as surely as he had found the love of his life. Philippe’s reaction was similar. He felt himself get filled with hot flesh that brought the throb of his lover’s heartbeat as close to his own heart as it could possibly get. It was not entirely painless, but the pain soon dissolved into a warm ache of assurance that he and Jean Pierre had become one inseparable entity. Jean Pierre brought his knees up so Philippe could lean back against his thighs. He propped himself on his elbows. They looked into each other’s eyes and saw that their mutual feelings transcended any differences in size, age, income, or net worth. They were committed to each other for life. Philippe felt his own erection throb as it pointed at Jean Pierre. Perhaps it wasn’t the most appropriate time to ask, but he had to know… “Jean Pierre… if you don’t mind me asking… how big is your trust fund?” “Oh… last I checked it was around 400 million, but it’s probably more now. I don’t pay much attention to it.” Philippe expelled a powerful jet of cum that hit Jean Pierre right on the chin before pasting a few more ropes to his pecs and abs. “Ooooooooh… I’m so sorry, Jean Pierre! I didn’t mean to…” “Don’t apologize! That was amazing!” “It’s just… I can’t help it, but… your big fat trust fund is so fucking hot…” Jean Pierre grinned. “I’m glad you like it, because you’ll be managing my investment portfolio from now on.” “Oh! You’re gonna make me cum again!” “You bet I’m gonna make you cum again! We’ve got all week to enjoy this, right?” “Yes… yes, we do. There’s nothing else I want to do this week.” “Me neither.” “There’s just one problem…” “What’s that, Cupcake?” “You’re going to have a hard time topping this Christmas gift next year.” Jean Pierre beamed. “Well… I’ve got a year to think about it.” The End

I wrote this story last year as part of a collaboration with @lionlouis who asked for volunteers to write captions or stories for the illustrations he made for a muscle growth Advent calendar. The illustrations were provided as story prompts, and a few of us wrote whatever we wanted to fit the pictures. This was the unfinished illustration that inspired the story. The completed, colored illustration appears below at the appropriate place within the story. Fred Gets Fed By Fallen Away with an illustration by lionlouis Fred replied to an ad in the classified section of a local newspaper he picked up on his way out of the grocery store. He didn’t know there were still old-school personal ads in any newspaper, but this one had all the usual categories – M seeking F, F seeking M, M seeking M, etc. The last category was labeled “Alternative.” Those were often interesting to read, and that’s where he saw the ad: “Wealthy M seeking slim-waisted, hungry M, age 18 to 35, who is ready and willing to be stuffed with all the food this generous enabler can fit into his growing body. Please reply with a recent photo of exposed waistline. Dick pics will be disqualified.” Fred never imagined there were people who would provide this service. Ever since he took an interest in bodybuilding at the late age of thirty-one, he struggled with the bulking phase recommended in all the books and articles he read. No matter how much he ate, he couldn’t acquire the soft layer of fat he saw on the younger men at the gym. Building muscle, on the other hand, was much easier than he expected. In fact, his gains had been so rapid that those young guys started calling him ‘Roid Boy’ in a very disrespectful way. Fred never even considered using steroids, and if he knew where to get some, he couldn’t afford them on his salary as a newly minted librarian with staggering student loan payments. He also couldn’t afford any of the supplements those guys were always swallowing. He could barely afford groceries. So, it was understandable that he would be excited about this ad in the paper. It was like a dream come true. He met the criteria – he was thirty-three years old, he had a shredded thirty-inch waistline, and he was always ravenously hungry. Fred bought the cheapest food available – family packs of low-grade ground beef; whole turkeys when they were on sale; mountains of instant ramen noodles; huge jars of Dollar Store peanut butter; dozens of boxes of generic macaroni and cheese with packets of glowing orange cheese powder; and 8 lb. cartons of lard as a substitute for expensive butter. He ate as much of that stuff as he could afford. He would never tell anyone at the gym what he was eating; he knew it was all wrong. And he was too shy to talk to those guys anyway. They were all so full of themselves and were often mean to anyone who didn’t live up to their standards. That included him, even though his stats were better than any of theirs. Who knew what their standards were? Fred just stayed away from them and focused on lifting heavier weights every week. It seemed like he would be maxing out the weight sets pretty soon. He wondered who would be in charge of ordering more when he needed them. After seeing the ad, Fred didn’t hesitate to take a photo of his narrow, flat-bellied waist, and another of his driver’s license to prove his age. The weight shown on his license was about 50 lbs. lower than his current weight, but the ad didn’t ask about that, so he assumed it wouldn’t matter as long as his waist was slim. He composed a text message stating that his appetite was never satisfied, and even if it were, he would probably keep eating as much as he could as long as there was food available. He attached the photos and sent it to the mobile number listed in the ad. About ten minutes later, he was surprised to see an incoming call from that number. With trembling hands, he answered the call. The man on the other end introduced himself as George and immediately said how excited he was to receive Fred’s photograph. “From what I can see, you must be some kind of athlete. Is that right?” “Well, I work out regularly, but I never played sports. Is that a requirement? I used to go bowling occasionally.” George assured him that it was not a requirement. “I’ve just never had an applicant who had no visible fat under his skin.” Fred apologized for his condition and said, “I hope you can fix that. I really need the help of an expert like you. I would be so grateful if you could fatten me up.” There was no way Fred could have known this, but George felt dizzy because so much blood had rushed into his penis when he heard Fred’s plea. “You’re perfect!” he exclaimed. “Are you free this weekend?” “I’m free every weekend, and I’m a lifetime member of the ‘clean plate club.’ There won’t be a scrap of food left in your house if that’s what you want. I’m just so grateful for your generosity.” George was swooning. “He plays the role so well,” he thought. “This can’t be his first time.” He couldn’t wait to meet this skinny young man with such a big appetite. He felt as though he hit the jackpot. He gave Fred his address and told him to show up at 8:00 am for a huge breakfast to start the day. Fred was salivating at the thought. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll be there early, and you’ll hear my stomach growling before I even knock on the door!” As soon as the call ended, George was masturbating. He was quickly rewarded with the best orgasm he’d had in years. He wiped himself clean with a damp cloth and headed out to a warehouse grocery store to get another carload of high calorie food on top of the ample supply he already had in the basement. ***** As promised, Fred was on George’s doorstep at ten minutes to eight on Saturday morning. The size of the house was proof that George had been honest when he described himself as wealthy. George had been up since the crack of dawn to prepare for Fred’s arrival. When he opened the front door, he was so startled he took a quick step backwards and stared at Fred with his mouth hanging open. This was not the man he had pictured. Not at all. Fred was about 6-foot-2 and muscular, like a bodybuilder. His shoulders were almost as wide as the doorway, but his waist was just as lean and narrow as it looked in the photograph. George would have been intimidated by his powerful physique, but one look at his pleasant, gentle face reassured him that he had nothing to fear. With his round, wire-rimmed glasses, he looked like a schoolteacher or an accountant. He was obviously not the type of arrogant jock George would associate with such an impressive body. Fred was excited to be there but was confused by the look on George’s face. “He’s disappointed,” he thought, and his self-doubt swooped in to plant a cruel assumption: “Am I really that ugly?” He tried to guess what was wrong. “I’m sorry, am I too early? I can wait out here for a while and you can just let me know when…” “No! Not at all. Please come in, Fred. I was just surprised that you’re so muscular. I don’t usually get… I mean most of the guys who respond to my ad are not…” He was trying to think of a way to describe what Fred was not. “Well… they don’t exercise at all, so…” “I’m sorry,” said Fred. “I exercise too much. I’m kind of obsessed.” “You have nothing to apologize for. Your physique is amazing.” “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Fred blushed. He was less comfortable with compliments than he was with criticism. George saw his cheeks get red and thought, “He’s adorable.” He extended his arm for a handshake. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m George.” Fred accepted his handshake. “I’m Fred. But you probably knew that.” “Well, I hope you’re hungry.” “You have no idea.” “I probably made too much of everything.” “I doubt it. I’ve never felt so full that I couldn’t eat more.” George liked the sound of that. “Let’s get started, then. We can talk while I watch you eat.” He showed Fred into his elegant dining room and had him sit at the head of the table. “You’ll be eating with me, right?” “Maybe a little. After cooking all morning, I don’t have much of an appetite.” “I never understand what people mean when they say that. How do you make your appetite go away?” “Umm… by eating? Let me bring out some food, then we can continue talking.” George went into the kitchen and reappeared pushing a metal cart loaded with platters and bowls heaped with food. Fred’s eyes grew big at the sight of it all. His stomach growled loudly. “Please start eating, don’t wait for me. Start with these eggs before they get cold.” George placed what looked like a mixing bowl in front of Fred. It held the largest pile of scrambled eggs Fred had ever seen. “You can eat with the serving spoon. It’ll be faster.” Fred didn’t need to be asked twice. He grabbed the spoon, wrapped his arm around the bowl as if to say, “All mine!” and he started eating. With the first mouthful, he realized the eggs were scrambled with cheddar cheese. They were so delicious, he moaned loudly, almost like he was having an orgasm. (He was not having an orgasm… yet.) He just kept shoveling the cheesy eggs into his mouth and swallowing as fast as he could. Meanwhile, George was filling the table with platters and bowls full of different breakfast foods: fried potatoes, crisp bacon and sausages, buttermilk biscuits, creamy grits, blueberry muffins, and fresh fruit salad. He placed a large pitcher of orange juice near Fred’s right hand and said, “You don’t need a glass. Just drink from the pitcher.” Fred picked it up and downed half of the juice in a few gulps, then started scraping the bottom of the egg bowl. “I’ll take that if you’re done,” said George. “I need to bring out the pancakes and French toast.” Fred handed him the bowl and immediately reached for the fried potatoes with one hand and the platter of meat with the other hand. He had a slice of bacon in his mouth before he finished swallowing the last spoonful of eggs. While he was in the kitchen, George tried to understand why someone like Fred would want to be fattened up. He had a feeling Fred was not familiar with the terms “gainer” and “encourager,” but was interested in gaining fat for some other, non-sexual reason. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but Fred seemed like a sweet man, and he had all this food now… “I might as well see how this plays out. After all, he is kind of sexy. It would be hot to see him with a blubbery gut.” George wheeled the cart back to the dining room just in time to see Fred finishing up the fruit salad. All the other dishes were empty except for two biscuits and one blueberry muffin. “Wow! That was fast, Fred. How did you eat all that food so quickly?” “I’m not sure. I’m surprised, too. I guess I was just so hungry I couldn’t stop. But I tasted every bit of it. Those grits were delicious. Do you have any more of those?” “Yes, there’s more in the pot, I can reheat them. Your tummy must be getting nice and round after all that food. Do you mind if I check it?” “Umm… no one has ever asked me that before, but I don’t see why not. I mean, that’s what I need help with, so… sure. Let me take off this hoodie, I’m feeling too warm.” As Fred pulled off his grey fleece jacket, George tried to get a better look at his proportions. His waist was remarkably narrow, so his torso looked like an upside-down triangle. It also made his round butt look like it stuck straight out, like a shelf. “There’s no shortage of meat in that department,” thought George. “Maybe he’ll let me investigate it later.” Fred was wearing a long-sleeved cotton button-up shirt with the tails hanging out over his dark green corduroy pants, so his belly was still well covered. George walked right up to him and said, “Lift up your shirt so I can see.” Fred complied, pulling up his shirt to reveal the same hard, flat abdomen that was in the photo he sent to George. The only difference Fred noticed was that his abdominal muscles looked thicker and more clearly defined. He chalked that up to different lighting. “Where did all that food go?” George asked, incredulous. “No one can eat that much and not have a rounded gut!” “I can,” said Fred. “That’s why I need your help. All the other guys at the gym can bulk up by eating more calories than they burn, but no matter how much I eat, I can’t get any fat to hang onto me. I think there might be something wrong with me. Or am I just doing this wrong?” “Are you saying you can’t gain weight?” “No, I’ve gained a lot of weight – about 50 lbs. in the last year, but it’s all muscle. Everything I eat turns into muscle. Can you help me? Have you helped other men gain weight?” “I certainly have. I’ve been very successful. If anyone can fatten you up, it’s me. How much fat do you want to add?” “I don’t know. What was your biggest success?” “Would you like to see a photograph?” “Yes, that would be helpful.” George retrieved his mobile phone and looked through his photographs. “Here… this is my most beautiful boy.” He turned his phone so Fred could see it.” Fred gasped and covered his mouth. “Oh, my goodness!” The photograph showed a young man with the largest stomach he had ever seen. It looked like he was cuddling a baby whale, but it was his own body. “Is he okay?” “Yes, he’s perfectly healthy. And look how jolly he is. I did that for him.” “Oh, gosh. Well… I don’t want that much. I would just like some soft padding over my muscles, and maybe a little spare tire around my waist. I won’t keep it for too long. It’s just temporary.” “Well, Fred, that’s different from what I had in mind when I placed the ad. I was looking for someone who wanted to grow very large, like my boy in the picture.” “Oh… I’m sorry. I should have known better. It sounded too good to be true…” “Hang on, now. I didn’t say I won’t help you. You’ve presented me with a unique challenge, and I’m curious to see how this plays out. We’ve already started, so…” “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Fred asked. “This was obviously a misunderstanding. I would completely understand if you wanted to call it off.” “I appreciate that, Fred. You’re a real sweetheart, do you know that?” “Oaf! Stop, George, you don’t have to say that. I know I’m nothing special.” “That’s not true! Someday you’ll find someone who helps you see how special you are.” “Well… I hope so. But I’m not ready yet. I need to make myself more attractive before I start looking for someone. That’s why I got interested in bodybuilding. A lot of guys seem to like a more athletic physique, so… I’m working on it.” “I think you’re already there, Fred. But if you want to put some pudge on top of all those muscles, you’re in the right place. Sit back down and get ready to be stuffed with more food than you’ve ever eaten in your life. I won’t let you leave here until you can’t eat another bite. You can stay overnight if you must.” Fred smiled. “Yes, sir. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” George put two stainless steel covered warming pans on the table. “Now… would you like pancakes or French toast?” “Why not both?” “That’s the spirit! You don’t mind eating right out of the pans, do you?” “I was just about to ask if I could.” “Here’s a bottle of warm maple syrup, and a pitcher of melted butter.” “Oooh, I haven’t had butter for a long time. I’ll probably need another bottle of syrup and some brown sugar for the French toast. I like it sweet. And a gallon of whole milk if you have some.” “Coming right up!” Fred started to eat… ***** 11:45 am… After Fred had consumed all the hot breakfast food, George brought out a dozen boxes of various breakfast cereals. While Fred ate those, George made a large pot of oatmeal porridge with 3 lbs. of rolled oats, a pound of raisins, walnuts, brown sugar, butter, and a pint of heavy cream. Fred was thrilled with that. While eating it from the pot, he heard the quiet popping of threads and recognized the sound of seams splitting. He paused to look down at himself and realized that his corduroy pants were stretched over his massive quads like sausage casings. His shirtsleeves were just as tight, and his bulging pecs had popped open the second button from the top and were threatening the third. “I was afraid this would happen,” he said under his breath. He finished the oatmeal and stood up to take the pot into the kitchen. He knew immediately that he was taller. “Oh, no… this is worse than it’s ever been.” He slipped his free hand under the front of his shirt and felt the same lean waistline he had when he arrived. Fred went to the kitchen and offered to help George wash all the dishes and pots and pans from breakfast. The dishwasher could only hold so much. George protested, but Fred insisted. They needed to talk. “George… I think we should stop this. It’s not going to work.” “What? You can’t give up after one meal! We’re just getting started. Trust me; I know what I’m doing.” “George, stop what you’re doing and look at me. I’m growing.” George turned and noticed how tight Fred’s clothes were. “Are you starting to get fat?” Fred shook his head. “It’s not fat.” He lifted his shirt to show his ripped abs. “Do you see any fat? It’s all muscle. I told you, everything I eat turns into muscle. There’s something wrong with me.” George could see Fred was upset, but his reason for being upset was so illogical that it was hard to believe he wasn’t kidding. “Let me ask you, Fred… what is the purpose of bulking? Why are you so determined to put fat on your body?” “Because that’s the phase when you gain more muscle. Then you cut to get rid of the fat and expose the larger muscles. That’s the way all the serious bodybuilders do it.” “So what if you skipped a step, but the results were the same? Would that be so bad?” “But nobody does it that way. I want to do it the right way, like everybody else. I want to be normal for a change.” George looked at him for a long minute and said, “Why? Normal is boring.” “No it’s not. Everybody wants to be normal.” “I don’t. Let me ask you this… what does it feel like to have bigger muscles now than you did a few hours ago?” “I feel… great… really strong, and… kind of… sexy.” “That’s right! You’re a bigger, sexier beast than you were when you walked through my front door. And you got that way by eating enough food for twenty people, and you didn’t even have to work out! But you’re so busy worrying about being normal that you don’t appreciate that.” Fred felt like he had been slapped in the face, but in a good way. “Huh… when you put it that way… it is kind of awesome.” No one had ever called him a sexy beast before. He liked the sound of that. And he was busting out of his clothes… kind of like the Hulk. He suddenly realized that the problem he had been complaining about would be a fantasy come true for many people. In fact, it was his fantasy come true. How could he have been so blind? George interrupted his thoughts. “Uhh, Fred… it looks like you’re growing everywhere. Can I help you with that?” “With what?” George gestured towards his crotch, and as soon as Fred saw it, he tried to cover it up. “Oh my gosh! How embarrassing…” “That is nothing to be embarrassed about, Fred; it may be your best feature. May I be of service in your hour of need?” “My hour of what now? What service?” George realized he would have to be crystal clear. “Fred, I would like to suck your dick and swallow the contents of your balls. I’m very good at it. May I get started now?” Fred was stunned. “But no one has ever… I’ve never had…” “Oh, my… you poor thing. That’s all the more reason for you to let me handle this. Sit down over there, try to relax, and let old George blow you and your mind. I’m going to enjoy this as much as you will.” ***** 12:15 pm… When he experienced his first orgasm, Fred had accidentally crushed the chair he was sitting on and was sprawled on his back on the kitchen floor. His eyes were as wide as saucers. His thick chest rose and fell with lungsful of hot breath. He had never appreciated his body more than he did at that moment. He kept thinking, “All these years I could have been doing that?!” George stood nearby, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin. “That was satisfying. I certainly won’t be needing any lunch, but I ordered two six-foot party subs for you, Fred. I hope that will put a dent in your appetite.” ***** 2:35 pm… The dining room table was littered with empty wrappers from the submarine sandwich shop. Fred was on the floor with his back against the wall, legs spread wide, clothing in tatters. His muscular abdomen looked like a perfectly vertical stone wall, with no trace of fat. His right hand was kneading his softening junk. “I didn’t think it would work twice in one day, but it was just as good as the first time! Is that normal?” George was slouched on a chair with one hand resting on his newly acquired round belly. “For a stud like you being serviced by a master practitioner, there might not be any limits within a given day. For a man my age, one orgasm a day is an accomplishment. But I will never be too old to enjoy a spectacular masculine body like yours. This is such a rare treat for me, Fred. I haven’t been near a hot hunk like you in twenty years or longer. Thank you for responding to my ad. It’s turning out rather well, don’t you think?” “Are you kidding? This is the best day of my life so far. I can’t thank you enough, George. Uh… do you have any snacks? Chips, maybe? That blow job cranked up my appetite.” George grinned. “That’s funny… it had the opposite effect on mine.” He stood up and headed for the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink with those chips? 5:10 pm… Fred was sitting on the couch in the living room because it was the only piece of furniture large enough to hold him. He knew it wouldn’t withstand his weight much longer. Fortunately, George didn’t seem to care about the damage. It almost seemed like he was encouraging it. “George, are you sure you want to keep feeding me? You should know by now that my appetite will never be satisfied. And this isn’t anything like what you wanted when you placed that ad.” “I know it wasn’t, but I’m enjoying it a lot more than I expected. I was never into big muscle guys when I was younger, and I’m not sure that has changed… but there’s something about you, Fred… you’re different.” “Different? How?” “You’re just so fucking sexy! You were a hot guy when you showed up this morning, but now, after watching your beautiful muscles get bigger and bigger… you’re like deep fried sex on a stick! I can’t even explain it, but my cock has been hard for five hours straight.” “It has? You’ve been holding out on me. I want to see it. Can I see it? And why do you still have all your clothes on while I’m sitting here buck naked? It’s not fair.” “I don’t want to be naked around you, Fred. I would be too self-conscious.” Fred fixed him with a stern look. “You know I could just tear your clothes off, don’t you? It would take me about 30 seconds. But I don’t want to disrespect you like that, so drop your pants before this gets ugly.” George seemed to vibrate with excitement. “Holy fucking shit! That was the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me in my whole fucking life!” He quickly unfastened his pants and dropped them, then tore open his shirt, sending buttons flying, and tossed it aside. Finally, he dropped his boxers and stood before Fred in all his naked glory, with his rounded jizz-belly and his erection sticking out at a perfect 90-degrees. Fred tossed away his stern expression and leaned forward to look at George’s boner. “You’ve been that hard for five hours? For me?” “You bet your giant bubble butt I have! I may be a middle-aged man, but all of my parts work hard… so to speak.” “Let’s find out.” As quick as a flash, Fred put his hands around George’s waist, lifted him over the coffee table, and popped his entire boner into his spacious mouth. George let out a high-pitched squeak, then fell into stunned silence. Fred rolled his big tongue around the erection and pulled, very slowly, until it almost cleared the wet tongue-tube, then paused before pushing it back in. George was vibrating again. It pleased Fred tremendously. He only had to repeat this innovative slow stroke a few times before George delivered all the splooge he could spare. Leaving the dick in place, Fred swished his tongue around to get the full flavor of George’s offering, then extracted the ex-boner through his pursed lips. “Tasty!” was the summary of Fred’s evaluation. “Sweeter than I expected, but I would definitely order that again.” Still holding George by the waist, he asked, “How was it? I’ve never sucked anyone off before.” Recovering the power of speech, George croaked, “You’re a natural. Five stars.” “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it.” Fred gently pressed his thumb against George’s belly and heard a squishy noise. “Is that all my cum in there?” George nodded. “Awesome. Why is that so hot? Your belly is boning me up again.” “Could you set me down, please?” “Oh, yeah. Sorry. There you go.” George took a deep breath and blew it back out. “Fred…” “Yes?” “As soon as I catch my breath… and after I put the Lasagna in the oven… I’m going to suck your dick so hard that your eyeballs will fall into your skull.” A broad grin spread across Fred’s face. “You say the prettiest things.” ***** 7:34 pm… While anxiously waiting for the lasagna to come out of the oven, Fred took an interest in the gallon can of extra virgin olive oil George left out on the counter. It gave him ideas. “George, do you need the rest of this olive oil?” “Not really. I have another can.” “Good. I just thought of a fun activity we could do together.” Fred popped the nozzle open, tipped the can forward, and filled his cupped hand with oil. He splashed the oil over the front of his body and started to spread it all over his skin. “You can help with this part if you want to.” George was ready and willing to follow his lead. While Fred took care of his giant shoulders, George knelt to do the tops of his feet, his ankles, his calves… He hadn’t paid much attention to these parts of Fred and was surprised to discover a distribution of fine black hair, especially on his shins and calves. “Sexy,” he thought. As he moved above the knee to his massive, rippling quads, he found more to love. George was getting lost in his enjoyment of all that muscle, stroking and massaging it until he bumped his head on something hard. He looked up to find a giant erection looming over him. Fred said, “Now, look what you’ve done! You’ll have to get that out of the way before we can do our fun activity.” George smiled. “Not to worry, sir. I have experience with this kind of problem. I’ll get right on it.” True to his word, he opened his mouth as wide as possible and got right on it. Experience had taught him that he could resolve this specific issue slowly or quickly. This situation called for a rapid response, so he pulled out all the stops. The climax arrived so quickly that it caught Fred off guard. He roared with pleasure before one of his knees buckled. He tilted to one side and awkwardly fell to the floor with an explosive “Boom!” He wasn’t injured, but a section of flooring would need to be replaced. The most remarkable part of this little story is that when Fred came to rest and started laughing about his clumsiness, George was still locked onto his deflating cock, sucking, and swallowing the last drops of Fred’s cum! When he finally let it slide out of his mouth, his primary concern was that he might have ruined Fred’s fun activity. “No, of course not!” said Fred, “but it will certainly be less exciting than that blow job! You are truly gifted.” George wiped his mouth on his forearm and smiled. “I get as much out of it as you do.” Fred reached for the can of olive oil and poured some into his palm. “I need to oil you up now. C’mere.” Fred took his time going over George’s body, but he paid special attention to the broad, firm curve of his increasingly distended abdomen. “How many of my loads have you swallowed today? I lost count.” “Fred, the only answer I will ever give to that question is, “Not enough.” Maybe I deprived myself for too long, and now I’m making up for lost time, but I absolutely love sucking your dick. It’s gorgeous, it tastes great, and it always leaves me satisfied.” He rubbed his stomach as he spoke. “You know… I think I’m starting to understand the thing you do with those other guys. This belly of yours is so incredibly sexy, it’s driving me nuts. Knowing that you’re filled with something that came from me, and that you want to be filled with my cum… it makes me feel so powerful.” “Well… you are powerful, Fred. You just need to really see and recognize your power. I feel something like that when I’m feeding you… and the others… but especially you. Just… look at you... you’re awesome! And I played a part in making you awesome. “Yeah… you know, this is interesting to talk about, but it’s going to make my fun activity seem really lame, now.” “No! Tell me what it is. Let’s do it.” “Okay… I thought we could play slip-n-slide, except I want you to be slipping and sliding around on me. Like… on my body. I thought it would be a good way for you to feel my muscles… up close… and personal. What do you think?” George wondered if he had died and gone to heaven. “This giant young muscle god wants me to climb on top of him, naked and oily, and slide my body all over his huge, muscular naked body… like he’s an amusement park ride?” George said, “I fucking love it. Let’s go.” ***** 9:20 pm… Fred sat on the floor of George’s living room with one elbow resting on what was left of the sofa. He had just finished eating 30 lbs. of lasagna (yes, I said 30 lbs.) for dinner. That’s how much George made, and as a member of the ‘clean plate club’, Fred had no choice but to finish it. Not that he minded. He loved lasagna. Sitting next to him on the floor, with his back propped against Fred’s thick pectoral muscles, was George, the owner of the house, a middle-aged, moderately wealthy man who had placed an ad seeking a young man who was willing to eat enormous amounts of food with the intention of growing very fat. This would be done for the mutual sexual pleasure of George and the young man. That did not happen. Curiously, George had a grotesquely distended abdomen that one would assume would be uncomfortable, if not painful, if he weren’t gently caressing it with an expression of contented bliss. “You know,” said Fred, “none of this went the way I thought it would when I woke up this morning.” “Amen to that,” said George. “Never in a million years would I have pictured this. Are you sorry you answered my ad?” “Definitely not! Are you sorry I showed up instead of the type of guy you wanted?” “You know I’m not. I can’t remember if I was ever this happy.” “I know I was never this happy. But how could I end up feeling so good about not getting what I was hoping for?” “Well, you were hoping to get fed. I fed you.” “You certainly did! Except…” “Except what?” “I’m not complaining, but I thought there would be dessert after the lasagna.” “I was going to take you out for ice cream, but I’m not sure what people would think of us. They might point and stare.” “Who cares? Fuck ‘em.” “Wow! What happened to that timid, insecure guy who was so desperate to be normal?” Fred smiled. “I don’t know anyone like that.” “Do you think anyone will recognize you?” “I still have the same face, don’t I? I’m just a little bigger.” “A little?” “I’ll just pretend I was always this big. It’ll be fine. There are a few people, though… I would want to make sure they remember me.” “Who?” “Just some guys at the gym.” ***** The Gym, Monday, 4:15 pm… The muscle-bros were in their usual spot, the place where most people would see them so they could show off their biceps and butts, flirt with some hotties, and make fun of anyone they didn’t like, which was most people. They were shooting the shit, telling rude jokes, and sometimes picking up weights. Suddenly they noticed the usual background noise had faded into silence. Then a shadow fell over them. They all turned at the same time and saw the largest man they had ever seen or imagined. “Hey, dudes.” said Fred. “How ya doin’?” “Ho-lee ffffuuuck!” said one. “Who the… wait a minute…,” said another. And a third said under his breath, “Roid Boy?” Fred stepped closer to that one and leaned down. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” The guy knew better than to repeat that nickname. “D-duuude… heyyyy… ‘sssup?” One of the louder ones stepped up. “What the ffuuck happened? How did you get so… fffucking… HUGE?” Fred straightened up. “Is it noticeable? Does it show?” “B-bro! You’re like… twice as big as you…” “Ha! Cut it out! As if that could happen. What are you smokin’, dude? Can I get some?” “No, surriouslee! You are fukkin’… MASSIVE! And… TALLER!” Fred lowered his voice. “I’m concerned about you, man. You need to cut back on that shit. Just say no. You hear me?” He looked at each of the four faces. They were all afraid of him. Then he boomed, “ALRIGHT! IT’S TRUE!” They all jumped. “I’ve made some gains… HARD EARNED gains.” He lifted one arm and flexed a bicep that made all their eyes pop out. “I changed my diet. Y’all know how important that is. So now I eat whatever the fuck I want, as often as I want, except I’m eating enough for twenty men… okay, thirty men if I’m being honest. I guess it’s working for me. Whataya think?” He leaned into a most muscular pose that made them all take a step back. “I guess I need to work on that one.” “Anyway… the reason I wanted to talk to you guys is to find out… because I think you would know… who do I talk to about getting heavier weights in here? I mean… what is the point of coming to the gym if there’s nothing here to challenge me? You guys must be having the same problem, right? Big guys like you…” He started scanning their bodies with hungry eyes. “Did you hear me? I’m waiting…” They all looked at each other nervously until one spoke. “Uhh, the truth is… we haven’t had that problem.” “WHAT?!” They all jumped again. “GET THE FUCK OUTA HERE! There’s no WAY you big dawgs are making do with 200 lb. dumbbells.” He looked each of them in the eye. The biggest of the four shook his head. “Dude… there aren’t any 200 lb. dumbbells at this gym.” Fred looked each of them in the eye again. “Are you sure about that?” They all nodded. Fred snatched a handful of the biggest one’s shirt and hoisted him off the ground with one hand. Then he grabbed another with his opposite hand and lifted him as well. “How much do you guys weigh, then?” He curled them up and down to estimate their weight. “You’re so fucking light!” The bigger guy protested, “I weigh 210!” Fred curled him closer to his face and looked down at his own bulging bicep. “That’s not what this muscle says. Tell the truth.” The young man turned red and whispered, “203.” “Maybe after a big meal,” said Fred. He turned to the other one and before Fred could even ask the question, he blurted, “185!” “The truth. Good choice.” Fred nodded. “But dude… that’s so puny. Do you even work out?” “I do!” he wailed. “Alright, alright… don’t start crying. I was just being mean, like you guys are.” Fred looked at the two who were still on their feet. They were terrified. Fred was already tired of sinking to their level. “Let’s speed things up.” He shoved the first two towards the other two until he was able to grab two men in each fist, then he lifted. “There we go! That’s more like it. I can finally get a little bit of a workout.” Fred started doing biceps curls with the four men dangling from his fists. He used good form and took it seriously. At the same time, he spoke to them in a low voice. “This is so damned awesome. Being able to use meatheads like you as free weights has been a fantasy of mine for a long time. I can’t believe I’m doing it.” He continued, “When I first came to this gym as a beginner, you guys made me feel like shit. You could have offered advice or encouraged me, but you chose to make me feel small and weak compared to you. I worked my ass off, alone, without any help. And when I got bigger and stronger than you guys, I still felt small and weak. That’s the kind of damage you can do to someone. So today I’m making you feel small and weak. Compared to me… you are. Don’t ever do that to anyone again… do you hear me?” They all nodded. Fred paused to shake them all like ragdolls. “I said, DO YOU HEAR ME?” “YES! Yes, we do,” they all said. “That’s better. If you decide to make anyone feel small and weak, and I find out about it… you will disappear from this earth, and no one will ever find so much as a drop of blood or a bone fragment. Understood?” In unison they said, “YES, SIR!” “One last thing… Each of you is going to do 50 hours of volunteer work for the library. You’ll be reading stories to children. And when you’re reading… you’d better put some feeling into it. There’s nothing worse than a monotone delivery when someone is reading a children’s story. Kids deserve decent acting as much as adults. Understood?” “Yes. Sure. No problem,” they said. “I actually think I’ll like that,” one added. Fred stopped curling them, set them gently on the floor, then flexed his biceps as hard as he could. The bros commented, “Fuckin’ A, dude!” “Look at those beauties!” “You got a license for those guns?” Fred spread his arms wide. “Alright, let’s hug it out. All of you at once. C’mon.” They crowded in. Fred wrapped them up in his massive arms and squeezed them against his massive pecs, lifting them all off the floor. He squeezed a little too hard, until he heard sounds of distress, then quickly released them and watched them stagger backwards. “That was on purpose, in case you’re wondering. Now get the fuck out of here. Your workout is over.” ***** Fred continued to work out at the same gym, even though the weights weren’t heavy enough to challenge him. He did other things to compensate. But from that day forward, he was never alone. People greeted him and chatted about the weather. They sought him out at the library to ask questions about anything that might be contained in a book they were too lazy to read. And no one… not one single person… ever asked how he doubled in size overnight. “That’s his business,” they would say. He continued to live alone but ate dinner at George’s house at least twice a week. Big, big dinners. George bought new clothes to accommodate the strange, squishy belly that appeared one day and never left. No one ever asked about it. “That’s his business,” they said. Before or after their workouts, muscle-bros read stories to children at the library. No one asked why. The children loved their dramatic flair. Reading scores improved. So, in one small corner of the world, everything was alright because Fred, who had been very hungry, finally got fed. And he lived happily ever after. THE END ***** I hope you enjoyed that. Within the next ten days, I will post the other two stories that I completed. As I promised last year, I WILL complete the last two stories and post those later, but I won't make a promise about when that will happen. I hope it will be within the next two months.

I walked over to Thom. I felt the muscles of his body and felt the enormous biceps the man was flexing for me. They were huge, beautiful peaks of pure muscle and felt hard as a rock. A rock I easily could break of course. Thom was not only very strong looking, but he was also very tall as well. When we were both standing upwards, my eyes met with his sexy nipples on those enormous muscular pecs of his. It was a beautiful face I would like to place my head. I opened my mouth and let my tong and lips play with his nipple a bit. Thom placed his big hand behind my head, trying to keep my head there as long as he wanted. But of course, he doesn’t make the decisions around here. The man moaned of pleasure and when I was done, I looked up to the muscular giant and said, “Why don’t we arm-wrestle big guy?” His eyes filled with joy as I said that. “Why don’t you take me to a place where we can do exactly that”. I ordered. Apparently, Thom liked that idea very much. He looked around and found his destination. Before I knew it, I was scooped up into his muscular arms. Thom carried me over to this pallet that was filled with bricks and was fully wrapped in plastic. Thom put me down on my feet and placed his big strong arm on the bricks. I placed my arm on the bricks as well and put my hand in his. His hand was so much bigger than mine. My hand almost disappeared in his. Mark and Jake came walking up to us. And Mark started to count down. When the counter hit zero, Thom started pushing with all his strength. His arm was fully flexed, and his enormous biceps were showing. I decided to have a little fun with the big man and let him win for a little bit… I let his power push my arm down slowly, bit by bit. Once again, I put on my acting skills to make my big bodybuilder man think he actually was winning. Halfway through my performance I looked to Jack and Mark who could not believe that Thom was winning. I dropped the performance a little bit and winked to the two big man who went weak in their knees when they found out I was just playing. Thom was working on his last stretch and pushed with all his strength to put my hand down on the bricks. “Just kidding” I said and while giving all he got he looked up and saw that I was showing no signs of struggle. I looked at my hand and Thom followed my gaze; I pushed my hand up and slowly turned it to the other side… I decided to let all three of them feel my strength. I looked towards Mark and Jake and said “Well don’t just stand there you big dumb fucks, your mate over here is losing. Help him!” The two other men grabbed our hands. There were now six hands, and six beautiful muscular arms with the biggest and sexiest biceps you’ll ever see pulling but without any success. My strength was so much bigger than what these three men could give. It was beautiful to see these three men giving everything they got. The strong veins that popped up on their entire bodies was so fucking sexy. Their pump even made their muscles look bigger. I had one hand left to spare and with that I just felt all that sexy strong tensed muscle on their bodies. Their bulging biceps were the biggest I’ve seen in a long time. Their perfectly shaped pecs were tensing up with the strength these men tried to give. Even the tree trunks of leg muscles these guys carried were tensed up and full of veins. I felled those big firm muscles completely forgetting that there were three bodybuilders currently trying to beat me in an arm-wrestling match. “COME ON!!” I heard one the guy’s yell. It snapped me wright out of this muscle filled daydream and slammed down Thom’s fist and he almost fell to the floor because he put so much tension to his body. Luckily for him I caught him right on time and held my hand on his big and strong looking back. I helped him back up placed my hands on his beautiful face and said “Well done big boy. I think at one point you almost had me beat.” I gave him a wink and let my hand slowly down to his neck, his very big and strong shoulders that were still pumped from the match to his pecs and to his hips. I then picked up his body and sat him down on the bricks I turned around and walked over to Mark how was bowed down with his hands on his knees still recovering from the battle they just lost. I tapped his muscular back, and he stood back up right in front of me. The mountain of muscle that was standing in front of me was looking at me, wondering what I would do next. I placed my hand on his nice big bulge that was showing beautifully trough his underwear. I enjoyed the feeling of is half stiffen piece of meat and he defiantly liked my strong grip on it. I placed my hand a bit deeper between his legs and lifted him up with ease. His now fully stiffened cock was right in front of my face and was poking through his underwear, I brought him closer to me to kiss that beautiful piece of meat. The man let out a moan that could have destroyed buildings. I then turned around and placed him next to Thom on the pile of bricks. Two beautiful muscle man where now sitting next to each other. Both had full on boners and had no place to hide these monsters. There was will one missing so I looked around and saw Jake standing in the distance. After his loss he went for a little walk to wrap his head around what just happened. How three men with a combined strength to lift a normal looking car, lost in an arm-wrestling contest to this small looking boy. Not that he did not like it. You just don’t see that every day. I called out his name and held my arms open to him for a cradle carry. The big man knew exactly what I wanted him to do. He took a step back and then came running up to me. His muscular pecs flopping as he run over to me like a bull runs towards a red piece of cloth. He jumped with all his might. I catched the big man in my arms like I was catching a doll. The big man that was so much bigger than me, weighed nothing to me liked to see how easy his body was lying in my arms. I did some biceps curls with the big man and even tossed him in the air a little bit. Jake could not contain himself any longer. He put one of his muscular arms around my neck with the other grabbed my chin to give me a kiss on my lips. He was a bit shocked of what he just did and looked at me, a bit scared for what may come next. The guys behind me gasped and moaned to the show they just had witnessed. I looked at Jake and winked at him. He relaxed a little bit as he now knew the kiss was approved. Let me tell you that man had the most beautiful and softest lips you can imagen. For a body so muscular, strong and rough. His lips where a dream to kiss. I walked over to the boys and put jake next to them. I took a step back and looked at these three enormous bodybuilders who looked at me in return with all the lust the had in their eyes. It was only then I remembered who our interaction began. With my getting robbed by these three. Who clearly thought they could beat me. I gave them quite the show but now it was time to leave them with a little punishment for their actions. In style of course. See, that pallet full of bricks wasn’t the only one around as there was construction happening not too far from the parking place where I had big fun with these big boys tonight. As the grand finale of my little strength show this evening, I knew what to do. I asked the boys if they were ready for some real strength, and they all nodded. “Take of each other’s underwear in return” I ordered. The boys got of the pallet and stared to take each other’s under where of one at the time. As if they could read my mind, they tossed their underwear to me. I gave it a good smell and boy did these undies smelled good. The smelled manly as fuck and I let out a big moan. I looked up and would almost regret to say goodbye to these big boys. I tossed the underwear to the side and walked up to them to stroke all three of those beautiful big veiny cocks these men had, stiff as a rock. I played a little bit with these mountains of muscles before I lifted them one by one with one hand between their legs. It was so fun to feel their entire weight in the palm of my hand while cupping their big nuts at the same time. I placed them all three back on the pallet filled with heavy stone bricks. Then, I bowed down and placed my hands under the wood of the pallet and lifted the whole thing of the ground. Weak regular people need a forklift to get these things off the ground. Yet here I was, a 25 small but athletic looking guy, lifting the pallet full of bricks and three big ass bodybuilders on top of it, of the ground like it was nothing. It did not feel heavy at all, and I could lift it with one hand if I wanted to. The three guys gasped and moaned when the pallet left the ground. They could not believe the amount of strength they were witnessing. I was far from done. I asked these men if they wanted to see real strength and they agreed. So real strength is what there going to get. With pallet and bodybuilders lifted of the ground I started to walk to another pallet filled with the same stone bricks and placed them on top of it. I looked up to the man and asked if they liked that, they all nodded, and I asked if they wanted to see more. I did not let them get a chance to answer that before I did the same thing again. Bowed down. Put my hands under the wood of the pallet and stood up and lifted the whole thing of the ground again. Now with two pallets of heavy stone bricks and their bodybuilders on top. With no evidence, no one would believe what these guys just witnessed and that was exactly where I was going for. I changed my expression to very serious and angry and ordered them to not move. I forbid them to jump off and went on continuing the stacking of the pallets. I stacked three of them on top of each other, four of them, five and eventually six. I carried the boys and 6 pallets of heavy stone bricks as it where nothing. The stack was so high that jumping down from them would break some bones. Before my final goodbye I decided I wanted a visual memory of this evening. I grabbed my phone. Opened my camera and started recording. I pointed the camera up and asked to the big man if they were all right. They looked scared and didn’t say anything in return. While still recording I put the phone somewhere with the camera pointed to the stack of pallets. I walked back to the pallets and without any effort at all. Lifted the whole thing of the ground. The big man screamed at this point but there was no one there to hear them. A full stack of 6 big pallets with heavy bricks and three huge as bodybuilders where up in the air under my control. I moved my left hand a bit more to the middle and when I had perfect balance, let go of my right hand. I had never displayed this much strength, and I loved every single bit of it. I moved the pallets up and down as I was lifting a 1-pound dumbbell. I decided that playtime was over. I put the pallets back on the ground and grabbed my phone. I got dressed, grabbed my wallet back and put on my leather jacket. I grabbed the three pieces of underwear and put them away in my pockets, but not before I took one good smell again. I looked up and the guys were looking at me with fear in their eyes. “That’s what you get for robbing my strong ass idiots!” I yelled at them. Their clothes where still on the ground and there was no way for them to get back down without any form of help. But that was there problem now. As a little extra challenge, I left the gate closed with the metal pipe I twisted earlier and jumped with my strong legs over the gate. I looked at the boys one more time before walking off. Undamaged, smiling but definitely horney as hell I walked home. Wondering what more crazy things this body of me can do.

Once classes started, Danny realized just how much he stood out in the Chemical Engineering department. He outweighed even the biggest of the guys by more than 200lbs of muscle. He saw how they looked at him, some with awe, some with feigned disgust. He was used to the disgust from high school, but now, he reveled in the awe. He realized right away that the TA of one of his labs was one of the awe-struck. The guy was a grad student, so he wasn't much older than Danny, andDanny saw how he looked at him, sneaking furtive glances whenever he could. Danny played on that awe. He stayed after one of the labs ended, because he had a plan. He was hoping that the TA would help him figure out what was in the Black Russian supps that Ivan was getting from eastern Europe. When Danny approached him, Ted, the TA, could barely speak. Danny introduced himself and put out his hand. When they shook, Danny's big muscle paw completely enveloped the TA's soft little hand. The grad student was about 5'5", 140lbs. When Danny grinned down at him, the little guy's knees gave out a little. Danny propped him up against the lab table. Then he got right to the point, pulling out a black pill and asking him how hard it would be to figure out what was in it. The TA took the pill and looked it over. "Probably not very hard," he said. "If I used the mass spectrometer, it would break it down to its components. I'm not supposed to use the equipment for things like that though." "What if we snuck into the lab after classes?" Danny flexed his 24" arm. "We could spend as much time in the lab as you want." The TA gulped hard. "I don't know," he said nervously. Danny, bouncing his 72" chest under his tight tee, said "I'd let you touch." The grad student almost fainted. He looked around the room. "You want to do it tonight?" he said. "I can probably snag the keys from the professor's office." His heart was pounding thru his chest at the thought of being with Danny alone in the lab. "Sounds good," said Danny, running his hand thru his hair, causing his huge arm to bunch up into a big ball. "Oh my god," groaned the young grad student. Danny's powerful pheromones wafted out from his armpit. "You have a poser?" asked the TA, tentatively, bracing himself against the lab table. "Yep," said Danny, reaching out and rubbing his hand along Ted's thin neck. "Would you wear it?" asked Ted, his eye twitching, and goosebumps running up and down his limbs. "Sure. What time tonight?" "Eleven o'clock. The last lab ends at ten." "Ok. Then I'll lift from eight to ten thirty, to maximize my pump." "You're not pumped now?..." The TA's boner was tenting out his white lab coat. "God, no. Just wait till you see. Everything will be inches bigger. I can bloat my quads from 34" to 38" after just two sets of heavy squatting." "....38 inches..." stammered Ted. "Yep. What is that, like ten inches bigger than your waist?" "Yess...." Danny grinned. "I'll see you tonight at eleven, then. Don't pop one out till then, little man." He turned and walked away, as Ted stared in amazement at the size of Danny's back, shoulders, neck, ass, and legs. ... == ... Dwayne's fight night was at a medium sized auditorium downtown. A lot of the guys fighting were amateurs like him, but there were a couple sanctioned fights scheduled for later on the ticket. Dwayne's fight was first. It was his opponent's first real fight too. Dwayne sized him up as they stepped into the octagon they'd set up for the night. The guy was in his early twenties, good build, but nothing overly impressive. He looked like the kind of guy who'd played sports in high school but was never a standout, but had a lot of spunk. He looked a little nervous, especially as he saw Dwayne, who's muscularity was at least 5 times more dense than his. Dwayne didn't have to clench his abs for them to stand out as a taut 8pak. Dwayne saw his opponent looking over at a young woman in the audience. She was a tiny thing, about his age, and looked about 7 months pregnant. The wife, figured Dwayne. He could tell she wasn't thrilled about hubby getting into the ring against him. The fight got started, and it was quickly obvious to everyone that it was a big mismatch. The guy's punches bounced off Dwayne, and Dwayne felt nothing, so he let the guy pound on him for awhile. Then he hit back. His jabs were many times faster than his opponent's, too, but he took care not to punch too hard. He could see the wife flinch every time he hit him. He had to end this one quickly, so he knocked the guy to the ground, got on him, and put him into a choke hold. He pulled the guy close into him, and whispered in his ear as he tightened the choke ever so gently. "Do yourself a favor, and give up fighting, man. You're just gonna get hurt. A guy like me could mess you up bad. Go get a regular job, support your wife and kid." With that, Dwayne tightened his grip just enough to make the pain real to the guy. He turned the guy's face so that he was looking at his wife, and could see her concern. The guy was starting to panic. Dwayne was so strong that it was surreal. He easily flipped the guy around and put him in an arm bar, forcing him to tap instantly. Dwayne helped the guy to his feet, and they shook hands. Dwayne looked over at the wife, and saw the relief on her face. When their eyes met, Dwayne winked at her, and she felt a wave of lust race thru her hormonally flushed body. He was the hottest man she'd ever seen, and she knew he had saved her husband from any real damage, so she blamed her feelings for him on that. Meanwhile, her husband came over to her from the octagon, and hugged her. "I'm done with the fighting," he said, and the wife gave a small wave of thanks to Dwayne. He nodded back. Then he noticed Mr K sitting a couple rows behind her, the same look of lust on his face. This made Dwayne horny, but his gym manager, who was now his fight manager, was talking to him. "That wasn't much of a challenge for you, was it?" he said, laughing. "Nah, man. Just got me all riled up, is all." Dwayne was still looking over at Mr K, hungrily. "Well, I might have good news for you. A guy dropped out of one of the sanctioned fights that's coming up next week. They need a replacement. I volunteered you." "Yeah?" said Dwayne, suddenly interested. "Who'm I fighting?" "This guy Tommy Bell. He's in your weight class, and is 11-0." "Oh yeh? So I'll be breaking his undefeated record?" "You could be. He's pretty tough though. Has been in and out of prison, and has won every fight by KO." "Next week, huh? Gives me time to get even stronger and faster," said Dwayne. He was getting hard just thinking about beating a guy with an 11-0 record. His muscles tightened and rippled in anticipation of what he would do. His manager got goosebumps watching Dwayne's body improve as they stood there. "I gotta go for now, man," Dwayne said to him. Then he made his way over to Mr K, leaned over him and whispered to him, "Let's go somewhere, Mr K. I need some sweet relief from that mouth of yours." Mr K couldn't get up fast enough. He followed Dwayne to the backstage area, where Dwayne broke into an office by snapping the door handle off and forcing the door open with his shoulder. "This oughta do," he said, leading Mr K over to a sofa that lined the wall. As soon as Mr K sat down, Dwayne pulled down his trunks and his big schlong flopped out. He stroked himself a couple of time. "Fuck, I need it bad," he said, as he guided his big dickhead into Mr K's eager mouth. "Did you see me fight that guy down?" Dwayne asked. Mr K nodded as he sucked. "That was just child's play, man. Wait till next week. Fuck, you got a good mouth, Mr K. Funny, cause I remember growing up, how you were always dating those big tittied women, and you were all macho and shit. Now look at you, sucking on me like a newborn calf. You like it, too, don't ya?" Mr K nodded again, still sucking Dwayne's thick knob. He couldn't believe it himself. He'd always been into women. But he couldn't resist Dwayne. And he couldn't get enough of him. He understood addiction now. All he wanted was to service him, to touch his body, smell him, taste him. And Dwayne knew it. "You wanna see me fight again next week?" Dwayne said. "Maybe if you're real good to me, I'll let you come." He flexed his arms over Mr K. "Aw, yeah," he said. "I got a huge load about to fill you up, been feeling my balls churning it out all day." Dwayne tilted his head back, and bucked into Mr K's face. Mr K had never wanted anything more than Dwayne's thick muscle paste. And Dwayne gave it to him, spewing so hard he had to put his hand on the back of Mr K's head to keep his mouth in place. Mr K did his best to swallow the hot nectar the god before him. He did pretty good, considering how much volume there was. Dwayne pulled his head off him. "You sure are hungry for this aren't ya?" Dwayne chuckled, remembering how Mr K had always thought of him as such a dork. Dwayne lifted Mr K up to his face and kissed him. He liked the taste of his jiz in Mr K's mouth, it tasted like cotton candy. No wonder the old guy like it. Mr K almost fainted from the hot young buck tonguing his mouth. Dwayne thought about how he'd gone from goofy dork to supremely handsome and supremely strong. He kissed Mr K deeper, the older man's feet dangling off the ground. Dwayne chuckled to himself as he felt Mr K cum in his pants. His own hardon had gotten even harder. He rested Mr K down on it, and it supported him in the air. "Goddam," said Dwayne after he broke the kiss. "I better head out for tonight, before I decide to ride your ass into the next century." He lifted Mr K up and set him on the desk of the office they were in. As he got dressed, he said, "I'll see you next week at the fight." Then he headed out. Mr K watched him leave. His heart pounded with lust. Next week? Could he last that long without a Dwayne fix? ...===... That night at the lab, Ted was unable to completely decipher what the small black pill was made up of. "We'll have to do more tests," he told Danny, fearful that it would mean that his massive student wouldn't showoff his huge body for him. But Danny didn't care. He was pumped to the max, and was aching to flex anyway. He sat Ted down on a lab chair before stripping down to his poser. "No touching yourself until you find the formula," he said to Ted. Then he flexed his arm an inch away from Ted's nose. It rose up over 25". "Kiss it," said Danny. Ted swallowed hard, then put his lips on the mountain of muscle in his face. Sweat ran down from Danny's deep pits. He smelled of gym and muscle and his own thick musk. "Stop for a second," cried Ted, pulling back from the beast-sized arm. He had to close his eyes for a bit. His heart was beating so fast. He was just starting to get hard, yet he'd almost cum. "Oh, there's no stopping this now, bud," said Danny. "Touch it." And he grabbed Ted's hand on put it on his arm. "Oh god," muttered Ted. Then Danny grabbed the seat of the lab chair, and curled it off the ground until they were face to face. "Oh my fucking god," said Ted. Danny curled him in the chair for reps. Then he sat him down and flexed a double bi shot. Ted's eyes were wide opened now, although one eyelid was twitching at the sight of Danny's massiveness so close to him. He was leaking pre, and it took everything he had not to touch himself. Then Danny turned around, and spread his back. His vast, grand prairie sized back, rolling with thick slabs of muscle that tapered down to his beefy lower back, padded with striations of symmetrical muscle. He made them pop out in a hard flex, and Ted came. There was no stopping it. Ted had no control. His muscle lust took him zooming into a zone of euphoria. Danny spread his back out farther, and Ted fainted, sliding right out of the chair. Danny turned and caught him right before he hit the floor. "Dude, wake up man," said Danny, slapping Ted's face lightly. Ted woke up quickly and found himself looking into Danny's concerned eyes. "Wow... Could you just hold me for a second?" Danny wrapped him up in his huge arms and lifted him up in his hug. Ted was in muscle paradise, swathed up in Danny's tree trunk arms. He never wanted it to end. "I'll figure out the formula for you," he said. "I know you will, Teddy. Right now, I gotta go though." "Where?" "My roommate's waiting for me for a dose of Danny batter. He thinks it's making him stronger and faster." "Is it?" "Yep," said Danny, unwrapping his arms from around Ted and setting him back on the chair. "I'll talk to you later." That's one lucky roommate, thought Ted, as he watched Danny get dressed, and head out of the lab. And that must be one potent chemical, if it can transfer its effects thru Danny's 'batter'. That night, Ted contacted a friend of his who was working on a PhD in Genetics. He enlisted his help in breaking down the little black pill. ...=... The night of Dwayne's next fight came up fast. But he'd had time to have a tailor-made suit custom made to fit him real snug, just like he'd seen McGregor wear at his press conference with Mayweather. Dwayne wore it into the ring, and the crowd went wild. His manager had told him that this Tommy guy didn't want the fight because Dwayne was still a nobody. But then Tommy's manager reminded him that he wouldn't get paid if he didn't fight, so he agreed. He figured it'd be easy money. He'd never seen Dwayne. He would soon though. As Tommy made his way to the ring, Dwayne started flexing in his shiny new suit. The shoulder seams to his jacket started ripping almost immediately. Slow at first, but then faster as he crunched into a most muscular. Dwayne flexed harder. Buttons popped off like bullets. His jacket split up the back. He ripped the shredding jacket off him and tossed the pieces aside. He flexed his arms and made the sleeves of his dress shirt rip as his peaks tore thru the fabric like it was tissue paper. Then he tore his shirt apart like the Hulk, exposing his rockhard torso. As Tommy watched from the apron, befuddled, the crowd was going apeshit. Tommy's slow synapses were trying to process what he was seeing. He'd spent time in juvvie as a teenager, and had been in and out of prison a couple of times, but he'd never seen anyone so jacked up as Dwayne. Tommy stepped into the ring, pretty sure he could handle anyone. He was 11-0, after all. His entourage didn't look so sure. Just like in his first fight, Dwayne noticed Tommy look over at a young woman in the audience. There was a different energy to this couple, though. Dwayne saw a look of fear behind her eyes, the same look he used to get before school, when he knew Tip would be waiting for him. Then he noticed the bruises on her upper arms. He looked at Tommy, and he didn't need to see the skull tattoo on his neck to realize that this goon beat on his girlfriend. Dwayne felt the heat building up inside him. This cocky tool was going to be taught a lesson. When the fight started, Dwayne let Tommy hit him a couple of times without trying to block the blows. Tommy was more confused than ever. His powerful jabs didn't seem to hurt his opponent in the least. So he whirled at him with his roundhouse kick, hitting him right in the side. Dwayne didn't flinch. It was like he had on Batman's mech suit, but it was just his own dense rockhard muscle. Tommy felt like he'd broken his shin bone. He hobble back in pain, and looked over to his corner, where his manager just shrugged and urged him to go back at him. But Dwayne was already coming at him, and threw a jab of his own, hitting Tommy right in his sternum. The jab was so strong and sharp, it knocked the wind out of Tommy. He staggered back against the cage. Dwayne was on him in a flash, picking him up and throwing him to the ground. Then he got on top of him and rode him around the octagon. Tommy had never felt such controlling strength. None of the moves he tried to escape Dwayne's holds had any effect at all. And each hold was more painful than the last. Tommy was in a panic to get away from him, even for a second, but Dwayne was having none of it. He worked him and worked him, then would pick him up and slam him back to the ring, then get right back on top of him. Finally, he put him in a rear naked choke. He leaned into Tommy's ear and said, "This is what happens to guys who hurt women." He maneuvered Tommy so he was facing away from the ref. Then he pulled on Tommy's arm until it popped out of his shoulder joint. Dwayne had one hand over Tommy's mouth, to muffle the scream. Tommy tried to tap out, but Dwayne had his hands trapped so tightly, he couldn't move them. "It's gonna hurt even more, going back in," Dwayne said to him. And he was right. He shoved the ball of Tommy's arm bone back into joint, and Tommy almost passed out. Dwayne flipped Tommy over on his back and mounted him, bending Tommy's ankles up behind his ears. Dwayne leaned into him hard, folding him almost flat on the mat. Again, he whispered in his ear, "If you hurt your girlfriend again, I'll come after you. And it will make what's happening here seem like a picnic." Dwayne pinned him down harder. "Then I'll make you change your first name to Tinker. How ya think 'Tinker Bell' will go over on the fight circuit?" Tommy was drenched in sweat, and gasping for air as Dwayne pressed against his ribcage with his superhuman strength. Then Dwayne stood up over him. He grabbed Tommy around the throat with one hand, then lifted him off the ground and into the air. He walked around the ring holding Tommy up, while flexing his other arm. The crowd was in a frenzy, even as the ref warned Dwayne about the choke hold. Dwayne looked at the ref, then dropped Tommy to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Dwayne jumped onto him, wrapped his legs around his torso, and pulled Tommy's right arm into an arm bar. Pain seared thru Tommy's radial nerve. This time, Dwayne let Tommy tap out. Then he released the hold and stood up. The ref took his arm and raised it in victory. Dwayne flexed into his most-muscular pose for the crowd, as it roared in approval. Tommy looked up at his vanquisher. He'd never been turned onto a man before, yet, despite his physical pain, he felt himself getting aroused as Dwayne's superior, muscular body flexed over him. Tommy would never have sex again without thinking of Dwayne in order to finish. ...==... A couple of days later, Danny texted Dwayne to meet him at the park. He had something important to tell him. When Danny pulled up, Dwayne was already there, wearing just his fighting shorts, and doing one-finger pull-ups at the fitness trail. "Hey, Bruiser," said Danny as he walked up to him. "I hear the fight went well." "Short and sweet, just like they'll all be. I'm switching to parkour." "Oh yeah? You gonna be leaping over tall buildings in a single bound?" "Don't laugh," said Dwayne, dropping off the pull-up bar. Veins ran up and down his arms, across his delts, and into his chest. "How's Jake?" "Hot as hell. And he loves it when I breed him." "As he should. You still on the wrestling team?" "Nah, I gave that up. Who's gonna beat these?" said Danny, flexing his arms. "They're peaking up to 26 inches now. "Bearhug me with them," challenged Dwayne. Danny grinned, then stepped up to Dwayne, and wrapped his massive arms around him. Then he squeezed. "Damn you are solid," said Danny, as he hoisted Dwayne off the ground. "Hell yeah, I am," said Dwayne, kissing Danny on his 24" neck. "Squeeze harder." Danny wrapped his arms around him harder. He'd be crushing most guy like a tube of toothpaste with the force he was applying, but Dwayne seemed unaffected. "And now I know why," said Danny. He liked how much strength he could use on Dwayne. It turned him on. That, and Dwayne's sucking on his thick bull neck. "Those grad students I told you about? They found out why Ivan's stuff works so well." "Yeah?" said Dwayne. Then he started sucking on Danny's earlobe. "Harder, man." Danny squeezed harder, his forearms bulging to 19 inches. "Yeah. It completely shuts down the myostatin gene and allows for unfettered growth of muscle and strength." "No shit? Can they replicate it?" "Yeah, they think they can." Danny dug his clamped fists deeper into Dwayne's lower back. "Why you think I'm not slabbing on mass like you?" asked Dwayne. "I'm not sure, but you're at least as strong as I am, and I'm pretty sure you've got other skills coming on strong." "Yeah, you're right. What's Ivan think about these guys making the stuff?" Both of them were sweating now, making it harder to grip onto Dwayne's granite muscle. They were both hard. "He's happy he won't have to go back to Poland anytime soon." "I bet...Harder, man, I'm starting to feel it now." Danny grunted and squeezed. Dwayne arched back in the bearhug. "Oh yeh, bro, that's is power!" They turned their heads toward each other and kissed. When they broke off the kiss, Dwayne said, "I've been hooking up with your dad." "Yeah, I know," said Danny, and then he kissed Dwayne again. "I've seen him getting more muscular, just like Jack. I caught him flexing in the mirror the other day." "I know. It's hot as fuck." "Dad thinks you can read his mind, maybe even control his thoughts." "Maybe a little. I think it's more the power of suggestion. Although sometimes, when I want his tongue to go to a specific spot, it goes right there. It's like I'm guiding it with my mind." "That's wild." "I know. Hey, you squeezing as hard as you can yet?" "Almost," said Danny. "Go full bore, I wanna try something." Danny tightened his grip around Dwayne and squeezed him in with his huge sweaty arms. Both of them grunted. Then Dwayne, with his arms trapped to his sides, started pushing outward with them. At first nothing happened, but then Dwayne felt Danny's arms open up a little from the pressure. Dwayne pushed harder, and Danny felt his grip slipping. Danny's neck veins popped out as he tried to maintain his hold, but Dwayne's arm strength pushed his hands apart. Dwayne was now able to move his arms, and he slid his hands up to the crook of Danny's elbows, and broke his bearhug. Dwayne's feet hit the ground, and he stepped back out of Danny's hold. "Dude, geezus," said Danny, huffing, his thick torso red and welted from holding Dwayne so hard. "I can't believe it either. You're so huge." Dwayne's torso was also reddened and welted. Sweat rolled off of him. "And you got freak strength, man." "I know. And I can feel it growing. Follow me." Dwayne led Danny over to an old wrought iron fence that bordered one side of the park. It lined the property of an old mansion that was on the other side. Dwayne went up to the fence, grabbed a railing in each hand, and ripped a four foot section of the fence out of the ground, and yanked it free of the rest of the fence. He held it out at arm's length and began to press in on it. Cords of muscle popped out all over his forearms and delts. Striations rippled across his chest. He bent over slightly as the iron began to fold in like an accordion, and his lats flared out with his effort. The four foot section soon became a two foot section. He bent over farther, and his abs crunched out like big cobblestones, as the fencing bunched up on itself like a cheap window blind until it was compressed to one foot. Dwayne lifted it into the air like a trophy. Then he tossed it to Danny, who caught it one-handed. He wrapped his fingers around the end pieces and pulled. The wrought iron began to open back up, creaking loudly as it did. Danny pulled and pulled, stretching the iron like taffy, his huge arms and chest swelling, until it became a five foot section of misshapen metal. "You ain't weak, either," Dwayne said to him. "Bro... I feel like...." Danny said, holding the iron fence in one arm and curling it slow and hard, watching his biceps swell to 27 inches. "Breaking into the mansion?" "Yeah....and then..." "Fucking each others' brains out?" "You reading my mind?" "Nah, I'm just thinking the same way. And I want to..." "Fuck in every room of the place?" "Shit, yeah. Now who's reading who?" The two of them walked thru the opening in the fence. Danny jammed the twisted up section back into place the best he could. They headed up the hill toward the empty house. The front gate had a For Sale sign on it. "You know what we should do?" said Danny, as they climbed the front steps. "Turn this place into a private gym," said Dwayne. "Fuck, you are reading my mind, you freak," said Danny. Dwayne laughed. "I know, but it is an awesome idea. We can get your dad to invest in it. And we'll only let in geeks and dorks. Build them up huge and powerful. Maybe even psychic." "Exactly. And Ted thinks they can make an even stronger formula. Imagine what could happen." "Dude. It'll be like Hogwarts for future muscle monsters." They kissed again on the front porch. Then Danny got ready to slam his basketball-sized shoulder into the front door. "Wait," said Dwayne. He grabbed the realtor's box that was hanging on the front doorknob between his thumb and index finger and crushed it until the key fell out. "You got finesse," said Danny. "Just don't wanna damage the goods," said Dwayne, opening the door. "Let's go see the future." And the two of them stepped inside.

When Danny moved into his dorm room, Jack had already been there for a couple days. Jack wasn't there when he arrived, so Danny did a little reorganizing. It didn't take him long. He moved the two twin beds together and made them one. Then he scooped all of Jack's clothes out of the closet and tossed them into a heap on the floor. He hung up the clothes he had brought, which were 3 stringer tanks and two pair of sweatpants. He put his UA briefs and a couple of posers into a drawer. He was done by the time Jack showed up. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Jack said, annoyed. "Hey, Roomie," said Danny with a big grin on his face. "You're not my....where's Tip?" Dwayne's sister had made good on her promise to switch Tip to another dorm without either of the jock buddies knowing about it. "Tip decided to move on," said Danny. He was shirtless, and his massive frame filled the small dorm room, making him look even bigger. "You're rooming with me now." He flexed his huge arm in the wall mirror that was next to the closet. Jack was stunned as Danny's peak rose up and up. "24+ inches," said Danny, squeezing his arm harder. "Looks bigger than your quad, little man." Jack gulped hard, seeing that huge arm. No wonder Danny could pile drive him all over the wrestling mats. "What are all my clothes doing on the floor?" asked Jack. "I need the whole closet," said Danny, as he continued to watch himself flex in the mirror. "You've only got a couple things in there!" cried Jack. "They need space to air out," Danny said, rolling his fists and watching his 18" forearms bunch up with ropey muscle. Despite his straightness, Jack started to chub up in his pants at the sight of his roommate's brute size. "Why are the beds pushed together??" asked Jack. "Dude, you think I'm gonna fit on one twin bed? Look at me. I need them both." Danny hit a latspread, and his wings flared out wider than the two beds together. "Where am I supposed to sleep?" "That's not my problem. Anyway, there's a nice pile of clothes in the corner, sleep on that." Danny heaved out his 68" chest, then leaned toward the mirror, and ran his fingers along the striations in his pecs. "Damn it," said Jack, pulling out his phone. In a flash, Danny grabbed Jack's wrist with his left hand and squeezed. Jack's knees almost buckled as he dropped the phone. Danny snagged the falling phone with his right hand, then he shoved it into the deep muscle crevice between his big pecs. The phone nearly disappeared into his cleavage. And when Danny flexed his chest, the phone did disappear into it. Then there was a muffled crunching sound as Jack's phone crumpled from the hard muscle compressing it together. Danny pulled the broken phone from between his mounded pectoral muscles and tossed it across the room. "What are you doing this for, man?" asked Jack, his heart pounding hard, both from fear and from awe. Danny walked into Jack, pushing him back to the wall. He grabbed Jack in a one-handed choke hold, and slid him up the wall until the were eye to eye. Danny leaned into Jack's face until their noses were an inch apart. "Funny," he said, "I used to ask you the same thing." When Danny saw the puzzled look on Jack's face, he said, "You don't remember me?" He leaned in closer, their noses nearly touching. Jack shook his head No. "Danny the Dork doesn't ring a bell for ya?" Jack stared hard into Danny's eyes. He choked out "Dude...no way. That kid was a fat butterball....." But then Jack realized, the face did seem familiar. The jaw had squared off and bulged with muscle. The brow was more pronounced. It sat atop a 24" column of neck muscle. But still. "Dude, no fucking way. How?" "I started lifting," Danny said simply. "You like the look, Jackie? I got 200lbs plus on you now, all of it muscle." "I'm not into it, man," gurgled Jack, starting to squirm. "Oh yeah?" Danny pressed his 8pak abs into Jack's hardon and pinning him more firmly to the wall. "I'm feeling something that says different." "You're choking me, dude," said Jack, trying to change the subject. But he couldn't help bucking against Danny's thick ab wall. The firmness of it felt so good. Danny pushed against him harder. "Dude, I could snap your neck like pretzel stick," said Danny. This made Jack even harder. "I did it 'cause I liked you," choked out Jack. This made Danny let go of his throat hold. Jack stayed pinned against the wall by Danny's chest and abs. "What?" asked Danny. "I liked you, man. I couldn't hang out with you because, you know how it is. So I just teased you a little, that's all." "You call pissing in my shampoo and telling everyone about it is 'teasing'?" said Danny, darkly. He pressed Jack harder into the cinder block wall. "What?" Jack struggled to think. "Oh man, that wasn't me. That was Tip. He just told everyone I did it. He was always doing shit like that. I liked you. I always felt bad for you when you got picked last for every team in gym class. It was either you or that other kid, what was his name?" "Dwayne." "Yeh, him. I picked on you to make you tougher, 'cause that's what my dad always did to me, told me it'd make me a better man. And look how it worked, Danny. I'm a state champ wrestler, I haven't lost a match since freshman year. And now you're a massive muscle beast. Look at the size of you." And with that, Jack put his hands on Danny's bullneck and started groping it. "God man, the strength in your neck alone. Fuck. I bet I can't even choke you." Jack wrapped his hands around Danny's neck and pressed into it with his thumbs. They didn't dent into the muscle at all. "Geezus, man," said Jack. "I got a real strong grip, but it's like I'm pushing on marble." Danny swelled with pride, and his dick swelled too, as Jack tried to choke him harder, with no effect. Danny flexed his neck, and felt Jack's fingers being pushed apart. Farther and farther apart as his neck swelled and his traps rose up and merged with it like an ox yoke. "Dude, your power...." Jack was getting harder too. He leaned into Danny's face and kissed him. Danny was taken aback, but he kissed back. The two of them kissed hard and long. Jack's precum made his dick slide up and down Danny's hard abs more and more smoothly. He groaned as he felt how muscular Danny's tongue was as they French kissed deeper and deeper. When Jack finally broke the kiss, he put his hands on Danny's soccer ball sized delts and said, "Man, make me your bitch. I never done it with a dude before, but I want you to breed me with your size and power. I want it in me." "I hated your guts for so long," said Danny. "No you didn't," said Jack. "You wanted me, just like everybody else. Look at me, man, I'm perfect. And look at you now, you're beyond perfect. You're a fucking god, dude. You got muscle on your muscles. You make me look scrawny." Jack started groping Danny's lats. "Oh man, you're a god..." Danny's heart was beating so hard that it made his gums throb. Holding Jack like this, so close, he realized that the cocky jock was right. He had always wanted him. He lusted for him as much as he hated him. And now he had him in his arms. The emotions were so confusing, but he was so turned on he could barely control himself. He had to fuck something, why not this perfect physical specimen that he could flop around like a rag doll? "Yeah?" said Danny. "You want me to pop your cherry, Jackie?" Jack almost came. "Yeh, man. All my life, I've been the one in control, the alpha. Take that from me, man. Own me. Bruise me up like you did at practice, only deeper." Danny picked Jack up, spun him around, and bent him over on the desktop. He pulled Jack's shorts down around his ankles. Then he pulled off his own shorts, then his jockstrap. His dick popped out, bigger and thicker than Jack's by about half again, his big veins pulsing as they pumped him full staff. He wasn't sure he bought Jack's whole story, but it didn't matter. He was going to fuck him with the full power of his huge glutes and thick tree trunk quads. He spit in his hand and lubed himself up with it. His dick was so sensitive now, he could stroked himself all day. But instead, he scooped up his precum and slathered Jack's hot bubble butt with it. Then he popped his big helmet into the wrestling jock's tight hole. "Fuckkk," both of them groaned out at the same time. Danny sank in deeper. And deeper. Down to the root. Then he started bucking rhythmically, grunting with each buck. Jacked gripped onto the desk, which banged into the doorframe over and over again, harder and harder, until finally, the frame of the door cracked when one of Danny's powerful thrusts smashed the desk into it. Danny lifted Jack off the desk and started air fucking him, his huge powerful arms pumping Jack's 200lbs body up and down on his dick. Up and down he went, while Danny's 415lbs of rock hard beef powerfucked his hard jock ass. The temperature in the small dorm room had soared from their body heat, and sweat poured off both of them, dripping onto the floor. Danny slammed Jack back down on the desk to finish inside of him. He pinned him down with one big hand in the middle of Jack's back. Jack had never felt such complete pleasure. Such total lack of control. Such freedom. Being bred like a bitch, and he loved it. "Danny. Danny. Danny," he said, over and over, as Danny rammed past his prostate again and again, his sweat dripping off his chin and his pecs, all over Jack's back. "Godddam you mutherfucking hot little sonofabitch........" Danny roared as he came deep inside Jack. "Aww geeezus fuckk Danny," moaned Jack, as he busted all over the desk from the feeling of pressure from Danny's big club inside him, and the hot muscle batter filling him up. They stayed the way they were for awhile, both breathing deep and heavy. Danny finally slid out of Jack, and even that feeling almost overwhelmed Jack with pleasure. He stayed on the desktop while Danny picked up one of Jack's shirts from the pile of clothes and wiped his dick off with it. He tossed the shirt aside, then picked up one of Jack's tee shirts and wiped his own sweat off with it. Then he used the tee to wipe off Jack's back. Then he lifted Jack up in his arms like a babe, and laid him on the clothes. "Looks like it's going to be a fun semester," said Danny, flexing his 24+ biceps, fresh sweat rolling down his thick lats as he stood over Jack. "You're telling me," sighed Jack, sinking into his pile of clothes. -- . . -- -- . . -- Meanwhile, back at home, Dwayne was warming up for his fight night by jogging thru the park. He didn't have on his weighted vest, so he felt like he could almost take off and fly, he was feeling so strong. It was going to be Dwayne's first fight, but his gym manager had lined him up with a guy who was 11-0. "If you beat this guy," the manager told him, "you're on your way." Dwayne laughed and said, "Oh, I'm on my way already." As he jogged out of the park and onto the street, he noticed a guy on a bike headed in his direction, riding on the wrong side of the road. Dwayne realized in a second that it was Tip, his former tormentor. "I guess he didn't get his car fixed yet," Dwayne chuckled to himself. He couldn't believe he was running into him again. Dwayne purposefully headed right towards him. When Tip looked up and saw the shirtless Dwayne coming at him, he started to wobble wildly on his bike. He veered up and over the curb, and ran right into a telephone pole, falling off the bike onto the sidewalk. Dwayne sauntered over to him. "You should be more careful, dude," said Dwayne. "And you should wear your helmet tighter. Look, it fell right off." Dwayne leaned over and picked up the bike helmet. "Leave me alone," said Tip, rubbing his scuffed up knee. "Funny, I remember saying that to you a bunch of times in high school," said Dwayne, rolling the helmet around in his hands. "You never listened. And now, your helmet is all busted up." Tip looked at the helmet, and said, "No it isn't, it's barely scratched." "Look a little closer," said Dwayne. He leaned over and put the helmet in Tip's face. Then he snapped it in two with his bare hands. "How about that? Where'd you get this cheap thing?" he said, tossing the broken pieces aside. "Fuck," said Tip. "And your bike...Man, it's completely mangled." "No it isn't," said Tip. "The front tire's just a little bent. I could probably still ride it." "You're not looking close enough," said Dwayne. He picked the bike up, and every muscle on his rippling torso tightened up as he bent the frame in two. "See," he said, "the tires are touching each other. Let me try and fix it." He bent the bike frame back and forth a couple of times, until it snapped apart in his hands. "I hope you didn't pay much for this cheap thing." "Fuck man, I paid $800 dollars for that just last week. Fuck. You gotta pay me back." "Oh, I'm paying you back alright." Dwayne looked Tip over. "You didn't break any bones in your fall, did ya? 'Cause I'm seeing some broken bones." Dwayne leaned over and grabbed Tip's upper arm with his left hand. He lifted Tip up off the sidewalk like a marionette. Then he dug his fingers into Tip's arm muscle. Tip yelled out in pain. "Yeah, this bone might be broken, man, this shouldn't hurt so much when I squeeze it." He yanked Tip's arm back and forth. Then he pulled Tip in close. "Maybe you're right, the bone's not broken. But you're gonna have some real deep tissue bruising on this arm, bro. Look at the veins on my forearm, popping out all over, feeding my muscle with crushing strength. You feeling it, Tippy?" "Yes, yes. God, stop man!" Dwayne let go of Tip's arm. Tip back away quickly, holding his arm, and leaned against the telephone pole. He looked over at the street. "Don't try it," said Dwayne. "Try what?" "Running into the street to get away. First of all, you'd probably get hit by a car. Secondly, I'd snag you in under a second, because I'm 5 times faster than you now." "How'd you know...." "Cause I'm reading your mind, Tippy. And it's scary in there. All full of cobwebs, slowing down your synapses. Nothing much going on except simple vapid thoughts." Tip was starting to get panicky. He thought about his father's gun. "You can try and shoot me, dude, but it won't work," said Dwayne. "This muscle is bulletproof." Dwayne rubbed his hand down his hard muscled torso. "I'd just pick up the bullet and crush it flat between my thumb and index finger." He picked up a stone from the sidewalk, held it in front of Tip's nose, and cracked it with his two fingers. Then he ground it together between his fingertips until it crumbled into grit. Tip flinched back. Dwayne almost wondered if he really might be bulletproof. "Don't worry, dude, I won't hurt you. Although I could. Look at my arm," said Dwayne, bringing up his right arm and flexing it. The biceps peaked up high and hard, with a muscle density that Tip had never witnessed before. "Now watch this," said Dwayne. He stared at his peak, and willed it to grow. He smiled as the top of his arm rose up another half inch, another peak on his already high peak. "Aw yeah," he growled in satisfaction. "And look at the abs, Tippy. They look like they're flexed, don't they?" Tip nodded his head up and down weakly. "Well, they're not." With that, Dwayne clenched down on his abs, and his 8pak exploded with striations, into what he called his 32pak. Tip slid halfway down the telephone pole, stunned, his face even with Dwayne's wall of shred. "That's a sight to behold, isn't it, boy?" Dwayne said, looking down at the deflated bully. Then Dwayne had a thought. He remembered how Mr K went down on his knees after Dwayne wished for it. He wasn't sure at the time if it was just coincidence, that Mr K wanted to crawl over to him on his knees to pleasure him, or if Dwayne had influenced him with his mind. He'd been studying some hypnosis, and they said you couldn't make anyone do something that they didn't want to do, but he wondered. So without saying a word, he stared at Tip, and he thought to himself, "Hit yourself, Tip." And he watched as Tip slowly made a fist with his right hand, then punched himself in the face. "Whoa," said Dwayne. Then, he thought to himself, "Hit yourself harder." And Tip punched himself in the nose, this time harder, and it knocked his head back into the pole. A small tickle of blood came out of his nose. "Holy shit," thought Dwayne. He felt his dick thicken in his shorts. He wondered if he ordered Tip to blow him right here on the sidewalk, if he would do it. But he had no interest in that. He sensed that Tip was an easy mark, not worth much of his effort. Instead, he reached up on the telephone pole behind tip, and grabbed onto the lowest climbing rung. It was rusty with age, but still sturdy. Dwayne bent it back and forth with his hand, until it snapped off. "fuckkk," said Tip, not quite believing his eyes. Dwayne looked at him and thought, "hold out your arm," and Tip's arm went up toward him. Dwayne took the thick rung in both hands, then bent it around Tip's wrist until the ends crossed. "There's a little bracelet for you to remember me by, pinhead," said Dwayne, as he tightened the iron rung around Tip's wrist. "Don't try and take it off though, because if I ever see you without it, my feelings will be real hurt. I might think you're breaking up with me, and I wouldn't like that." The defeated look on Tip's face made Dwayne feel bad for him. Poor dimwitted jock never thought anyone would get the best of him. Payback can be a bitch. "Why don't you get going now, dude, before I use your bike frame to decorate you some more." Dwayne picked up the busted frame and handed it to Tip. "I have a fight to get ready for," said Dwayne. The befuddled Tip watched the powerfully muscled former nerd jog away down the street. He couldn't believe he was ever able to pick on him. He wondered who would be stupid enough to step into the ring against such a freak.

Since his dad had the day off, Danny borrowed his Range Rover to drive up to college for his first wrestling practice. "Dad, I'm taking the Rover," Danny said as he grabbed the keys on his way out to the garage. "What?" said his dad. "But I'm going to need it later." "You can use my old Honda. I'm too big for it now." "Danny, put those keys back," said his dad, although his voice did not have the authority in it that it used to. Danny stopped in the doorway, but he didn't turn back. He was wearing his singlet with a pair of sweatpants. He'd had to special order a size 5XL singlet, and even at that, it was a little snug. His backspread was broader than Craig Golias's. "Tell ya what, Pops," he said. "I'll arm wrestle you for them." They both knew it would take at least 6 men his dad's size to win that contest. "Never mind, take it. But just this once," said his dad, diplomatically. "Ok, if you insist, "said Danny on his way out. "You should probably upgrade to a Hummer soon, cause even your car is a tight fit for me now." Danny took off out of the driveway, and headed to school. A trucker almost drove off the highway when he saw Danny's arm hanging out the window of the car. Especially when Danny flexed it at him. "You'd think he'd never seen a 24" peak before," Danny said to himself. When he got to the gymnasium, some of the wrestling squad was already there. As he walked in, he heard murmurings like "holy shit," "Jesus" "look at the size of that guy". Danny chuckled to himself. This was going to be so much different than when he'd gone out for wrestling in high school when he was a soft chubby kid. Even the head coach was taken aback, because the last time he'd seen Danny he was in civilian clothes, not a singlet, which tended to show off every inch of his mass. Plus the fact that Danny had gained 30lbs of muscle since they'd first met. His shoulders were half again wider than the next biggest heavyweight guy on the squad. As Danny sauntered over to the other wrestlers, the coach thought to himself 'If we don't win state this year, I'm never going to.' He started pairing the guys off into sparring partners. Danny was the only one left, when Jack walked into the gym. "You're late, Dick. I mean Jack," said the coach. He'd told his wife just last night that he got at least one every year, a kid that he would nickname 'Dick Head'. They were always the cockiest jocks, who took their athletic abilities for granted, because they'd been blessed with them since they were in grade school. Guys he liked to take down a peg or two. This year, he had a good chance with Jack. "Meet your training partner, Jack. This is Danny." Jack looked over at Danny, and took a step back. "What? Coach, this guy is way outta my weight class." "Yeah, I can see that. But you were late, and he's the only guy that's not paired up yet, so there ya go. Maybe he'll get you to work a little harder." Hopefully, he'll knock the cocky out of you, thought the coach. "Now, stretch out for a little bit, then let's do some skill drills, guys." As the practice went on, things didn't go well for Jack. Danny mopped the mats with him. What little Danny remembered from his short stint in high school wrestling came back to him quickly. And every move Jack tried on him, he powered out of easily, then used the move on Jack, to great effect. A half hour into it, and Jack was gasping from breath. He'd been flopped all over the gym floor. Flipped and flopped, like a sack of flour. Except for a slight shimmer of sweat shining on his body, Danny was fresh as a daisy. He started putting Jack in holds, then flexing as he held him pinned in place. The coach noticed the showboating, and would normally call a wrestler out for it, but he was enjoying this. Whenever he got a chance, Danny would dig his big knee into a vulnerable part of Jack's body, like his lower back, his ankles, his elbows. Danny could see why Dwayne liked fighting. As he pinned Jack to the floor face down, with his elbow pressing hard into Jack's scapula, Danny leaned into his former bully's ear and said, "Try and move, ant." All Jack could do was grunt a muffled 'fuckkk'. It made Danny's groin throb with pleasure. He picked Jack up, threw him over his shoulders, and started doing lunges the full length of the gym. Back and forth, back and forth, till his quads where burning and bloated full. Then he tossed Jack back to the mats, and starting working him over again. After an hour of abuse, the coach called for a break, and Jack had to crawl to the edge of the mats to recover. Most of the guys on the team had been watching Danny manhandle the state champ like a ragdoll. During the break, they asked him questions about his training and diet. Danny flexed as he answered them. More than one of the guys boned up in their shorts watching their massive teammate show off his size, especially when he pulled the straps of his singlet off his huge shoulders and rolled it down just past his waistband of his jock strap. There was a gasp when he pulled his sweats down to his ankles, exposing his tree trunk quads. His muscular development was far beyond anything they'd ever seen. He let them feel his muscles, and even though they were all in great shape, none of them had ever felt muscle this hard. Even the coach couldn't hide his hardon. "Ok, guys, let's call it a day. Go hit the showers. Danny, let me talk to you for a second," said the coach. Danny pulled up his sweats and came over to him, and the pheromones coming off his big muscle made Coach's hardon pulse with his increased heartbeat. "I like what you were doing today, Danny," as he realized that even Danny's hands were twice the size and thickness of Jack's, " but try not to break him into pieces. I'm still counting on him to win a state title in his weight class." "Ok, Coach," Danny said, clenching his big fists until he heard the knuckles crackling. He felt like fighting five Jacks at once. But then Jack came limping over toward them, keeping his distance from his huge wrestling partner. "Coach," said Jack, "you make me practice with him again, I'm quitting the team." His skin was all ruddy and welted from Danny's holds on him. "Shut up," snapped the coach. "You'll lose your scholarship if you do that, cause I know you're not here based on your academics. Stop being a pussy, and go hit the showers before I have Danny bounce you around the gym like a basketball. " Coach gave Danny a wink, and as Jack hobbled away, grumbling, Danny flinched at him. Jack flinched away in fear, and scurried to the lockers. Danny and the coach laughed. _ . _ Meanwhile, back at Danny's house, Dwayne knocked at the side door. When Danny's dad answered the door, Dwayne said, "Hey, Mr K, how you doing?" Danny's dad stepped back a little and looked Dwayne up and down. "Who are you?" he asked, not recognizing Danny's long time friend, who, the last time he saw him, was 5'6" and about 120lbs soaking wet. The guy at the door was a good 5'11, 200lbs of strapping, zero body fat, muscle. "Mr K, it's me, Dwayne," he said, muscling his way past Mr K and into the kitchen. He was wearing a sweat-soaked UA shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin, showing every rippling muscle. He gave off a thick scent of sweat and pheromones that filled the kitchen. He strutted over to the fridge, opened it, and grabbed a bottle of water, and guzzled it down. "Help yourself," said the older man. "Thanks, Mr K," said Dwayne, ignoring the sarcasm. Then he walked from the kitchen into the family room. Mr K could see, right thru Dwayne's nylon running shorts, how perfectly rounded his glutes were, as they rolled with every step he took. And he could see the extreme V-taper of back. If Mr K hadn't seen his own son's transformation in the last month or so, he would never believe that this was the same nerdy kid that used to hang out around the house. "It's kinda hot in here. Mind if I take off my shirt?" said Dwayne, stripping his shirt over his head without waiting for an answer. He balled up his wet tee and tossed it on the couch. He stretched out his torso, raising his arms over his head. Glistening muscle rippled out all over him. He wore a thick chain around his neck with a Superman "S" medallion hanging from it. "I just came from a CrossFit competition. I heard about it on the radio, so I signed up as a walk-on. I won every heat. Crushed it. Didn't even know what half the events were, but the guys there were real friendly about showing me. The chicks too. Most of them seemed to know each other, and they were all real interested in getting to know me, find out where I trained, what my routine was. You shoulda seen their faces when I told them I'd never done any of it before. Funny how those jock types never seemed to notice me before, except to mess with me. Now they notice me though. You okay, Mr K? You look a little pale." Danny's dad was in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. He was in awe. He noticed how perfect Dwayne's teeth were, straight, white, sparkling. But weren't Dwayne's teeth crooked and sort of yellowish? Suddenly, Dwayne grinned, and ran his tongue across his dazzling pearly white teeth. "Dwayne, are you... reading my mind?" "Not really, I'm just reading your expression. I saw you looking at my teeth, and I know you were thinking 'didn't he have shitty teeth before?' And 'wasn't he a skinny weakling who I used to enjoy intimidating when he came over to visit my son, even though I'm the adult and should know better?' So I guess you could say I'm sort of reading your mind." Then he flexed his rock hard pecs at him. Mr K had to admit it was true, he had thought those things of Dwayne. Mr K had been very athletic, and even now, had a hard time not feely disdain for men or boys who were not. He'd felt that way about his own son, as hard as he tried not to. "Check out my abs," said Dwayne, changing the subject, and clenching his 8pack that was stone slab flat. "They're a little tighter than yours now, Mr K. Watch this," he said, and flexed his gut muscles. Each brick in his 8pack clenched and squared off into 4 striated blocks. "Looks like I got a 32pack, don't it?" he said, strumming his fingers up and down the muscle. "Yeah," said Dwayne, "looks like bullets would bounce off them. And maybe they would. " He pinched some ab skin and tugged on it, and it pulled up like tightly wrapped cellophane. When he let go, the skin snapped back into place. "I have a fight tonight, Mr K. You should come watch." "A fight?" said Mr K, barely able to form words as he stared at Dwayne's densely packed muscularity. "What kind of fight?" "An MMA fight. My first official one." Dwayne plopped down in Mr K's favorite leather lounge chair. "Fuck, I'm horny," he said, adjusting himself in his sweats. "You ever feel so horny that you could pick up a piece of furniture and fuck it?" "Maybe," said Mr K. He couldn't believe how handsome Dwayne had become. He looked like a heavily muscled, Russian Zac Ephron. His eyes were so clear and sparkling blue. And didn't he used to wear thick nerdy glasses? "I used to, yeah. My eyesight has improved," said Dwayne, casually. "My eye doc says I've got 20/5 vision now. Like an eagle." "You are reading my mind!" said Mr K. "Again, not really. Just saw you looking at my eyes. Why don't you come in for a closer look?" And Mr K felt himself being drawn toward Dwayne, aching to be closer. to catch his scent, to feel the heat coming off him. "Why don't you get on your knees, Mr K?" And Mr K felt his knees almost buckle underneath him as he went down to the floor. "Come over here and put your hands on my legs," said Dwayne. His voice had become deep and sexy, like a hot male porn star, with a drawl of extreme confidence. Dwayne reached into his sweats and pulled out his big dick. It plopped out, half-engorged and swelling fast. His musky scent hit Mr K like a drug. "Feed off me," said Dwayne. "I bet my muscle batter will help get rid of your dad paunch." Mr K was taken aback. He didn't have a dad bod! Yet, he knew he did. He just hoped he was fooling people by sucking his paunch in as much as he could. "You're not fooling anyone. Now feed off me," said Dwayne. And Mr K went down on him, aching for that big perfectly shaped cockhead more than anything he'd ever wanted. Dwayne grabbed him by his ears and guided him for awhile. He wondered if he should tell Mr K that he was sucking the same big cock that had been up Danny's ass the night before, but he decided not to. Instead, he let go of his ears, and grabbed onto the arms of the lounge chair, arching and bucking into Mr K's face. His cockhead had become vastly more sensitive to touch, and the pleasure of being serviced by an eager mouth made every powerful muscle in his body tense up. The sensation was transcendent. He arched his head back on the chair, his powerful neck bulging out wide. His strong, veiny hands pushed on the arms of the chair until the wooden frame snapped underneath the leather with a muffled Crack. Dwayne's precum was flowing freely out of his big helmet head, lubing up Mr K's throat, and it didn't take long before Dwayne was spewing out a huge load of hot cream, flooding Mr K with his muscle batter. "Awwww, yehh," growled Dwayne, as he spewed and spewed, rope after rope of thick paste. Mr K did his best to drain every drop of it. "Nice," said Dwayne, pulling Mr K's head off his hardon. "We'll have to do this again, soon," he said, stuffing his still hard python into his shorts. "I gotta get going for my fight. Sorry about your chair, Mr K. I'll pay for it with the money I'm gonna win tonight." He grabbed his shirt, balling it up into one hand. As he walked thru the kitchen, Dwayne looked around and said, "You know, if you ever want to remodel in here, let me know. I'd love to rip out these granite countertops." He put his fingers on the edge of the granite and lifted up. There was a loud crunching sound as the countertop lifted upward about an inch. "Yeah," said Dwayne, "these are loose. Time for an upgrade, Mr K." Then he left. Mr K watched from the kitchen door as Dwayne jogged down the driveway and up the street. He put his hand on his paunch, and thought it already felt flatter and harder. It couldn't be though, could it?

Danny continued to grow. His trainer Ivan had been right. Despite the fact that he hadn't lifted any weights in the two weeks that Ivan had been in Europe, Danny had beefed up to 325lbs of solid muscle. When Ivan got back from his trip to Poland and Russia, he was duly impressed by his young client's gains. "You sure you weren't working out with another trainer while I was gone," Ivan teased Danny. "Nope. Just ripped up a couple trees here and there," answered Danny. "Ha. You are funny, kid. But just wait, you are only going to get better. I brought back that new 'supplement' I told you about." Ivan held out his hand, which was holding a bunch of small black pills. "These are called Black Russians, and are the newest supp to come out of eastern Europe. The Russians are using them to develop a whole new generation of superathletes." Danny looked at the pinhead-sized pills. "They're so small," he said, picking up one pill with two of his thick fingers and examining it. "Small, yes, but powerful. And easy to get into country, attached to my jacket like beading." "I'm joining the wrestling squad when I go to college next week. What if I get tested?" "Nothing will show. These special vitamins work directly on your DNA strands, lengthening and improving your teleomeres." "So we're like a genetic experiment?" asked Danny. "Yes," said Ivan. "One that is working." "You have enough of those to share with a friend of mine?" Danny asked. Then he told Ivan about Dwayne. At first, Ivan freaked out a little, but when Danny told him about Dwayne having been an even bigger dweeb than Danny had been, and where he was now, Ivan got a kick out of it. "So now your little buddy is doing mixed martial arts?" "Yep. He says it's like his brain memorized all the moves he watched on youtube vids. He's beating all the other guys at his gym, no matter what weight class. He outmaneuvers them, outpowers them, pins them." "How much he weigh?" "He went from a dweeby 120 to a granite hard 159." "He's beating guys bigger than him then?" "He told me he pinned a 250lb guy the other night. Took him less than 15 seconds." Ivan laughed. "Just wait till your bud tries some of these." "So it's cool?" "Sure is, kid. I'm kinda liking getting you former dorks all swole and cocky. And just wait till your little bud tries this stuff out. Chances are he'll never get huge, but it will maximize other skills laying latent inside him." "What about me?" "You got such a big-boned frame, you'll be holding a solid 400 plus in no time. With strength beyond reason." "Let's get started then," said Danny, hungrily. After two weeks of three hour a day workouts, Danny met Ivan's prediction, weighing in at a solid 410. Ivan didn't train with him anymore, but simply helped add plates to Danny's stacks of weights. Danny was benching 800lbs for his warmup. And squatting 1000lbs for reps, till his quads ballooned to 40+ inches of brute muscle thickness. He had gotten hairier all over, even his back, and he liked it cause it made him feel like a massive blond gorilla. Dwayne, on the other hand, had gotten better and better at his MMA fights, so much so that the gym owner had him taking on two guys at once. Dwayne had yet to lose. He and Danny waited two weeks before seeing each other. They'd both be leaving for college in a week after that, so they wanted to check each other's progress. They met up at the city's athletic fields, where there were tennis courts, basketball courts, three softball fields and a small football stadium. When they pulled up next to each other in the parking lot, got out and looked each other over, they simultaneously said, "Fuck, dude!" "Man, you're ginormous!" said Dwayne. "What are you, 380?" "414 this morning," said Danny, puffing out his ape chest. "And look at you, man. What are you wearing?" "It's a 100lb weighted vest. I wear it for wind sprints. I'm up to a mere 180lbs, a punk next to you, but my body fat's at 1.5%. And I've been running 100-yard dashes in under 10." "Dude, that's like world class." "I know. And that's with the vest on." "How fast without??" "I don't know. Wanna race?" "Fuck yeh, ya little squirt." They went over to the football field and got on the goal line. "One, two, three go," blurted Dwayne, and he took off. Danny started after his friend. Sod flew behind their feet as Dwayne shot ahead like a bullet. But Danny, despite his size, was extraordinarily fast, and almost caught up with him, finishing a fraction of a second behind his smaller buddy. "Dude, you little cheat," said Danny. "Here's what I outta do to you..." He waddled over to the goalpost, wrapped his hands around it, and bent it until the two posts arms hit the field. Dwayne had to dodge out of the way of one of them as it came down. "Hey, I told you I learned to run fast getting away from those bullies in high school," laughed Dwayne. "I don't think you'd have any trouble doing that now. But I doubt that you'd need to run anymore." "I think you're right. I have my first sanctioned fight coming up this weekend. And if I win, I'm thinking of deferring college for a year." "No shit?" "Yeh, man, I'm loving this fighting. And my gym owner gets hard thinking of the matches I could win with him training me. Thing is, I'm already holding back so I don't hurt someone too bad. I sense it when I'm fighting someone, how much stronger I am. It's a rush." They started walking back to the parking area, crossing one of the softball fields. Dwayne found a baseball bat that someone had left by the dugout. "Think I could snap it across my knee?" he asked Danny. "Try holding it straight out, one hand on each end. Snap it that way." "OK," said Dwayne, grinning. He held the bat at arm's length and tightened his grip. His forearm muscles flexed up like ropey, sinewy iron. The velcro straps of his weighted vest tore apart at the seams as his shoulders, chest and lats spread out with effort. Then the bat snapped. Like a toothpick. Even Dwayne was surprised by how fast and easy it broke. "Fuck," he said, as he looked down at the two bat pieces, one in each hand. "Fuck is right, man. That is some sick arm strength," said Danny. "God, that felt good," said Dwayne. "Hey, isn't that Tip's car in the parking lot?" asked Danny. Dwayne looked over at the nearby lot, and saw the red Dodge Charger with the vanity license plate that said "Tipster". "It sure as hell is," he said, his face reddening. He remembered how just seeing that car used to fill him with dread. His grip on the bat pieces increased unconsciously, until the wood cracked under his fingers, splintering apart. He dropped the bat pieces to the ground, then pulled off his weighted vest. "Hold this for me," he said, handing his 100lb vest to Danny, who took it with his pinkie finger. Dwayne made his way over to the Charger. He walked around the car, looking it over, when he heard a voice from behind him say, "Don't touch the car, man." It was Tip, coming back from a jog, all blond and oozing with arrogance. Every memory of being bullied by Tip came flooding back to Dwayne's mind as he saw the cocky jock walking up to his pride and joy. "You mean like this?" said Dwayne, as he took a swipe at the car's side mirror, knocking it off so that it swung by wires against the car's door. "What the fuck????" said Tip. "You don't remember me, do you?" said Dwayne. Tip stared at him hard, but Dwayne could tell he had no idea who he was. He could hardly blame him. The last time Tip saw him, he'd weighed 120lbs of soft nerd, and he was face down in the dirt. Since then, he'd gained 70lbs of steely muscle, his jaw line had squared off, he had a jutting Adam's apple on a neck that was corded with muscle, and he had rivers of veins running up and down his arms. His eyes had improved to 20/20 vision, so he was no longer wearing his thick glasses either. "You remember a kid you used to call the Dweeb? The one you used to chase down and make him eat dirt? The one you used to slam into the lockers in front of everyone." "What the fuck...." stammered Tip, a hint of recognition hitting him. "That kid doesn't exist anymore," said Dwayne. "Now it's just this one." He grabbed the dangling mirror and ripped it free of its wires. Then he crushed the mirror in his hands, letting bits of metal, plastic, and glass fall to the ground. "What the fuck..." said Tip, slack jawed. "I always knew you had a limited vocabulary, and it seems to be getting worse. You ought to work on that," said Dwayne. "But right now, it's your turn to run." Dwayne pulled of his tee shirt, so Tip could get a good look at the insanely jacked up muscle machine he had turned into. He clenched his stomach muscles so that Tip could see the striations stand out on each of the eight blocks of ab muscles on his tight, shredded torso. He flexed his right arm, and his biceps balled up into a perfect peak. Tip had seen a lot of shirtless jocks in his time, but never anyone with Dwayne's highly developed muscularity. Dwayne smirked as he saw Tip gulp. Then he smashed his left fist into the car door, denting the metal in about 5 inches. "That's what I call a love tap," said Dwayne. Then he hit the door again, his knuckles going in 6 inches. "...the fuck..." said Tip, backing away. Then he took off running. Tip had been the fastest guy in their school. In fact, he had broken the 100-yard dash record that had been in place since the 1990's. Dwayne gave him a 5 second head start, then went after him. All Tip heard was the rush of wind from Dwayne coming up behind him so fast, tackling him on the softball field, between 1st and 2nd base. Tip's face and torso hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him. Dwayne straddled him and held him down. Tip struggled hard, but to no effect. "God damn, you are weak," said Dwayne after they both quickly realized how easily the former dweeb was able to control his former bully. Dwayne flexed his arms while holding Tip down with his powerful quads, squeezing them together just a little harder than he needed to. The muscles on his back popped out like thick leather straps, overlapping each other in perfect symmetry. "You want to see what it's like to eat dirt?" asked Dwayne. "No, man, no," said Tip. But it was too late. Dwayne scooped some dirt off the baseline and stuffed into Tip's mouth. Tip gagged and sputtered out wet muddy spittle, as Dwayne held his face to the ground. "Jesus, dude, what fucking pleasure did you ever get out of this?" said Dwayne, stopping his force feeding, but still pinning the jock down hard. Then he started sliding Tip face first along the baseline, until Tip's nose tapped into second base. "There, you're safe, asshole." Dwayne stood up over him. "I thought I would want to beat you to a pulp," he said to the cowering jock. "I still might. Here, let me help you up." Dwayne reached out his hand. Tip reluctantly took it. Dwayne yanked him to his feet like he was made of straw. As Tip started to brush himself off, Dwayne swung his foot at the jock's ankles and knocked him off his feet, onto his ass. "Ok," said Dwayne, "now that time it felt good. Here, I'll help you up. I won't do that again." He helped Tip up again, and didn't kick his feet out from under him. Instead, he punched him in his solar plexus, a quick jab, not enough to shatter his sternum, but enough to make him double over. Dwayne grabbed Tip's arms from behind and put him into a double-armed chickenwing. Then he lifted him off the ground and held him there. "I've got ten times your strength now. Maybe twenty." Dwayne tightened his hold and lifted Tip higher, just enough to prove it. Tip was just about to lose consciousness when Dwayne tossed him down. "If I ever hear about you bullying someone again, I'll come after you. And next time I won't be so friendly." Dwayne looked up and saw Danny over by Tip's car. Danny went over to the rear end of the Charger and started pushing on it until it skidded up over the curb. He pushed it harder and harder, smashing the front end into a big oak tree with such force that the car windows shattered. As Dwayne walked over to him, Danny pulled out his phone and dialed 911. "Hi," Danny said into the phone. "My friend and I just saw a blond guy in a red car crash into a tree here at the park.....By the softball field parking lot....Yeah, he got out and tried to run away, but we stopped him." Danny hung up. As Tip crawled his way back towards his demolished car, Dwayne said, "That got me so riled up." He flexed his rock muscle chest. "Yeah, got me all jacked up just watching you," said Danny, jutting out his 70+ inch chest. "Let's go back to my place and fuck each others' brains out." "Yeah? You think you can handle all this?" said Dwayne, already getting hard as he rippled every striated muscle fiber on his new body. "Let's find out."

Two days had gone by since Danny had given Dwayne the supplement he got from his trainer Ivan. It was still early in the morning, and Danny was working out in the garage. He had promised Ivan he wouldn't lift weights while Ivan was visiting Poland, but he hadn't promised not to pump up everyday, so he'd been busy doing handstand pushups, bending rebar, breaking lumber and crushing brick. He'd just finished his 6th set of deadlifting the front of his dad's Range Rover, when he got a text from Dwayne. "Dude, that stuff u gave me is kickn in," he wrote. "I woke up at 6 this morn and went for a run. A run, man, and no one was chasing me. I ran all the way to the city park." "Isn't that like 5 miles from ur house," Danny answered. "Yeh and I didn't even get winded. U know that fitness trail at the park?" "The one with chinup station and monkey bars, shit like that? Yeh I know it." "I hit that thing like an American Ninja. I did 40 chinups. Remember how many I could do in PE?" "5?" "3. Sometimes only 2. And even they were bad ones kicking my legs all over. Everyone mocked me. Now I fly thru the monkey bars. I'm stoked man, that stuff is legit." "Told u" "Yeh but now I'm insane hungry. Meet for food?" "OK, how bout McDonalds there by park?" "OK, but shouldn't we be eatin lean or oatmeal or something?" "Yeh probably but it doesn't seem to matter. C u there." Danny got the keys to his dad's car and headed out. He wasn't supposed to drive the Rover, but what was the old man gonna do, spank him? Danny chuckled at the thought. He pulled into McDonald's and saw Dwayne waiting outside in a sweat-soaked running shirt and cargo shorts. "Hey, man," Danny said as he got out. "Dude," said Dwayne, "you got no neck anymore, you're just huge traps clear up to your ears." "Yeah, I was doing deads with the truck, it swells up my back and traps pretty wicked." "This truck?" "Yep." "Geezus, man," said Dwayne as they headed inside. "What's in your gym bag?" "My mass gainer shake. I'm gonna have it with about ten McMuffins." They got their food then sat down at a table. Dwayne said, "Did you see the way that cashier was checking you out?" "Nah, man, I thought she was looking at you. You're looking jacked." "I know, right? Look at my forearms." Dwayne held out his arms, his palms upward. Veins were showing all over the underside of his forearms. "Any maybe you're right, she was looking at me. I noticed it at the park, too, girls looking me over with that 'look'. Some guys too." "Get used to it, bud, I get it all the time now." "Well, yeah, you. Look at you in that stringer. I never had anyone look at me with hunger in their eyes before." Danny was already through with half his McMuffins, and was now downing his mass gainer. He saw Dwayne looking at him, and he said, "It all turns to muscle. It's crazy. I had 3 large pizzas and a gallon of this gainer shake last night around midnight." "It doesn't bloat you up?" "Yeah, fiercely for awhile. Take a look," said Danny, pulling up his tank to show his gut, bulging out like a balloon, the skin stretched tight, but with abs ridges making his stomach look like a tortoise shell. "I shaved it down this morning. Wanna touch?" "God yeah," said Dwayne, coming around the table and laying his hand on Danny's muscle gut. "Holy shit, dude, it's like a Buddha belly, except hard as marble!" Dwayne rubbed his hand on the smooth hard mound. "Yep. Except in about two hours it'll be flattening out and I'll be starving again." "My hunger's been thru the roof too, and I've never been much of an eater." "You know what else?" said Danny, "Your skin's all cleared up, too." Their faces were only a few inches apart, and Danny couldn't help but notice Dwayne's complexion, which was smooth and healthy looking. He had always had a lot of skin problems. "You're actually kind of a looker now." "Shut up," said Dwayne, going back to his seat. "You're right though, all my zits cleared up almost overnight." "Hey, I heard from Ivan last night on WhatsApp. He's taking another week over there, to go to Russia. He might be getting a supply of something new." "Stronger than the stuff we got now??" "Not sure. Guess we'll see." They finished eating, and headed out of the McDonald's. When they got outside, Dwayne said, "You want to go check out the fitness trail at the park?" "Sure." "We'll see if I can beat you on some of the stations," said Dwayne. "Yeah, ya think? Think you can beat these?" Danny flexed his arms, his biceps rising into mountainous peaks. A car that was pulling into the parking lot rear ended another car. "Dude,"said Dwayne, "your arms just caused an accident!" Danny laughed. "I think you're right. Let's go to the park. You wanna ride?" "Nah, man, let's run. It's less than a mile. I'll race ya." "You're on," said Danny, and the two friends started running up the hill that led to the park. Danny couldn't believe how fast Dwayne was. It was like he was racing the Flash. By the time Danny got to the hilltop park, his smaller friend was resting on a bench. "What took you so long?" chided Dwayne. "Very funny, pip-squeak. I'd a beat you if I didn't have 150lbs more muscle to schlep." Danny went over to the back of the bench, picked it up and tipped it up until Dwayne fell off of it. Dwayne landed on the ground in a heap, but he wasn't hurt. He looked at Danny in awe. "Man, that bench is made of cement...it must weigh 450lbs! . "Does it?" asked Danny. "Doesn't feel that heavy," and he pressed the bench up over his head and started pressing it for reps. "Fuck," said Dwayne, watching his huge friend from the ground. Then he said, "Geezus man, your legs..." Danny tossed the bench behind his head where it landed on the grass and sank in about a foot. He looked down and saw that the run up the hill had bloated his legs full, and had brought out a whole new level of vascularity. His massive quads were covered with them, snaking in and out of thick layers of muscle, and his big calves each had a garden hose sized vein running across the outside sweep. "Hoo yeah!" said Danny, bringing his right foot up and flexing his calf. The thick muscles bulged outward, shifting the vein to one side as it swelled. "Let's skip the fitness trail, and go into the woods behind the park. I'm feeling like I could uproot a tree or two," said Danny. They crossed thru the park along the jogging path. Almost every jogger they passed turned back to get a second look at the two young friends. One guy looked for so long, he ran into a tree. Dwayne went back to help him up. "My friend is so huge, it's hard not to look, isn't it?" Dwayne said to the guy as he got him back on his feet. "He is yeh, but I was looking at you. You're jacked up so lean and hard. You look real strong for your size." The guy jogged off, embarrassed but unharmed. Dwayne stood there for a second, stunned. No one had ever complimented his physique. "Dude, come on," yelled Danny. "Did you hear what that guy said?" asked Dwayne as he caught up. "Yeah, I heard. You got him all atwitter inside, stud." "I did, didn't I?" The two of them headed into the woods, with Dwayne walking with an exaggerated swagger like Vince McMahon heading to the ring. They made their way thru the trees, until they came upon a stand of birches. "Think I could rip one of these outta the ground?" asked Danny, stripping off his stringer tank and tossing it to the ground. "Just one? Why don't ya try two at once, ya cocky brute." "Yeah? You wanna see cocky?" Danny found two birches, about five feet apart, and stood in between them. He reached out his arms and grabbed their trunks, one in each hand. He tightened his grip around the trees, each trunk about 20 inches in circumference, his meaty fingers crushing into the crunchy bark and almost reaching completely around the trunks. He squeezed harder, adjusted his stance, and began to lift. Muscle all over his body tightened and clenched, and his nostrils flared, as he lifted upward with his huge arms. The leaves on the two trees started shaking, and more bark flaked off as Danny's powerful grip dug in. Dwayne heard the ground start to rip around the base of the trees. "Dude...." he said in awe, as his Herculean friend began to force the tree trunks upward, inch by inch. Danny grunted deeply with each effort to lift the trees more. Thick veins popped out on his neck and across his chest and delts, and down his big arms. He threw his head back and his neck bulged like a column of sinew. The trees lifted higher. The ground around them tore apart faster as Danny lifted them up, up, up. He shook the trees back and forth, freeing the roots from the earth. Finally, he ripped them free of the ground and held them midair like two trophies. "Dude..." said Dwayne, leaning against the trunk of a third tree."You a freak..." Danny let the tree trunks go so that they both fell behind him with a crashing thump. "Yep," he said brushing his hands together to knock off the bark flakes. Sweat rolled down his thick muscles, dripping to the ground. His huge barrel chest heaved in and out. "You got me all riled up now, man," said Dwayne. "I got to try something myself." "You gonna try to rip up a tree?" "Nah, I ain't no rhino like you. But I've been watching mma vids, and I've been aching to test out a roundhouse kick." Dwayne was already circling a birch tree. Not as big as the ones Danny had taken on, but not a sapling either. He squared himself up to it, then swung his leg into it, whacking the trunk with his shin. The tree snapped in half, the top part toppling down next to the two trees Danny had uprooted. "Aw, yeh!!" growled Dwayne. "Man, didn't that hurt your shin?" "The weird thing is, it didn't. I felt it, but it's not like real pain. I've been kicking and punching stuff at home, like walls and columns, and it doesn't hurt me." With that, Dwayne stripped off his running shirt and flexed into a most muscular pose. "Man, you are definitely jacked up! You look like Conor McGregor without the ink!" "Who's that?" said Dwayne, looking down at his newly sinewy arms. "You've been watching mma stuff and you've missed McGregor? You gotta look him up. Fuck, you could probably take him if you can snap a tree in two with one kick." "I doubt that, but I am starting fighting lessons at that UFC gym downtown tomorrow. I met the manager who thinks I have potential." "You definitely have that. Flex your arms for me." Dwayne grinned and lifted his arms into a flex. "Man, you got peaks! I bet those things are 16 inches of pure muscle." Danny reached out and put one hand on each of Dwayne's arms. He squeezed them. "Fuck, dude. They don't even dent." "Oh come on, those sausage fingers of yours can't dent my little arms? Squeeze harder." Danny crushed down on the biceps, digging his big thumb into the belly of the muscles. "They're like rock," he said. "This isn't hurting you at all is it?" "Nah, man. I feel it, but it sorta feels good. it's kinda fucking turning me on." Danny lifted Dwayne up off the ground by his two arms. Dwayne smirked. "Awww, yeh man. Harder!" Danny walked with his friend in the air, over to an oak tree, and pinned Dwayne high up against the trunk. His crotch was even with Danny's face. "You ever have a bj, Dwayne?" "Heck no man, you know I've never had sex yet. Neither have you." "Let's change that," Danny said, and he started unzipping Dwayne's cargo shorts with his teeth by biting down on the tab and sliding Dwayne higher up the tree. "Oh god yeh,"groaned Dwayne. Not only had his muscles gotten bigger and harder, so had his cock. Thicker too, and able to muscle its way out of his pants and plop onto Danny's face. Danny took it into his mouth. He'd never given a blow job, but he figured there couldn't be that much to it. He just started sucking and bobbing, while pinning Dwayne's arms against the tree. Dwayne arched into his big friend's face, as a feeling of total ecstasy flushed thru his body. Nothing had ever felt so good. "Goddammmm," he grunted over and over. "GodDAMMMM>" It didn't take him long to bust like a fountain down Danny's throat. Danny took it all like a seasoned pro. It was like being force fed a protein shake, so he continued to milk his friend until he was totally dry. Then he lowered Dwayne to the ground. Both of them were a little lightheaded. They laid down on the mossy ground, both smiling like deflowered virgins. "You want payback?" Dwayne asked Danny. "Eventually," said Danny,"but now I have to get going, I'm running late." "For what?" I have to drive out to the university. I have an appointment with the wrestling coach." "You're going to try out?" "Yep. And I'm going to make a deal with the coach. I'll be his heavyweight champ, but only if I get to use Jack as my training partner." "Dude, that's too wicked good," said Dwayne, getting to his feet and zipping himself up. "Definitely let me know how that goes."

As the summer progressed, Danny continued to make rapid gains in his size and strength. His trainer Ivan had never seen anything like it. He was proud of the kid, who'd made such tremendous changes to his body, but Ivan was also somewhat envious, jealous even, of his young client's rapid improvements. Danny was now benching over 620lbs for reps, which was twice his bodyweight, and more than double what Ivan could bench. The same was true of his squat and deadlift. Despite Danny's initial reluctance to workout, he now trained like an eager puppy, looking forward to each session, and lifting with wild abandon, aching for Ivan to add more and more weight to the bar. When Ivan left for a week to fly back to Poland and look into some new "supplements", he told Danny to take the week off, too. They'd be training twice a day for almost a month now, and Ivan said Danny could use the time to let his body recuperate. Danny looked at himself in the gym mirror as Ivan was telling him this. He didn't think his body looked like it needed any rest. He was in a stringer tank, and his muscles looked full and thick and tight. His delt caps were the size and shape of soccer balls. He could make the rounded shoulder muscles roll and flex, and he loved doing it. Ivan said he had some of the best muscle control he'd ever seen. This made Danny beam with pride, and got him to practice more muscle flexing every chance he got. "But a whole week?" said Danny. "What the heck am I gonna do?" "See how much weight you can gain," said Ivan. "Sometimes the best gains are made during a rest week. You've got the mass gainer powders I gave you. How many times a day are you drinking a shake?" "Twice." "Up it to four," said Ivan. "See what happens." "I'll do five,"said Danny with a grin. Ivan left the next day, but only after making Danny promise not to go to the gym while he was gone. They both laughed at the irony of it, given that Danny didn't even know where a gym was up until two months ago. Danny still wasn't sure what he was going to do to kill time, so he started by texting his friend Dwayne. They hadn't seen each other since graduation. They'd texted back and forth a couple times, but Danny was always busy lifting or eating or flexing in his bedroom mirror to get together. So he invited Dwayne over. He said he had something to show him. When Dwayne pulled into the driveway, Danny was in the garage. He hit the garage door opener, but stayed out of sight as the door went up. He kept the lights off too. Dwayne got out of his car and came to the open door. As his eyes tried to adjust from the bright outdoor sunshine, he couldn't see much of anything in the dimly light garage. "Come on in," said Danny. Dwayne stepped into the garage, and Danny had to chuckle to himself. Dwayne was in for a shock. He hadn't change a bit since high school. "Dwayne the Dweeb" was what the jocks called him. Not much better than "Danny the Dork", but Danny had transformed into a superheavy weight musclehead. Dwayne was the epitome of the skinny white nerd, in his white short sleeve dress shirt, and heavy rimmed, heavy-lensed glasses. At 5'8", he weighed all over 130lbs. "Why's it so dark in here?" asked Dwayne. "I just didn't want to freak you out," said Danny. "Freak me out how? You get nerdier than ever?" Dwayne said, snorting. "Turn on the light switch by the wall," said Danny. Dwayne turned and flicked the switch. When he turned back, Danny was standing right under the light in an XXXXL tee shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. His chest ballooned out the shirt, and his huge thighs stretched his nylon shorts skin tight and pushed them halfway up his quads. Danny had not lifted at the gym, like he'd promised Ivan, but he had found ways to workout with stuff around the house and in the garage. From this, he'd gotten his veins to stand out on all of his thick limbs. Dwayne backed up and leaned against the wall, looking his huge friend up and down. "What the......" he stammered, as he soaked in the vision of his formerly fat friend's new physique. "Dude.....you told me you were lifting, but didn't say you morphed into a behemoth!" "Yeah," grinned Danny. "Remember how my arms used to be so chubby?" He pulled the sleeve of his right arm up to his shoulder, then flexed his arm up. "Now look." "Holy smokes, Danny. It's a mountain peak. I knew you had muscle underneath all that blubber." "Very funny," said Danny. But it was true. Dwayne had always thought that Danny was more solid than he looked. But this was insane. "Dude, I know you got all A's in AP Chemistry...did you cook up some kinda super roid or something?" "Nah, man, I'm just lifting heavy and taking some vitamins." "Sounds like Vitamin "S" to me, Danny. Where you getting them?" "From that personal trainer I told you about." "The one from eastern Europe? And you think his supplements he's giving you are from GNC?" "Nah, man, I know they're not. But feel my fuckin' arm, dude." Danny did a half flex of his left arm. Dwayne came over and put his hand on it. "Geezus, dude. Feels like marble!" Danny stretched his arm out to his side. "Try and pull my arm down." Dwayne grabbed onto Danny's thick forearm and yanked down on it. He tried again and again, but the big arm didn't budge. "Hang off it, lift your feet," said Danny. So Dwayne wrapped his arms around Danny's wrist and then lifted his feet off the ground. Dwayne clung to the forearm like a lemur clings to a tree limb. Danny held him in the air like he weighed as much as a lemur. Then he curled his arm upward, lifting his friend up and down. "Man, you got sic strength!" "I know. It's so awesome. And watch this." Danny grabbed a crowbar that was hanging off the pegboard behind his dad's workbench. He held it out in front of him, one hand on each end. "Put your hand back on my arm," he told Dwayne. Then Danny began to bend the crowbar. His arm muscles tightened and surged. Veins popped out on his neck and across his traps. The crowbar creaked as the ends started to bend downward. He bent it until the ends touched. Then he dropped it to the garage floor with a loud clang. "Oh man," said Dwayne. "I think I just came a little." "That ain't nothing," said Danny. "Watch this." He went over to his dad's Mercedes, squatted down next to the side doors, reached underneath the frame, then deadlifted the car up until both tires were off the ground. "My fuck..." stammered Dwayne. Danny did ten reps with the car, then set it down. "Ah, yehhh," said Danny. "Help me pull my shirt off, man, my arms and lats are too bloated to do it." Danny leaned over and outstretched his arms. Dwayne grabbed the bottom of the tee and started pulling it off Danny's torso. It wasn't easy, even with Danny's help, but they finally got it over his head and arms. Danny stood upright. "Damn, man, look at your six pack!" said Dwayne. "I know. They're like brick. Go ahead and hit me." "Hit you?" "Yeah, go ahead, slug my gut. You won't be able to hurt me." "Aw man," said Dwayne, but he started to punch Danny's abs. He started slow, but then hit them faster and faster, and harder each time, until his fists began to hurt. Danny's brick abs didn't even dent. Dwayne stopped as he started to get winded. "Man...that's crazy!" "I know, right? Craziest thing is, I'm wasn't even flexing them. Watch." Danny clenched down on his ab muscles, and his six pack swelled out, the muscle bulging out like rising loaves of bread...bread made out of stone. "Fuck, man. Fuck," said Dwayne as he leaned against the workbench. His whole body shook to its core. "Damn you man, I just came in my pants. Holy smokes, Danny. That is...that is wild." "Ha, you're funny, dude. I didn't even know you were into muscle." "Neither did I, till now. Who wouldn't nut to what you got going on? You're a ubermasculine superhuman!" Then a thought occurred to Dwayne. "Hey, you got any extra of those "vitamins"? "I have enough until Ivan gets back. Why?" "Let me have some." "Why? You don't even lift." "You didn't either til a couple months ago. Let me try one a day for a week or two, see what happens." "Yeah? Ok, man, that might be interesting. Don't do any lifting though, we'll see if it does anything at all." "Dude, the only thing I know how to lift is my dick. Look at me. Even if it jacks me up a little, I'd be happy." "Ok, then, come on." They went up to Danny's room, and he doled out two weeks worth of his supplement. Dwayne noticed the sweat rolling down Danny's huge torso. "Geezus, man, even your sweat smells good. It smells like leather and cotton candy in here." Danny laughed, then put his mitt-sized hand behind his friend's head and pressed his face into his deep pit. "Breathe it in, little dude," Danny said, and Dwayne sucked in the aroma like he was using his inhaler. He had to push away when he thought he was going to pass out from pleasure. "Cut it out, man, that's not cool..." but he could have spent all day in that muscle cavern. "Get me some water, I wanna take one of these now." As Danny grabbed a bottle of water off his bedside table, Dwayne noticed the reflection of the two of them in the bedroom wall mirror. The size difference was so astonishing that he had to sit down on Danny's bed. "Just how big are you?" he said. "Almost 300lbs now, but I haven't weighed myself today." Danny handed Dwayne the water. "Imagine if you met up with Jack the Jerk now," said Dwayne, referring to the jock in high school who used to torment Danny the most. Danny and his friends called him the Jerk, but certainly not to his face. The guy was a state wrestling champ, and an arrogant tool. During Danny's short stint with the wrestling team, Jack had secretly peed in Danny's shampoo. When word gets out in high school about something like that, it's hard to live down. Danny's face reddened from the memory. "That," said Danny, clenching his fists as he checked himself out in the mirror, "would be an interesting encounter." "Hey, didn't you get a full ride to RU?" Dwayne asked, as he watched Danny's thickly muscled back muscles tighten. RU was the university near where they lived. "I did," said Danny. "I heard that Jack's going there too, on a wrestling scholarship." Dwayne swallowed down the pill, then said. "You know my sister Heather works there, in the housing department. She said that Jack and his evil cohort Tip were going to room together. You remember Tip?" "'Course I do. He used to chase you down and shove you into lockers." "Yeah, that's the one. At least I learned to run fast from him hunting me down. Anyway, I was thinking that my sister could 'accidently' mess up their dorm assignment, and slip you in with Jack on the down low." "With neither one of them realizing?" "Yeah. Imagine Jack's face, moving into his room and finding you there, like you are now." Danny picked up a tank top from his bed, and put it on. "Didn't he wrestle as like 175lbs?" "Yeah, that has to be about right. He might be bigger than that now, but you could mess with his head pretty good. Bet you have 100lbs on him." "Yep. And a bigger dick too." Dwayne laughed. "How do you know that?" "I remember seeing him in the showers, and thinking, for such a big dickhead, he had just an average cock. Mine was bigger even then. And now, it's gotten bigger." "Yeh? From the pills and lifting, I bet. Lemme see, man." Danny reached into his shorts and flopped out his cock and let it hang, thick and weighty, halfway to his knees. "Geezus, dude. That things an anaconda!" "I know," said Danny, packing his meat back into his shorts. "Do me a favor. Text your sister, let's make this thing happen."

It was a night I will remember forever. I went to the bar with some friends. We had some drinks, a lot of fun and overall, a great time. When the night was over and I was walking home, I quickly noticed that I was being followed. When I checked I saw that there were three very big and tough guys behind me. I wasn’t sure but a strange feeling told me that these guys wanted to harm me and wanted to beat me up to take my belongings as I had a somewhat wealthy look that night. Knowing my body and my incredible and unpredictable strength I decided to have some fun with these big fellas. I pretended not to notice them and walked to a somewhat deserted place. These three men would never expect the beating that they called upon them by this 25-year-old somewhat alethic and small looking guy. As I walked and looked in their direction I acted slightly more panicked every time. I knew that I was nearing a dark alley that led to a parking place where at this hour no one was around. So, to sell the act of me being scared for those big guys I sped up my walking and try do make it look like I was trying to lose them. Of course, I didn’t lose them and when I started running in to that ally they started to run as well and followed me in there. When I reached the parking place and saw that there was no one around and no other way out than that ally way I just came in, I turned around now fully aware of the guys that came running up towards me and holy moly where those guys huge. All three men were what looked like pro bodybuilders and towered over me. Each of their very muscular body’s where big enough that that I fitted two times in there. It was a beautiful site to behold. It was hot outside, so they did not wear that much clothing, and their huge vein covered biceps were showing. Boy did, I love the show. These men look liked they could lift any vehicle they want of the ground. Of course, the only one who could do that was me, but they did not know that… yet. Two of the three men grabbed my arms to hold me in place. Of course, I didn’t want to spoil the just fun yet, so I played along. The third and biggest guy of the group came walking up to me. He placed his very big and strong looking hand around my chin and moved my face, so I was looking for him straight in his green eyes. The big muscular man had a gorgeous strong looking jawline above his thick neck. Beautiful lips that I would bet were very pleasant to kiss. The ego look that he gave me sent chills down my entire body. It would almost be a shame that I was going to ruin all that muscular beauty in a few moments. I saw that he made a fist of his other hand and then he swung with all his strength. Hitting me right in the stomach. Off course for me his big punch felt like a soft tap, but I wasn’t ready to lift the curtains, so I acted as if I almost had the light hit out of me with that single blow. His ego looks changed with a little bit of confusion brought into the mix. He obliviously noticed that my body felt firmer than he had anticipated but my acting skills where more than enough to let him forget all that in a second and the ego was pack in no time. The huge guys that were holding me up (or were thinking they were holding me in place) both let out a gasp from the blow their partner just landed on me. With that blow done the big guy in front of me started to look for the expensive stuff I had on me. He looked through the pockets of my jackets. His big hands where almost too big to fit in there. And then he put his hands in the pockets of my jeans. To feel that big hand touching my leg aroused me a little bit I’m not going to lie. After the big man found my wallet and put it in his own jacket, he nodded to the guys that were holding me. They took of my leather jacket and with a push the threw me to the ground away from the ally. To have two of those big guys undress me like they did was lovely. The guys turned around and started to walk away. I know that this was my moment to shine. I gave them a little head start. Stood up from the ground and spoke calmly “Is that the best you three can do”? All three turned around and where surprised that I was standing up like nothing even happened. “I mean I’m sure even my mother could hit harder than you three weaklings do. But playtime is over. I would like my stuff back now please. So, hand them over and none of you will be harmed” (I lied) I knew of course they wouldn’t simply hand it over just like that and the fun was about to begin. The three big guys let out somewhat of a laugh and started walking back to me. On my way over to them I saw the first step of my fun. Making sure that there was no easy way out of this place. I walked towards them. The two guys that held me in place the first time tried the exact same thing. But this time I grabbed each of their collars and pushed them both aside. The big men were flying to the ground and the one that landed the blow look shocked with what just happened. Him being dump as a brick he tried to swing at me again but this time I made it very clear that it did nothing to this beautiful but very strong small body of mine. My abbs stayed strong and firm as his big fist hit what felt like the big man was hitting a tick metal wall. The big guy crumbled with pain as he probably broke a bone or two in his hand. I grabbed him by the collar as well and decided to show this big man what true strength was. Still holding his collar, I pulled the man up. I rose my hand higher and higher above my head and what I think would be a 240-pound muscular body went up as I was lifting a piece of paper. The height different made it so that I was just big enough for the big man’s feet to leave the ground as I held my hand as high is I could. With me, the average but somewhat strong looking man holding this man who looked like he was a pro bodybuilder of the ground with no effort at all, must been an interesting sight to behold. I looked at the other to big guys that I just yeeted to the side moments ago. They were looking at me with great disbelieve in their eyes. The big guy that was still high up in the air tried to free himself. But of course, he couldn’t free himself from my strong grip. He pulled his body up from my arms so that his clothes would not rip. I looked to the big guy again as he looked down upon me with a scared look. I then looked at the guys on the ground again and asked if they could catch… Without waiting for an answer, I tossed the very big and sexy and muscular body to one of the other ones and with a loud thud the big guy fell on the ground. To make sure that the guys were not able to leave unless I wanted them to. I decided to block the way to the ally. I saw that there was a gate that could close the ally, so I walked to the gate that was chained up to the wall with a very thick metal chain. I grabbed the chain with my small hands and without giving it a second thought, ripped the chain and broke it. Multiple gasps were heard from the area as all the three guys saw what I just did... It made me chuckle and with the big heavy gate now free in my hand I closed the ally. To make sure that the gate would not be opened, I grabbed a metal pipe that was part of it the gate itself and ripped straight out. I put it trough the hole that was used for the chain to keep the gate in place and to show off a little bit more of my strength I grabbed the pole with both hands and twisted the metal around itself. Locking the gate in place with it. I tied it in a beautiful knot so that nobody would leave unless I wanted to. It was clear for the big guys who had the most strength of us and it was me. I turned around to see that the three guys were frozen in place standing together. “So, let’s try this again shell we?”

The looks those big men had on their faces where some I wouldn’t soon forget. I looked at them and said in a very sensual and demanding tone “Down on the ground”. I inhaled deeply and let out a big puff of air towards them which caught them off guard. All three fell back on the ground. “Good boy’s” I said. It was clear that they didn’t like that very much. I pointed to the one that just moments ago had stolen my wallet. “You, what’s your name”. “Mark” he answered. “Mark, grab my wallet out of your pocket and place it back in mine”. Mark looked scared and hesitant and didn’t know what to do at that point. I looked to the side and saw a big metal trash container standing not too far from where I was standing. I let out another big puff of air into the direction the trash container and it rolled further away until it hit a wall with a loud noise. I looked back at Mark with a very dominating look and with haste Mark stood up, grabbed my wallet and put it back in my jeans pocket as I ordered him to. To feel his big strong hand stroking my leg again made me moan a little bit because I knew it came fort of my dominating this big man. Mark looked at me with shock as he heard my small and little moan. I grabbed the collar of his shirt, put his face before mine and said, “Good boy”. I then gave him a little push and he fell back to where his friends where enjoying the show and fell back on the ground. I looked at the guy laying on the ground in fear and walked over to them. With the roles now reversed I put my fingers I stroke Mark’s beautiful strong looking jawline, it was such a site to behold to see this man that was normally on top of the food chain, dominated and scared by a little boy like me. I grabbed Mark by his neck and lifted him of the ground. With ease his body went up into the air until his feet were steady on the ground. “God you really weigh like nothing do you big man” I said. With my hand letting go of that thick neck of his I stroke his body a bit more. Mark was too scared to do anything of course. “Don’t worry big man, as long as you do as I say there is nothing to worry about” I said to the man who loosened up a little bit. “Flex those big biceps for me” I ordered him. Immediately Mark started flexing those very muscular arms for me and I just enjoyed the show. The peaks of pure muscle on this man were shining very well trough his shirt. I placed my hand on them, but they were not big enough for the full biceps to cover. I was very much enjoying the show mark gave me and I started to feel another part of my body stiffen up. I decided those muscles should be out shining in the moonlight. “Mark. Why don’t you order your friends to undress your hu…” Marks eyes grew in shock, but he knew better than to say no. His very powerfully voice gave the command to undress him, and his friends followed. They lifted his shirt, and it was a beautiful to see those beautiful abbs come out to show. Next up where his pecs to show them self’s. Pure brick muscles were catching the moonlight. When Mark was fully topless and his muscles so big that even Hercules would be jealous were out to show I walked up to Mark to feel this big man and I told him that he could do the same to me. I felt his big strong hands all over my body. Suddenly, I heard a little moan coming from Mark. Like he enjoyed what I was doing to him. I grabbed him between his legs and felt that his underwear filled with a big piece of meet. It was time for Marks friends to do some effort for me, I placed my arm round Marks waist and lifted him of the ground. The big man went up in the air and sat on my arm where I held him tight in place. He wasn’t going anywhere unless I wanted. I looked at Mark’s friends and asked their names. “Thom” one said with more excitement in his eyes than horror, looking at me, but also looking at Mark. “And you?” I asked the other one. “Jake, sir” he said. “Sir, ow I like that” I said to him. “Thom, Jake, why don’t you guys take each other’s top of huh…?” Without a second to waist the boys walked over to each other and started to take each other’s top of. I assumed the three of them always hit the gym together because the two boys were almost as big as Mark. Who I still had lifted of the ground and was sitting in my arm. His big feet dangling in the air. I put Mark back on the ground, turned him around so he would face me and placed both my hands on his hips, with no effort at all I lifted his feet off the ground again. Just a little bit this time. He was hovering like 10 cm of the ground. Still big Mark looked shocked over the superhuman strength my body had. While looking him in the eye I walked over to the other two and just like a doll, placed the big bodybuilder right between the boys. “Take of your pants” I ordered the three men. And again, without wasting a single second, they took of their shoes and then their pants. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Right in front of me were standing these three absolute units of strong looking muscular sexy men doing everything I said. The guys new exactly what I wanted because while I was gazing at all the muscle that was in front of me, they all started to flex their muscles, from beautiful bicep peaks to their upper leg muscles that were as big as my head. Jake even went so far as to touch and worship Mark and Thom. I could help myself after seeing that and placed my hand inside my pants and started to play with myself a little bit. I never thought these guys were so easy. But then again not that they had any choice. I wanted to fill their big strong hands on my own body, so I started to flex as well. “My turn” I said was I was doing my double bicep pose. The boys caught on, on the hint and walked up to me as fast as they can. They started to lift my shirt and unzipping my pants. To know that I had full control over three guys that looked like they would win every strength contest was a dream come true. Of course, I’ve played with my strength my whole life but that was just innocent fun. To finally use my strength for pure domination was a whole new world that I was ready to explore. The three very sexy and very muscular men that just undressed me where now worshipping me all over my body and I loved every bit of it. I felt big strong hands everywhere, on my arms, my chest, one of them was even playing with my nipples. And suddenly, I even felt one hand doing for my now very stiff hard peace of man meat. I let out a big moan. And heard the guys do the same. When I opened my eyes, I saw the men where fully going for it. Their underwear was filled with their own hard cocks as well. Al of a sudden I heard a request that I did not anticipate. “Show us more of your strength” Jake said to me. It took the other boys and me a bit by surprise but there weren’t protesting to the request either. who am I to turn down such a beautiful request. I placed my hand on Jake’s stomach. “Are you going to be a good boy from now on?” I said, and with full anticipation he nodded. I felt hiss beautiful rock hard abbs. As my hand landed on his underbelly, I opened my mouth and said “Lean in” to him. He did what I ordered him to and now with his full big bodybuilder weight fully on my hand I raised him up into the air. As if I just won this man in a contest, I held him high into the air above my head. He truly weighed nothing to me. Thom and Mark stopped what they were doing to and looked in shock and awh to the huge man that was high up in the air. They were enjoying the show as I lifted Jake up and down my head. I lowered my arm and then threw Jake high up in the air. The big man went flying, and when he came down, I caught him again with my other hand with no effort at all. I told Jake to pretend that he’s Superman. He tensed al the muscles in his body to pose as if he was flying like supermen always did. One arm forward and the other next to his body. I lifted my arm up and down like a little kid that was playing with a paper plane, I was playing with very big and muscular guys. I tossed Jake up one more time before I put his very beautiful strong looking feet back on the ground. “Can I go next?” Thom asked. It seemed that the guys who just tried to rob me where the biggest strength junkies I’ve encountered at that moment. They were not scared any more, they were horney as fuck for my superhuman strength and I did not mind delivering.

Hello everyone. After reading many stories here I've decided to try it for my own. English is not my first language so sorry for any spelling or grammer mistakes. But I hope you like it! Let me know what you think of it. -------------------------------- Hello to everyone who reads this, my name is James. Well, it’s not actually that but because I must keep my identity secret so I can’t tell you my real name. But however, I want you to tell you guys my story about my not so ordinary life with my very ordinaire family and friends. Before we dive in the not so ordinary stuff first let me tell you a little bit about my family, I live on a farm with a loving mother, a loving father and three loving brothers. You see the mother and father are not my actual mother and father… to be fair… I have no idea who my actual mother and father are. Not that I really care though… when I was a little baby, I got dropped off at the doorstep of the loving family that I live now. As I recall them saying “they took me in and cared for me like I was one of their own”. Same goes for the three men that I happily call my brothers. Now on to the not so very ordinary parts of my life… you see not very long after I got taken in by the smith family, they noticed I was a special little kid. I learned to walk very quick, and my motor skills developed very fast and well to. Then there was this other special thing... And with special I just mean that for my age… I was very strong. I could lift things that were supposed to way too heavy for let’s say a two-year-old. I remember a story of my mother Sophia that about the time that my strength developed that one day she came home from groceries she did for a big party. She was loading everything out of the car and put it on the ground so she could close the car before putting everything inside the house. She ordered my 3 brothers who were young teens at that time to come help. They were upstairs and were making their way down as the good boys they are. As I wanted to help to, I also made my way to her. She probably heard the door and that it was one of my brothers who made it outside. Without looking who it was, she ordered to put the three crates of beer inside because they were very heavy for her. Without a second thought, I moved to the three crates. Put my hands through the handles of the bottom one and lifted the three crates of the ground. When I almost reached the door, my brothers came outside and shouted like they just seen a ghost. It scared me a little and almost dropped the crates but luckily, I held them up. I looked at them and then looked at my mother who now also looked like she saw a ghost. But yeah, I can imagine that seeing a little boy who isn’t even old enough for school yet carry the weight a grown adult man could struggle with is close enough to seeing a ghost. That was the start of a journey that they never would have thought could happened. I must admit It could not have been easy for them to handle with this. They decided not to get any authorities involved because they were scared that they would take me in. So, they had to figure things out all on their own. Luckily, I became self-aware very quickly with the strength that only grew bigger and bigger. I’ve never reached a limit of who strong I really am. And I’ve lifted a lot of heavy stuff to find this limit. It was hard somethings knowing the right amount of strength to give on different situations, but I learned quick. If even I think it brought me closer to the loving family who raised me. When I could, I would help my mother out where I can. If there was cleaning to be done, I would lift the furniture for her so she can reach under it. Must be quite the site to be seeing. A small boy that was maybe five years old lifting a big and heavy family couch completely of the ground without any effort at all. And ow yeah, sometimes my father or brothers were sitting on that couch when I lifted it. It didn’t matter. It was fun for them, and it was fun for me. I would sometimes play with my three big brothers, and we would wrestle. It was always the three of them against me. Not that I cared of course. They did not stand a single chance. As they tried to take me down, I simply pushed them of me with one hand. If they jumped on me, I carried them without any troubles. Even if they tried all three at once. My small little boy arms where strong enough to lift them up and held them of the ground as long as I wanted to. And to remind you… we lived on a farm. So those men were very well build from al that farm work. Luckily my brothers always saw it as good fun and so it happened a lot. My strength also helped me a great deal to helping my father with work on the farm. I remembered when I was around like 13 years, my father had the misfortune of one of his tractors breaking down. He asked if I could help him to look what’s wrong, normally he would ask one of my brothers, but they were away at the time. I agreed and when we arrived in the shed, he would ask for tools, and I handed it to them. I heard him quietly complain that he could not watch the bottom of the tractor to maybe find what’s wrong with the dam machine. I think in his anger he forgot what I could do… and to be fair. I’ve lifted many heavy things at that time but never had I tested my strength on something big and heavy of the monstrous big tractor my father owned. When I heard him, I thought to myself to give it a go and see if my frail looking body was strong enough to lift it. I walked to the frontside of the tractor where my father thought the problem was. I placed my hands under the front of the enormous beast that was standing still right in front of me and tried to lift the front wheels of the ground. With me and my father’s surprise the wheels left the ground. My father fell backwards from the shock as I lifted the front of his tractor of the ground. To be fair it wasn’t even heavy. If you told me, it was a pillow I would have believed it. It felt amazing and to see my father’s reaction was even better. I curled the front of the machine up and down a couple of times just for fun. I then even lifted it over my head and tolled my father to have a look under it. Luckily, he found the problem and fixed it. So yeah, like I said a little backstory of my not so ordinary life with this beautiful ordinary family. A history of a lot of strength and lifting objects so heavy it would have given me the title of strongest man of the world. And to be fair I honestly think I am the strongest man of the world. I’ve never met anyone who came ever came close to my strength. And to be fair. I’m happy without that. Means I can protect the ones I love without a problem. And I love doing that. I’m a grown man now and my body developed in a very athletic looking one which of course I’m happy about. I’m 5,9” or 175cm tall and my abs are showing good, each ab is a well-developed brick of pure muscle. Hard a rock. I’ve got beautiful, strong formed pecs that show trough the clothes I’m wearing perfectly good-looking squares associated to my very strong looking shoulders. My legs also are very good looking in tight jeans were my very well-formed round bubble but also gets a lot of looks and attention. It gets a lot of people staring with lust in their eyes and of course that’s the most fun part. It’s not bad to look at and everyone who thinks the same can look who long they want, the phrase “My eyes are up here” is one I probably could say very much but why bother. I don’t mind when the ladies look but I love it when the men look if you catch my drift. So yeah, having the strength of many grown men and a body that is beautiful to look at is not something I complain about. And I’m happy that my body doesn’t represent my full strength. Means I can surprise people when I want to or feel the need to.

Chapter 1: Uncut? I like my men uncut. Both ways. Muscle and cock. Muscle: Heavy, off-season big. Cock: Natural, and full-grown. Finding just one? Hard. Hard enough. Both, on the same man? That’s a whole unicorn. Don’t let anybody tell you not to dream big. It was one of those crisp October mornings, the kind that makes you glad for a warm drink and the chance to eye a few rugged men across the way. They were hauling crates and setting up their booths. Micha sat at his table, stocked with tinctures and mushroom blends, all neatly labeled and set out for the kind of crowd that appreciates the finer things. But the name of his seasonal mix did tend to raise a few eyebrows. “Cocktober Uncut,” the label read, big and bold. Micha was aware of every raised eyebrow, every murmured what exactly is in this as people wandered past his booth, trying to act casual. His personal best seller—a blend meant to “enhance vigor,” or so he claimed with a wink—was a surprising hit. And while most customers just blushed or ignored the power-packed bottle, a few brave souls, usually the type with beards and flannel, would ask, “Does it work?” How to sell it? Give them a slow smile and a shrug that says, Oh, you’ll find out. Across the way, a man Micha'd been eyeing all morning—tall, broad, wrapped in a thick worn Carhartt jacket—emerged from his produce truck. He was pulling a few crates stacked high with big pumpkins and unusually large acorn squash. Micha ran his hand through his hair, watching for veins on those big hands across the way. When everything else is so covered, veins are the dead giveaway. Is it muscle, or is it fat? The guy reached up to unload a crate piled with pumpkins. Micha zeroed in like he's sighting down the barrel of a high-powered rifle, every muscle in his body going still. He squinted, lips pressed into a line of deadly focus. Deep breath in, eyes sharpening, tracking every inch of forearm. Sunlight glinted off the muscle, but—damn it—nothing rising. Nothing moving. Today’s vein report: low visibility. The bulk under that flannel could be regular fat. Or it might be no regular farm muscle, so strong, so big, lifting a heavy crate of pumpkins didn't make this man twitch. What are you hiding under all that soft flannel and heavy canvass? Anything big and round enough for me to lick? The earthy scent of his spiced blend mushroom mocha topped with sweet cream…this aroma always takes Micha back, every fall. He’d had one uncut man in his bed before—a rare man, like a unicorn—and damn if it hadn’t been everything Micha thought it would be. The man's warm skin, his soft glide, the way it felt watching the man lose himself. The man didn’t hold back—didn’t have to. Natural, pure pleasure. Just remembering, Micha’s gut schlicked, pulling at him, sparking his heat, like he’s flicking his thumb on his steel zippo lighter, the one with the custom-etched rose and single jutting shroom shooting towards the stars. Then, of course, there was the slap of reality afterward. Since God blessed America, all the boys have been cut. Micha spiraled his thumb over the soft rubbery round black dropper top of his Cocktober Uncut. All I wanted? Was the choice. As a man. A waft of earth and his favorite woodsy mushrooms floated up from his table, pulling him back. He adjusted the label on the “Cocktober Uncut” blend, glancing back to farmer in flannel across the way. He couldn't quite tell, but he let himself wonder. This might be my chance. Sure, Micha was trying to rein it in, pretending to focus on arranging his tinctures and mushroom powders. But his mind kept catching on the broad-shouldered figure covering up every damn thing in the sun with a Carhartt too big for even his bulk. Ridiculous how easy it was to imagine what could be under there. Could be uncut muscle, he thought, eyeing the guy’s hefty frame with a hint of a smirk. Born and blessed with a hot tongue, Micha knew he could get a man for himself. But for some reason, this guy had him rethinking his strategy, got his heart thudding at the thought of actually finding a big man who might just tick all his boxes. Two, to be exact. Two in one. Uncut cock, and heavy uncut offseason muscle. And damn it, the mystery was getting to him. His grin softened. Keep the jacket on, big guy, he thought, to calm himself down. It’s more fun to imagine. Uncut muscle, he mused, letting himself get lost in the idea. Maybe. Just maybe. The man could be a solid slab of potential. Broad shoulders, probably hefting those crates like they’re paperweights, thick biceps that might be making that flannel groan …all wrapped in a jacket so thick? He’s got to be hiding something underneath. Either something so underwhelming he dresses it down, or something impressive enough to keep it quiet. Sure, maybe the double uncut dream was as rare as a unicorn. Micha knows, he was gonna have to find a man not made in America. But don’t let anybody tell you not to dream big. The big guy reached for one of his own wine bottles, the deep green glass catching the light in his hand as he turned to a young couple standing with him. The couple looked fresh out of college, with the feathery but pressed-clean hippie look Micha knew well. Berkeley. She was holding her guy’s arm. He was tangling their fingers together behind their asses. They listened to the man’s low and rolling voice. Probably explaining something about the grapes. Or maybe the way he processes the soil. Micha couldn't hear the words. Didn't matter. The words don't matter. The depth and roll does. He narrowed his eyes, focusing in. Come on, roll that shoulder, big guy. Give me something. Micha let his fingers linger on the neck of his own tiny amber bottle. The guy’s hand wrapped around a gleaming green antique glass—his big, sturdy fingers, his broad palm, covering it with ease. Mmhm. Big boned. He’s got that, for sure. The way the guy moved, handling the bottles like they were empty instead of corked and full to the brim, the slow flex of his grip… enough to make Micha imagine: Biceps big enough to make lifting heavy weight look easy, pecs straining under all that flannel. Hell, there could be more power and size packed into those arms than he’d ever seen up close. Could be hiding a lot of mass under that damn canvass jacket. And damn if I'm not going to find out.