setting-gym Dylan, Chapter 4: Dylan At The Gym

[musclehintz]

Dylan at the Gym

 

The heavy muscleboy sat in the back of Kyle’s car as they drove to the gym, lazily eating out of a bag of fresh grapes from the grocery store. It was the third one he had devoured; the first bag held a dozen apples, while the second held almost as many peaches. It seemed to Kyle that Dylan’s appetite was insatiable. ‘It makes sense, though,’ the photographer thought to himself, ‘How else does a high school kid grow that huge?’

 

It was a relatively long drive, but they reached the gym eventually. It wasn’t huge, but it was the biggest one around, and would, Kyle hoped, suffice. As the two walked in, they were greeted by the receptionist, a fairly attractive well-muscled college-aged jock, probably in his early twenties, who would have been quite impressive had he not been in the proximity of Dylan.

 

“Hey, dudes, lookin’ pretty great,” the jock grinned at Kyle and Dylan, though his eyes were only gazing at the teenager’s muscles, running over each of Dylan’s shirt-hugging abs and heaving pecs. “I just need to see your membership card before you go on in. If you don’t have one, I can get you a temporary card for a small fee.”

 

Kyle was about to pull out his wallet to pay for Dylan, but the muscleteen acted before he could. “Excuse me, sir, but I don’t have a membership. And I don’t have money on me, either.”

 

“You don’t have a membership? That explains why I’ve never seen you before, kid… I definitely would have remembered a guy as big as you.” The guy shrugged, “I can’t let you go through though without a membership, though. I’m really sorry about that.”

 

Dylan’s raised his brows, and a faint smirk sneaked upon his face. Kyle heard the boy’s sleeves groan as his enormous arms crossed in front of his chest. “I came here to work out, and I’m not going away until I pump some real iron. It would be pretty bad for both us if I didn’t get what I want.” He bounced his pecs, resulting in the massive chest muscles punching violently against the strained fabric. The college kid had to blink a few times to believe that those huge pecs were real; it didn’t seem possible that anything so meaty and bulky could be so elastic and supple. “You catch my drift?”

 

The receptionist shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, dude, I’d never want to piss off a beast like you, but I don’t think you understand. You need a membership to go through.”

 

“Just let me pay for the temporary membership, Dylan…”

 

The hulking adolescent turned his head towards Kyle and winked as if to say, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” Then, turning back, Dylan placed his hands behind his head. “I think it’s you who doesn’t understand, mister. You see these guns?” The receptionist looked over at the boy’s massive arms, admiring their round, hulking enormity, and the way the muscles seemed to shift lazily underneath, relaxed, powerful muscle that might have resembled a fleshy bowling ball… and, suddenly, Dylan twitched his biceps. The sleeves tightened for a second, but they couldn’t hold. The resulting flex tore straight through the already-strained sleeves, unveiling the mouthwatering teenage beef that would better be described as 'cannons' than 'guns'. “These bad boys ARE my membership. Who says I can’t go through? You? My puppies disagree, don’tcha, lil’ guys?” He looked over to his right and flexed his arm. Dylan’s biceps soared high enough that, without even tilting his head, he could kiss the very tip of it with his beautiful, masculine lips. 

 

“You think my puppies are right, man?”

 

He looked back at the receptionist, to see that the college jock was breathing heavily at the sight, a growing wet spot forming on his cargo pants. “I… you’re right, kid, you’re just, just… fuck, dude, I need to feel those…” The man reached out to touch Dylan’s gargantuan muscles, but a disapproving frown from the colossal muscleboy told him to stop mid-stretch. The receptionist's eyes were filled with lust and desire, his heart jerking towards Dylan's irresistibly attractive body, and when Dylan frowned, Kyle saw the receptionist's heart break in those yearning eyes. “Go on through, I, I, I won’t tell my boss, sir…”

 

Kyle and Dylan continued past the counter, as the receptionist ran off to get a change of pants. Before they entered the weightroom, the muscleboy stopped and grinned down at the blond photographer. “I hope I didn’t freak you out back there. It’s just that you’ve been awfully nice to me, letting me stay over at your place during the rainstorm last night, and driving me all the way over here, and everything. I didn’t want you to have to pay for me too, so I used my… ‘persuasion skills’ to get us both a free membership. My ex always told me that I can be pretty scary when I’m persuading someone.” He grinned.

 

‘Scary,’ Kyle thought, ‘But also sexy as fuck.’ The way Dylan’s biceps effortlessly exploded through the shirt’s fabric made Kyle hard as hell. The kid hadn’t even lifted today, but his muscles were already getting pumped up bigger than most bodybuilders on TV. ‘Shit… and he's still in high school, too, barely even legal…’

 

“Anyways,” the musclegod continued, “At least everybody will know not to get in my way while I work out, right?” Dylan chuckled at the way Kyle’s eyes seemed glued to his gigantic biceps. “C’mon, let’s go.” He opened the door to the weightroom and gestured Kyle to enter. “Ladies first.”

 

---

 

Donald was proud of what he had accomplished. At 260lbs of muscle, Donald was huge, a true titan, with a fit 34-inch waist that made it obvious his mass wasn’t from eating burgers. He knew his effect on women, on men, his ability to hypnotize others with his incredible bulk and physique. He wasn’t always this big; the bulky redhead had suffered from obesity as a teenager. Everyone made fun of him, so one day he decided to improve on his body. That was the day when he transformed from the introverted fat kid to the hunk he had become today.

 

The bodybuilder snapped back to the present. Donald was feeling pretty good about himself that day; it was the day before his competition, his fourth one. The first three had been a cinch to win, and he had bulked up twenty pounds since he last he hit the stage. Donald was sure he would win this one too. 

 

Today was chest day for Donald, which was good, because Donald’s pecs were his favorite part of his body. He went to work, lying down, his huge muscles spreading as he prepped himself up, then his arms grasping the bar, lifting it as he proceeded to pump one, two, three, four, FIVE reps with 585lbs. It was his bench press record, and he was proud as hell that he was strong enough to rep it five times on his first attempt. He was the biggest, baddest guy around, and everyone envied him. Or so he thought. 

 

Suddenly, a massive, hulking, shirtless giant walked by. He was way bigger than Donald… and he seemed to be way more ripped, too. The giant smiled down at Donald, a handsome smile with sparkling teeth and stunning brown eyes, though the bodybuilder could barely make out the musclegod’s face in the bright light from the gym ceiling. “Nice job, man,” the giant rumbled, his voice oozing youthful masculinity, “You look pretty buff. Wanna’ spot me?”

 

Donald only worked out with big guys; he didn’t associate with anyone below 200lbs. But this stud was obviously way, way bigger than that, he even dwarfed Donald himself! Grudgingly, the bodybuilder stood up behind the bench and wiped the sweat from his brow. This musclegod may be fucking massive, but there’s no way he could be stronger than Donald. 

 

Then the giant musclebeast laid down on the bench and started pumping out reps. As the musclefreak was pressing the bar, Donald finally caught a glimpse of his face, and… holy fuck! How old was this kid?

 

“…eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Fuck yeah, that was a sweet warm-up! Hey, man, can ya’ add two more 45lbs plates to each side? I need to get a REAL pump in these babies…”

 

The older bodybuilder obeyed, adding 180lbs to the bar. While the teen resumed benching, Donald added up the weights in his head… 765lbs! Damn!

 

“Hey, kid,” Donald said after the muscleteen had finished another set of twenty reps, “Just who are you, anyways?”

 

The boy sat up, surprised. “Oh, I guess I never introduced myself, huh? I’m Dylan. High school senior.” He extended his arm out, palm open. “And you are…?”

 

“The name’s Donald, and I’m a bodybuilder” the redhead grasped Dylan’s hand and shook it. Out of habit, Donald squeezed the kid’s hand to test his strength. The kid smiled at him, revealing two rows of flawless white teeth… and then returned the squeeze with mind-blowing pressure. He nearly crushed Donald’s fist in his grip! The bodybuilder winced as he pulled his arm back, but the teenager didn’t seem to have even noticed the effect of his bone-crushing grasp on the older bodybuilder. “Shall we get back to the workout?”

 

---

 

Meanwhile, Kyle watched from a distance as Dylan showed off to the bodybuilder, snapping a photo quietly every few seconds. These pictures were coming out perfectly. Each of Dylan’s reps made the muscleteen’s massive arms explode, his gargantuan pecs inflate until they looked like they would rip out of the “Get BIG n’ BUFF 4XL” t-shirt at any moment. As the muscleboy worked out, an arrogant smirk slowly spreading upon his gorgeous lips, the older bodybuilder stood behind him gaping at the teen’s superhuman strength as Dylan easily pumped the enormous weights. These pictures would be excellent advertising for BIG n’ BUFF.

 

---

 

Donald was shocked as Dylan finished his last set. For the finale, the unstoppable muscleteen had 855lbs on the bar, almost three hundred pounds more than Donald’s own bench record! The kid pumped out ten reps, but just when Donald thought he would stop, the kid pumped out ten more. And ten after that. And then ten again. By the time the freak kid was done, Donald had counted fifty reps, and Dylan still wasn’t tired!

 

“Don’t want to drain my energy too soon,” the kid winked at Donald. “Besides, if my pecs get any bigger I’ll have to buy a new shirt! My biceps have already ripped through the sleeves…”

 

“Goddamn, kid, if I didn’t just see you bench over three times your bodyweight, I’d think you’re on juice! You’re not taking anything, are you?”

 

Dylan shook his head, droplets of fine sweat slinging off his dark hair, “Hell no. My musclepower comes solely from a balanced diet of bread, meat, fruit, and veggies, and everything in between. I eat anything and everything, and no matter what I consume, it all turns into pure muscle.” The adolescent raised his right bicep and flexed, admiring the enormous musclesphere, “Incidentally, that bench was less than three times my bodyweight. I weighed myself in at 318lbs last time I checked.”

 

Donald’s eyes widened. “Last time you checked?”

 

“A week ago,” Dylan admitted, the tone of his voice a mixture of innocent and cocky. "I might be heavier now..."

 

“Ho-ly-Shit! You’re a genetic freak if I’ve ever seen one!” And then, realizing what he had just said, “Not in a bad way, of course! I wouldn’t want to piss off a stud like you! But damn, over three hundred pounds and still in high school. I bet the ladies can’t get enough of you.”

 

Dylan laughed, walking over to the pull-up bar, the big meaty spheres of his glutes grinding against each other with every stride. “Yeah, I hear that a lot. Come over here and help me with my workout.”

 

The bodybuilder followed the muscleteen, curious what the kid planned to do. Dylan handed him a belt. On it were two hundred pounds of iron.

 

“Wear this,” the kid ordered. Donald obeyed. “Now grab onto my neck and hold on tight.”

 

As soon as he did so, Dylan started powering out reps on the pull-up bar. Up and down, up and down, the teen tirelessly pulled nearly 800lbs using only his lat and arm muscles. Grasping the kid’s incredible body, Donald could actually FEEL Dylan’s enormous back blossom into a vast plane of unyielding muscle, even under the shirt spread so thin across his powerful torso that it was starting to look more like a coat of paint than an actual garment. The muscleteen counted reps, “Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…” but the bodybuilder was too busy holding onto Dylan’s body to listen, the kid’s muscles expanding with every pump and forcing apart his fingers with their growing size. The weight belt pulled down on Donald’s mass, making it even harder for the bodybuilder to keep his grip. Donald growled and applied every ounce of strength he had to holding onto that teenage body, but even his strongest grip couldn’t dent the stud’s impossibly dense musculature as the muscleboy vigorously pumped out reps. “Sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three…” the teenager counted, each rep inflating his biceps a little bigger, his back a little wider, his power a little stronger. The kid started sweating, drenching his shirt in overwhelming male sudor. Donald was dizzy as the slippery, sweaty mountain of muscle burgeoned beneath his fingers, and he felt that he could barely hold on…

 

---

 

Kyle continued observing the scene. Dylan had flexed his bicep, a prodigious ball of muscle exploding from his arm, and the bodybuilder’s jaw dropped in awe at such mind-boggling enormity. SNAP! Picture perfect. The dude was blown away by the teen’s overwhelming size, and the photo showed it. Then Dylan indicated towards another part of the gym, and the two headed off to… a pull-up bar? The kid handed the older guy a weighted belt with an ungodly amount of steel on it, saying a few words while he flashed that trademark perfect smile of his (‘does he even realize how hot those lips are?’). Then Dylan grabbed onto the pull-up bar and started pumping out reps… with the bodybuilder hanging on his back! The kid ceaselessly pulled up their combined weight, probably over 800 pounds, and didn’t stop until the guy holding onto him looked like he was about to fall off.

 

---

 

When Dylan dropped back to the ground, Donald fell off his back. He was breathing hard, exhausted, his big, muscled arms aching from hanging onto the powerful teenager. He had never imagined being lifted so easily! And by a kid, not even out of high school!

 

“…and that makes one hundred reps!” the teenage musclegod announced. He looked down on the floor, where Donald was lying, exhausted. “What up, big guy? You can’t be tired already, we just started! Get off your ass and help me do squats!”

 

For the next two hours Dylan and Donald worked out. Dylan, of course, dominated. Donald was getting more and more worn-out from just trying to keep up with the teen’s heavy lifts, and yet the muscleboy himself was an unstoppable fountain of vigor. Every time he pumped up his muscles, Dylan seemed to have a new surge of energy. Donald could hardly comprehend how this high school kid was easily lifting weights that powerlifters would envy, and the fact that the boy seemed to gain more musclepower, more dynamic energy with every flex just blew his mind. Of course, by this time Dylan’s record-breaking work-out had attracted quite a few other gym-goers, muscular guys and skinny guys alike. They asked the muscleboy about his schedule, his diet, his stats, even his favorite work-out music, but once Dylan made it obvious that he wouldn’t appreciate distractions from his lifting, the overzealous fans backed away.

 

“Shit, kid,” Donald said, “You’re more jacked than I ever dreamed of being. I remember in college girls thought I was hot as fuck, and I was way smaller than you are. I can’t even imagine all the pussy you must be getting with a body like that, kid.”

 

Dylan laughed as he curled two 180lbs barbells. With each rep his biceps bulged into gigantic cannonballs, and as they stretched his triceps formed a delicious arc twice as big. Donald watched the teen’s arms as they continued to flex and expand. He felt something, a sort of awe, familiar and yet nostalgic. It was the same awe he experienced back when he first saw a bodybuilder flex in one of his magazines. But this muscleboy fucking dwarfed that old bodybuilder, it wasn’t even a competition. He remembered being a fat kid in high school, back when the mean jocks used to corner him in the hallway and use his flabby belly as a punching bag. Donald was glad Dylan wasn’t one of those jocks. A punch from Dylan could probably do way more damage than anything those high school jocks did.

 

“What’s your shirt say?” Donald asked. “Get BIG n’ BUFF… 4XL… what’s that?”

 

The teen dropped the dumbbells on the floor. Thirty reps with each arm. He flexed. Fucking huge. Huger than ever.

 

“BIG n’ BUFF? It’s a company. They make workout equipment. Make supplements too. I always use their shit. You should check them out”

 

It was a lie, of course, but a harmless one. Donald was enraptured. “BIG n’ BUFF, huh? I’ll look them up as soon as I get home. Sounds like the kind of stuff I need to gain more muscle.”

 

Dylan shrugged, striding over to the mirror. He lifted the hem of his shirt, revealing two columns of ripped, shredded muscle. “Yeah, check out these abs. I’ve got a fucking eight-pack here.” He casually glanced at the older bodybuilder. “Come here, see if you can hurt me.”

 

“No way man,” Donald shook his head, “I’m exhausted. I can hardly even move my arm.”

 

“Don’t worry, I won’t flex,” Dylan promised. He let out a deep breath and relaxed his abs, though they still looked dense as lead. “See?”

 

“Fine, then,” the redhead grumbled. He walked in front of Dylan, forming a fist as hard as he could. Then, pulling his arm back, turning his hips, he swung his fist into the teen’s midsection, putting the entire momentum of his body into that one superpunch. 

 

Instantly, Donald cried out in pain. He collapsed on the floor, holding his fist in his other hand. “Shit! I think you almost cracked my knuckles! You said you wouldn’t flex, damn it!”

 

“I didn’t, dude,” Dylan replied, “This is what my abs would look like if they were flexed.” Then, tensing his lower torso, Dylan really flexed his muscles. His rippling abs actually started to grow and bulge and push out against each other, eight bricks of muscle that were each easily distinguished by the eye, powerful slabs unyielding and indestructible. The Greek Gods carved out of marble couldn’t hope to imitate such hardness.

 

“Now that you got a chance to punch me, it’s only fair I get to punch you.” Dylan chuckled when he saw Donald’s horrified face. “I’m only kidding, dude. I’m don’t want to kill ya’.” Then, crouching down next to Donald, he said, “You’ve been a great work-out buddy. I’m going to stay here a bit longer, but you’re totally drained. Go home and get some rest. Maybe we can work-out again some time.”

 

Dylan winked at the older bodybuilder one last time before walking away. Donald quickly collected himself and drove home as fast as he could. He had never reacted this way to another man, but this incredible teenage musclegod, with his handsome face and his mind-boggling power and his irresistible youth and virility, this kid made him gay if he wasn’t already. He was going to have a very long jerk-off session this afternoon. It would be the longest of his life.

 

---

 

The teen giant strode into the locker room. Kyle was there, shuffling through the pictures in his camera.

 

“Like what you saw?” The muscleboy asked. He walked over and sat down next to Kyle, looking into the camera. There was a photo of a beautiful, gargantuan muscular man squatting a barbell holding an unfathomable amount of weight. The teen’s perfect lips were spread into a smile that was calm, casual, almost smug as he pressed over half a ton of iron with his powerful, delicious glutes. By contrast, the man spotting him had his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide, as if in awe, perhaps with jealousy or even lust. A few other men and women could be seen in the background of the photo, though they all seemed puny in relation to the musclebeast. Most of them was looking in the superhuman boy’s direction. One older man almost looked like he had a boner, though it could have just been a trick of the light.

 

“Liked it? I loved it! You went through every single pose and flex imaginable. These photos are going to turn out great.” Kyle paused a bit as he shifted his eyes from the camera to the teenager. Fuck. Over three hundred pounds of muscle. Godlike strength. Sexy face. Sitting right next to him. He looked even bigger up close, pumped powerfully from the workout. The kid could rape him and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Not that he would mind.

 

“There’s only one thing left. I should have done this earlier, but I thought I should ask you for your permission first. The people who I am selling these photos to, well, they’ve wanted to get some shirtless shots of you for their advertising campaign. I’m not going to force you to do it if you don’t want to, Dylan, but I’m willing to pay a nice bonus if you do.”

 

The muscleboy chuckled. “Kyle, you think I’d feel shy about doing a shirtless pic? Dude, I love showing off! Don’t even bother paying me extra.”

 

And that’s how Dylan’s first shirtless photos came about.

 

Kyle ended up taking about a dozen or so shots with his camera. They all turned out perfectly. First, he had Dylan flex his pecs, tearing the BIG n’ BUFF shirt down the middle. It was a torso shot, with the muscleteen staring directly at the camera with those big beautiful brown eyes that made Kyle shudder. The boy’s pecs heaved forward, bursting through the fabric of the shirt like a surge of water through a dam, the two enormous muscle-pillows exploding towards the camera. His arms were held at his side, balls of muscle relaxed and yet huge; even unflexed, it was impossible to ignore Dylan’s impressive biceps and triceps. In another shot, Dylan was in the shower, his eyes closed, mouth barely open as tiny droplets of water splattered over his seductive male body and soaked his powerful muscles. The photo offered a breathtaking view of his monstrous pectorals, his colossal arms, and his flawless eight-pack. A third shot featured Dylan showing off his broad, expansive back. The staggering width of the muscleboy’s shoulders was only more amazing when contrasted with his skinny waist; Dylan’s belly was tiny even compared to most female models! At the bottom of the photo, one could easily see the muscleteen’s thick prominent glutes pushing against his basketball shorts, the deliciously erotic musclebutt seeming to explode from the boy’s miniscule waist. Dylan’s powerful neck was twisted towards the camera so that he could gaze directly at the viewer. He was winking, and his lips were curled in a cocky smirk, as if saying, ‘Yeah, I know you want this’.

 

“That’s amazing, Dylan,” the blond finally said. “Let’s wrap this up and go home.”

 

---

 

Kyle drove Dylan back to the teen’s house. The radio was turned up, playing the latest pop music. Dylan casually popped and flexed his muscles to the tune as if pumping weights. The photographer worked hard to keep his eyes on the road, despite the bulging mass of beauty sitting in his backseat.

 

“The company is Big n’ Buff, right?” the teen suddenly asked

 

“Which company?”

 

“You know, the one you’re selling my pictures to. Big n’ Buff?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Kyle replied, “That’s them. They make equipment and supplements and stuff. 

 

Dylan shrugged. “I told that bodybuilder who I was working out with about it. Told him that I’ve been using it for a while, and that he should use their products too if he wants to be big like me.”

 

The photographer chuckled. “Using it for a while, have you? The company itself is fairly young. They’ve had a rough first year and they’re looking for a few models to help them promote their image and attract more customers.”

 

“Then why not let me talk to them?” the muscleboy asked. “Next time you meet up with them, bring me along too. I can help you strike a deal with them. I’m great at persuading people..." and then, with a naughty grin, "but you know that already, don't you?”

 

Kyle thought about it for a few seconds. “Sounds like a good idea. I haven’t actually talked to anyone there yet. I have a middleman, or rather a middlewoman, whom I talk to first. But I’ll see what we can do about arranging a meeting.”

 

After a few more minutes of driving, they reached Dylan’s house.

 

“Thanks a lot for everything, Kyle. I'm serious, you've been a really awesome friend to me.” The muscleboy smiled, “When I become internationally famous, I’ll pay you back for everything.”

 

Dylan didn't know it at the time, but those words were destined to come true.

 

“Yeah, right, big guy” the photographer laughed, “Call me when you find the solution for world peace.”

 

Kyle watched the hulking muscleboy shut the door behind him. Then, with a sigh of lost passion, he drove back home.

[iceman751]

This is definitely my favorite chapter of Dylan so far, awesome power and muscle description in this one, showing that the 18 year old muscle boy is absolutely superior to each and every person in the gym... put together.

[sixergirl]

this is my favorite installment of the dylan series. in fact, it's my favorite muscle story ever. i was impatiently waiting for you to re-post this, because it's so good.

gaaaaah, dylan is so sexy here. from 'persuading' the receptionist to dominating the workout, and then the photoshoot, ugh... i basically died.

[NerdJock]

Nice!  Though you might want to re-edit it.  Looks like you copied the story in twice and the ending is a bit garbled.  

[musclehintz]

Nice!  Though you might want to re-edit it.  Looks like you copied the story in twice and the ending is a bit garbled.  

 

Thanks for informing me! I have it fixed now.

[musclehintz]

With Chapter 5 up now, the current chapters of the Dylan series have been completely reposted! I hope that those of you who read the original have enjoyed revisiting the stories, and those who are new to the series have enjoyed it along the way!

 

I'm currently working on Chapter 6. It's a little more than halfway done, and I'll post it as soon as it's completed. In my opinion, Chapter 6 is going to be the hottest one yet. For those of you who want to see Dylan express his more dominant side, I think you'll love what comes next!