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The Hanazin Warrior academy


ZFerrari

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I just saw this story on the old forums, and I thought it was really good so I'm just reposting it here. Shouts out to Oliver904 the original author.

 

Sean's body ached all night, so he didn't get a good night's sleep. He did manage a few hours, but his blaring alarm clock told him it was time to get up for another horrid day of school. And his alarm clock actually blared, as for some reason, it seemed a hundred times louder.

Sean was 18 years old, and a senior in high school. He was never a morning person, but today was different--for most parts at least. He still was groggy when he went to brush his teeth, his brain still unaware of everything, even as he glared at a strangly different reflection staring back at him (he thought he was still half asleep), but today was his birthday.

It wasn't until he went to change out of his bed clothes that he noticed he wasn't wearing any. He shook his head and blinked his eyes to rid his morning handicaps, and almost immediatly passed out.

Sean couldn't believe his eyes, literally, as he turned to look in the mirror next to him they were a different color. His once dark brown eyes were now blue. But his eyes weren't what flustered him. His hair had changed--from strait black to curly blond. And still, most of all, his body had changed. There wasn't the dark, sporadic hair growth he had despised since puberty, instead a light, fine blond covering had replaced it. His skin was the smoothest he had ever seen it, and most spectacular of all, his body--well, it just wasn't his body.

His once almost concave chest was now like the chests of the swimmers he saw in the Olympics. He pushed his arms down to see the straitions in the center deepen into ripped muscle. He ran a hand down the bumps of his now six-pack abdomen, stopping as his finger touched the lower parts. The muscle was extremely lean there, both sides a "y" shaped vein running across the dark, tanned, surface. He saw his hands then, their power seeming dangerous, perhaps deadly. They looked like hands for crushing. Sean opened and closed his palms, watching the veins flex from his forearms and biceps. He turned to the side to check his shoulders, three striated sections defying the skin, a single vein on both sides mapping their way to his bulging pecs. He flexed his triceps like he saw the bodybuilders do on T.V., watching as the muscle formed the perfect horseshoe shape.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Sean turned towards the door of his bedroom. He realized his door wasn't locked. Whoever it was, they were going to freak when they saw him, and most likely not in the good way.

"Just a second," Sean said.

But the person didn't abide, and the door swung open, Sean standing dead center, naked.

"Dad..." Sean said, not knowing what else to say as he glared at his father standing there with birthday cake in hand.

"Happy Birthday," his dad said. He put the cake down on a nearby dresser, and grabbed Sean into a tight embrace. "Happy Birthday, son," he said again, lifting Sean from the floor as if his new body was not a factor. "Eighteen, Sean. Finally." He eyed Sean up and down. "Look at you! That's my boy!"

Sean saw what he was glaring at. His cock had hardened from all the excitement, and now sat there throbbing up and down with each beat of his now pounding heartbeat.

"Dad!" Sean said, turning around as quickly as he could.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Sean," his father said.

"Dad," said Sean, "I'm naked--and is my penis the first thing you noticed."

His father laughed, clapping his hands together. "Sorry, but it's been a while since my transformation, you know."

"T-transformation?"

Sean had always thought his father was huge, but he just thought he worked out a lot. And even now, the red A-shirt his father wore exposed the massive slabs of meat that were his pecs, his shorts revealing the vascular muscle of his cut, lean quads, and perfectly defined calves, the right one having a thick vein running down to his ankle.

His father pointed to Sean's bed. Sean had been too preoccupied with his new muscles that he didn't even think about what had happened to his bed clothes. Sean walked up to his bed and lifted up the shredded remains of his Hanes t-shirt and small boxer briefs.

"You mean, at night?" Sean asked. "I transformed...transformed into this?"

His father smiled. "All people like you and me do on their 18th birthday."

Sean didn't know what to say.

"Eat your cake later," his father said, breaking the silence. "Why don't you come downstairs first. There's someone who wants to speak with you--oh, and don't forget to get dressed." He smiled.

Sean's face flushed a bright red. He nodded, and his father left the room, closing the door behind him.

***

It took Sean a good ten minutes to find something that would fit, and in the end, he succeeded with a black sleeveless shirt, that still felt as if it would shred if he flexed his pecs, and some gym shorts, the massive, cut, vein covered legs unable to hide into his normal jeans. Sean found that he actually had to tighten the drawstring of his shorts just to keep them on his now 28 inch waist.

As he reached the last step, his eyes settled on a huge man standing in the living room with his father. He wore a black, sleeveless Karate-Gi, the muscles in his chest and arms easily visible beneath. Sean had to check if his jaw was hanging on the floor.

"You must be Sean," the man said, walking up to him. He extended his hand.

For a minute Sean was afraid to take it, thinking the man just might crush the very bones in his hand, but took the shake in good faith and manners.

The man looked back at his father. "So the prank tradition continues."

Sean's father chuckled. "Like you said, tradition."

"Prank? This can't be a prank?" Sean said, his spirits falling a bit.

"Oh, no no no--not the transformation bit, just the 'not giving you proper clothing for the night'. If you want my opinion, I was kind of glad my father didn't give me fitting clothing either," the man said with a laugh. "I'm Professor Michael Pearce, of the Hanazin Warrior Academy. I'm the head of the House of Dragahna."

Sean noticed the patchwork on the left breast of his gi. There was a Huge, Muscular man (looking a lot like the one standing in front of him) surrounded by a transparent golden orb--like a force field, and that surrounded by a wreath of olive branches. I'm here as your guide."

"Guide?"

"Guide to help you settle into your new school."

Sean didn't know if he should cheer, or sulk. He hated his present school, but the idea of going to a new one. Honestly, everything was happening to fast to comprehend.

"First things first," Prof. Pearce said. "Take off your clothes." •

 


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But I just put them on,” Sean said.

“I need you to take them off for the test,” Prof. Pearce said.

“Test?” said Sean. “Already?”

“Not that type of test, Sean. Don’t worry, it’s just so I can evaluate where the best place to put you would be.”

“Alright,” Sean said, shrugging his pumped, ripped shoulders. Like he thought, he only had to flex into a chest pose, and his shirt shredded from back to front. “My shorts too?”

Prof. Pearce nodded, and Sean took off his shorts, not opting for the quick method—he thought he might need them later if he didn’t have anything else.

“Very impressive,” Prof. Pearce said, circling Sean’s naked form. “I see you have your father’s genetics—lean, yet powerful muscle. Your vascularity is also very impressive for being at a resting phase.” He raised a hand off to his side, and suddenly the furniture started rearranging itself, as if moved by some invisible force, clearing the floor around them.

“Did you do that?” Sean asked.

“Questions later, Sean,” Prof. Pearce said. “You’re in the middle of a test.”

Sean nodded, a bit embarrassed.

“First, the test of strength and endurance,” said Prof. Pearce. He raised his hand again, and two metallic balls, about the size of baseballs, rose from a black duffel bag and into the professor’s huge palms. “These balls can be programmed for any weight, pounds to tons.” He looked at Sean. “Stand here,” he said, pointing to the center of the cleared area. Sean obeyed. “How much do you usually curl?”

“Curl, Sir?”

“Bicep Curls?” Prof. Pearce said. “You do them, don’t you?”

Sean shook his head. “Not really.”

“Don’t worry,” said Prof. Pearce. The balls let off a blue aura that faded as quickly as it had begun. “We’ll just start you at…say, 550.”

“550 what?”

“Pounds, of course,” Prof. Pearce said. “Don’t want to start you on tonnage right off the bat.” Prof. Pearce handed the metal orbs over to Sean.

The balls felt a bit heavy, but not 550lbs, more like 20 by Sean’s estimation—he wasn’t much of a lifter. He wouldn’t have believed that’s what was in his hand if all that had happened hadn’t already happened.

“If I drop ‘em—”

“Don’t,” said Prof. Pearce.

Sean nodded. He stood still for a good few seconds.

“Well, lift already,” Prof. Pearce said. “Curl them up.” He grabbed Sean’s wrists and showed him the motion. “Up and down, that’s all there is to it.”

From the very first curl, Sean’s biceps looked like they were ready to burst from his skin—like somebody had put two softballs in his skin and covered them with thick steel wires. Sean watched again as his forearms flexed and became corded, each section and striation of muscle clearly visible as they worked to hold the metal orbs. With each rep his muscles felt stronger, not weaker, as if he could go on all day, and he could almost see the blood running through his bulging veins, supplying his muscles with the necessary power. His biceps looked like they were working hard, but he didn’t feel it, and within one minute he had already done 100 reps, starting slow at first, but building speed as the confidence of his strength overtook his apprehension.

“I’m going to increase the weight, Sean,” Prof. Pearce said, and the two metal balls glowed the familiar blue.

They did become substantially heavier, but still, nothing Sean couldn’t handle. In fact, he didn’t even slow down.

“That’s 1,100lbs, twice what you were doing,” said Prof. Pearce. “How’s it feel?”

Sean looked down at his arms, the “y-vein” in his right bicep grew larger and now there was another smaller vessel moving horizontal from it. Did his biceps grow? They did look rounder, more defined

He had reached 500 reps now, his muscles deeply corded and bulging, his cock, thick and throbbing, 12 inches long, now displayed for everyone to see. He wanted so bad just to reach down and stroke it, but he couldn’t risk dropping the metal orbs, and he didn’t want the surging feeling of power to stop.

Funny thing was, Prof. Pearce didn’t seem to notice, as if this was something he had seen all the time. Even as his cock dripped dollops of its own lubrication onto the floor, he didn’t seem bothered. Honestly, it had stopped bothering Sean as well. He was beginning to feel good being naked, his brain entertaining thoughts of walking back into his high school, cock hangin’ out, muscles bulging, just to rub it in all the senior boy’s faces.

“Swimmer’s Press,” said Prof. Pearce, miming the motion to Sean.

Sean followed, catching on immediately, pumping out 30 reps in the first 10 seconds.

“Now, bend your knees,” Prof. Pearce said, and Sean obeyed.

Sean glanced down at his legs, his quads cut in perfect symmetry, veins pushing to the surface from the tear-drop on up through his inner thigh, snaking in “v’s” and “y’s” across his bulging muscle.

After 300 reps, Prof. Pearce raised the weight to 3,000lbs and instructed Sean on how to do Shoulder flys. It was Sean’s first real workout, but it wasn’t much of one if that’s what it was supposed to be, and after a whole hour of Prof. Pearce gradually raising the weight and changing the exercises, he allowed Sean to rest.

Sean didn’t need it, and Prof. Pearce seem to know it. He smiled in admiration, and turned to Sean’s father.

“He’s got your talent, Max,” Prof. Pearce said.

“I knew he would,” Sean’s father said.

“Talent?” asked Sean.

“You don’t get tired, and your power continues to rise during stress,” Prof. Pearce said. “That’s a rare talent among our people.”

“I still don’t even know what you mean by that,” said Sean.

“The Hanazin people, Sean,” Max, Sean’s father said. “That’s what our family is—has always been, with the exception of your mother. Me, you, and your brother.”

“Me too!”

The three of them turned towards the stairs. Sean’s five-year-old brother Kenneth stood there, cake all over his face.

“Not for another few years,” Max said.

Kenneth ran out in front of Sean, gawking and clearly amazed. “Whoa,” he said, placing both hands around Sean’s right forearm. Sean curled him up like the metal orbs before, Kenneth laughing.

Sean put him down and Ken limboed under his still erect, and throbbing cock.

“Stop that!” Max said, running over and picking up Ken by his shirt. “Let’s go clean the cake off of your face.”

Sean and Prof. Pearce were left laughing.

“Do you mind if I—”

“Not at all,” Prof. Pearce said.

With that, Sean disappeared into the ground floor bathroom. The mirror reflection was very pleasing, and made Sean that much more excited to jack-off. He wanted to flex his pumped body for a good few moments, curling in mock fashion, watching his biceps swell once more. He jiggled his pecs, which made him smile because he always wanted to do that, his chest massive enough to hear it, veins covering the surface towards his collar. He saw the V-Shape taper of his back, and he turned around to see the reflection in the mirror. He did a double-bicep pose, pushing his shoulder blades together, and pulling them apart just to watch the lean muscle move about—He couldn’t help it anymore.

He grabbed his cock and stroked it like a madman. The ecstasy he felt was like no other. He watched himself in the mirror, his strong, manly hands moving up and down his already lubricated shaft. The veins in his cock and balls bulged and constricted as if alive. The reflection of his face went from a smile to a fierce grin as he felt the ecstasy rise. He felt his muscles growing, his chest swelling and becoming more striated, his arms becoming more ripped, defined, and corded, his dark skin seeming to become thinner as the rest of his body grew. A strange power surged through him, the walls rattling behind him.

“Yes,” Sean said. “YES!” he screamed, a vase shattering, the mirror cracking—and Sean climaxed, blasting so much cum on the walls that it back-splashed onto his lean, sinewy body. He came for a good 30 seconds, shooting load after load onto the bathroom walls.

Sean faced the cracked mirror, his massive chest rising and falling in heaving breaths, every muscle a good three inches thicker, his cum covered torso a true image of a powerful man. Oh Fuck yeah! Sean thought. If I get to do this for tests at this new school, it doesn't seem so bad... •

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“Sounds like you had fun,” Prof. Pierce said when Sean returned.

Sean had taken a quick shower and stood with his towel around his waist. “Was it that noisy?”

“You shook the foundation,” Prof. Pierce said with a chuckle. “If we didn’t hear it, we certainly felt it.”

“Sorry,” Sean said.

“Nothing to be ashamed about,” Prof. Pierce said. “It’s one of the reasons I asked you to take off your clothes. Your shorts would’ve ripped right off. In fact, you’ll spend your first three weeks in school completely nude during your Strength and Muscle Training classes. The newly transformed always have trouble controlling that—but don’t get me wrong. It’s completely natural.”

“You sound like my health teacher at my school.”

Sean’s father, Max, entered the room. “So what’d you break?”

“Break? Um…The vase…and I kinda cracked the mirror,” said Sean.

“That’s it?” Max asked. “Jeez, my first time I took out my parents wall.”

“So did I,” Prof. Pierce said, he and Max laughing in good spirits. He looked over to Sean. “Are you ready for your next test?”

Sean nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be—apart from clothing, that is.”

Prof. Pierce extended his arm out to the side and the shorts that Sean had removed earlier flew into his hands. “Here,” he said.

Sean took the shorts, dropped the towel, his flaccid 8-inch cock exposed once again, and put them back on, tightening the drawstring like before. He watched the muscles of his six-pack abdomen tighten as he tied it off, the sight almost succeeding in making him hard again.

“So,” Sean said, “What’s next?”

“Speed and Flexibility,” Prof. Pierce said. A wooden bo-staff flew from the corner of the room and into his palms like the orbs before. “All you have to do is dodge my attacks with this staff. The trick is to not only move, but bend. That’s why it is also a test of flexibility as much as it is speed. You can also counterattack, if you know how, that is.”

“You’re going to attack me with that?” Sean asked.

“If it hits you, you can trust me, it won’t hurt a bit,” Prof. Pearce said. “Not this staff at least.”

It wasn’t the staff Sean was worried about. As Prof. Pearce gripped the staff, the muscles of his arms flexed and bulged, defined and appearing that much more destructive with the continuous channel of veins that ran from his hands to his biceps. Prof. Pearce’s arms were outlined perfectly, a deep, narrow chasm between his peaked bicep and powerfully formed tricep, his shoulders like two finely sculpted globes, striations even within the already three lean, and ripped sections of his delts.

Sean was so preoccupied with Prof. Pearce’s muscles that he didn’t see the stick coming. Without even thinking, Sean ducked under the stick, Prof. Pearce continuing the attack coming towards his torso. Sean did a backbend, amazed at how flexible he had become. He then did a handstand and pushed up from the ground, his powerful shoulders pressing him up into the air and into a back flip. Sean was too amazed at what had just happened and Prof. Pearce’s stick hit the side of his head. He was right, it didn’t hurt, not one bit, but Sean didn’t want it to happen again.

The stick moved like the wind, a blur in the Professor’s hands, but Sean dodged and bended, cartwheeled and flipped about, and finally saw an open spot. He rammed his fist into Prof. Pearce’s huge, meaty chest and was immediately taken back. It felt like he had just punched a steel wall. Sean stood there shaking his fist to relieve the pain.

“I should’ve told you that that would hurt,” Prof. Pearce said, halting his attack. “But I have to say, Sean, very impressive.”

“I didn’t know I could do that,” Sean said, still feeling a bit astonished. He wasn’t even a bit tired from all the moving about. He kept a normal breath through the whole thing. And he actually did a full backbend. He could never do that! He bent down and put his palms flat on the floor. He then turned to the side and lifted his leg in a high sidekick, a whole 180 degrees from his other. “How the hell…”

“I’m surprised you even countered with that punch,” Prof. Pierce said. “Most first years are too afraid to do anything else but avoid the stick.”

“You suggested it, so I thought I’d try it,” Sean said. “Don’t know if I’ll do it again though.”

Prof. Pierce chuckled. Max applauded his son, slapping him on the bare, ripped muscles of his back, then patted him on his rippled midsection, Sean noticing that the contours of his obliques had become more defined since his check in the bathroom.

“I’ve decided,” Prof. Pierce said.

“Don’t you still have the Mind Test?” Max asked.

“Already did it,” said Prof. Pierce. “During the Speed and Flexibility Test.”

“That’s progressive,” Max said.

Sean wanted to know what he meant by “Mind Test”. Was Prof. Pierce in his head? If he was, Sean had no idea.

Suddenly, Sean felt a surge of power shoot through his entire body. His father must have felt it too, as he let go the second it happened. It felt like an electric current, but one that excited Sean, made him feel powerful. He stuck his arms out to the side, his legs planted firm. Sean felt the need to bellow, like some kind of war cry, and found that he couldn’t help it, and so did, shouting at the top of his lungs. The walls were shaking again, and the far bay window shattered behind the curtains, along with all the light bulbs in the room. Sean knew what was coming next, as he felt the blood rushing through his bulging veins and to his muscles, feeding him more power to grow.

The process overtook him, and he didn’t care anymore about broken things, or anybody around him. As his legs widened, his shorts shredded clear off, his cock first flopping out, but gradually increasing and hardening—eight inches, nine inches, twelve inches, fifteen inches—a whole three inches longer in little less than half an hour, and his girth seemingly had increased its diameter. His abs became leaner and more vascular, the fat melting away beneath, giving his six-pack the chiseled look like no other. His chest ballooned and the center parts became more shredded, like his chest was built from separate horizontal slabs of meat. The veins in his arms pulsed under his golden skin, as veins took the width of arteries, and more of the unseen came to the surface, feeding his ripped arm muscles. The change stopped, but Sean still felt as if his body radiated with power. He looked down at his now massive hands, glaring at them in disbelief of what he felt he could do with them.

“Unbelievable,” Prof. Pierce said. “Another Power Shift in the same day. Now that’s progressive, Max. Must be your genetics at work again.”

“Must be,” Max said, flexing a 23 inch arm into a bicep pose.

“So, Sean, are you ready to find out where I’m going to put you?” Prof. Pierce asked.

“I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Your school House,” Prof. Pierce said. “There are Five altogether: Dragahna, the House of the Dragon, known for their high levels of Natural Energy, Ferunah, the House of the Wolf, known for their high levels of Sensory Perception, Tyserren, the House of the Tiger, known for their Speed and lasting Stamina, Eumorah, the House of the Falcon, known for their high levels of Psychic Energy, and Behlmore, House of the Bull, known for their supreme levels of Strength.” He paused, eyeing Sean. “Now, your father was placed in Eumorah, but it’s my belief that you should find home in Ferunah.”

“The House of the Wolf?”

Prof. Pierce nodded.

“That’s awesome,” Sean said, grinning from ear to ear. “Better than some stupid bird.”

“That stupid bird won the House Cup 7 years in a row,” Max said.

“I’m afraid it’s Behlmore that reigns now,” Prof. Pierce said. “Believe me, Dragahna has tried for years to take the cup in the Tournament, but…” He turned back to Sean. “Anyways, it’s now for Prof. Jacobson to decide what to do with you. He’s your head of house.” Prof. Pierce went over to his bag and pulled out a grey Karate Gi and a black belt, which Sean realized was there only to match the black trim of the uniform. The patchwork on the left breast wasn’t like Professor Pierce’s. Instead, a Howling White Wolf on a black background was there, the top portion a half-length golden line of a circle rose above the Wolf. Under the Wolf was a banner reading: Ferunah.

“That’s your Uniform,” said Prof. Pierce. “You’ll get more once you arrive, though, like I said, your first three weeks will be spent in the nude—for the muscle and strength classes, at least. Your Flying Class, Acrobatics Class, and some others will require a different uniform, which you will also receive upon arrival.” He then reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled from it a silver ring, handing it over to Sean. “This is to be worn at all times, from now until you leave the Halls of our school. It is also your ticket into our dimension—Your father will explain when ready.”

“Do I like have to take a train, or something?” Sean asked. “They do that in this one book…”

“Yah, I’ve read that book,” said Prof. Pierce. “But no. Your ring will do all the work.” Prof. Pierce stuck out his hand. “Good Luck, Sean.”

Sean went to take his hand, but poked the Professor with his massive hard-on. “Sorry,” he said.

Professor Pierce shrugged. “You get used to it,” he said, his ripped deltoids still an utter amazement to Sean. He made a note that he would work to have shoulders just like him. Sean grabbed hold of the Professor’s hand, looking up at the handsome and angular face of his guide, strangely admiring the black stubble on his chin.

“Quite a strong grip you got there,” said Prof. Pierce. “Much stronger since the first time we met. I have a good feeling about you, Sean. I’m kind of disappointed you weren’t right for my House—but it’s the rules, ya know.”

“Thank you for all your help, Mr. Pierce—”

“Professor Pierce, Sean.”

“Sorry,” Sean said. “Still used to my other school. I’m hoping that will change.”

“It will,” said Prof. Pierce. “I can promise you.” •

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Sean had never slept better. He dreamed of flying and running faster than he ever thought possible, his muscles growing at will, things crashing into his giant pecs and crumbling to pieces, and most of all, Professor Pierce.

Sean never thought of himself as gay—in fact, he never thought of it at all. He assumed he liked girls, but never had any interest in romance, dating, and all that other stuff because of his horrible self-image. But all that changed along with his body. Sean began to realize that it wasn’t just a physical change, but a change of many things—Mental, Social, Spiritual. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what all that meant, just that things were simply different.

His dreams of Professor Pierce were filled with events he never thought he’d do, but things he SO wanted to do when his Guide was standing in front of him. How he wished that Professor Pierce would’ve just grabbed his cock when it was right out in front, reaching down with his manly, powerful, hands and stroking his 15 inch shaft with all his might. Sean longed to rub his fingers across the ripped peaks and valleys of Michael’s (that was Professor Pierce’s first name, and that’s what he called him in his dreams) shoulders, and tracing his fingers across the bulging veins of his arms—and all those things were made real to him, at least in his dreams.

In his dreams “Michael” would ram his cock into his mouth, Sean barely able to wrap his lips around its girth. He had never seen Professor Pierce’s package, of course, but he had to assume that it was bigger than his fifteen-incher. Sean would try to swallow every drop of Michael’s cum, all of his blasting loads, the torrents of excess dripping from his chin and onto his hard body, his muscles growing as if it were some powerful nourishment. Professor Pierce would let Sean smash anything he wanted against his steel hard chest, and always it would feebly crumble. Even in his dreams, Sean felt his Guide’s power radiating into him, making him stronger, giving his muscles a new strength—

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Sean?”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Sean, get up.”

Sean blinked the sleep from his eyes, revealing the tent his cock had made before him in his blankets. Sean didn’t know how much of his load he had blown in his sleep, but it was quite substantial from the looks of it. He threw the soaked sheets off of his naked form and got out of bed.

As if the massive cock tent wasn’t enough assurance, Sean would look down at his right hand every morning since Professor Pierce had left to check on the silver ring—just to see if it was still there, and every morning of the three weeks that had passed, he was glad to see it was.

His dad had let him borrow a pair of sweats, seeing as nothing Sean owned would fit him anymore. He put them on, tightening the drawstring against his chiseled six-pack, and went downstairs for breakfast.

His little brother Ken was gulping down his usual favorite, Coco Puffs, and his father sat near him at the table reading the morning paper in his shirt and tie, ready for another day at work—CEO at his own Marketing Firm.

Sean went to the cupboard and grabbed a glass, shattering it to pieces between his fingers. Ken jumped at the noise.

“You have to be careful now, Sean,” Max said, standing from his chair. He crossed over to the cupboard and grabbed a glass for Sean. “Try two-fingers for the time being,” he said with a smile.

Sean went for the fridge door—

“Uh uh,” Max said, stopping his son. “I’ll get that.” He opened the door and got Sean the Orange Juice.

“I’ve figured out how to control my powers enough to open doors, Dad,” said Sean, his pecs jumping up and down as he moved his arms to grab the juice (he still loved that feeling).

“—Regular doors,” Max said. “Bedroom doors, the front door—though it took you a while to get that one right—but refrigerator doors are different…you have to tug on them, and I’m afraid you probably would’ve sent the door clear into the opposite wall.”

Sean shrugged. “Not that you can’t fix it.”

“Still,” Max said. “I’d rather not have to keep doing it, ya know?” He smiled, and patted his son on his muscled traps. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a wad of bills. “Why don’t you grab something to eat? You can stop by the mall and buy some extra clothes as well.” He handed the wad of money to Sean. “That’s $500.”

“$500!”

“I just want to make sure you have enough,” Max said. “You’ll be starting school in a week, and, though people don’t really wear clothes all that much there, I think you’re going to need something every now and then—oh! And don’t worry about sweaters and warm stuff. You don’t need it anymore.”

“Is the weather hot at the Academy or something?”

“No,” Max said. “You just don’t need that stuff anymore—unless you’re going to try to fit into human society during the winters, like myself—anyways, your body will adjust to any and all temperatures naturally. So just buy whatever you want.”

Sean gulped down the rest of his juice and placed the glass on the kitchen counter…just a little to hard—

SMASH!

“Sorry…”

Max sighed, raised his palm, and the two broken glasses fit themselves back together as if they were never broken.

***

Sean got to the mall by running the whole 3 miles. Not once did he break a sweat, and it took him only about seven minutes. Sean was immediately greeted with gawking people. He could almost hear them thinking, most wondering how a young kid had the well-developed muscles of a champion athlete. Sean made a point to wear one of his father’s smaller t-shirts, black with sleeves that stopped at upper-bicep, allowing a view of his pumped arms. Veins surfaced the longer he let his arms hang down, the single and y-shaped cords on his biceps almost throbbing, snaking down the lean muscle to meet the vessels that wrapped and channeled around his forearms and powerful hands.

He passed a couple college girls who whispered in each other’s ears as he walked by. Sean waited for just the right moment to make his pecs jump under his tight shirt, the girls’ giggling turning to squealing and whooping. Sean also made it important to wear his father’s best fitting jeans—the ones that would accentuate his ass the most. He had a good feeling his careful choice of apparel was paying off, catching both men and woman staring at his backside more than once.

He stopped at Abercrombie and Fitch, scoffing at the buff male-model in the entrance mural. He never received any help at A&F before, so he never shopped there, and still nobody approached him—probably too intimidated. Sean grabbed the biggest shirts he could find, a couple smaller ones just for fun, and a good few size 28 shorts (cargo and other). As he passed the underwear, he made sure to grab the low-rise cuts and as many A-Shirt wife-beaters as they had. He then brought them to the counter.

“Can you hold these for me?” Sean asked the sales associate.

The sales-boy didn’t respond for a good two seconds, only able, apparently, to stare in awe at Sean’s chest traced into the tight fabric of his shirt.

“This underwear,” Sean repeated. “Can you hold onto these for me? I want to try this other stuff on.”

“S-sure,” the young man said. “I can do that. Let me get you, um, get you—a um…room—fitting room.”

Sean nodded, aware of what was wrong with the young man, but still finding him strange. He thought of flexing just to make the young man cum right there in front of his female associate, but decided against it.

“Watch the floor, Mary,” the young man said to the girl.

Sean followed the young man passed the fitting rooms.

“Where are we going?” Sean asked.

“To a…um…private fitting room,” said the young man. “I thought you might need help trying those on.”

Sean grinned menacingly, and snuck into the back room with the young man, who locked the door behind them. Sean immediately pulled his shirt off with both arms over his head, making sure to go slowly to allow the young man to mentally take in his body. First, stretching back to accentuate the perfect, chiseled form of his washboard abs, while pulling the shirt up over his face, allowing a good shot of the lean, striated muscle of his pecs. Sean slung the shirt in the boys face, the two of them laughing a bit.

The young man handed him the first shirt—a sleeveless tee with the numbers 69 patched on the front, an A&F patch near the bottom right corner. “Try this one,” he said, shakily handing it to Sean.

Sean put the XL shirt on over his muscled torso, his chest still tightly protruding to the front, almost like it was etched into the fabric, the valley of his pecs visible under the 69. The young man led him to a mirror and Sean stood there amazed and excited by what he saw. He looked like a fitness model at his top form, his tanned skin seeming as if he spent hours at the beach. It went well with the light blond hair that covered his head and body.

“This is perfect,” Sean said.

“I was going to say the same thing,” said the young man. “Would you like help getting it off?”

Sean chuckled. “Sure.”

The young man approached slowly from behind, wrapped his arms around Sean, making sure to push his hard cock up against his ass, making certain to rub Sean’s massive shaft under his shorts as his hand passed to grab the bottom of the shirt, and lifted—more like rubbed—the shirt off of Sean’s body and over his head. “You’re one big boy,” the young man said. “In more ways than one.”

Sean turned around and again made his pecs jump. The young man went silent then, and seemed to have trouble swallowing. Sean would fix that.

“Why don’t you try this one,” the young man said, grabbing a red muscle tee, “—try this one on?”

Sean took the shirt from the young man and put it on over his head. It was a stretch fabric, also an XL, but for some reason it felt too tight. Sean moved his arms about, front and back. It was fine, no ripping. Then he did a flexed chest pose, and the shirt tore from his skin, back to front.

“Holy shit!” the young man said.

“Sorry,” said Sean. “I’ll still pay for it.”

“Yah, you will,” the young man said, approaching Sean once again, this time from the front. “But not with any money.” He placed a shaking palm on Sean’s steel hard chest, running his fingers over the light blond fuzz, into the valley and over the ridged striations. His tongue worked slowly over Sean’s right nipple, licking then turning to sucking. Sean grasped the back of the young man’s brown haired head, guiding him.

Sean pulled him up to be face to face, the young man’s eyes a beautiful sea-green, his cute face like that of Hayden Christensen (Sean’s favorite actor). They kissed, their tongues rolling over each other’s, the young man seeming to want to eat Sean’s chiseled features, rubbing his tongue over Sean’s chin stubble.

Sean tore the young man’s shirt right off, the buttons flying in all directions, hitting the walls and low ceiling of the backroom. Sean was rather impressed to see the young man actually had a nice lean body, almost like his own after the initial transformation. He easily lifted the young man up, cradling him in his brawny, ripped arms by the small of his back. Sean returned the nipple favor, the boy moaning in ecstasy as he worked his tongue over the ellipse.

Sean could feel his cock begging to free itself, the fifteen-incher pushing the fabric to its final limits, shredding his father’s shorts. He put the young man back down. Sean was now completely naked, and the young man wasted no time in grabbing his slick, shiny pole.

The young man fitted his mouth over Sean’s cock, the girth almost threatening to rip the boy’s jaw off, but he managed. He wasn’t going to let the size of his mouth stop him from a dream cock-suck. Sean pushed the back of the young man’s head further up his shaft, the boy gagging a bit, but all the while moving up and down Sean’s cock at a steady pace. After a good 5 minutes of the young man sucking Sean’s massive cock, Sean grasped young man’s skull, held tight, and blasted his entire load in his mouth, the young man gurgling, but swallowing all that he could—excess flowing from the sides of his mouth, down his chin, and plopping in blobs onto the floor. The walls were shaking again, boxes were falling off the shelves, clothes were dumping onto the floor, but Sean’s cock continued spewing his hot cum into the young man.

When the cum stopped, so did the quake, but Sean wasn’t ready to stop. He tore off the young man’s jeans, underwear and all, and pulled him up to his feet. “I’m not done,” he said, shoving his cum covered cock up the young man’s ass.

“HOLY SHIT!” the young man screamed. “OH FUCK! OH JESUS!”

Something took over Sean’s mind. He didn’t know if it was lust, or the sheer excitement that he was in control. He repeatedly rammed his cock into the young man, their skin slapping together, echoing in the room, the sound only muffled by the boy’s moans of ecstasy. The young man didn’t seem to care if anyone in the store heard them, nor did Sean.

He continued his madman like fucking, feeling his face turn to ferocity like his mind. He picked up the young man and slammed him into the adjacent wall, continuing to push his iron rod into the boy. Sean was fucking him so hard that the stone under the young man’s hands began to crack. It only made Sean that much more excited. His rational mind had turned itself off and he didn’t care if he took down the entire building.

“FUCK ME!” the young man shouted.

Sean didn’t need to be told twice. He ramped up the speed, the slapping of his crotch against the young man’s ass almost indistinguishable to count, stone powder falling from the wall, painting the young man’s hands white. And then, the power surge—the one like before.

Sean saw the veins in his forearms bulge as he held onto the boy’s waist. He watched again as the fat seemed to melt under the skin and the muscles of his arms became bigger, his hands growing thicker and meatier. He felt the muscles of his legs grow both in length and width, lifting he and the young man further up off the floor. Sean’s chest looked as if it were reshaping itself, pushing his torso further apart and filling itself with blood, veins, and powerful muscle fiber. The mirror lay close enough so Sean could watch his transformation, though he hadn’t forgot about the young man. He saw that the Serratus muscles became more defined from his chest’s reshaping, the lats of his back widened, and his traps were growing as he watched.

The muscle growth made him extremely horny, and he was ready to cum again, feeling his cock engorged with blood, pushing against the walls of the young man’s tight ass, its girth and length growing along with the rest of his body. The young man was left only to his whispers, but shortly after he came, he surprisingly went back to screaming ecstasy (YES! OH FUCK!)—the room began shaking again, the stone powder falling from the building’s foundation, the fluorescents popping, making the room dark, the last bits of Sean’s transformation taking place, etching out the muscles of his abs, more veins forced to the surface at the lower parts, when Sean began the same bellow like before. He felt his ball-sack swell, pumping and ready. The power, the fucking POWER!

Sean blasted the young man’s ass with every last bit of cum he had, the overloaded parts rejecting the hot fluid onto Sean’s ripped quads. The shaking slowly went to a rumble, then died away, Sean’s rational mind returning.

The room was dark from all the lights exploding, though Sean could still see just fine. He pulled his cock out from the young man’s ass with a slimy sound. The young man lay still, and Sean checked his pulse. He was still alive, breathing and all, he’d just passed out.

Sean grabbed up his clothes—the one’s not covered in cum—and put the 69 shirt on with one of the pairs of shorts. It was hard to stuff his still erect, though retreating, cock into a pair of boxerbriefs he’d grabbed off one of the shelves. Sean slowly opened the door.

Everything was black, and the voice of the girl could be heard saying, “Is everybody okay? We just had a small earthquake, everything will be up and running in a few moments.”

Sean cursed himself, and returned to the back room. He grabbed up all the clothes he wanted to buy and an empty bag. He crushed all the alarm sensors in his hands, and left $200 dollars on the floor. He thought it would be enough to at least cover the cost of the clothes. •

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When Sean returned home he had spent all but $10 dollars of his money. He was careful not to let himself get carried away again. He had stopped off at DICK’S Sporting Store to buy a good collection of Speedos, Gym Shorts, Muscle Tees, and Tank-Tops. He had to resist trying out the equipment to keep himself from getting excited again.

It was 4:30 PM when he came through the front door with his several shopping bags. His dad waited for him near the television, the news playing footage from the mall.

“Centralized Tremor near the Gardens Mall,” his father repeated. He stood up and turned around to face his son. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Not a thing,” Sean said.

Max chuckled and shook his head. He began going through Sean’s bags, looking at all the things he had bought. “You have some nice stuff here.”

Sean immediately reached into one of the A&F bags and pulled out a pair of shorts. “These are for you,” he said. “I kinda busted your other ones.”

“Busted?”

“Yah,” Sean said. “Busted…”

“Not in public?”

Sean shook his head. “Thankfully, no.”

“You have grown a bit since this morning,” Max said, “—well, more than a bit—Jesus Christ you’re gettin big!” Sean had thrown off the 69 Shirt he had been wearing and stood before Max, his new, bigger, leaner muscles on display. “You’re going to be one of the bigger first years.”

“So, this school,” said Sean, “is it all boys?”

“100%,” Max said, still looking through Sean’s bags. “Looks like you spent all the money on clothes. Did you eat?”

Sean smacked his forehead. “I forgot.”

“Come on, Sean,” Max said. “That’s the best part. Eat whatever you want, whenever you want.”

Sean picked up the bags, Max helping him with the ones he couldn’t carry.

“I just haven’t been very hungry,” Sean said, the two of them making their way up the stairs.

When Sean pushed his bedroom door open, he saw that there was a gift laying on his desk.

“I got you something,” Max said.

Sean put the bags down and walked over to his bed. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

Sean tore the gold paper off the box and removed the lid. Inside were four large metal rings—bracelets from what it appeared.

“Those were mine when I was in school,” Max said. “I thought I’d let you have them. The new ones they have aren’t as fine-tuned as these. These are much better. They’ll get you better results.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Sean said.

***

The remaining weeks before Sean started at the Academy passed rather uneventful. Sean actually took it easy, enjoying his new body. He had played Basketball with a group of college guys and schooled them all, dunking and effortlessly making three pointers, even though he’d never played before. He had jumped off high dives at the public pool in showy displays of flips and twists, and even had started surfing. He actually thought he might miss it all, though he was very excited to be starting school.

Sean’s father had led him to an empty field at the edge of a marshy woods area. They were waiting for another student, the student’s father having called Max and asked if he could help his son find his way to school.

Sean had chosen to wear a sleeveless magenta shirt and brown cargo shorts. He wore the “not socks” with his most expensive trainers. He especially made sure to work on his calve muscles, using the bumper of his dad’s Mercedes in the garage as weight. The results had paid double, as that’s how much bigger his calves had gotten. The two muscles of his calves had become discrete like twin finely cut diamonds covered in fine steel wires. His legs resembled his dad’s from the front view, the same thick vein running down from the front of his right calf and to his ankle. Their appearance gave Sean the feeling that he could kick out a car’s transmission. He actually thought of trying it out, but never got around to it.

After a good five minutes, a young man with a large backpack approached. His brown hair was buzzed short, his skin substantially lighter, not the tanned golden color of Sean’s. Sean ran his eyes over his body as he approached, the boy’s chest stretching the fabric of his red polo shirt, his vascular arms exposed like his well-muscled legs. Like his father had said, the boy wasn’t as big as Sean was, but still breathtaking nonetheless.

The young man stopped in front of them, smiled, and stuck out his hand. “Jason,” he said.

Sean took his hand and shook it. “Sean. Nice to meet you.”

“Dude, I have to say,” Jason said. “You’re freakin’ huge!”

“Not so bad yourself,” said Sean with a smile. He noticed Jason’s deep blue eyes, his handsome face perfectly formed like the young Czech Models he had recently seen on the internet.

“You sure you’re a first year?” Jason asked.

Sean nodded.

“What house did they put you in?” asked Jason.

“Ferunah,” Sean said. “You?”

“Same, unfortunately…”

“What d’you mean?”

“My dad’s the Head of House,” Jason said.

“You boys ready?” Max asked, interrupting the conversation. The two young men nodded. “Hold out the hand with your ring on it.” The two boys obeyed and Max followed suit. “This is Maximus Archer, with son Sean Archer and son of Professor Jacobson, Jason Jacobson. We request passage.”

Their three rings glowed and a small black hole appeared in front of them. For a moment it did nothing, but then it shot out both vertical and horizontal, big enough for the three of them.

“Let’s go,” Max said.

“Into that?” Sean asked.

Max stepped in and was engulfed into the blackness.

“You first,” Jason said.

Sean stepped in. He felt as if a cold fluid enclosed around him and the next moment he was funneled through some type of warp. There was no wind, no noise, nothing but purple and black. And then it stopped.

Sean found himself in an open field similar to the one they had just left, Jason standing next to him.

“Will you look at that,” Jason said. Sean turned to see what he was staring at. Before them was the gate entrance to a grand manor like mansion. A good number of smaller manor homes surrounded the main. But it wasn’t the buildings the two of them were gawking at.

Young, unbelievably muscled teens ran along the inner grounds. Some were indeed naked, like Sean’s father had said, their cocks profusely larger than any Sean had ever seen, though still in good proportion to their bodies, while others wore only the pants of their Karate Gis, exposing their ripped muscled torsos glistening in the bright sun. Their pants were colored ranging from Green, Blue, Red, Grey, and Orange. The professors—or who Sean assumed to be professors—wore their entire uniforms, all black, and Sean spotted some with muscles twice as large as Professor Pierce’s. One of them had a shaved head, dark brown skin, and a body that looked like he had been turned inside out, as there were so many thick, bulging veins perusing along his body.

“This is it,” Max said. “I leave you guys here.”

“You’re not coming inside?” Sean asked.

“Nope,” said Max. “Give me hug.”

Sean wrapped his arms around his father, having trouble getting passed his lats, when he was picked up off his feet into a big bear hug.

“Arrgh, Dad, you’re crushing me!” Sean said.

His father released him. “I’m not going to see you ‘til Christmas.” He ruffled his son’s hair. “Take care of yourself.” He went over to Jason and shook his hand. “You too.”

“Thanks, Mr. Archer,” Jason said.

Sean and Jason entered through the gate and onto the school grounds.

***

Sean was indeed the biggest first year in more ways than one. He had seen what everybody was packing when they were instructed to strip naked in the courtyard and change into their Uniforms. Everyone's cocks had hardened at seeing each other's naked bodies. Most were only 10 inchers at most, maybe 12, but certainly not Sean's 15. Nobody laughed at them, and strangely, not one of the first years were embarrassed to do so. It was probably the reason all of them were asked to strip in front of their guides at the very beginning. Sean had indeed gotten used to being naked, and was actually beginning to prefer it. His Gi was feeling a bit tight, and he couldn’t wait to rip it off his body, his lats struggling to settle within.

There were a hundred first years altogether, 20 for each house—twenty Tyserrens in Orange, twenty Dragahnas in Green, twenty Behlmores in Red, twenty Ferunahs in Grey, and twenty Eumorahs in Blue, all talking about different things: blowing out their parents walls, blasting out T.V. tubes, Jason told Sean his story about how he ruined all the pipes in the house just by thinking about it, while Sean kept all his stories to himself, though confiding in Jason the initial events of his birthday.

Near the back, a group of boys were flexing their muscles, rubbing and touching each other’s bodies in admiration, tracing their fingers across the veins in their arms. Sean had to look away for the time being. He didn’t want to rip out of his only pair of uniform pants. Two Behlmores were already makin’ out, their tongues lost in each other’s faces.

But most shocking of all, where Jason’s eyes were glued, two hugely muscular students were in the middle of the courtyard, the bigger one ramming his dripping cock into the smaller one’s ass, bellowing at the top of his lungs, all his muscles growing as he shot his cum into his partner. Nobody who passed seemed to care, one boy even slapping the big one on the ass and rooting him on, saying, "Yah, Rob, that's the way to do it, Fuck 'em good!" There were three students levitating above the courtyard passing out flyers, gliding to and fro when need be, and a bunch were lying on the grass arm wresting, matches often ending with a blast of earth when losers hands were slammed into the ground. A small group near the far back wall across from them were punching and kicking in a dance type formation, perfectly in sync with each other, their hands and feet moving between motions in unbelievably fast blurs.

A man in a black Karate Gi approached the group. His right pant leg had a Tiger design embroidered into it. The group immediately became silent. It wasn’t the man’s size that did it, certainly not, as the man didn’t have muscles like the other professors. In fact, he was quite younger in the face, his hair short and parted down the middle, and his body resembled more of a male model or swimming champion rather than a world class body builder. Still he radiated power, a power only visible in the ripped vascular muscles of his arms.

“Welcome, First Years,” he said in a surprisingly low voice. “I’m Professor Richardson, Head of Tyserren House. I’m here to guide you through the orientation process. Now I expect you all to be on your best behavior. It’s not easy to show a hundred new students around the school. Those of you who find it in yourselves to misbehave will discover that punishments here at the Hanazin Academy are EXTREMELY unpleasant.” He raised his right palm and the ground in front of him gathered together to form a large stone pillar. Prof. Richardson raised his finger to make sure everyone was paying attention. He made a fist, and rammed it through the pillar so fast that the hole he made stayed for a good five seconds before the rest of the pillar turned to dust.

If the first years were quiet before, they were DEAD quiet now.

Professor Richardson smiled. “Shall we continue?” •

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“So, people screw each other in the wide open?”

“All the time, from what my dad says. He told me it’s part of the normal behavior and development of Hanazin men.”

Sean and Jason sat on the beds of their dorm room, discussing the events that took place before and after the orientation. It happened to be a rather long event, starting with a quick tour of the classrooms and corridors of the main manor house and concluding with all the students standing in a line for their extra Karate Gis, books, training bands, and all the rest of their school supplies. Not one person had misbehaved, as anyone would’ve been quite crazy to do so after Prof. Richardson’s display.

Sean and Jason had decided to room together. The night had come early in the new dimension and they had just finished putting all their stuff away in their proper places. Sean wore one of the new red Speedos he had bought back home, while Jason settled in just his boxerbriefs.

Sean’s eyes roamed over Jason’s slender, but muscled form, his skin like smooth ivory. He didn’t even try to hide his gaze from his roommate, as Jason kept it no secret that he was doing much the same.

“So, your father never told you anything?” Jason asked, rubbing his fingers over his meaty chest and across his chiseled eight-pack, his index finger circling the hair under his navel.

“What? —No,” Sean said. “Nothing…” He stretched back, raising his ripped arms over his head, his six-pack accentuated nicely in the Speedo. He sighed, his flawless, striated chest rising and falling with the inhales and exhales. “I thought something was funny about my dad, though. It was like he didn’t even have to try in life, ya know? Like he could have whatever he wanted. Money, Muscles…”

“It’s why a lot of Hanazins live in our dimension,” said Jason.

“But why were you there?”

“Me and my brother live with our Uncle,” Jason said.

“Did he go to school here?” Sean asked.

“No. He’s not even one of us—just a normal human—my dad’s half brother,” Jason said. “It’s a shame. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” He flexed his bicep, the peak made higher by thick veins pumping to the surface in vertical and horizontal directions, shapely like a huge, hard lemon. The separation from his tricep was incredible, the valley a clear border between the two muscles, the bulging vessels peaceful roads between the two.

Sean felt his cock pulsing beneath his Speedo. If he allowed it to continue, even the stretchy fabric wouldn’t be enough hold. He decided against allowing his mind to entertain doing anything with Jason. It seemed too soon. “Yah, a shame,” he said.

***

Their first class of the morning was Strength and Muscle Training with Professor Benson. He was one of the larger professors, built thick like a Champion Weightlifter, his body covered in beautiful black fur, though unable to hide the sheer definition of his muscles. Sean and Jason brought their training bands as instructed, Sean bringing the ones his father had given him, the ones he had claimed were better.

Professor Benson didn’t wear the top portion of his Karate Gi and when he paced through the large classroom, there wasn’t one of the 20 students (10 Ferunah in Grey, and 10 Behlmores in Red) who weren’t staring at the ripped, powerful muscles of his back. His lats alone were enough to demand respect, and as his arms swung to his sides, the striations, from his traps to the erector muscles of his lower back flexed and faded with each step.

Professor Benson stopped when he reached front and center. He placed his hands on his hips, his thick, slab-like pecs twitching, and gave the class a stern glare. "Hopefully you have all gotten over the immature behaviors that plague your age group, but for those of you who haven’t, pray you don’t make me angry.” He paused. “Your Karate Gis…remove them, and remain quiet.”

The class obeyed, taking off their top-coats first, exposing their muscled torsos—some ripped and slender like world class runners, others like junior bodybuilders—and then pulled off their pants, their thick, hard, dripping cocks finally free of their prisons.

“—And don’t think for a minute that I can’t tell what house you hail from. I know EVERYTHING about you: your house, your strengths, and your weaknesses,” Prof. Benson said.

Sean looked over to Jason who stood right next to him, his cock pulsing, veins pumping blood from his abdomen and scrotum. But Jason’s face was stern and serious.

“Put your training bands on,” said Prof. Benson.

Again the class obeyed. Sean had to look over at the other students to see what exactly to do, placing two of the metal bands on his wrists and the other two on his ankles. They seemed to tighten the second it made contact with his skin.

“First exercise,” Prof. Benson announced, his booming voice echoing in the room. He raised his palm and all the bracelets on the student’s wrists glowed blue.

Immediately everyone fell to their knees. Sean felt as if he’d just been pulled down by an unbelievable force.

“That’s Two Full Tons,” Professor Benson said. “Close to 5,000lbs. Now stand to your feet, and curl up with your arms.”

For the first time Sean felt his muscles actually having to work. He wondered why the floor beneath them wasn’t giving way. He got his right foot under him, then his left a little behind that one, his quads blasting forth every muscle fiber, the teardrop shaped portions becoming more vascular, feeding his legs with the power to stand. Sean was in the middle of the class, watching the students in front of him, their striated glutes, lean harmstrings, and diamond cut calves working to stand. There was no mistaking anyone who wasn’t glad to be naked, their throbbing cocks still on display before them, twitching with every powerful beat of their hearts.

When everyone got to their feet, Sean noticed that some of his Ferunah colleagues were shaking, but none of the Behlmores were. They stood quite sturdy like Sean himself. He remembered that they were the house known for their Supreme levels of Strength. He looked to Jason, who seemed, like he, unbothered.

“Now, bicep curls!” Professor Benson said, his voice thundering about the walls.

Sean curled both his arms up, the bracelets a substantial factor, the muscles of his forearms bulging and twitching, veins swelling. Sean again looked over at Jason, his arms corded like his own, the “Y” shaped veins pulsing in his biceps. He was moving a bit slower than Sean, but keeping up much the same. Sean had already pumped out 30 reps in the first 10 seconds, higher than even the Behlmores next to him.

Sean looked over at the Behlmore standing to his left. His body was one of those Sean thought looked like a world-class runner’s; lean, ripped muscle defying his skin, light tufts of brown hair growing in the valley of his thick striated chest, and more descending below the navel of his eight-pack abs to the bush of his crotch. The Behlmore boy turned his head, and seeing Sean staring, smiled mischievously.

Sean, rather unaware of his leering eyes, averted them as quickly as he could, concentrating again on his curls.

In the next sessions, Professor Benson had brought them through a total body exercise routine, raising the weight to unknown levels. Sean found the full-body crunches the hardest to do, because they had to pull their arms over their heads and back again. Once they were done, his abs felt like they had no choice but to grow, and watched as his and other student’s stomachs etched themselves into leaner, more defined six-packs, eight-packs, and some rare ten-packs. All around, the student’s cocks were throbbing and dripping, ready to blow. Sean swore that his steel rod would explode if anyone was to even tap it. New muscle was forming by the second in all the students; leaner, meatier, their bodies filling out by a couple inches as their lats expanded. Their arms were left bulging, thick, and corded, the veins in their legs, pulsing and feeding the muscle to grow. Students grew taller, wider, and radiated power.

“That’s all for today,” Prof. Benson said. “Be ready for tomorrow. I can assure you today will look like child’s play in comparison.”

Everyone picked up their uniforms, but nobody put them back on, unable to stuff their massive, ready to blow packages into their pants.

“I’ll see you later,” Jason said to Sean as they exited the classroom. “I gotta have tea with my dad.”

Sean nodded, and Jason waved and left down the hall. Sean was bumped from behind.

“Oh, sorry about that.”

It was the Behlmore boy from earlier.

“It’s fine,” Sean said.

“You’re tellin’ me,” he said, that mischievous smile returning. He placed an arm on Sean’s massive shoulder, running his hand over the striated sections of his vascular delts. The energy that flowed through Sean at his touch was unbearable, but he wasn’t ready to follow the examples of those in the courtyard, even though he felt the Behlmore boy was. They would find themselves in good company though, as next to them a group of upperclassmen were busy stuffing their meaty cocks in each other’s mouths. Two were actually levitating in the air, a colossal black haired boy pumping his cock into the ass of an equally sized and unbelievably beautiful blond, their moans of ecstasy seeming to go unnoticed by everyone except Sean.

Sean did notice that the building rattled every now and then, small tremors at most, but still noticeable—and now he knew why, as the bodies of all those in the hall began their routine muscular growth, cum raining down the walls. You could feel the power in the air, the same Sean knew to be responsible for all the blown light bulbs, broken glass, and trembling foundations. It was probably why the school used only torchlight and forbade electronics.

“What’s wrong,” the Behlmore boy asked. “You shy, or something?” He drew close to Sean’s neck, his nose taking in the scent of his manly sweat. Sean could smell the Behlmore boy too, sweet, yet bitter, and for some reason, very pleasing. Professors passed in the hall, simply trying to get by, but none caring any more than the students, even when the backsplash of the airborne dripped onto their uniforms.

“I’m Sean, by the way.”

“Kyle,” the Behlmore said, his face still next to Sean’s, and slowly moving a hand to his bare ass. He sqeezed Sean’s ass, and Sean felt that surge.

Sean swallowed. “My roommate’s out, if you want—”

The Behlmore boy, Kyle, quickly gathered his things, and grabbed Sean by the wrists, starting down the hall and towards the dorms. Sean had to lead the way to the Ferunah Wing, the two of them passing under the Wolf-shaped Archway.

Sean placed his hand against the sensor lock, and the two of them went inside his dorm room.

Kyle pushed Sean against the wall, his cock visibly throbbing. He wrapped his lips around Sean’s cock, pushing his massive pole as far as his mouth would allow. He gagged a bit, but didn’t care and continued sucking and moving his hand rapidly over his dripping shaft. Sean felt an ecstasy that almost immobilized him. Kyle’s tongue worked around his tip like he’d been practicing for years, his shoulder’s widening as he worked, turning Sean on that much more.

Kyle retreated and moved up Sean’s body with his magic tongue, first starting at his navel then to the nipples of his pulsing chest. It was again reshaping itself after the class workout, Kyle rubbing a hand against him, cupping the expanding muscle.

They circled around each other, kissing, trying to eat each other’s faces, moving towards Sean’s bed. Kyle pushed Sean onto the sheets, pushed his legs above his head, and rammed his thick, pulsating cock into his ass. Sean didn’t care that he wasn’t in charge, the pleasure too good to think. Kyle smacked his crotch against Sean’s ass mercilessly, grunting louder with each pump of his now expanding tool. Sean could feel it pushing against the walls of his ass. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. It was too much, too good.

The room quaked and Sean blasted his load over his head and onto the wall behind him. Cum rained on them, his cock refusing to give up. Even when he stopped spraying his hot liquid, he could feel his dick preparing for the next round.

Kyle’s energy continued the quake, his grunting turning to a bellow. Sean watched Kyle’s abs tighten, the veins in his lower parts thickening, growing, and climbing up to his middle passed the navel.

The room shook so much that Sean and Jason’s things began falling off their shelves, nothing fragile, but all heavy. Kyle blew his load into Sean, the impact so powerful that Kyle had to hold tight to Sean’s legs. Sean wondered how so much could come from one so much smaller than he.

Kyle fell over onto Sean, and Sean could feel their bodies changing against each other, the muscles expanding, becoming leaner, dueling for space. Sean rubbed Kyle’s ass and back, his hand moving to his pulsing traps, feeling the bumps of hard, powerful muscle. •

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“What happened here?”

Sean was busy cleaning up the mess he and Kyle had made during their rather fun time together. Jason raised his palm and the leftover cum disappeared from the walls, floor, and Sean’s bed.

“Whoa!” Sean said. “What’d you do?”

“It’s a trick my dad showed me,” Jason said. “What? How do you think they keep the school clean with peoples cocks blasting loads by the second?”

“I was wondering how my dad cleaned it up so fast back home,” Sean said. “I used to feel guilty about it.”

“So who was here?” Jason asked.

“His name was Kyle,” said Sean, “the one standing next to me in class—the Behlmore.”

“Kyle Sparks?”

“You know him?” asked Sean.

“You could say that,” Jason said. He sighed. “Just so you know, in this dimension, sex is just that…Sex.”

“Yah, I pretty much got that,” Sean said. He saw Jason was staring at him. “What?”

“Do you want to work out with me before next class?” Jason asked.

“You know how to make the bands work?”

“No,” said Jason. “There’s a gym downstairs with modified weights.”

“Modified weights?”

***

“Push it, Sean! Come on, push!”

Sean finished his last benchpress with the 5-Ton bar, his pecs bulging, the veins by his collar pulsing, thickening, and crawling to his nipples in upside down ‘Y’s and ‘V’s as the muscle expanded. Jason was his spotter, his throbbing cock bouncing before Sean’s eyes in sync with his heartbeat. Sean also had his dick out, unable to contain it in his now ruined gym shorts, the remains frustratingly thrown in the trash. In fact, not one person was clothed in the entire gym, not even the upperclassman, which Jason explained that although they had gained control for their class lessons, they often liked to let loose in the gym. Sean couldn’t imagine being able to control his monster cock, watching it harden and grow as he stood from the bench. In the short while he had been at the Academy, he had learned to accept the strange, highly sexual culture.

Oftentimes, students would stop in between sets just to suck each other off, the weights and bars rattling along with the room every time somebody was ready to blast their load. Sean was due for a good blow, but still didn’t feel comfortable doing it with his roommate.

He was luckily saved by an eighth year student who had crept up from behind. Sean lost his breath when he turned around to look at who was rubbing his ass.

“You need help with that?” the gorgeous eighth year said, his beautiful green eyes looking down at Sean’s thick, dripping cock.

Sean found it hard to speak as he glared at the young man before him. “Um, I—um, sure, I could…” His brain had turned off, the young man’s model-like body overloading his comprehension skills—pecs like the Statue of David, hard and smooth as marble, his eight pack complemented well by his lean v-muscle at his waist, and a cock like no one would ever believe pushing out from his brown bush. The monster dick dwarfed Sean’s by its length and girth. It sat there bobbing up and down, pre-cum flowing from its tip, veins bulging and retreating through his engorged balls and ripped upper thighs as the blood flowed through his massive pole.

“How ‘bout you?” the eighth year said to Jason. “I can do you both if you want.”

Jason, like Sean, was speechless and could only manage a nod. As he walked over to the young man, a loud banging started in the far corner of the gym. The three of them looked over to find Professor Richardson, the same from the orientation, punching a steel wall, his fists moving in single strikes at first, but then turning to rapid pummeling, the banging sounding like a drive-by shooting, the steel weak under Professor Richardson’s hands, denting and bending under the pressure. Professor Richardson wore only a Black Speedo, his package, disappointing to all the observers, well contained and controlled within.

The eighth year was now the one having trouble breathing. Professor Richardson wore the weight training bands on his wrists. There was no telling how many tons he was bearing, as he pummeled the wall, his quads appearing deadly as they held his stance, the kind of legs that would seem to shake the earth with each step. Thick veins climbed from his bare feet, up his ankles, and through his calves, pulsing and throbbing like the boys’ cocks.

With one final strike, Professor Richardson punched right through the metal wall. When he was done, it seemed the training tool would never recover, but Professor Richardson, like so many responsible Hanazins, repaired it with the wave of a hand, the metal unbending itself, flexing and self-mending where the hole was.

Professor Richardson glared at his palms, opening and closing them, watching the vascular, ripped muscles of his arms grow beneath the skin. His chest pulsed like the beat of one’s heart, each seeming to supply more muscle fiber to his already perfectly striated pecs. He left the gym almost as quietly as he had come in, not saying a word to anyone, his muscles still growing as he made his exit.

Everyone in the room grabbed a partner, needing to rid themselves of the excitement they had pent up from Professor Richardson’s unbelievable presentation.

The Eighth year immediately grabbed Sean by his ass and tossed him into the adjacent wall. It reminded Sean of the event with Kyle, except Sean was being held in the air by some unknown force. The young man flew up to meet him, his enormous cock already dropping dollops of cum, landing on the floor in loud plops. He stuffed his mighty piece into Sean, Sean brought down only to strained guttural sounds as he felt his ass squeeze the iron pole of the eighth year.

It was strange having no ground beneath him, but the young man made him forget anything else but the strong thrusting of his cock. Sean could feel the young man’s chest thickening as he pressed his torso against his back, his arms pulsing and growing as he grasped Sean’s midsection, turning to a more upward thrusting, his lower abs rock hard as they slammed into Sean’s backside.

“Oh, Fuck me,” Sean managed.

“You like that?” the young man asked. “I might need a little help with your friend. Wha’d’you say?”

Sean threw out his trepidation about doing anything with Jason. The young man asked for his assistance, and Sean, at this point in time, would do anything he told him to do.

The walls and metal weights rattled from all the others in the room, cum blasting in torrents, muscles growing all around them, lats becoming broad canvases of striated meat, quads becoming thundering, ripped, perfectly sculpted, vascular pillars. Some actually radiated so much power that a blue aura glowed from their bodies, and gym equipment slowly slid away from them like they were being pushed by that invisible energy.

This seemed to turn the young man on even more, for his thrusting changed to hard-core ass beating, the skin of his crotch spanking Sean’s muscular glutes. Sean had to put a hand on the ceiling to counteract the force of the young man’s fuck power. Jason was having trouble waiting around, and went to doing military presses with the modified weights, pumping up his shoulders for his round of fun, his cock sputtering cum with each rep, his ball sack rising and falling as if it were breathing.

Then the shaking started, the metal clanging of the weights and bars ringing in their ears. Sean could feel the young man’s dick pulsating inside of him, and his midsection almost crushed under his unyielding grip, as the young man detonated inside him. Hot cum fell in torrents from Sean’s ass, the young man’s bellowing booming throughout the room, causing more things to shake—the five windows near the back finally giving out, shattering one after the other, left to right. The young man glowed that same blue aura like the others, Sean feeling the power passing into him, feeding his muscles. The young man slid his cock out of Sean and grabbed him around the waist. The two of them glided on down to the floor next to Jason, Sean’s muscles widening, his veins pushing to the surface. His forearms actually looked like the skin was no more as so many vessels channeled in and around his inflating muscles, some thick, some wiry, but all crawling up the skin in a rhythm like running water, in patterns of ‘Y’s and complicated ‘V’s and ‘F’s.

Sean grabbed the weights from Jason, easily tossing the 6-Tons away like they were nothing to his new muscles. He picked up Jason by his waist and lowered him onto his now throbbing, engorged, sputtering piece. The young man supported Jason’s weight from under him, already busy sucking his cock, for it long begged for someone to do so.

Jason could only inhale and exhale in shaky patterns, his hands placed on his head like he was relaxing, but his face in utter ecstasy. Sean smelled his thick, corded neck, and the sweet, bitter scent of man gave his body an almost electrical shock. His muscles were still growing, his legs lengthening and pulsating like Jason’s now moving eight-pack.

The others in the gym had gone back to working out, some cleaning up, others not caring, and some still mid transformation, the testosterone wafting in the air like a pungent muscle growth formula. Sean wished the ecstasy could last forever, but his cock felt otherwise, the quake starting up again, combined with Jason’s effect of his now blasting load in the young man’s mouth. The young man held tight to Jason’s swelling hamstrings, and amazingly kept his mouth at work as the girth of Jason’s cock expanded mid orgasm. Sean watched Jason’s traps pulse and tighten, becoming more ripped and defined, his lats lengthening and spreading out. Sean’s hands felt every bit of growth, and the same electric feeling shot through him, the quaking becoming almost major—the others actually stopping to observe as Sean exploded into Jason’s ass, too much cum to be contained in such a tiny space. It sprayed back onto Sean’s crotch, running down his vascular quads, the warmth keeping him going in an almost endless cycle…but then it stopped.

“Holy Shit!” said a voice from one of the others behind them as Sean pulled his dick out of Jason.

The young man stood up from the ground, grabbed the back of Jason’s head, and pulled him in for a ferocious kiss, moving around his lips like a ravenous being.

“I’m Alex by the way,” the young man said when he pulled away, his muscles still reshaping themselves, throbbing rapidly under his skin. “Alex Workman.” He chuckled, his smile a piercing charm. “Let’s do it again some time, huh.” He slapped Sean on the ass as his abs finished their transformation creating a masterpiece of six chiseled squares and two rectangles, cavernous lines etched between them and throbbing veins lining the muscle up and around his fuzzy navel. He lifted his palm and the broken windows repaired themselves.

Sean turned to Jason, the two of them collapsing back on the puddles of cum and sweat, every muscle in their bodies shaking, pulsating, or throbbing under their skin—their pecs filling out together. Sean placed his thick, powerful fingers over Jason’s expanding chest, feeling the striations form near the deep center.

He sighed. “That was quite a workout.” •

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Sean and Jason had to attend two more classes that day. After their workout in the gym, the two of them had gone back downstairs for their “Natural and Psychic Energy Class” where they had to evaporate all the water in a bucket using only their psychic energy. Jason of course had done very well, having already known how to do it, but it took Sean a couple tries. The professor had to replace his bucket at least three times after he had blown it to pieces. The strangest part of the class had been when their mouths were held shut by the professor’s energy, no one allowed to speak or ask questions, unless with their minds.

After, Sean and Jason had their first “Flying Class” with the Tyserrens on the beach that was located down a hill well below the school. Again, Jason had caught on rather quickly, and this time, Sean had been the first to follow. Most of the other students had had trouble even getting their feet off the sand, some having succeeded, only in the next second to be flipped upside-down, their legs and arms flailing to come back down. Controlling the psychic energy around them was key, and Sean had had plenty of practice in the previous class.

Lunch and dinner had been served, and afterwards, the students had returned to their dorms in timely and orderly fashions.

Sean and Jason sat on their beds, both in just their boxers, discussing the eventful day that they had when somebody knocked on their door. Jason crossed the room and opened it. It was Kyle and two more Behlmore Boys, all dressed in normal everyday clothes, though filling them out to almost busting.

The one to Kyle’s left had long blond hair, braided into dreadlocks, the long sleeves of his shirt unable to hide the thick, corded muscle beneath, as the fabric seemed a part of his skin—his chest making the thread count extremely important as his mighty pecs rose and fell with each breath.

The other, on Kyle’s right, was a smaller boy, but muscular just the same. He had done his hair up into a spiky fashion. His blue American Eagle t-shirt moved with the massive meat of his pecs, and the white shell choker around his broad neck seemed ready to snap right off. His biceps looked like separate parts of his arms, bulging from the skin, single veins running across the muscle, pulsing as he stood there, his skin smooth and polished.

Kyle wore a patterned button-up over a white wife-beater, his chest a vascular, striated display over the collar. The rest of him had grown substantially since the last time he was in Sean’s bed.

All of them had the same brown cargo shorts, showing off their ripped, shapely calves, the blond’s covered with a sheen, gold fuzz, and thick veins wrapping around the muscle in a pattern more complicated than Sean’s forearms.

“There’s a party tonight, gentlemen,” Kyle said.

“Party?” Jason said. “I didn’t hear of a party.”

“Not here,” said Kyle. “In the other dimension. It’s a tradition with my old school.” He patted Jason on his muscled chest, and said, “So, get dressed, big boy—you too Sean. We’re leaving in three minutes.”

“We’re not supposed to leave the grounds,” Sean said. “God only knows what’ll happen if we leave the dimension.”

“Besides,” said Jason, “you can’t pass between the two without permission. Unless… You’re not going to—”

“Come on guys,” said Kyle, exasperated. “Don’t be pussies.”

Jason turned to Sean, a look of apprehension on his face.

Kyle scoffed. “Look, we leave in three minutes with or without you. It’s up to you.”

***

Sean decided to go, but Jason refused. He warned Sean that Kyle could get him into trouble, but Sean told him not to worry.

The party was filled with about 100 young privileged teens of the local high school. It was like the parties Sean would always see on t.v.—the ones with the expensive cars making a semi-circle in a wood clearing around a fire, music blaring, and enough booze to hold a convention. Sean had always been a privileged kid, but never had he fit in with this crowd. But tonight was a completely different story.

He had finished off the equivalent of half a keg, but didn’t feel any different—apart from the fact that he was actually drinking beer. Girls flocked to him, grabbing his thick quads, massaging their hands closer and closer to his crotch. Sean had to back away a couple times, though this actually made the girls more excited. One girl behind him was forward enough (or drunk enough) to stick her fingers down Sean’s pants.

“Jesus Christ!” the girl said. “You’re hung like a fucking race horse, aren’t you?”

Sean quickly pulled her hand away, and she settled to rubbing his hard six-pack under his shirt instead, though the look in her eyes told Sean she was a bit affronted.

Kyle’s friends were busy in the woods, having their way with two or three partners at a time. Kyle himself stood near a yellow Tacoma, talking with a beautiful brunette, her body like a runway fashion model.

Sean went back to his little event at the picnic table, the girls now peeling his shirt off and over his head. They started squealing when they saw what was under it, Sean feeling a bit awkward, but not so much to keep him from making his pecs jump. The girls squealed again, all of them placing their hands on his torso, feeling his hard, lean muscle, the girl behind him now rubbing both her hands on his massive traps and shoulders. He was feeling good…REALLY good.

Then he heard it. A girl was screaming. Sean saw Kyle there, his button up removed, his arms flexed and vascular in his wife-beater, pinning a burly kid in a letterman jacket against the door of the yellow truck.

“Stop it!” the brunette screamed. “Put him down!”

The girls at the table were unbuckling Sean’s belt, oblivious to the commotion. Sean pushed the girls’ hands away, buckled his belt, and went to try and calm Kyle down. But he was too late.

A few of the jock’s friends came from behind Kyle, trying to pull him off, but his massive body wouldn’t budge. He shoved the jock into the truck, the window shattering as the door caved in, then turned to face the others, their faces now full of fright.

“Kyle, stop!” Sean said, coming up next to him. “What are you doing?”

“Stay out of this, Sean,” Kyle said. “These guys deserve it.”

“What the fuck happened to you?” one of the jocks asked, his eyes gawking at the bulging veins in Kyle’s pumped, muscular arms.

“You know them?” Sean asked.

Nobody said a word. The jocks slowly backed away from Kyle.

“Let’s go,” one of them said.

“YOU’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!” Kyle yelled. His next movement was a blur as he moved to cut the boys off, who were now in a state of panic. Sean didn’t even know it was possible to move so fast.

Kyle’s muscles were pulsing now and his shirt screamed as his lats pushed through and shredded the fabric.

“Kyle don’t!” Sean said, but the next moment he felt a fist pummel into his stomach. He fell to his knees. It couldn’t have been one of the jocks, because it hurt—REALLY hurt. Sean looked up to find Kyle’s two boys standing there, naked, their 12-inch, dripping cocks hanging out.

“Who the fuck are you freaks?” another of the jocks said.

Sean stood to stop Kyle, but the other two held him back.

“Come on, dude,” the dreadlock blond said. “Don’t you know how to have fun?”

The two of them started laughing. Sean could probably fight one of them off, but the two of them were too much. He tried to move, his body now growing, his veins bulging, feeding his muscles, but Kyle’s boys just grew with him—the stronger he got, the stronger the two of them got, their dicks sputtering, their ball-sacks pumping, from the surges of power. Car windows broke, tires popped and deflated, engine cables burst…

Sean looked around at the other high school students. They just stood there gawking. “GET OUT OF HERE!” he yelled, his cock now pushing against his jeans.

But no one listened, and their cars were ruined. Kyle’s boys just laughed, the smaller one rubbing his fat, slimy cock and blasting his load all over a group of nearby girls, the force knocking them to their feet as the earth shook around the clearing.

Kyle picked up one of the jocks by his chin, tossing him effortlessly 15 feet away and into a tree. The others ran for it as they saw their friend slink to the ground. Kyle moved like the wind, picking up the surrounding SUVs and cars, throwing them aside or sending them tumbling and rolling over and over, people screaming as they got out of the way. The remaining jocks tried to pile into one of the trucks that wasn’t damaged, actually succeeding in starting the engine. They slammed on the gas, but Kyle was there at the front, holding them back, the tires spinning, the air filling with the scent of burning rubber.

“Back up, dude!” one of the jocks inside yelled, but Kyle lifted the truck from the ground, his quads looking like powerful pillars of strength, the ripped muscle covered in pulsing veins growing thicker by the second. He lifted it all the way over his head, his lean, cut delts visibly working to hold the load, growing and adapting.

Kyle was laughing like a madman, his chiseled abs tightening as he did so. “Not so fucking tough now are you, bitches?”

Kyle’s boys laughed along with him, the smaller one with the spiky hair reaching for a nearby girl.

“Where you going, bitch?” he said, holding Sean with one arm and pulling her towards his pulsing body. He pressed his lips against hers, the girl struggling to break free.

“Hey!” The girl’s boyfriend went to punch the spiky haired one, but found his hand in the broad, steel palm of his target, the girl tossed aside into the grass.

“Not too smart, Fuck Face,” the spiky haired one said, crushing the boy’s hands, the bones crackling and crunching under the might of his fingers, laughing and enjoying every bit of pain he caused the young man.

Sean tried to break free, but it was pointless, the boy’s screaming almost deafening in his enhanced, sensitive ears. The spiky haired one grabbed the boy by his shirt and tossed him over-handed a good ten feet into one of the picnic tables, breaking it into pieces.

Kyle spun the truck to be horizontal with his massive arms, grasping both the front and rear axels and pulling them together. The truck buckled, the jocks screaming from the interior, Kyle grunting, his muscles flexing, his biceps now 20 inches, the veins pulsing, growing, moving to his shoulders and spreading to his striated, expanding pecs in conduit-like ‘V’s and ‘F’s.

“WHO’S THE FUCKING PUSSY NOW!” Kyle bellowed, the truck bending and falling to pieces. His cock shredded his shorts and came out 14 inches, sputtering, ready to blow, its girth unbelievably massive. Kyle was radiating so much power that he didn’t even have to move his arms to crush the truck any further, the force crumpling the steel of the vehicle all on its own.

“STOP!” Sean yelled, people finally running away as the ground began to shake once more.

The blond’s cock exploded at the sight of Kyle, adding to the quake, spraying his hot cum clear into the air and across the forest like a white rainstorm. The blond’s muscles pulsed and grew thicker, his grip on Sean tightening like a steel clamp. Sean watched the blond’s pecs balloon and shudder, blood streaming through rapidly surfacing veins to give power to the new muscle fiber.

“You like that, pussy?” the blond asked Sean. “We can go at it later if you want. I could use a good—

Everything and everyone halted, unable to move their mouths or legs. The high schoolers fainted around them, the four Hanazin Teens clearly befuddled as to what was happening.

The huge muscled form of an Academy Professor stepped into the clearing. A pulsing ‘Y’ shaped vein protruded from his temple traveling across a portion of his forehead, and through his black hair. His shoulders were like scallop shaped bowling balls, more striations appearing as he swung his arms in his gait, his pecs jumping in response to the movement of his ripped limbs. His neck was thicker and wider than Sean’s muscled quads, and his huge traps lifted his Gi a whole two and a half inches from his shoulders. If any of the professors spoke true Power, this one SCREAMED it.

He lifted his palm and the clearing returned to normal, the cars turning right-side up, repairing their smashed frames, flat tires, and broken windows. Kyle was lifted by the power from under the truck and put with the other three Hanazin Teens.

“I do believe we are in BIG trouble, boys,” the professor said. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

Sean felt the seal from his lips lifted.

“Professor Jacobson,” Kyle said.

Sean’s eyes widened. He had hoped his meeting with his head of house would have come together in completely different circumstances. •

 

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“Two days, boys,” the Headmaster said, his booming voice echoing off the walls of his office and into their sensitive ears. “TWO DAYS! That’s how long you’ve been here at the academy.”

Sean felt his head pounding as the Headmaster spoke. The four of them were brought back to the academy and immediately into his custody. He towered over them with his magnificent form. It was a shame Sean couldn’t stare. He didn’t want to risk the Headmaster knowing he was distracted, especially if those thoughts consisted of checking out his body.

The Headmaster was an extremely tall man, eight feet and 100% muscle. Sean couldn’t see a single bit of fat on his huge, sinewy body. His lat span was five feet wide, his shoulders the size of basketballs. He could crush them with just two fingers if he wanted.

But most surprisingly of all, the Headmaster, though in power for 300 years, didn’t look a day over 30, his handsome, angular face a breathtaking sight. His muscles, tightened, and grew as his anger rose, new veins forming and crawling up his forearms, through his biceps and shoulders, and settling on his massive chest where they pulsed.

“Get outta my head!” Kyle said, whimpering. “GET OUTTA MY HEAD!”

“SILENCE!” the Headmaster yelled, the walls shaking. Bits crumbled to the ground. “You are not at your old school anymore, Mr. Sparks, and you would be wise to remember that. Your secrets should be the least of your worries, as tomorrow you will report to Professor Richardson for your punishments. And you should hope that the others in your house do not find out who has put their points in the negative, for as bad as I can promise you Professor Richardson’s punishment will be, it will again pale in comparison to the latter.” He paused, breathing deeply. “You may go.”


Sean threw off the remains of his shredded clothes as he made his way back towards his dorm. He stopped, turned back around and headed for the baths, feeling that he was in dire need of a hot shower.

Both sides were completely empty when he arrived. His cock still lay 8 inches flaccid between his legs. Though it had calmed down from the Headmaster’s intimidating reprimand, his body still screamed for something.

He took to the right side, his bare feet smacking against the marble tiles. He twisted the hot water knob and moaned as the first splash of hot water hit his twitching muscles, the sound of the running water his only company. When he realized he had forgotten the soap, he pounded his fist into the wall, the stone cracking around his knuckles.

“FUCK!”

“Bad day?”

Sean drew his fist away from the crumbling crater and turned his head toward the voice. It was somebody he didn’t know, though appeared to be in the same year as he—his smaller frame made a good estimate.

Though he was smaller, his muscles were ripped like those of a champion surfer, his messy blond locks matching that profile. His arms were lean and cut, his biceps long and sculpted, thick single veins running down both his left and right meeting the massive vascular network of his forearms. But it was his impressive midsection that Sean first noticed. It pushed through his tanned skin in a six-pack display that would have put many others to shame with its ripped supporting obliques. Sean’s cock responded quickly. He felt the blood rush through his shaft, pulsing and lengthening with each beat of his heart—twelve inches, fourteen inches, now a surprising 16 inches, the veins throbbing down the thick pole.

“You need soap,” the boy asked, his cock growing as his feet splashed through the showers toward Sean. “Or do you need something else?”

Sean pounced at him, grabbing the boy in the back of the head and pulling him toward his lips.

“I’m Davis,” the boy said.

“I don’t care,” said Sean, the boy quickly silenced. His body was shaking, driving him mad, and his kiss told the story to the young man, Davis. He massaged his lips against Davis’s in a ravenous pattern, then suddenly stopped.

“What?” Davis asked.

“Beg me,” said Sean.

“What?” Davis asked again, sounding a bit affronted.

“Are you deaf!” Sean said. “Beg me you little shit! You wanna suck my cock or not?”

The hot water poured over his body, and Sean knew he looked irresistible. Something raged throughout his body, along with the frustration he felt for not being able to stop Kyle.

“You wanna touch these muscles?” Sean said, spotting Davis’s leering glare. He jiggled his pecs, and ran his hands over them, sliding down his ripped abs and to his throbbing cock. Sean’s hand reached out at lightning speed and grabbed Davis by the hair. He pushed Davis to his knees and rammed his cock into his mouth.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Sean said, the girth of his dick threatening to dislocate the boy’s mouth. Davis gagged a bit when Sean pushed further, his burly hands controlling Davis head up and down his shaft. “Ah yah, ah FUCK YAH!” Sean let Davis go on his own for a bit before throwing him back against the wall. “You want more?”

Davis was left speechless, but was able to offer a nod.

“Then beg me—get on your fuckin’ knees and beg me!”

But Davis was confused, his brain probably not operating properly with Sean’s huge body standing before him, and his massive cock throbbing about in his face.

“You’re fuckin’ useless!” Sean said, thrusting his cock in Davis’s mouth so hard that his head cracked the wall behind him. But Davis didn’t care, his moans sounding like he was having the greatest meal of his life. “Yah, suck it you little shit,” Sean whispered. “Suck it…”

Sean took over and began pumping his crotch hard into Davis’s face, the boy’s head pushing deeper into the wall, the cracks spreading behind it. Sean’s cock was thickening in the boy’s mouth, his muscles twitching and shaking, his veins coming to the surface, pulsing and pumping blood, feeding his transformation.

“Fuck yeah,” Sean said, feeling his arms bulging and reshaping. He grabbed Davis by the hair once again, lifting him to his feet with one hand. He eyed the cuts and striations of Davis’s lean muscle. His eyes traveled down to the boy’s throbbing 12 incher, and his hand shot out to help ease its sputtering pleas.

He gripped the shaft with one hand and lifted Davis, in the same cock grip, and pinned him against the wall. He let Davis’s piece settle into his mouth for a good two seconds. Davis moaned, but his moaning soon turned to gasps as Sean worked his lips around his pulsating tip. With his one hand around the base still supporting Davis’s entire frame, Sean stuffed the thick veiny cock further into his mouth, his tongue moving like it had a mind of its own. It was too much for Davis. The walls began to shake and he exploded into Sean, his hot cum draining down Sean’s throat. Sean swallowed what he could, hoping for more to replace what had escaped down his chin. He felt Davis’s power flowing into him with each new blast, feeding his muscle.

He let Davis drop back to the floor once he had drained into him. Cum flowed down Sean’s growing, pulsating pecs with the shower water. His cock still jumped up and down with his now pounding heartbeat. He felt powerful watching his body grow in unison with Davis’s, their pecs ballooning, their abs tightening, their veins throbbing.

Sean looked down at his hands, the veins in his wrist surfacing back and forth, and spreading through to the bottom of his palms. He looked down at Davis who had begun kissing and licking his feet.

He looked up into Sean’s right calf, tracing the thick pulsating vein that protruded from the muscle. “Please,” he said. “Please, I want more.”

Sean chuckled. “Is that the best you can offer me?”

“PLEASE!” Davis said. “Please, I need more—I want more!” He worked his tongue up Sean’s growing quads, the muscle thickening as Davis worked his lips over the surface. Sean watched Davis’s shoulders widen, his traps shuddering and filling out. The sight made his mind go mad once again.

Davis was on his feet rubbing his hands down Sean’s body, his grip loosening as Sean’s muscles swelled. Davis quickly moved to Sean’s nipples, his tongue circling the area as his hands grabbed at whatever they could.

Sean felt that electrical feeling rush through him and he spun Davis around and shoved his sixteen-inch cock up his bubble ass. He wasted no time, no slow starting pace to help Davis along—only a hard, pounding ass fucking that pushed Davis’s palms into the marble exterior of the shower. His crotch smacked against Davis’s backside, jiggling his ripped glutes, his colossal cock surfacing for only a millisecond before ramming back inside.

He would give no mercy, the little shit was gonna get what he wanted, and still be left wanting more. As the cracks grew around Davis’s hands, so too did Sean’s powerful thrusts. One hard thrust, followed by an even more powerful thrust, Davis’s arms buckling as they tried to counteract the force—and on the next thrust, Sean put Davis through the shower wall, the marble partition crumbling around them, their rock hard bodies oblivious to the falling mass.

Sean marched up to Davis, who had fallen on his knees, picked him up by his waist and again rammed his cock up inside of him. Davis let out a feeble moan as Sean’s cock expanded inside of him, pulsating against the walls of his ass.

“Ohhhhh…Fuuuck……meeeee,” Davis managed.

Sean hammered his backside with a relentless fervor. “You like that? Do you want more?”

Davis didn’t speak.

“I ASKED YOU IF YOU WANT MORE!”

“Yes…” Davis muttered, barely able to speak “Please…please…give me more.”

Sean’s fucking took on a blinding speed, the contact sound of the skin almost one with the next, Davis’s feet slipping from under him, but Sean not giving in. He pounded Davis in whatever position he was in. The quake had begun, but Sean was going to hold on for as long as he could. The walls shook, the floor shook, the pipes gave way, and water blasted from the showerheads all around them. The sight was too much for Sean and he followed suit, detonating his load into Davis. Sean held tight as his cock erupted a torrent into Davis, but soon their slippery skin was too much for Sean to hold on and he blasted Davis across the room, cum surging from his tip like the powerful flow of a fire hose.

He painted Davis white with his hot cum, the rest of it flowing down the drains in loud gurgles. Sean still felt the power flowing through him, his muscles filling out, his neck growing, widening, his spine adjusting to the transformation. Veins pulsed all throughout his mighty form as he made his way up to Davis, who was now slumped down on the other side of the showers, water pouring over his twitching muscles.

Sean bent down and cupped his cheeks with his hand, veins throbbing through his forearms and up to his knuckles. “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

But Davis had passed out.

Sean sighed.

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