brothers Fraternal - P 8 up now

[Ro20316]

Imagine wen he is this big. not even caring everyone ses him going to coach.

AMAZING

[photoguy]

1 minute ago, Ro20316 said:

Imagine wen he is this big. not even caring everyone ses him going to coach.

AMAZING

Definitely an inspiration. Coach might end up walking a little funny later on, but that’s OK. He can blame it on the squats. 

[photoguy]

19 hours ago, photoguy said:

4000 views?! You pervs are fucking horny! Seriously, I’m glad you like it. It’s been fun, and I’m going to keep it up (in every sense).

Now 5000+? You fuckers must be getting dehydrated...

[photoguy]

This one will be in two parts - never fear, we’ll get weights and measures in the next section. Suffice it to say Derek is closing in on Matt’s size and strength, and his aggression and alpha male tendencies are growing right along with his body...

 

 

Fraternal Part 7.1: The Winner Takes it All

“Uuhhhnnnn” Derek rammed the jock’s mouth powerfully, not giving a fuck if he hurt the smaller dude kneeling down below his huge body, palming his head and pounding roughly into the warm wet throat. He slammed all the way in and flexed hard, his dick and abs bulging out with even more raw power. He felt the hole tighten and his dick surged even bigger. 

 

“Mmmmffff, MMMMMFFFFF!” the muscle jock started pounding on Derek’s cabled quads, his mind beginning to shut down from lack of oxygen. His struggles just made Derek ram harder, stretching his lips almost to the tearing point. He shoved in one last time and felt his cock start blasting huge gouts of muscle cum into the broken young man below, hot jizz overloading his little mouth and spurting back out of his gaping lips and even his nose. Derek pulled out suddenly, the enormous flange exiting with a loud *pop*, and blasted the last heavy ropes of cum all over the athlete’s face, coating him completely. 

 

He wiped his dripping cockhead off on the young man’s hair and stuffed his massive, semi hard dick back into his pants, glaring down at the broken senior jock. 

 

Derek’s latest cum dump lifted his tired hands to scoop the load off his face - his eyelashes and brows were glued down with it, his face completely splattered with a rank mask. Some of the biggest globs had rolled down onto his jersey-clad pecs. 

 

“Did I give you permission to clean up?” Derek growled, a dangerous note entering his deep voice. 

 

The jock whimpered in response, but didn’t object... then again, he knew if he disobeyed he’d be cut off from Derek’s incredible body and cock, maybe forever. 

 

“Just for that, I want you to get back out there, bitch. And leave that load on your face. I want everybody to know what a cum hungry pussy you really are. And once everybody sees you, you’ll scoop the cum off your jersey with both hands and slam it deep down your throat with your fingers. And don’t just put it in there - I want you to suck that jizz so hard your cheeks cave in. Got it? GOT IT?”

 

He had to pry his sperm glued, tired mouth open to answer. He’d recently starting using lip plumpers to make his face pussy a more attractive target for his master. He couldn’t let HIM down.

 

“Mmmmfff, y- yes, Sir,” he whimpered, knowing what would happen if he made a display of himself like that in the crowded hall, yet powerless to resist. 

 

He rose from the filthy bathroom floor, shuddering, and turned to leave. 

 

Derek gave his ass a huge whack, both as punishment and reward, his giant paw leaving a red imprint that would last for days. On the off chance that any of his teammates missed this little dance, the deep red brand of a man’s mitt would be sure to mark him out in the locker room as completely owned. 

 

*Quite a change from our previous interactions,* he thought, catching sight of his hulking reflection in the mirror and bouncing his sweaty pecs. 

 

________________

 

“Uhh OW!” Derek’s golden blond head ricocheted off the steel locker door, not hard enough to injure him, just enough to to hurt his pride. 

 

“Sorry miss, didn’t see you there. You sure you’re in the right place? This is the men’s locker room. Cheerleading’s down the hall!”

 

Brett let out an ugly bark of a laugh, his big chest rising with each guffaw and stretching his lacrosse jersey. 

 

“Dude, that’s Matt’s little brother,” one of his teammates whispered. 

 

Brett hesitated in spite of himself. Matt was the biggest guy in the school, but he was known as a gentle giant (off the field, anyway) who didn’t really use his size to bully or fight - at least any more than he had to to reinforce his alpha status. Plus, his little bro would probably be too embarrassed to tell him what happened, he thought, with the monstrous insight of the born bully. 

 

Brett turned back to Derek and appraised him - short, tiny, pretty like a girl. Definitely not a threat, even with a big older brother. 

 

He suddenly grabbed Derek by the throat, slamming his back into the lockers. 

 

“You gonna run to your bro, pussy? Gonna suck his dick to get him to try and beat me up, fag?”

 

Derek’s face went deep red from a combination of pain, humiliation, and overwhelming rage. 

 

“WELL? Answer me!” the jock shook his body for emphasis, rattling the locker and Derek’s teeth. 

 

“No. I won’t tell him.”

 

Brett let go suddenly, watching Derek slide down onto the bench with satisfaction. 

 

“Good. Otherwise...” Brett bounced his pecs and groped his meaty dick obscenely.

 

________________

 

Like all bullies, Brett was a roiling mix of projection and denial. He called guys fags because he was one himself; he pushed them around because he was a sub in search of a big, dominant alpha man. As his body developed, Derek noticed Brett giving him increasingly wistful and hungry looks. There was something there, not quite right...

 

He started to watch Brett covertly, purposefully flexing or flopping his dick around just to watch the sweat bead on his forehead. Circling him like a shark. Waiting, ramping up the bully’s sexual frustration to a fever pitch. And then...

 

Derek smiled at the memory. Like the Grinch, Brett’s core grew three sizes that day. You could still catch a glimpse of how sloppy and loose his hole was when he quickly changed from jock strap to underwear after practice.

[OldFashioned]

God I love it when a man is so powerfully perfect and masculine that even the straightest guys can’t resist him. Just a total, effortless seduction that the straight guys are helpless against 

[photoguy]

As always, if you dirty bastards shot your loads to this, let me know!

[richard18]

well it was hot but i have a strong mind over body so i did get hard but i didnt shoot any load, also when did derek get so big from the previous chapter, it sounded like he has gotten 30lbs heavier with muscle, really want to draw them dude, mostly andy, derek and matt 

[Ro20316]

Dereck showing his dominant site it's a treat. He sure learned how to read people and he started with Brett and the coach.

This is freaking great so far

[photoguy]

So here’s the next bit. Might be sexy to some of you, but not exactly mainstream. TW for violence. 
 

Fraternal Part 7.2: The Winner Takes it All (remix)

 

Derek lined his massive body up with the mirror, making sure to get into the same spot as usual to test his growing body. No doubt about it - his shoulders were definitely wider. Fuuuck. He felt his cock stir, but told it sternly to settle down.

 

A growth spurt and four months of insane training had rendered him unrecognizable. True, he still had the same blond hair and blue eyes, but what a change everywhere else! His jaw was even wider and heavier, his cheekbones prominent, his brow heavier. Sexy. Masculine. 

 

And his body. 220 pounds packed onto a 6’3” frame. Matt and Andy had joined him and Coach in their after hours workout sessions, and the results had been incredible. Matt had piled on slabs of muscle, weighing in at 240 pounds. Andy and Coach were looking bigger and leaner, too. 

 

Derek hoisted his arms up into a double bi, salivating over the split in the veiny peak. Fuuuuck... he felt compelled to lick the muscle, to suck it. *Mmmmm... so fucking big...*

 

His dick had just snapped to attention when he heard a frantic pounding on their front door. He threw on a robe to hide his boner and ran downstairs to see Matt opening the door for Stacy. 

 

She was a mess. Her lovely face sported the beginning of a spectacular black eye, already puffing. Her high cheekbone had a bruise as well, and her full lower lip was trickling blood. She sobbed hysterically, tears streaming down her poor face. Matt pulled her in the door and slammed it shut behind her, enveloping her into a deep, gentle hug and whispering down into her hair. 

 

“Shhhh, shhhh. It’s OK Stace. Your big man is here, and he won’t let anyone hurt you. Not ever.”

 

Her tears started to taper off under his ministrations. She pulled back a little, grimacing at the tear- and bloodstains on Matt’s shirt. 

 

“Your shirt! I’m sorry, let me clean it...”

 

“Screw the shirt. Stacy, what happened to you? Who did this?” Matt led her over to the couch, thankful that his parents were out. They’d have taken one look at her and called the cops. 

 

“Daddy- he- I- he found out. About us, Matt. He found out about us,” Stacy whispered. 

 

Red and purple sparks started fizzing around the edge of Matt’s vision as he imagined that sick fuck of a father of hers beating up the girl he loved. His big fists clenched, causing the heavy cables of his forearms to writhe like a bag of snakes. 

 

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Matt growled, almost jumping up and throwing her battered body onto the floor. 

 

“NO! NO NO NO! Matt, please, please don’t. Please,” she started sobbing again. She hated her father - she realized that now, realized she always had - but couldn’t bear the though of the man she loved soiling himself that way. 

 

“Please. Just stay with me. Please. Promise me. I need you...” she snuggled up to his brawny body, holding on tight to the one person in her life who was stable, trustworthy, strong. 

 

“OK, I promise. But you’re not staying there! You’ll stay here tonight and we’ll move you out tomorrow.”

 

“Of course. I’m over 18, so they can’t do anything about it.”

 

Derek slowly backed into the shadows and crept up the stairs, clenching his fists in a cold rage. His twin might have promised, but he hadn’t. And now his family had a little score to settle with the Pastor. 

 

He chose his clothing deliberately. A soft old baseball t-shirt that clung to his newly massive body like a film of pale blue oil. A baggy black hoodie, too big even for him or Matt, to cover up his assets until he was ready to reveal them. Workout shorts that left the veiny diamonds of his calves on display, and heavy size 13 steel toed work boots he had to leave unlaced at the top due to those monstrous calves. Just in case. 

 

Derek strode out the back door and down the block. The Pastor. Not really a pastor, of course, but a nickname the brothers had given to Stacy’s father. And not just for his religious fundamentalism, either. Both he and his wife had started out very attractive people (they’d created Stacy, after all), but a lifetime of hatred and sourness had spoiled their looks and health. Making them, as Matt quipped, “past ‘er prime.” 

 

Derek knew from Stacy that her mother was away at a “purity retreat” (probably code for church lady lezz out) which was undoubtedly why her father had the nerve to beat her. He spanked her occasionally (something that left Matt and Derek flabbergasted), but never went this far. 

 

Derek punched his massive fist into his thick palm with a terrifying *smack*. He’d been training in boxing as well as weightlifting with Coach Hoffmann, and he was ready to apply his new knowledge. 

 

________________

 

Derek rang the bell once and smiled his most winning grin into the peephole. The Pastor cracked open the door slowly, his caution undone by that handsome face. 

 

“Hi Mr. Van der Meer. Can I come in?” Derek flashed that megawatt smile again. Of course the Pastor opened the door. 

 

Derek took long strides into the living room, turning to face his prey. When the door was bolted securely and the fucker was inside, he suddenly grabbed the pudgy little fuck by the throat and slammed him back into the wall, denting the drywall a little from the force.

 

“Gee whiz Mr. Van der Meer, don’t you recognize me? I’m a school friend of Stacy’s,” he continued in his best *Leave it to Beaver* impression. The Pastor didn’t answer. He was too busy struggling to breathe, clawing at the huge hand that held him tight. 

 

“WELL?” Derek shook him for emphasis, then loosened his grip slightly to let the little fucker breathe. 

 

“I- what- how dare you-“

 

Derek clamped down again, shutting off the stream of bullshit. 

 

“You and I are gonna have a little talk, Jesus-man. That is, I’m gonna talk, and you’re gonna listen. Got it? GOT IT?”

 

He gave the Pastor an additional slam for emphasis. The Pastor nodded. 

 

“First topic: what kind of hateful fuck beats up his own daughter?”

 

The Pastor started sputtering and burbling nonsense about the whore of Babylon. Derek stopped him simply by raising his other hand, loving the way he flinched. 

 

Derek casually backhanded him, bruising his cheek and causing by his head to bounce off the wall again. 

 

“See, that was a rhetorical question, Jesus-man. You may be all about the New Testament, by I’m here to explain some Old Testament justice to you. Namely, an eye for an eye. You got that?”

 

The fucker started crying and begging, knowing what was coming yet helpless to stop it. 

 

“Ah, I think maybe you do. So let’s begin the lesson, huh?”

 

With that, Derek balled his giant fist and punched the Pastor, blacking his eye and causing it to swell shut almost immediately.  Still pinning him to the wall, Derek started rhythmically punching his gut, driving his soft body up the wall with the force. His stomach, none too firm to begin with, began to soften and quickly felt like mush. 

 

“How do you like that, Jesus-man?” Derek hissed. “How do you like having the shit beat out of you by somebody you can’t reason with? Somebody you thought you could trust? Huh fucker? ANSWER ME.”

 

Derek eased up on his neck. 

 

“i’m sorry,” he whispered between gasps, tears streaming down his battered face. “please stop.”

 

Derek saw red at that, picking him up with one hand and holding him off the floor, slamming him into the wall again. He casually backhanded the Pastor again, breaking his nose and splitting his lip. 

 

He looked over his pathetic victim. The Pastor was a small man, about 5’9”, with skinny limbs and a pudgy midsection. His clothes were dribbled with blood, and Derek noted with disgust that the sick fuck had a boner, the small dick poking up diamond hard against his khakis. 

 

The Pastor noticed Derek’s glance and started burbling louder this time, probably afraid the massive jock would kill him for the affront. 

 

“So, we got us a sub fag here, huh? Not enough that you torture your family and beat your daughter, you get off on being slapped around by muscle guys?”

 

He suddenly released the Pastor’s neck, dropping him to the floor in a puddle. The Pastor’s head hung down, dripping blood onto Derek’s massive boots, but his hand started to climb the insanely muscled leg before him. 

 

“Lick my boots clean, bitch. And don’t get near my cock, or you’re a dead man. I wouldn’t fuck you with Hitler’s dick,” he growled, seeing another way to teach this poison pudding a lesson. 

 

The Pastor started with gusto, clearly no stranger to this kind of play. Derek didn’t know whether to laugh or kick, so he settled on spitting right into the pathetic fuck’s thinning hair. 

 

Suddenly Derek reached down and grabbed his shoulder hard, flipping him over onto his back and banging his head on the wall so hard he saw stars. He lowered his boot into the smaller man’s crotch, smashing his dick and balls, almost popping them completely. 

 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, bitch. You’re gonna give me $10,000. Cash. I’ll collect it next weekend, and you better have it. If you behave yourself, I might let you see more of this.”

 

With that, Derek unzipped the hoodie and revealed his massively muscled, shredded physique, which looked even more naked in the sweaty, clinging shirt than if he’d actually been naked. 

 

The Pastor moaned and came, a pathetic squirt of semen dribbling out of his cock despite (or because of) the pressure. 

 

Derek flexed. 

 

“Yeah, you get me my money and I might not tear you apart. And you leave Stacy alone. She’s not your daughter anymore, fuckface. You mess with her in any way and I’ll make sure you eat your meals through a straw for a couple of months. Really cross me and you’ll be shitting in a bag and rolling around in a wheelchair for the rest of your life. Got it?”

 

“yes. i understand. i’ll be good, i swear,” he gasped, still shuddering. He knew he was in trouble, and that it was only beginning. 

 

Derek wiped the Pastor’s blood off his big knuckles and onto the pathetic fuck’s sweater vest, spat in his face for good measure, then swaggered off. 

 

*Looks like I got me a cash fag tonight. I’ll have to thank Stacy once she’s better.”

[Ro20316]

MMMM I bet after that act of dominance he went to the coach or Brett for a good rough pounding.

Derek loves his body more than even Matt