muscle growth Re-Posting: My New Pal by BBMikeNJ

[arpeejay]

Part 11

Tommy and I trained for the next four weeks with a hardcore frenzy. Ken, the gym manager, helped out a lot, helping me spot Tommy on his heaviest lifts, and making protein drinks by the gallon for us. Ken had even decided to drop out of the competition in order to focus more on Tommy, who, in return, poured everything he had into getting bigger and stronger. And it worked. He grew and grew. Two nights before the competition, Ken weighed him in at 365 lbs. Even more amazing was that his body-fat had gone from 14% when we started, to 9%. His veins were standing out more than ever, and there were more of them. They didn't just look like road maps...now, they looked like road maps of the highway system of Los Angeles. And Tommy loved watching them in the mirror as he flexed, rippling and heaving his muscles till the veins bulged up thru the skin more and more, twisting and turning like the mighty Mississippi, feeding his engorged muscles till they were bloated beyond belief.

And bloated his muscles should be, given the insane poundage he was moving when he trained. Ken had never seen anyone with so much strength. After the first week, he started closing the gym when we came in to workout, because everyone would gather around to watch Tommy lift world record breaking weight, and Ken didn't want the word getting out too soon about the freak kid he was training for the powerlifting meet. Tommy was lifting so much that Ken had to order extra 100-lb. plates for his gym. A lot of them. Tommy loved it when we added one more plate to each side of the bar, and he would press it out for reps, then rack it, sit up, and flex out. And I loved it too. I kept paying off my bet, too, even though I knew I was even. Tommy's workouts got him so riled up, and I serviced him four, five times a day. Neither of us could get enough.

And it was paying off for me, too. I'd never been so big and ripped up in my life. I'd entered a couple of amateur contests in the past, and it was easy to see the difference between that level of competition and the pro level. Guys who go pro have a different look that you can recognize real early on. And in an amateur contest, a guy like that stands out big time. Everyone notices him because he stands out from the crowd with his superior conditioning and mass. And I knew I was going to be that guy at this competition. Training with Tommy had notched up my game at least two levels. I was going to wipe the stage with any local bodybuilder who stepped on the stage against me. Destroy them like a joke. My progress had been so rapid since I'd met Tommy, I had to wonder if my paying off the bet wasn't part of the reason.

The night before the competitions, Tommy had a gig with his heavy metal band downtown. I knew better than to try and talk him out of playing with them, because they'd had three gigs during the past four weeks, and he refused to miss them. He said he'd made the commitment to them and he was their only drummer. I had to respect him for it. Besides, his presence with the band had given them some local buzz, and people were filling the clubs they played in order to get a look at the Beast Drummer. He would start out the night in a tee shirt, but at the end of the first set, he'd ask some chick up on stage to peel the sweat-drenched tee off of him. The place would go wild as she tugged and tugged it over his massive body, slowly exposing the enormous bulk of his arms and chest. Then Tommy would stand up and flex, and let guys come up and give him forearm smashes across his massive barrel chest. Even the Goth kids got into it.

I went down to see him play that last night before the meet. I made it thru the first set, and got to see the striptease. It was pretty funny seeing the size of him, especially next to a bunch of skinny, pale, white kids who pounded on his chest with no effect. One of the stage lights was a dark green, and it made him look a little like Shrek. The music was so freaking loud, though, it made my head buzz. Plus, I knew he'd be here till 2 or 3 in the morning. I wanted to get some sleep before my contest the next afternoon, so I headed out early. I was spending the night at Tommy's place, and when I pulled up outside, Mr. Berg was sitting out front.

"Hey, Arn," I said, as I came up on the porch.

"Hey, Joe," he said. "I'm glad you came back early. I need your help with something." He picked up his lit cigar, got up and led me into the house. He picked up something off the kitchen counter and headed out back. "Come on," he said, cigar in his mouth. He went over to an outside outlet and plugged something in. He stood up and I could see that he was holding an electric clipper, like a barber uses. He put it down on the patio table, put his cigar in the ashtray next to it, then stripped off his shirt. The only light out here was coming from the kitchen window, so it was shadowy, but I could see that he was completely jacked up. The old dude was built better than I'd imagined. He looked like he was about 290lbs, yet his massive shoulder spread tapered down to about a 32-inch waist.

"I got a surprise for you, Joe," he said.

"Yeah?"

"You know that little bodybuilding show you're in tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"I entered it."

"You did what?"

"Yep," he said. "When I picked up the entry form for Tommy's powerlifting meet, I got a form for your show and entered. I'm in the Masters' division. I was going to surprise you with it tomorrow, but I need a hand. Think you could help shave me down?"

"Well, sure," I said, more than a little stunned.

"Here, take these clippers and start on my chest. I wanted to get rid of most of the hair out here, otherwise I'll clog up the shower."

As I stepped up to him, I could see what he meant. His chest hair was thick as a pelt. I picked up the clippers and flicked on the switch. It started buzzing loudly. "Where should I start?" I asked him.

"Here," he said, and he took my hand and guided it to his waist. "Now just move up toward my neck like you're mowing a lawn."

A very overgrown lawn, I thought to myself. I pushed the clippers up the left side of his abs and watched the thick chestnut brown hair fall off him. When I got to his chest, the electric buzz deepened and slowed. Here, the hair was much thicker and was mixed with gray. When I got to his neck, where his hairline came to a sudden stop right about his collarbone, I moved the clippers back down to his waistline, and started up again. I could see the ridges of his abs as the hair fell away. The old fucker had a deeply etched 8 pack going. His big chest heaved up and down as I mowed it. His big thick nipples emerged as I cut the thick pelt away from them. When I got up close to his neck, I could smell his foul cigar breath. I could feel the clippers overheating in my hand as they cut more and more of his heavy fur off of him. When I got done with his chest and abs, the clippers were smoking. I stepped back to look at him. He brushed away some of the loose hair. "Not bad, huh?" he said, flexing into a double biceps.

Not bad? He was in the same league as I was, at least. His arms looked like they had a triple peak popping up at the top. He was going to crush any old dude who stepped on the stage with him. Crush.

"It's kind of dark out here," he said. "See if you can feel the striations on my chest." He flexed his chest out, and I reached up and put my hand on it. It felt like a bunch of piano cords had been braided together, as I ran my hand across the stubbly pecs. "Think I'm coming in dry enough, stud?" he asked me. He picked up his cigar, put it in his mouth, and drew on it hard. I could hear the lit end sizzle and pop in my ear. He pulled the cigar out of his mouth, turned his head to the side and blew the smoke up and out. I was getting dizzy.

"You ever wonder how Tommy's been able to grow so fast and get so strong, Joe?" he asked me.

"Yeah, it's crossed my mind," I said, surprised by his question.

"He and I have this thing," he said. "I figure it's genetic, or maybe something more. We can control things more than most people."

"What things?" I asked.

"Like our bodies. Or events. Or other people. And once we decide there's something we want to do, or have, we can pretty much make it happen. I wasn't sure Tommy had it, until this last year. Guess he's a late bloomer. But it sure has kicked in for him. Maybe even more than usual. Let me ask you, you ever do anything around Tommy that you might have thought you'd never do?"

"Sort of," I answered.

"Yeah, I kinda figured. But you like it though, right?"

"More than I might have ever thought," I said.

"That's good. And it shows on you too. You feeling it? You look...improved."

"I feel improved."

"Yep. Same thing is happening to that Russian stripper I get with at the club."

"What do you mean?"

"Since I've been getting with her, she's gained 60lbs of muscle. Now she's 5'9, 190lbs and ripped as you are. She loves it, but the club owner was going to fire her, until he found out she's pulling in a whole new clientele. Lot a guys into her new musclebound physique. And strength."

"How does it work?" I asked.

"Like this," he said, and he reached up and stroked the side of my neck with his index and middle finger. I got goosebumps up and down my whole body. He pulled my head back, leaned into me and kissed me. I felt his hot funky cigar-tasting tongue in my mouth. I sucked on his tongue hard. He pulled me into him, his old man muscles hard as granite, and big as the pro wrestler Batista at his peak. He picked me up off the ground, then pulled his mouth away. "You feeling it?" he asked me, as he squeezed my ass.

"Yessir," I said. It felt like every Christmas morning of my life rolled into one moment. "You feeling it, too?"

"What do you think, Joe? Feel how hard I am. Feel how huge I am. I could beat a pro bodybuilder with this 56 y.o. muscle."

"This is fucking awesome," I said, feeling myself swell.

"Just wait. It gets better. Lots better. But first you gotta finish shaving me down. Let's get in the shower."

More to cum…

[arpeejay]

Part 12

[Just FYI: I always found this chapter volcanically hot! – rpj]

Arn and I got into the outdoor shower so I could finish shaving him down for the contest tomorrow. I went thru eight Mach 3 razors getting the fur off his big legs. He shaved the hair off his forearms and pits, and when we were done, he stepped back and flexed.

"How do I look?" he asked me as he turned off the shower head. He looked like a superheavyweight bodybuilder in contest shape. He turned his back to me. "Check out these glutes," he said to me. His ass was rounded up high and thick, and when he flexed his cheeks, striations came popping out all over them. "Ripped to shreds, hey Joey," he said.

"Yes," I said, "God yes."

"Yeah," he said, "I can feel it when with my fingers." Then he reached back and put his hands on his glutes and started rubbing on his muscle. "You oughta feel these cuts, Joe, they're tight as guitar string. Come here and touch them." I stepped over to him as he moved his hands away from his ass. His glutes were unbelievable. Not as massed up as Tommy's, but more densely packed with muscle fiber. "Go ahead and punch them, I wanna feel how hard they are. Take your best shot." I reared back and slammed my fist into his right glute. It was like hitting a wall. "You like feeling my strength, Joe?" he asked as he turned around, getting nose to nose with me.

"You know I do," I answered, leaning into him.

"You think bullets would bounce off this chest?" he asked me, flexing his cement-slabs of pec muscle into me.

"Aw, hell yeah," I answered, feeling his thick hard muscle ripple against me.

"How strong is Tommy now?" he asked. He had made a point of staying away from the gym, where Ken and I had been working out with Tommy, who had grown in strength and size in tremendous leaps.

"He benched 1000 lbs. the other night," I told him.

"I'll tell you a secret," he said, squeezing me tighter, and whispering in my ear. "I've got three times his strength."

I leaned my head back and looked at him. "You could bench...."

"3000 lbs.," he said.

"That's not...." I started to say.

"Possible?" he finished for me. "Care to feel my bearhug?" And he tightened his grip around me, his arms like two anacondas, and he lifted me up into the air. "Try and get out, boy," he said. My arms were pinned to my sides, and I felt like I was being crushed in a trash compactor.

"You could bench a ton and a half?" I grunted out, turned on by the thought of Arn's insane strength.

"For reps," he growled into my ear. I pressed my face against the side of his neck, and I could see why Marines were called Leathernecks. The skin on Arn's neck was the color of rich leather, and furrowed from years of overexposure to the sun. He was squeezing me so tightly that it was hard to breathe in, and even though we'd just showered, I could smell his masculine scent. His neck had some blond fuzz on it that I'd missed when I was shaving him. I put my mouth on his thick skinned neck and sucked on it, licking the fuzz with my tongue. I heard him groan.

"I could crush your ribcage like an old bird's nest," he grunted in my ear, and crushed me harder with his big arms. I felt some fear, as I realized he was telling the truth, but his power was turning me on so much that I had a raging hard-on, pinned against his rock hard abs.

"Harder," I said.

"Yeah? You like feeling this grandpa strength, boy?" he asked. "I like seeing how much you can take." And he squeezed me harder.

"Aww god," I cried out, both in pain and in pleasure. I arched into him, and felt my cock slide up his freshly shaved ab wall.

"You think my arms are strong, you should feel the power in these legs. I should scissor you in my 36-inch quads, let you feel where Tommy gets his strength from."

"Aw, fuck, I love you, man," I groaned.

"That's right you do, but don't you cum yet, boy," he said. "Save that muscle jizz, and if you win that show tomorrow, I'll take you on a ride you will never forget. I'll get myself bigger and stronger than ever." He released his bearhug on me, and stepped back. "Might even let you pec-fuck these bulletproof slabs," he said, bouncing his huge mounds at me. Dexter Jackson would be envious of the old man's pecs. Their muscle density did make them look bulletproof. And they made the pre-cum leak from my dickhead to the floor of the shower. "You hold that jizz in there, Joe," warned Arn.

"You're not making it easy, old man," I said, pushing on his granite chest.

Arn laughed, and said, "Maybe you're right. Maybe this will help." He grabbed the hose to the showerhead and lifted it off its holder, then sprayed me down with ice cold water. I gasped in air as my skin tightened over my jacked up muscles. Then he turned the hose on himself, and the cold water made his skin tighten up, too. Both of us looked crazy tight and shredded, our muscles rippling everywhere. "Go get some sleep, boy, and tomorrow we will wipe the stage with our competition."

I went upstairs and got ready for bed. I laid down in the extra mattress we'd put in Tommy's room, but I couldn't really sleep. I heard Tommy come in around 3:30. He stripped off his clothes and made the whole room smell like muscle sweat. "You awake?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I said.

"You jonesing for tomorrow?"

"Big time."

"You want me to suck you off?" he asked me.

"Arn said I should save it till after the contest."

"That's bullshit, man. I can see you’re hard as rock, and I need some of your paste to make me strong." He stood over me naked, stroking his cock, his huge body a massive shadow in the dark room. He put one big hand on my chest, pinning me to the mattress. He straddled me. "Try and hold back, fucker," he said, as he put his mouth on my engorged hard-on. I looked down at his head as it worked up and down. I put my hands on his basketball-sized delts, and felt the ropey strength of the muscle heads. I thought of him doing seated dumbbell presses with the 250's, and I came in seconds. A big load too, I felt him gulping down rope after rope. Then he sat up and wiped the back of his mouth with his big forearm. "Nice," he said. "Now it's my turn." He sidled up toward my head, one 40-inch thigh on each side of me.

"Dude, you're crushing me," I said, pushing up, but not even budging, his now 375 lb. bulked up powerlifter teen body.

"Sorry bro," he said, and he leaned some of his weight forward onto his legs. His huge power-chest was so oversized that I couldn't see his head as he loomed over me. Just two jutting mounds of muscle. He put his hands on the floor above the mattress, and slid his hard-on into my mouth. "Aww, yeahhh," he groaned as I sucked down hard. "I'm so fucking horny, man. Cum's been building up all day, churning out of my big balls in buckets, I can feel it." He started bucking into my face. "Take my huge fucking load, bro. Take my protein and fucking grow. Aww yeah, fucking musclefreak powercum!"

He kept fucking my face, his pre spewing out, lubing up my throat, as the sweat began to pour off his bulk. I punched his sides just to hear my fists slamming into his beef. "Aww yeahh, fucker, punch the cum right outta me, gonna fill you with it." Finally, he spewed like a bull, filling me so full I could feel the heat of his paste in my stomach. Then he rolled off of me, onto the floor with a thud. He stroked his still swollen cock as he stared up at the ceiling. "You ever get fucked up the ass?" he asked me.

"No," I said.

"If I wanted to, I could do it to you right now, you couldn't stop me."

"That's fucked up, man," I said.

He chuckled as he stroked himself. "I'm just saying. I bench more than twice as you can now. Be easy for me to make you my bitch."

"You're an ass," I said, and he chuckled again.

A few seconds passed, then he said, "You're hard again, aren't you?"

"Yes," I answered, as I stroked myself.

"Nice."

A minute or two passed, then I heard Tommy starting to snore. I looked over at him, and thought of him coming into the room at 400-plus pounds of powerlifting muscle, deciding to make me his bitch. His hulking frame moving me around like a toy as he challenged me to try and stop him. Then what it would feel like to have him pin me down and take me.

I came in about 20 seconds. Then I started drifting off to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

More to cum…

[arpeejay]

Part 13: Finale

Tommy and I got to the powerlifting competition early, but there were already other competitors there. Some of them were helping the staff lay down mats and place the benches, bars, and weights were they had to go. Ken was already there too, helping out, so we went over to him and pitched in our help. Word had gotten out that there was a new kid who was going to challenge the Turk in the superheavyweight division, and I could feel the buzz going around the gymnasium as guys nodded over toward Tommy as they realized that he must be the one. Even in a room filled with big strapping men, Tommy stood out. And when he picked up a weight tree loaded with 100-lb. plates and moved it to the other side of the floor, he stood out even more.

It wasn't long before the gym began to fill with more competitors and their buddies and families. I'd never seen so many beefed up guys in one place. Unlike the bodybuilding shows I'd done, where the guys had dieted down to be as tight as possible, these guys were bulked up with power. Even the 'smaller' guys had big thick squat butts and humungous quads for their size. The gym was beginning to smell of testosterone and Sportscreme, as the powerlifters began to warm up with 'light' weights of 225 lbs. and up. And the buzz about Tommy got even bigger. None of the lifters liked the Turk. He had beaten all the other heavyweights with ease, so none of them could stand him, but even the smaller guys hated him for his arrogant attitude. Some of them had even gotten into scuffles with him, but it always ended badly for them. The Turk was strong and mean. Ken told us that he'd started Turkish oil wrestling when he was 14, and even at that age, was beating full grown men with relative ease. It made him cocky as hell. When he was 16, he was banned from Turkish oil wrestling for hurting too many of his opponents. That's when he turned to powerlifting. By the time he was 18 he was 250lbs of Herculean power and he came to the United States. He got a job making 'collections' for a local loan shark. He spent his free time lifting and slabbing on tremendous size and strength for his work and for powerlifting meets, where he loved nothing more than totally domination. Now, at a bulked up 400 lbs. of Turkish muscle, no one had been able to give him a challenge. Until today.

Suddenly, there was some commotion at one end of the gymnasium. "He must be here," said Ken. And he was right. A set of double doors opened up at one end of the gym, and two big dudes, probably both 280+, walked in, both carrying big gym bags. They held the doors for the Turk, who waddled in like an overfed king. He was so massive, he made his two cronies look small. He probably had a 45-inch rounded out musclegut, but it was balanced out by his 75-inch chest. And by his enormous legs. My god, his legs. Monstrous, thick, super ape-hairy legs. No wonder he waddled. He had to swing those beast thighs around each other with every step. His body hair jutted up around the collar of his tee shirt, both in front and in back. He had hairy ape arms, hairy knuckles, even hairy ears, and not just sprouting out from the inside, but even the tops of his ears had coarse black hair jutting out like fly hairs. He was ugly and brutish, but his size made him intimidating, and people parted out of his way as he walked thru the gym. And I hated it, but he turned me on. I couldn't help but stare at his huge squat butt as he waddled by us. The most monstrous ass I'd ever seen, even bigger than Tommy's, wider and thicker, and it was vastly highlighted by the lifting shorts he had on, the legs of which were making red rings on the skin of his massive thighs as they slid up a little with every step he took, exposing more monster mass and thick black hair. The seat of his lifting shorts had a wide vertical stripe of ass sweat staining thru it, as it got swallowed up in the deep cavern of muscle where his glutes met up in the back. I must have been staring too long, thinking of burying my face in that dark funky chasm of superheavyweight powerlifter ass, because Tommy slapped me upside the head.

"We're here to beat that guy, remember?" he said to me.

"Who are you again?" I said, rubbing my head.

Tommy rolled his eyes, then continued to warm up, with Ken's help.

"I have to go sign in," I said, adjusting my cock so it wouldn't chub up anymore to the hideous freak mass monster that was the Turk. "I'll be back." As I headed to the auditorium where the bodybuilding contest was going to be, I ran into Arn. He had a tank top on and it showed off his ultra-wide shoulder span. I could see all three heads of his delts rippling with muscle. Then I noticed that his chest hair had already started to show. "Man, you got stubble," I said to him.

He looked down at his big pecs and said, "Yeah, I shoulda realized that would happen, given how fast my beard grows back in. Two hours after a shave, and I got shadow showing. Feel," he said, and he grabbed my hand and put it under the strap of his tank. He rubbed my hand on his pec, and his chest stubble was bristly as a wire brush. "You think they'll take points off for it?" he asked.

"I'm not sure...maybe," I said, cupping the hefty weight of his stone-hard pec. I let my thumb flick over his jutting nipple.

"Aw, careful, Joe," Arn groaned, "those bad boys have been aching for attention since you shaved my chest last night." And I could see his bullet nip jutting out farther. "Funny thing is, the slightest touch makes them respond, but they're so tough, you could also take a pair of pliers to them and it still gets me off." He reached up and grabbed his nips and twisted them hard. "Damn that's good," he said. We started walking down the hallway, past a row of office doors. Arn stopped at a door that said "Coach Griffin" on it. "Let's check this room out for a second," he said. He twisted the doorknob, and I could tell that it was locked.

"It's the weekend, Arn, nobody's in." Then I heard metal crack as Arn twisted the doorknob so hard that the lock broke and the door opened up.

"Looks like the coach forgot to lock up," said Arn, pulling me inside. He kicked the door shut and grabbed me. "I was thinking of you all night, boy," he said, wrapping his arms around me tight. "I woke up hard as steel thinking of you. Chew on these nips for a while before I lose my mind." He didn't have to ask me twice. I started gnawing on his fleshy nips, and the harder I gnawed, the harder he moaned. He undid his pants and his cock popped out, arching up toward his abs like a satyr's. He reached around and grabbed my glutes. "You got a hotter ass than a Russian stripper, boy," he said, as we stumbled up against the coach's desk and made it slide up against the wall. "I gotta tap that hard," he said. He reached down and swept everything off the desk with his big arm.

"I thought you said I should wait till after the contest," I said.

"I said you should wait, I didn't say anything about me," then he lifted me up and slammed my back onto the desktop. The only light coming into the room was from around the door, which wasn't fully shut because Arn had crushed the knob. It was enough light for me to see Arn's upper body rippling with thick muscle as he reached down and undid my pants, pulling them off me. He put his big hands on my quads and gripped them hard. "You've gotten a lot bigger since we met, haven't you, Joe?" I shook my head yes. I'd gained over three inches on my quads alone. It felt awesome feeling that extra mass on them as Arn massaged them roughly. He pushed my legs apart and upward. He had me bent nearly double when he climbed up on top of me. I heard the metal legs of the desk squeak at the extra weight of him. He spit in his hand and lubed himself up. He stopped for a second, then said, "Even better..." and he reached over to a shelf on the wall and pulled off a bottle of Purell. He lubed himself up with that and groaned with pleasure. Then he squirted it into my ass crack and started rubbing it in with his big fingers. It was icy cold on my hole, but was an amazing sensation, especially when he shoved in two of his fingers and worked them around. I got goosebumps up and down my body as he loosened me up. He squirted more Purell down there, which felt cold and hot at the same time somehow. It made my butthole twitch hard on his fingers. "Oh, yeah," he said. "You ready for the real deal?" he asked me, as he covered his dick with more Purell. I shook my head yes. He guided his arched prong into me and started pumping. I never thought I would get into this at all, but as he pounded into me harder and harder, we got into a rhythm, and the pleasure of feeling his power inside me grew and grew. We even started grunting in rhythm...Uhh uhh uhh...as the two of us became one. He lifted me up into him on the desk, allowing him to plunge deeper into me, and as I dug my fingers into the thick muscularity of his sweaty back, I almost blacked out from the ecstasy of the moment. I wanted more than anything to blow my load on his bristly 8-pack, and as if sensing how close I was, Arn growled out, "Don't you cum." I arched my head back and sat deeper onto his big arching cock. It took everything I had not to let my jizz fly like a geyser. It was almost painful, holding it back, but also intensely erotic. I felt his hard-on pushing my prostate to the side as it burrowed inside me deeper and deeper. He pounded into me harder, bouncing me up and down like a toy, making the desk buck and creak. Finally, he pushed me down hard on top of his dick, let go of me, so he was supporting me with his hard-on. He reached back and gripped the desk, arched his ass upward, and came inside me. As he blew his load in me, he gripped the edges of the desk so hard they snapped off in his fingers. He leaned forward, lowering my back onto the desktop as he continued to thrust, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. When he finally pulled out of me, he tore his tank top in two, and threw one half to me.

"Wipe me down," he said, and I used the torn tank to mop up the sweat on his muscular shredded chest and back. Then I wiped off his still-hard dick, and as I did, he grabbed my hand and rubbed it up and down his shaft roughly. Then he took the other half of his tank and rubbed me down good and hard with it.

"Now, where do we sign in?" he asked, tossing his used-up shirt into the wastebasket in the corner.

After the sign-in, Arn and I headed back to Tommy. The bodybuilding contest didn't start till later, so we wanted to see how fast the powerlifters were moving along, so that I'd get a chance to see Tommy compete against the Turk before I had to be on stage. As it turned out, the big ape-man had insisted that the superheavyweights compete first. The cocky beast knew that that's what everyone wanted to see anyway, and he was right, no one protested. Besides, there were only two superheavies entered in the competition, him and Tommy.

They started with bench pressing, and the Turk had his two cronies load the bar with 800 lbs. Despite being double his bodyweight, he pressed it out and slammed it back on the rack. The whole gym floor seemed to jump. He sat up triumphantly and slapped his hands together, causing chalk to fly off in a cloud. Tommy went next, but before he did, he and Ken added another 45-lb. plate to each side of the bar, bringing it to 890 lbs. Tommy pressed it out, but instead of slamming the bar down, he gently placed it back on the rack, displaying complete control of the weights. It was only now that the Turk paid any apparent notice to his opponent. He had his buddies load 20 lbs. to the bar, bringing it to 910lbs. He pressed that out, too, but you could tell that pushing it back up was a struggle. When he got up, Tommy and Ken loaded two more 45s, bringing the weight to 1000 lbs. Tommy's upper torso was so swollen by now, it looked like someone had blown him up with a bike pump. Ken and I helped him peel off his shirt, and there were several gasps from the audience as they saw the extreme development of the kid's chest. He pressed out the 1000 lbs., then stood up, and silently invited the Turk back to the bench with a hand gesture.

Now the big Turk had his two buddies peel his shirt off. He leaned over, outstretched his arms, and they tugged and tugged to pull it over his gargantuan size. Again, people gasped, as the massive powerlifter stood upright. His huge barrel chest was thick with black hair, yet you could still see how reddened his pecs had gotten from the heavy benching. But instead of heading to the bench, one of the Turk's buddies was pulling something out of their gym bag. I saw him walking over to the Turk with it.

"What's that?" I asked Ken.

"It's a lifting shirt. If they can get it on him, it should help him max out that 1000 lbs.," he said.

"Is that legal?"

"At this meet it is. Tommy never wanted to try one, said he wanted to lift clean."

We watched as the Turk's 295 lb. buddies forced the shirt over his head. Then it began to look like they were stuffing a massive beef sausage into too small a casing, as they struggled and struggled to pull the shirt over the Turk's bulk. When they finally managed to get it on, he looked like he was wearing a small sized shirt on his XXXXL torso. His arms stuck out nearly parallel to the ground, and his thick pecs heaved up so high that his chin rested on them. He waddled over to the bench and got down on it. His friend's added two 25 lbs. plates to the bar. He forced his arms up to the bar, lifted, and pressed the 1050 lbs. He slammed it down and sat up, his face all ruddy and his eyes bulging. He stood up and waddled back to his friends.

All Tommy would have to do is lift more than 1050 lbs. and he'd win the bench press. As he and Ken approached the weights, the entire crowd went silent as they each picked up a 100-lb. plate. They slid the plates onto the bar, bringing it to 1250lbs. The stunned crowd circled around closer, silent, except for an occasional "no way," or "holy shit" or some other awestruck utterance. Ken could barely contain his excitement as Tommy got on the bench. Still shirtless, he laid back and put his arms up on the bar, which was now bending at the ends. He lifted it slowly and steadily, lowered it until it tapped his massive swollen pecs, then racked it back up. The crowd went nuts, yelling and screaming, guys slapping each other on the backs, realizing that they'd just witnessed a world-record beating bench press. Ken was shaking Tommy's hand in victory as Arn and I walked over to congratulate him. In the midst of it all, we didn't notice the Turk pushing people out of the way as he approached. Tommy stood up off the bench to face him. Even in a crowd of big muscular men, the two men dwarfed everyone in size and power. Tommy put out his hand to shake with the Turk. The Turk looked down at Tommy's hand, but didn't offer his.

"You are faggot!" snarled the Turk in a deep, heavily accented voice.

"Whoa," I said, and took a step forward. Arn put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. "Tommy's got this one," he said.

Tommy said something back to the Turk that I didn't understand. "Was that Turkish?" asked Ken. Arn shook his head yes. From the look on the Turk's face, he understood it, as his eyes filled with rage. We would come to find out later that Tommy had said "I will fuck your mother up her ass, then make you suck my dick."

The two mega beasts stepped up to each other. Tommy's chest was so engorged that his pecs looked like they were sunburned. The Turk's chest had expanded so much that his lifting shirt had stretched to the point of being semi-transparent. They stood nose to nose, growling Turkish insults at each other, until the Turk took a swing at Tommy. Fortunately, his arms being so oversized, and his lifting shirt being so tight, his swing was slow, and Tommy blocked it with his forearm. Then he grabbed the Turk under his armpits, picked him 2 feet off the ground and tossed him backwards. The massive powerlifter stumbled as he landed, then fell onto his back, where he waddled around like a turtle, until his two buddies grabbed his arms and lifted him to his feet. Enraged, the Turk tossed them off him like he was swatting flies.

"I will crush you like bug," he said to Tommy. Then he reached up with his big hairy hands, and grabbed the neck of his lifting shirt. He pulled at it hard, and it stretched and stretched, till finally it ripped down the middle, and his ginormous ape chest expanded out, bigger than ever, and matted in sweat.

"Geezus," said Ken, as the Turk tossed aside his shredded shirt. "I didn't think you could tear that stuff."

Tommy stepped up to the Turk, and this time, instead of going nose to nose, they were going chest to chest, banging their massive pecs into each other like battering rams. Just as it looked like it was going to come to blows, Arn stepped in. He pushed the two big men arms-length apart.

"Let's just take it down a notch, guys," he said to them.

The Turk looked at Arn like he was going to tear his arm off, but there was something about Arn's demeanor that did seem to calm him down a notch. Must be a cop thing. And his big shirtless torso didn't hurt any either.

"He is cheat," the Turk said.

"Now, I don't think I saw anything that looked like cheating," Arn said to him like a patient father.

"He's just a sore loser," said Tommy.

Arn looked at him and said, "Listen, boy, sometimes people let their emotions get the better of them. Haven't you ever had that happen?" They both knew that it had, of course. "Now, you two galoots shake hands, and if you want to get in a wrestling match over this sometime, we'll set one up properly."

The big Turk grunted, but put his hand out. He and Tommy shook, and you could feel the tension settling down in the gym. Arn came walking over to me, and by the time he got here, Tommy and the Turk were chatting with each other in Turkish. Pretty soon, I heard the big Turk laugh, and the two of them headed out of the gym with their huge arms around each other's shoulders.

"What just happened?" I said to Arn.

"You know how Tommy can turn on the charm," he said with a grin.

"Yeah, I do. How is it that he knows how to speak Turkish so well?"

"That's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you tonight, after the show."

"The show!" I said. "I gotta get over there...."

The competition went like I expected. I was way more advanced than any of the other guys, and I won the light heavyweight division and the overall. I had no real competition like Tommy had, but it was fun, and a lot of the guys came up to me and wanted to know what my secret was for making so much progress in one year. I didn't tell them that most of the progress had taken place in the last four weeks, or that I wasn't exactly sure what the secret was myself. I was too busy enjoying the win.

Later that day was the Masters' show, and Arn had no real competition either, taking both the heavyweight title and the overall. The place was packed, since word had gotten out that he was Tommy's granddad. The buzz going around was that Tommy was the new strongest man on earth, and everyone was jacked to know that they were there to see him at his first comp. They went wild when they saw Arn on stage, looking better than most pro bodybuilders. The old man ate it up, I could see him beaming up there on stage.

After the show, I got a text from Tommy saying that he and the Turk had gone off to talk muscle and power together. Uh huh...sure they had, I thought with a smirk. He wanted to know if we could go pick up his gym bag, he'd left it behind at the gym. Arn and I went over to see if we could find it. When we got there, the place had pretty much been cleaned out. Except that in the middle of the floor, the bench that Tommy and the Turk had used was still there, and still loaded with 1250 lbs.

"That's weird," I said, as we walked over to it. Just then, Ken came in, talking on his cell.

"Hey guys, I hear you both won today, congratulations. I had them leave this bench set up, I'm trying to get someone from the IPF to come witness Tommy's lift," he said nodding toward the phone at his ear. "I'm on hold....oh, wait," he said, and he walked out as he started talking to someone on the phone.

"That's cool as hell," I said, watching Ken walk out. When I turned back to Arn, he was straddling the bench, facing the bar.

"Yeah, that sounds great," he said. Then he put his hands on the bar, lifted it up, and curled it for 5 reps. He put the bar back down, turned around and faced me. I stepped back in awe.....and fear. "You know, I was thinking...that trophy you won today? That should really be mine, don't ya think?"

"What do you mean?" I said, my heart pounding hard.

"Well, I found out during the show, that the Masters division is separate from the main show, so the winner can't take the overall spot. But I'm thinking, if we had a posedown together, I'd take you." He had an evil glint in his blue eyes, and it was scaring me, and turning me on at the same time. He clenched his fists and twisted them, making his massive fores and bi's bunch and swell. Bi's that had just curled 1250 lbs. "Maybe we should just wrestle for that top prize trophy of yours."

"That's ok, you can have it," I said.

"Nah, I think we should wrestle for it." He walked toward me. "I'll put one arm behind my back," he said, and when he did, it just made him look stronger, and more menacing. "Why don't we go back to my place, and wrestle for top place?" he said with a smirk. "Besides, you're overdue for an orgasm." He grabbed my crotch and gave it a squeeze.

"Aww, goddam, you old fuckerrr," I groaned.

"Oh, yeah, that's me alright," he said as he led me out of the gym.

I forgot all about Tommy's gym bag.

The End

[boardman]

13 hours ago, arpeejay said:

Part 13: Finale

Tommy and I got to the powerlifting competition early, but there were already other competitors there. Some of them were helping the staff lay down mats and place the benches, bars, and weights were they had to go. Ken was already there too, helping out, so we went over to him and pitched in our help. Word had gotten out that there was a new kid who was going to challenge the Turk in the superheavyweight division, and I could feel the buzz going around the gymnasium as guys nodded over toward Tommy as they realized that he must be the one. Even in a room filled with big strapping men, Tommy stood out. And when he picked up a weight tree loaded with 100-lb. plates and moved it to the other side of the floor, he stood out even more.

 

It wasn't long before the gym began to fill with more competitors and their buddies and families. I'd never seen so many beefed up guys in one place. Unlike the bodybuilding shows I'd done, where the guys had dieted down to be as tight as possible, these guys were bulked up with power. Even the 'smaller' guys had big thick squat butts and humungous quads for their size. The gym was beginning to smell of testosterone and Sportscreme, as the powerlifters began to warm up with 'light' weights of 225 lbs. and up. And the buzz about Tommy got even bigger. None of the lifters liked the Turk. He had beaten all the other heavyweights with ease, so none of them could stand him, but even the smaller guys hated him for his arrogant attitude. Some of them had even gotten into scuffles with him, but it always ended badly for them. The Turk was strong and mean. Ken told us that he'd started Turkish oil wrestling when he was 14, and even at that age, was beating full grown men with relative ease. It made him cocky as hell. When he was 16, he was banned from Turkish oil wrestling for hurting too many of his opponents. That's when he turned to powerlifting. By the time he was 18 he was 250lbs of Herculean power and he came to the United States. He got a job making 'collections' for a local loan shark. He spent his free time lifting and slabbing on tremendous size and strength for his work and for powerlifting meets, where he loved nothing more than totally domination. Now, at a bulked up 400 lbs. of Turkish muscle, no one had been able to give him a challenge. Until today.

 

Suddenly, there was some commotion at one end of the gymnasium. "He must be here," said Ken. And he was right. A set of double doors opened up at one end of the gym, and two big dudes, probably both 280+, walked in, both carrying big gym bags. They held the doors for the Turk, who waddled in like an overfed king. He was so massive, he made his two cronies look small. He probably had a 45-inch rounded out musclegut, but it was balanced out by his 75-inch chest. And by his enormous legs. My god, his legs. Monstrous, thick, super ape-hairy legs. No wonder he waddled. He had to swing those beast thighs around each other with every step. His body hair jutted up around the collar of his tee shirt, both in front and in back. He had hairy ape arms, hairy knuckles, even hairy ears, and not just sprouting out from the inside, but even the tops of his ears had coarse black hair jutting out like fly hairs. He was ugly and brutish, but his size made him intimidating, and people parted out of his way as he walked thru the gym. And I hated it, but he turned me on. I couldn't help but stare at his huge squat butt as he waddled by us. The most monstrous ass I'd ever seen, even bigger than Tommy's, wider and thicker, and it was vastly highlighted by the lifting shorts he had on, the legs of which were making red rings on the skin of his massive thighs as they slid up a little with every step he took, exposing more monster mass and thick black hair. The seat of his lifting shorts had a wide vertical stripe of ass sweat staining thru it, as it got swallowed up in the deep cavern of muscle where his glutes met up in the back. I must have been staring too long, thinking of burying my face in that dark funky chasm of superheavyweight powerlifter ass, because Tommy slapped me upside the head.

 

"We're here to beat that guy, remember?" he said to me.

 

"Who are you again?" I said, rubbing my head.

 

Tommy rolled his eyes, then continued to warm up, with Ken's help.

 

"I have to go sign in," I said, adjusting my cock so it wouldn't chub up anymore to the hideous freak mass monster that was the Turk. "I'll be back." As I headed to the auditorium where the bodybuilding contest was going to be, I ran into Arn. He had a tank top on and it showed off his ultra-wide shoulder span. I could see all three heads of his delts rippling with muscle. Then I noticed that his chest hair had already started to show. "Man, you got stubble," I said to him.

 

He looked down at his big pecs and said, "Yeah, I shoulda realized that would happen, given how fast my beard grows back in. Two hours after a shave, and I got shadow showing. Feel," he said, and he grabbed my hand and put it under the strap of his tank. He rubbed my hand on his pec, and his chest stubble was bristly as a wire brush. "You think they'll take points off for it?" he asked.

 

"I'm not sure...maybe," I said, cupping the hefty weight of his stone-hard pec. I let my thumb flick over his jutting nipple.

 

"Aw, careful, Joe," Arn groaned, "those bad boys have been aching for attention since you shaved my chest last night." And I could see his bullet nip jutting out farther. "Funny thing is, the slightest touch makes them respond, but they're so tough, you could also take a pair of pliers to them and it still gets me off." He reached up and grabbed his nips and twisted them hard. "Damn that's good," he said. We started walking down the hallway, past a row of office doors. Arn stopped at a door that said "Coach Griffin" on it. "Let's check this room out for a second," he said. He twisted the doorknob, and I could tell that it was locked.

 

"It's the weekend, Arn, nobody's in." Then I heard metal crack as Arn twisted the doorknob so hard that the lock broke and the door opened up.

 

"Looks like the coach forgot to lock up," said Arn, pulling me inside. He kicked the door shut and grabbed me. "I was thinking of you all night, boy," he said, wrapping his arms around me tight. "I woke up hard as steel thinking of you. Chew on these nips for a while before I lose my mind." He didn't have to ask me twice. I started gnawing on his fleshy nips, and the harder I gnawed, the harder he moaned. He undid his pants and his cock popped out, arching up toward his abs like a satyr's. He reached around and grabbed my glutes. "You got a hotter ass than a Russian stripper, boy," he said, as we stumbled up against the coach's desk and made it slide up against the wall. "I gotta tap that hard," he said. He reached down and swept everything off the desk with his big arm.

 

"I thought you said I should wait till after the contest," I said.

 

"I said you should wait, I didn't say anything about me," then he lifted me up and slammed my back onto the desktop. The only light coming into the room was from around the door, which wasn't fully shut because Arn had crushed the knob. It was enough light for me to see Arn's upper body rippling with thick muscle as he reached down and undid my pants, pulling them off me. He put his big hands on my quads and gripped them hard. "You've gotten a lot bigger since we met, haven't you, Joe?" I shook my head yes. I'd gained over three inches on my quads alone. It felt awesome feeling that extra mass on them as Arn massaged them roughly. He pushed my legs apart and upward. He had me bent nearly double when he climbed up on top of me. I heard the metal legs of the desk squeak at the extra weight of him. He spit in his hand and lubed himself up. He stopped for a second, then said, "Even better..." and he reached over to a shelf on the wall and pulled off a bottle of Purell. He lubed himself up with that and groaned with pleasure. Then he squirted it into my ass crack and started rubbing it in with his big fingers. It was icy cold on my hole, but was an amazing sensation, especially when he shoved in two of his fingers and worked them around. I got goosebumps up and down my body as he loosened me up. He squirted more Purell down there, which felt cold and hot at the same time somehow. It made my butthole twitch hard on his fingers. "Oh, yeah," he said. "You ready for the real deal?" he asked me, as he covered his dick with more Purell. I shook my head yes. He guided his arched prong into me and started pumping. I never thought I would get into this at all, but as he pounded into me harder and harder, we got into a rhythm, and the pleasure of feeling his power inside me grew and grew. We even started grunting in rhythm...Uhh uhh uhh...as the two of us became one. He lifted me up into him on the desk, allowing him to plunge deeper into me, and as I dug my fingers into the thick muscularity of his sweaty back, I almost blacked out from the ecstasy of the moment. I wanted more than anything to blow my load on his bristly 8-pack, and as if sensing how close I was, Arn growled out, "Don't you cum." I arched my head back and sat deeper onto his big arching cock. It took everything I had not to let my jizz fly like a geyser. It was almost painful, holding it back, but also intensely erotic. I felt his hard-on pushing my prostate to the side as it burrowed inside me deeper and deeper. He pounded into me harder, bouncing me up and down like a toy, making the desk buck and creak. Finally, he pushed me down hard on top of his dick, let go of me, so he was supporting me with his hard-on. He reached back and gripped the desk, arched his ass upward, and came inside me. As he blew his load in me, he gripped the edges of the desk so hard they snapped off in his fingers. He leaned forward, lowering my back onto the desktop as he continued to thrust, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. When he finally pulled out of me, he tore his tank top in two, and threw one half to me.

 

"Wipe me down," he said, and I used the torn tank to mop up the sweat on his muscular shredded chest and back. Then I wiped off his still-hard dick, and as I did, he grabbed my hand and rubbed it up and down his shaft roughly. Then he took the other half of his tank and rubbed me down good and hard with it.

 

"Now, where do we sign in?" he asked, tossing his used-up shirt into the wastebasket in the corner.

 

After the sign-in, Arn and I headed back to Tommy. The bodybuilding contest didn't start till later, so we wanted to see how fast the powerlifters were moving along, so that I'd get a chance to see Tommy compete against the Turk before I had to be on stage. As it turned out, the big ape-man had insisted that the superheavyweights compete first. The cocky beast knew that that's what everyone wanted to see anyway, and he was right, no one protested. Besides, there were only two superheavies entered in the competition, him and Tommy.

 

They started with bench pressing, and the Turk had his two cronies load the bar with 800 lbs. Despite being double his bodyweight, he pressed it out and slammed it back on the rack. The whole gym floor seemed to jump. He sat up triumphantly and slapped his hands together, causing chalk to fly off in a cloud. Tommy went next, but before he did, he and Ken added another 45-lb. plate to each side of the bar, bringing it to 890 lbs. Tommy pressed it out, but instead of slamming the bar down, he gently placed it back on the rack, displaying complete control of the weights. It was only now that the Turk paid any apparent notice to his opponent. He had his buddies load 20 lbs. to the bar, bringing it to 910lbs. He pressed that out, too, but you could tell that pushing it back up was a struggle. When he got up, Tommy and Ken loaded two more 45s, bringing the weight to 1000 lbs. Tommy's upper torso was so swollen by now, it looked like someone had blown him up with a bike pump. Ken and I helped him peel off his shirt, and there were several gasps from the audience as they saw the extreme development of the kid's chest. He pressed out the 1000 lbs., then stood up, and silently invited the Turk back to the bench with a hand gesture.

 

Now the big Turk had his two buddies peel his shirt off. He leaned over, outstretched his arms, and they tugged and tugged to pull it over his gargantuan size. Again, people gasped, as the massive powerlifter stood upright. His huge barrel chest was thick with black hair, yet you could still see how reddened his pecs had gotten from the heavy benching. But instead of heading to the bench, one of the Turk's buddies was pulling something out of their gym bag. I saw him walking over to the Turk with it.

 

"What's that?" I asked Ken.

 

"It's a lifting shirt. If they can get it on him, it should help him max out that 1000 lbs.," he said.

 

"Is that legal?"

 

"At this meet it is. Tommy never wanted to try one, said he wanted to lift clean."

 

We watched as the Turk's 295 lb. buddies forced the shirt over his head. Then it began to look like they were stuffing a massive beef sausage into too small a casing, as they struggled and struggled to pull the shirt over the Turk's bulk. When they finally managed to get it on, he looked like he was wearing a small sized shirt on his XXXXL torso. His arms stuck out nearly parallel to the ground, and his thick pecs heaved up so high that his chin rested on them. He waddled over to the bench and got down on it. His friend's added two 25 lbs. plates to the bar. He forced his arms up to the bar, lifted, and pressed the 1050 lbs. He slammed it down and sat up, his face all ruddy and his eyes bulging. He stood up and waddled back to his friends.

 

All Tommy would have to do is lift more than 1050 lbs. and he'd win the bench press. As he and Ken approached the weights, the entire crowd went silent as they each picked up a 100-lb. plate. They slid the plates onto the bar, bringing it to 1250lbs. The stunned crowd circled around closer, silent, except for an occasional "no way," or "holy shit" or some other awestruck utterance. Ken could barely contain his excitement as Tommy got on the bench. Still shirtless, he laid back and put his arms up on the bar, which was now bending at the ends. He lifted it slowly and steadily, lowered it until it tapped his massive swollen pecs, then racked it back up. The crowd went nuts, yelling and screaming, guys slapping each other on the backs, realizing that they'd just witnessed a world-record beating bench press. Ken was shaking Tommy's hand in victory as Arn and I walked over to congratulate him. In the midst of it all, we didn't notice the Turk pushing people out of the way as he approached. Tommy stood up off the bench to face him. Even in a crowd of big muscular men, the two men dwarfed everyone in size and power. Tommy put out his hand to shake with the Turk. The Turk looked down at Tommy's hand, but didn't offer his.

 

"You are faggot!" snarled the Turk in a deep, heavily accented voice.

 

"Whoa," I said, and took a step forward. Arn put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. "Tommy's got this one," he said.

 

Tommy said something back to the Turk that I didn't understand. "Was that Turkish?" asked Ken. Arn shook his head yes. From the look on the Turk's face, he understood it, as his eyes filled with rage. We would come to find out later that Tommy had said "I will fuck your mother up her ass, then make you suck my dick."

 

The two mega beasts stepped up to each other. Tommy's chest was so engorged that his pecs looked like they were sunburned. The Turk's chest had expanded so much that his lifting shirt had stretched to the point of being semi-transparent. They stood nose to nose, growling Turkish insults at each other, until the Turk took a swing at Tommy. Fortunately, his arms being so oversized, and his lifting shirt being so tight, his swing was slow, and Tommy blocked it with his forearm. Then he grabbed the Turk under his armpits, picked him 2 feet off the ground and tossed him backwards. The massive powerlifter stumbled as he landed, then fell onto his back, where he waddled around like a turtle, until his two buddies grabbed his arms and lifted him to his feet. Enraged, the Turk tossed them off him like he was swatting flies.

 

"I will crush you like bug," he said to Tommy. Then he reached up with his big hairy hands, and grabbed the neck of his lifting shirt. He pulled at it hard, and it stretched and stretched, till finally it ripped down the middle, and his ginormous ape chest expanded out, bigger than ever, and matted in sweat.

 

"Geezus," said Ken, as the Turk tossed aside his shredded shirt. "I didn't think you could tear that stuff."

 

Tommy stepped up to the Turk, and this time, instead of going nose to nose, they were going chest to chest, banging their massive pecs into each other like battering rams. Just as it looked like it was going to come to blows, Arn stepped in. He pushed the two big men arms-length apart.

 

"Let's just take it down a notch, guys," he said to them.

 

The Turk looked at Arn like he was going to tear his arm off, but there was something about Arn's demeanor that did seem to calm him down a notch. Must be a cop thing. And his big shirtless torso didn't hurt any either.

 

"He is cheat," the Turk said.

 

"Now, I don't think I saw anything that looked like cheating," Arn said to him like a patient father.

 

"He's just a sore loser," said Tommy.

 

Arn looked at him and said, "Listen, boy, sometimes people let their emotions get the better of them. Haven't you ever had that happen?" They both knew that it had, of course. "Now, you two galoots shake hands, and if you want to get in a wrestling match over this sometime, we'll set one up properly."

 

The big Turk grunted, but put his hand out. He and Tommy shook, and you could feel the tension settling down in the gym. Arn came walking over to me, and by the time he got here, Tommy and the Turk were chatting with each other in Turkish. Pretty soon, I heard the big Turk laugh, and the two of them headed out of the gym with their huge arms around each other's shoulders.

 

"What just happened?" I said to Arn.

 

"You know how Tommy can turn on the charm," he said with a grin.

 

"Yeah, I do. How is it that he knows how to speak Turkish so well?"

 

"That's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you tonight, after the show."

 

"The show!" I said. "I gotta get over there...."

 

The competition went like I expected. I was way more advanced than any of the other guys, and I won the light heavyweight division and the overall. I had no real competition like Tommy had, but it was fun, and a lot of the guys came up to me and wanted to know what my secret was for making so much progress in one year. I didn't tell them that most of the progress had taken place in the last four weeks, or that I wasn't exactly sure what the secret was myself. I was too busy enjoying the win.

 

Later that day was the Masters' show, and Arn had no real competition either, taking both the heavyweight title and the overall. The place was packed, since word had gotten out that he was Tommy's granddad. The buzz going around was that Tommy was the new strongest man on earth, and everyone was jacked to know that they were there to see him at his first comp. They went wild when they saw Arn on stage, looking better than most pro bodybuilders. The old man ate it up, I could see him beaming up there on stage.

 

After the show, I got a text from Tommy saying that he and the Turk had gone off to talk muscle and power together. Uh huh...sure they had, I thought with a smirk. He wanted to know if we could go pick up his gym bag, he'd left it behind at the gym. Arn and I went over to see if we could find it. When we got there, the place had pretty much been cleaned out. Except that in the middle of the floor, the bench that Tommy and the Turk had used was still there, and still loaded with 1250 lbs.

 

"That's weird," I said, as we walked over to it. Just then, Ken came in, talking on his cell.

 

"Hey guys, I hear you both won today, congratulations. I had them leave this bench set up, I'm trying to get someone from the IPF to come witness Tommy's lift," he said nodding toward the phone at his ear. "I'm on hold....oh, wait," he said, and he walked out as he started talking to someone on the phone.

 

"That's cool as hell," I said, watching Ken walk out. When I turned back to Arn, he was straddling the bench, facing the bar.

 

"Yeah, that sounds great," he said. Then he put his hands on the bar, lifted it up, and curled it for 5 reps. He put the bar back down, turned around and faced me. I stepped back in awe.....and fear. "You know, I was thinking...that trophy you won today? That should really be mine, don't ya think?"

 

"What do you mean?" I said, my heart pounding hard.

 

"Well, I found out during the show, that the Masters division is separate from the main show, so the winner can't take the overall spot. But I'm thinking, if we had a posedown together, I'd take you." He had an evil glint in his blue eyes, and it was scaring me, and turning me on at the same time. He clenched his fists and twisted them, making his massive fores and bi's bunch and swell. Bi's that had just curled 1250 lbs. "Maybe we should just wrestle for that top prize trophy of yours."

 

"That's ok, you can have it," I said.

 

"Nah, I think we should wrestle for it." He walked toward me. "I'll put one arm behind my back," he said, and when he did, it just made him look stronger, and more menacing. "Why don't we go back to my place, and wrestle for top place?" he said with a smirk. "Besides, you're overdue for an orgasm." He grabbed my crotch and gave it a squeeze.

 

"Aww, goddam, you old fuckerrr," I groaned.

 

"Oh, yeah, that's me alright," he said as he led me out of the gym.

 

I forgot all about Tommy's gym bag.

 

The End

 

Wow that was hot