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EBFs and Size Freaks (Part 9 posted, June 13th)


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Part 6 coming tomorrow (May 20). Lee and Umberto's date, with some surprises thrown in 😉

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  • LORUS changed the title to EBFs and Size Freaks (Part 6 posted, May 20th))


Keith gazed out of a window and looked down upon Bridge Street. On this bright  summer evening the warehouse apartment was in clear view from his flat. He had just finished masturbating to the amazing sight of an even larger Umberto looking dapper in his button-up muscle shirt, bow tie and “spray on” dress pants. He thought that his neighbour Lee looked like a matchstick compared to the muscle-god. The incident with the e-scooter bloke was hot as hell, as there seemed to be no end to how strong Umberto was capable of becoming. The question remained:


“What does that skinny prick have that I don’t?”


Keith was annoyed that Umberto had made him hide in the bathroom the night before, whilst the bodybuilder dealt with Lee and Sam’s predicament. But he was still in awe of his own muscle gain. His dick was now bigger, too, and way better to wank with. He reached for a tissue to wipe fresh spunk off his window pane. He’d heard only parts of the conversation between Umberto and his nocturnal visitors. It didn’t make sense. Or did it?


He took a pill out of the bag of pills he’d swiped from the warehouse apartment. He held it in his palm and just gazed at it for what felt like a small age. Even a single pill gave off the same reek as Umberto’s massive muscles. He added a second pill to his palm. Then a third. The smell got stronger. Keith closed his eyes and imagined Umberto in the room with him. He quickly grew hard again, excited by his now turbocharged libido.


“Fuck it,” he said and swallowed the three pills at once. Then he lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. He had no idea what was going to happen. But it could only lead to bigger and better things for him.



John the bodybuilder had just finished one of the best workouts he’d ever had over at Keilly’s. He lifted heavier than his best, and with even more sets for longer reps. He had an insatiable thirst for growing his muscles, and his energy and stamina fed him the power to make that happen. Other regulars to the shittiest gym in town quickly took notice. It wasn’t just John’s furious approach to training that caught their attention, but also how much better he looked and even smelled.


Underneath his shirt, the tattered remains of Umberto’s plaid shirt soaked up John’s own musk and sweat. It fed off these particles and improved on them. Soon John was reeking so much, one of the other bodybuilders nearest to him felt his eyes water.


On the bench, a power-lifter named Nigel offered John a spot. The bar was sagging from so much weight on either end.


“Fuck off, Nigel. I’m not here to talk,” John snarled, his attitude bad as ever.


“Hey man, pardon me for being friendly. You’re looking huge, is all. No offence, man,” Nigel apologised.


“I said… FUCK OFF!!!!!” John returned the weight to the rack and shot up off the bench. His upper body bulged obscenely. His shirt looked and felt tighter than before. He adjusted his lifting belt to make it fit more snugly, pleased that it had loosened a little as his workout progressed. His waist had tightened, and what was left of his roid gut was gone completely. He decided to do some deadlifts. By the time he was finished, a crowd had gathered around him. There were looks of consternation on all of their faces. John angrily flung the bar to the floor, causing it to bounce twice before settling to a stop.




“Dude, what shit are you on,” one of the bodybuilders, his face aghast, plucked up the courage to ask.


It was then that John realised he was growing at an alarming rate. His muscles were on the verge of bursting through his shirt. Fuck it, he opened his belt and threw it to the floor. Then he grabbed hold of the shirt and ripped it apart, exposing an even more tattered shirt underneath. It hung from his burgeoning body like strands of wet linguini. John flared his lats and flexed his much larger pectorals. He felt energised like never before. It emboldened him. It made him want to lift heavier and to grow a lot more. But what about after that? What then? There were other pleasures in need of satiation.


Before he’d started taking dangerous shortcuts along the bodybuilding highway, he had no problem satisfying women. As the years progressed and the steroid abuse got more and more severe, keeping the ladies happy had become an arduous chore. But now… no more Viagra would ever pass his lips. Alas, he felt like he’d now break a girl, ruining her ability to ever again feel pleasure from a man’s penis. He knew that all their girly-whining during the act would quickly get on his nerves.  He was so much more powerful now. Plus, there were no women in the gym. He was suddenly horny as hell, purely boned up at the thought of his newfound strength and growing muscles. There was only one solution to this. And it came when something new switched on in his brain, something that had been lying dormant inside him… until now.


His body radiated a visible heat haze caused by the rapid changes he was undergoing. His audience breathed it in, and it drove them into a frenzy.
Maury, the owner of the gym appeared from out of his office in the back.


“What’s going on here?” He broke through the audience and his eyes popped wider when he saw the hulk that stood before him.


“Jeezus, John… what the fuck are you shootin’ up these days? You’re fucking enormous. And taller too. A lot taller. You have these fellers all horny for ya.” And then to Hector, another bodybuilder, “Hector put your pecker away. Save that shit for the alley out back.”


John paid him no attention. His growth subsided and his body stopped giving off muscle-stink. He found himself gazing down at the other bodybuilders. He was at least a head taller than Holt, the tallest bodybuilder on the floor who stood six feet one inch tall.


There was no time to question his sexuality after years of not being able to ‘perform’ the sexual act due to impotence. That was the old John. He didn’t exist anymore. He singled out Holt because he was the biggest of the rest.


“You, Holt, is it? Hit the showers now,” John growled. He did a full lat spread and his upper body puffed up hugely. Boners galore began to make themselves known.


Holt didn’t have to be told twice. He was already leaking precum at the sight of how huge and beautiful John had become. His arousal wasn’t normally directed at guys. Holt had a fiancé of two years who was six months pregnant with their first child. But he couldn’t help himself. John’s stink was incredibly arousing. And his muscles… wow… he had transformed into a fantastically beautiful human being in just a few minutes.


John muscle-waddled after Holt. Other bodybuilders made to follow, but he held them back with a gesture of warning. “You’ll all get a turn, as long as no one pisses me off. I’m not staying in this shithole after today. Gridiron is gonna be my new gym. I’m big enough to train there now… probably one of the biggest, too.” And to emphasise this, John tore off his shorts, revealing a jockstrap that was stretched near to ripping point, now that his junk was four or five times bigger than before.


Holt stood under the warm shower spray, his dick as hard as a pole. John joined him, removing the remnant of Umberto Morelli’s shirt from his now massive body. It landed on the floor and was soon saturated with water. The smell diminished somewhat, but John was still horny as hell. Holt’s back was to John, and so John began inhaling Holt’s scent and licking the muscles of his back, enjoying the distinct points of separation between the muscles- groups. He used one hand to reach down and pull himself off, whilst the other went around to Holt’s front to feel up his pecs.


“Uhhh… so good,” Holt gasped.


“Don’t talk or I’ll break your fucking neck,” John returned. With awesome strength he controlled Holt like a puppet, manhandling him with minimal effort. He made him turn around under the spray and then applied force to his head, pushing it down towards his now massive prick. Holt didn’t resist. In fact, he found John’s rough treatment of him extremely hot.


Holt began to suck on the biggest dick he’d ever seen, gasping for air in between moments that made him gag until he’d grown accustomed to having such a big amount of meat in his mouth. He’d never sucked a guy off before, but he took to it like he’d been doing it for years. However, instead of John finding it pleasurable, it was as though Holt’s mouth just wasn’t big enough to satisfy a monster cock.


“Stand up,” he ordered. Holt was only too keen to take this further.


“Turn around and spread ‘em,” John instructed.


Holt assumed the position and John inserted his wet member into Holt’s tight muscle-butt. The smaller bodybuilder winced from the initial sensation. But bodybuilders are adept at breaking through the pain barrier in their pursuit of bigger and bigger muscles, and Holt quickly adapted. John proceeded to pound his hole with vigour and strength, liking how Holt was only too eager to push back with all the strength he had.


John fucked Holt with ever-increasing intensity. It annoyed him that he was nowhere near cumming, as he really wanted to release his spunk so he could get the fuck out of the place and head over to Gridiron. He closed his eyes and imagined Holt was a woman, and this helped a little. Holt had very little body hair on him, so that also helped the illusion to stick. But he still couldn’t bring on an orgasm. Then he thought about his brother Nicholas. How he hated him. Nicholas wasn’t even his real brother, having been adopted as a baby by their parents when John was just two years old. No blood ties there whatsoever. He thought about doing to Nicholas what he was doing to Holt right now. And John suddenly felt a further surge of power as his muscles and dick acquired more size and weight.


Holt tried to stifle his screams, but it was impossible. So many sensations, some of which were utterly pleasurable, surged through him at once. He was getting fucked by a god of muscle and power. He never wanted this moment to end. He clenched his glutes as tightly as he could, lending John’s member more purchase.


But the moment was not to last when John eventually blew, causing a hefty and unnatural amount of jizz to gush through Holt’s insides.  “Yeaaahhh… fuck you Nicholas. You’re not the boss of me,” John exclaimed loudly. Holt also shot his load, albeit a miniscule amount compared to John’s torrent now sloshing around inside him.


And that was it. The two men said nothing as they finished showering. Holt wanted to ask who Nicholas was, but decided not to rile the bigger man. John picked up the sodden remains of the shirt off the floor and wrung it out. It had been washed clean of Umberto’s stink, which should have alarmed John. But it didn’t. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be needing it anymore. He tossed it into a garbage bin on his way out.




The restaurant was only at half capacity, which suited Umberto, as he hoped his first date with Lee wouldn’t be a crowded one.  It was quite the plush affair, with diners sharply turned out in suits and cocktail dresses. The restaurant manager immediately approached the dating pair with a modicum of disapproval showing on his face.


“Ah, Signor Morelli, we have your usual table ready for you, if you would like to follow me.” He gestured to them to enter with a flowing sweep of a white-gloved hand. Umberto was much larger, now, since his last visit. The manager was worried the special reinforced chair reserved exclusively for the restaurant’s most muscular client might not support him like it used to before.


“Thank you, Luigi. I’m here with my boyfriend Lee. And I hope you have enough cooks back there. This bodybuilder is very, VERY hungry tonight.” Umberto brought up his sleeveless arms into a massive double biceps pose. Ball biceps, at least forty inches around, ballooned into being. Luigi gasped, as did several of the diners, aghast at the sight of the muscle-god.


“Oh my, Signor Morelli. I hope we don’t run out of our specialities tonight,” said Luigi, chewing his lip beneath a waxy black handlebar moustache that made him look like a villain from a silent movie.


“And just to make sure my shirt meets your dress code, check out the back,” Umberto boasted, doing a 180-dregree turn. He then pressed his knuckles and thumb tips into the sides of his waist and fanned out the biggest lat spread he’d ever displayed so far. To Lee he looked even bigger than he was upon leaving his apartment for the walk to Timpani Street. The central strip of shirt material down the middle shrank to shoelace thickness, and the turquoise ribbing connecting back and front of the shirt groaned in defiance of the strain he was applying to them. His shoulders seemed to widen even as his waist appeared to tighten slightly. He also flexed his muscle-buttocks, increasing its bubble shape and putting enough pressure on the seat of his pants to the point where buttons threatened to pop off his rear pocket flaps.


“I have so much flesh on show, Luigi… it might appear that I obscenely fall short of what you would call ‘appropriate dining attire’. But look at the fucking size of me? How can I ever begin to conceal all this muscle? Just look at me, and be shocked at how  much bodybuilding I have on display. I’m constantly bodybuilding, even when I’m not killing it in the gym. I am a bodybuilder and I WILL show my muscles!!!” A tad bit arrogant of Umberto, nonetheless, Luigi didn’t take offence and hid his erection with a menu. Lee kept quiet for the moment, instead enjoying his new boyfriend’s display of beauty and power. The monster dick behind his EBFs began to torment his straining button-fly.


“Erm… it would appear that you just about meet the restaurant’s minimum standards of dress, Signor. Allow me to show you to your table,” the fawningly stunned Luigi managed to say without chewing his lip off. 


And then to the diners nearest to the restaurant foyer, Umberto did another full lat spread, this time trying to see if he could burst the buttons down his shirt, just for fun, of course. The diners were two men enjoying some kind of pasta dish with red wine. They were clearly a couple, and before Umberto showed up to give them a free muscle show, they’d only had eyes for each other. That changed in a trice.


Umberto bulked up his upper body to titanic proportions. His muscle bust exploded with size, weight, and so many rippling striations. The upper pectoral masses pushed upwards and upwards, forcing him to move his head back, which in turn made his neck double in width. His upper pecs completely devoured his bow tie, which was under a terrible strain to stay fastened. This time the button-flap breast pockets of the shirt not only shifted to a horizontal state, but they actually almost folded back on themselves, as his bodybuilt bosoms screamed for escape. Fortunato was an excellent tailor. He knew how to make garments that ever-growing bodybuilders could get a decent amount of wear out of before they jumped up another size or two. Although exceptionally wide gaps appeared between the buttons exposing more of Umberto’s golden bronze skin tone, every button held fast. The gay dining couple instantly grew hard, one of whom actually came there and then in his pants.


“Lat spread… lat spread… latissimus dorsi muscles widening and thickening, ballooning beyond belief, yeaaaaah!” Umberto had once again been swept away by his often uncontrollable muscle lust. And then, to Lee…


“Fuck it… I want you to EBF my pants right here, right now. I need the extra lust to help my appetite grow, along with everything else.”


Finally breaking his silence, his cock now yearning for release from the cramped confines of his exposed button-fly dress pants: “But I don’t have scissors with me, Umberto.”


Luigi appeared confused. “Er… Signor, what is this ‘EBFing’ Signor Morelli speaks of?”


Lee pushed his pelvis forward, making sure his crotch caught adequate light from the subdued lighting pervading the dining area. “See? The button-fly isn’t concealed. I had these specially made, but if I had something sharp, maybe a fillet knife or something like that, I can fulfil my huge boyfriend’s request. He really likes how they look. He’s caught up in muscle lust and also the lust for EBFs,” Lee explained.


“Oh, I see. Quite bohemian, Signor. I will check with Chef in the kitchen and be right back,” said Luigi, scuttling away like a frightened crab.


“Yep, boho style… that’s what we like,” Lee winked, enjoying his boyfriend showing off to everyone present. Three male diners from other tables suddenly got up and made beelines for the men's room, leaving their wives or girlfriends dumbfounded at such a display of brutish masculinity.


Not one for keeping the most muscular client waiting, Luigi soon came back with the fillet knife. It was scalpel sharp, and this pleased Lee. 


“Ok, Umberto, this won’t hurt. Just keep still, hold your full lat spread pose and I’ll gently nick around the fly for you and snip off the placket concealing your buttons,” Lee instructed.


“No wait, my skinny little hunk of gorgeousness. I want to burst out of this shirt. Fuck dress codes… I’ll dine bare-chested in just my soon to be exposed button-fly bodybuilder pants. Make them slutty for your big slutty muscle-god. TIME FOR THE BIGGEST FULL LAT SPREAD EVER!!!!”


Umberto widened his stance, throwing his head back even further. Veins thick as gas pipes bulged out of his neck, causing some threads to snap along the strip part of the bow tie. He rolled out his arms and deltoids, fanning his lats to further increase his blood flow. Then he slowly brought his arms down to connect with his waist. His forearms were now as thick as a light-heavyweight bodybuilder’s thighs, making it difficult for him to generate the movement necessary to pop the pose. But he endured, commanding incredible effort and power over his muscles. He could almost feel and hear his bones shifting and adjusting to create more room for his muscles to expand in every direction possible.




It wasn’t a metazenic growth spurt, but rather force of will alone that caused Umberto’s upper body to pack on even more crazy mass. The gaps between the buttons on his shirt widened further, to a point where each one could clearly accommodate a man’s fist. The buttons on his breast pockets pinged off like 9mm bullets, all four of them shooting upwards, two of which ricocheted off a chandelier. One plopped into a man’s spaghetti, but he was too busy wanking off in the toilets, but he’d probably be choking on it later.




Lee was so turned on, likewise Luigi. But Lee could contain his lust, knowing deep in his heart that Umberto was now his, and vice versa. They’d only known each other a couple of days, but it was enough. There’d be plenty of time for blowing his load later. For now, he had work to do.


“Hold that pose, my gorgeous, fucking beautiful monster bodybuilder,” Lee chimed, getting down on one knee to get at Umberto’s crotch. To his delight, when he pulled away the concealing placket of the pants, the buttons were white, enamel-coated, and embossed with the “House of Trione” motif. The contrast between the buttons and the black pants would make the button-fly instantly eye-catching. Lee began to neatly saw away at the placket using the fillet knife. He’d used sharp knives on previous pairs of his own, whenever a scissors wasn’t up to the task. It took less than a minute to cut along the top, down the stitched side, finally finishing by nicking off the bottom part. Five sexy white embossed buttons – with gaps galore through which Umberto’s dark pubic hair could be seen – were now on show to the world. His crotch reeked of musk, and Lee inhaled deeply.


Umberto still held the lat spread, his head completely lost to Lee over the horizon of his upper pecs. 


“Luigi, is there a mirror here, something Umberto can use to see how his pants look?”


Luigi had to think. “Just the ones in the restrooms, Signor. But they are fixed to the walls. No… wait… there might be a spare one in storage.” Luigi clapped his hands twice together, and two maintenance men promptly appeared. They were given their instructions and went off to fetch the mirrored pane.


“Just hold on a little further, Umberto. Keep the pose. The mirror is on the way. Your exposed button-fly bodybuilder slut pants look amazing. The bulge behind your fly is exceptional. Your junk meat keeps getting thicker and weightier.” Lee was so into all this, now. So far the date was going tremendously well.


“I need to see. SHOW ME!!!!!! GRRRRR!!!”


The maintenance men soon returned with the six by six feet square mirror transported with help from thick gloves they had on. They assumed positions just in front of Umberto, both men as awestruck by the muscle giant as much as everyone else present. They each stood on either side of the mirror, making sure it was secure.


Umberto brought himself down from the lat spread, assuming a relaxed pose, which on him still looked like he was insanely pumped. Every sinew and vein still throbbed with power and hormone-infused blood. The gaps between his shirt buttons got a little thinner, although not by much.


“They look… they look…. fucking FANTASTIC!!!!!!! OMG I’m fucking gorgeous beyond belief. I’m getting more and more beautiful. More masculine, and now with my sexy EBFs which are about to become the sole outfit for the evening. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!”


Umberto didn’t even have to throw out another lat spread. He simply flexed his gigantic muscles, forcing more and more blood into his upper body. He rolled back his shoulders and blasted his chest out as far as it would go. He was in awe of his reflection in the mirror.


“Goodbye shirt,” he said with a smirk.


His chest burst out of the shirt, sending several buttons blasting outwards with enough force to crack the mirror. The elastic ribbing on either side of the shirt split apart, turning the once super sexy dress shirt into a dozen or more ripped strands. His bow tie also split open and shot away from his neck with as much force as the buttons. The men holding the mirror were lucky it hadn’t shattered completely. Not that they would have cared. They were so turned on by the insane show of masculine muscularity before them.


Umberto looked around the room smugly, his chest heaving with excitement. His pecs seemed to take on a life of their own, heaving and flexing, bouncing and bulging as he pulled the remains of the shirt from his incredible flesh. Then he leaned into and squeezed out every last bit of power he had to flex into the ‘most muscular’ most muscular pose ever to be displayed on a human male body. His physique bulged more obscenely as new networks of veins pushed upwards under his paper-thin skin. Biceps nearing the forty-five inch mark pushed against forearms as thick as the shanks of a bull calf. His traps rushed up to almost pull his head down into their muscular masses, and veins thicker than Lee’s middle finger blasted out of them with abundance. Umberto leaned further and further into the pose, his dick now snaking down one bulbous thigh, making it appear to be thicker than the other. At least it didn’t burst his beautiful fly-buttons apart, not yet anyway.


“BODYBUILDING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” He roared with enough force to make the chandelier rattle above them. An overweight middle-aged lady with a bad facelift, passed out in shock and had to be revived by her erect husband.


Lee was so glad he’d shot his load earlier, before meeting Umberto, otherwise he’d have soiled himself like most of the other male diners.


“Oh Signor Morelli… this is most improper,” said Luigi, mopping a patina of sweat from his shiny brow.


“Tough shit. My money’s good here, and so are my muscles. Now bring me a menu. All that flexing has left me famished,” Umberto demanded. He hadn’t expected muscle-lust to take him over at the restaurant. But he was settling down, now, free to turn his attention to his beautiful Lee for the rest of the evening.


“He’ll have that one, Luigi… the one you’re using to hide your pitiful erection,” Lee teased, thoroughly invested in the events of the date so far.
Luigi handed the menu over to Umberto, but the bodybuilder god made no attempt to take it. Instead he bounced his pectorals more vigorously, and winked at Luigi. “I think you know what to do, Luigi, my good man.”


Luigi tentatively moved closer to Umberto. Being only five eight in height, the head waiter’s face drew level with the meatiest, manliest chest he’d ever seen. And Umberto’s huge, firm nipples looked good enough to eat. If only. He gingerly inserted the menu into Umberto’s pec cleavage. The menu stayed put, clamped tightly between the mega-mounds.


“Thank you so much. Now fetch me my usual bottle of wine, the ‘87 merlot. And we’ll need a few minutes to decide on a starter course.”


“Of course, Signor.”




It so happened that the restaurant didn’t just serve pizza. It sold pretty much any Italian dish you could think of. Lee found the food utterly delicious. Not usually known for having much of an appetite, he ate most of what was put in front of him. He’d chosen a Parma ham and porcini mushroom tagliatelle, whilst Umberto went for spaghetti and meatballs (four hefty platefuls) and a massive basket of garlic and pesto bread. The establishment had provided him with a sizable bib so that food wouldn’t fall from his mouth and onto his pec shelf or down between his cavernous cleavage. The bib barely covered the top of his pectorals. Fortunately Umberto’s chair still supported his weight, although the maintenance men from earlier were on standby with concrete blocks to push under the chair if required.


Conversation flowed well as the meal progressed. The only silences were far from awkward ones; simply caused by Umberto shovelling forkful after forkful of spaghetti  into his flawless mouth. They decided to get the matter of John the bodybuilder out of the way so that they could enjoy the rest of their evening.


“Don’t worry about him. I know his type. The roids will get him in the end. Fuckers like him usually end up spending more time in the hospital than the gym.” Umberto tore off a big hunk of garlic pesto bread and chewed it noisily. His appetite was enormous; it had to be.


“Yeah but what about the shirt? There’s something about that smell, YOUR smell that’s affecting others. I grew a monster dick, and Sam, well, you saw him. He’s now determined to become a gigantic bodybuilder. The effect you’re having on people is nothing short of magical, Umberto.” 


Umberto didn’t really want to tell Lee as much as he’d told Keith. There’s something about confiding in strangers that can often make you open up more than you intended to. But Lee was more than a stranger. He’d won Umberto’s heart so quickly. There was plenty of time to reveal all the relevant details to Lee as they got to know each other better.


Over dessert they talked about family and friends, what movies and TV shows they liked. It turned out they were big fans of the MARVEL movies, so that took up a good half an hour of the evening. After three glasses of wine, however, Lee began to get a bit drowsy. He’d eaten more than usual, which also made him sleepy. However:


“I’m eighteen years old, Lee. Just thought you needed to know that,” said Umberto, almost blushing for not yet owning up about his age. Suddenly Lee snapped upright, his drowsiness forgotten.


“What? But you… you… can’t be younger than me. I’m twenty. You look way older, if you don’t mind me saying.”


“It’s my condition. Metazeniosis. It’s a genetic thing… makes me grow muscles way beyond what normal men can achieve. I take pills to keep it under control. They also cause the muscle-musk I give off. The musk that got on my shirt.”


Back to the shirt again: “What if your ability to grow is passed onto others through inhalation and contact with your clothing? The smell in my apartment seemed to get stronger hours after you gave me the shirt. The world isn’t ready for a bad-natured bodybuilder as big as you, Umberto.” Lee appeared genuinely worried. The date had been going great… until now.


Umberto’s chair creaked noisily as he attempted to lean across the table to comfort Lee by taking his hand in his own. His massive pectorals made the task more clumsy than difficult. “I won’t let that happen, I promise. Let’s not talk about that, my sweet Lee. There’s no way he can get as big as me. The pills I’m on can affect non-metazenic men, but only marginally. The research institute monitoring me has it all under control. It’s not like every man I come into contact with is bursting with massive muscle. I mean, only your dick grew. You’re still a  super-sexy skinny twink. But now you have an even bigger dick. And you’re all mine, now. You don’t have to worry. I got this.”


They finished off their meal in relative silence, with Lee just playing with a forkful of cheesecake. It was just a thin sliver, with the rest going to  Umberto.


After leaving the restaurant, the pair decided to stroll casually back to Bridge Street. They were in no hurry. It was a beautiful pleasant evening. Lee checked the time on his phone. It was just nearing 9:45 p.m. Sunset was in full swing. The street was abuzz with people out for a good time. Umberto got so many stares, but he was used to it and was happy to stop once in a while to let people admire his muscles, or even touch his pecs, abs, and biceps. He absolutely loved being shirtless, but it was still fun to burst out of figure-hugging shirts that kept getting tighter on him. One passer-by – a guy out on a pub crawl with his rowdy mates – had a bottle of beer in his hand, and it looked like he’d already been sick down his shirt.


“Them muscles look so fake. That a muscle suit you’re wearin’ mate? I’ll bet a swing of me beer bottle against those titties of yours will let some of the air out,” he slurred and belched.


“Come on, Stu, leave it out. That’s Umberto Morelli. Saw him on the internet. He’s a fucking legend,” said one of Stu’s mates, less inebriated and trying not to let his friend get out of hand. And to Umberto: “Sorry about that, mate. He’s drinkin’ on an empty stomach. He isn’t usually like that.”


Then: “Look at those girly pants they’re both wearin’,'' Stu continued, being a complete wanker. “Fuckin’ buttons on the outside. Look, the pair of them have ‘em on. Are you two poofs or what?”


“You’d better watch your mouth, mister. My arm weighs more than your entire body. I’m not sure how many unbroken bones you’ll have left after I slam you into a wall.” Umberto made sure not to provoke the knob-head by inciting his anger.


“Yer fuckin’ all talk, with your girly pants and fake muscles!” Before his friends could stop him, Stu lashed out at Umberto with the beer bottle. It smashed harmlessly against his granite left pectoral, but a piece of glass hit Lee on the chin. Blood began to spill from the wound.


“Shit,” said Lee, trying not to get blood all down his lovely dress shirt. It began to pool up in his palm. Other passers-by now gathered to witness the spectacle.


Umberto lost it. He grabbed Stu by his polo shirt and lifted him a couple of feet off the ground. He pulled him close so that they were face to face. Hot breath snorted out of Umberto’s nostrils and mouth, carrying with it the aroma of wine and Italian food. He bared his teeth, anger burning furiously in his eyes. Umberto said nothing, but his muscles were swelling up, as untold strength gathered within him.


“Umberto don’t. It’s just a scratch. The prick isn’t worth it,” Lee cautioned. A woman standing nearby pulled a hanky out of her purse, for which Lee was extremely grateful. He held it to his bleeding chin. Where was a fuckin copper when you needed one? 


Across the street there was a shop with a candy-striped canvas awning out front. At least Stu would have a soft landing. A double decker bus just whizzed past. The throw sent Stu arching upwards and across the road, narrowly missing the bus, where he then landed on the awning without a scratch. But the awning didn’t support his weight. He crashed through it, but it broke enough of his fall so that only his ego would be bruised. The crowd of onlookers started cheering and applauding the mighty bodybuilder, most of them capturing the feat on their phones.


Umberto checked out Lee’s chin. Fortunately the injury was minor, and he kept pressure on it with the hanky. They continued to head for home.


“I feel so safe with you, Umberto,” said Lee as they walked hand in hand.


“I’d never let any harm come to you. Speaking of which, how is your chin?”


Lee took the hanky away from the wound. It was still bleeding, but not that badly.


“There’s a pharmacy half a block that way,” said Lee. He’d get something for the bleeding in there.




They arrived at the warehouse apartment on Bridge Street at just after 10 p.m. A simple plaster had been enough to stop Lee’s chin bleeding. It was barely noticeable on his cute face.


“Well that was quite an adventurous evening. It didn’t quite go as I’d hoped. But I’m glad we did this. One question though,” said Lee, caressing one of Umberto’s huge upper arms softly but excitedly.


“Ask away,” said Umberto, his excitement also on the rise.


“Are you going to be a perfect gentleman and wish your sexy twink goodnight? Or are you going to inv–”


“GET IN HERE,” Umberto interjected, growling playfully.


It appeared that their date was far from over.

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Dammit, Lee!  Why did you stop him?  Let Stu be Stu, and let Umberto be Umberto!

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4 minutes ago, FallenAway said:

Dammit, Lee!  Why did you stop him?  Let Stu be Stu, and let Umberto be Umberto!

I guess it's because no one wants a first date ruined by a prick, resulting in you spending the night in the slammer. Leave that kind of shite to CW shows 🤪

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26 minutes ago, LORUS said:

I guess it's because no one wants a first date ruined by a prick, resulting in you spending the night in the slammer. Leave that kind of shite to CW shows 🤪

A night in the slammer could be a hot scene and the culmination of the best first date EVER. 

But I'm guessing you have more than hot cocoa and a movie planned for their night at Umberto's warehouse apartment.

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1 minute ago, FallenAway said:

A night in the slammer could be a hot scene and the culmination of the best first date EVER. 

But I'm guessing you have more than hot cocoa and a movie planned for their night at Umberto's warehouse apartment.

Oh no, damn you. Now I really want to do that night in the slammer scene. But they're already at the apartment. Unless.... 🤔

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1 minute ago, LORUS said:

Oh no, damn you. Now I really want to do that night in the slammer scene. But they're already at the apartment. Unless.... 🤔

The assault was captured on video and is probably going viral on social media.  A couple of young officers might knock on the door.

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1 minute ago, FallenAway said:

The assault was captured on video and is probably going viral on social media.  A couple of young officers might knock on the door.

That's exactly what I was thinking. Enough folks in the street recorded it all on their phones. Damn... must resist urge to... ummmph....eeeerk....ffuck...make young... officers....Gridiron members......mmmmmmph.....damn this is hard to...... ooofffffff.... resist! 😝

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  • LORUS changed the title to EBFs and Size Freaks (Part 7 posted, May 26th))

 Part 7

I’ve decided to fast forward a little with the next part of the story, as I really want to wrap it up over the next two, possibly three chapters. There are scenes I wanted to write, but I don’t want this to run too long. Such ideas I planned to use, however, may find their way into future stories – Lorus




“Wow… did you hear about the gym that got ransacked last night? It’s trending online.” Lee was sitting up in bed, catching up with the real world, after a dreamy all-nighter with his mountain muscle-hunk boyfriend Umberto.


Umberto was in the kitchen, preparing French toast, with pancakes and bacon, intending to pamper his boyfriend with a slap-up breakfast in bed. Today marked the three week anniversary of the day they met at Aldersons. It seemed so long ago, now. But when you’re making love to the biggest bodybuilder in the world, then the flow of time often feels out of whack with reality.


“Which gym, honey?” Umberto served up the breakfast and brought it over on a tray to Lee, along with a tall glass of orange juice.


“The crappy one that all the roid-heads go to. Keilly’s Ironside Gym. John trains there too. I wonder if he was responsible.” Lee scrolled down through the news article. It stated that the gym had been broken  into at around 11 p.m. and the manager’s office had its safe stolen. Many of the lockers had been raided, too, with the doors apparently torn off their hinges. Windows were smashed. Several empty syringes were recovered from the locker room, so police believe drug abusers may be involved.”


“Well if it was John who did that, he’s been keeping a very low profile these past few weeks. He knows not to show his face at Gridiron. The manager and all the bodybuilders there are on our side.” There was something about the way Umberto spoke that was hardly very reassuring. Umberto placed the breakfast tray on Lee’s lap before carefully getting back into bed next to him. His massive bulk would have easily upset the tray of delicious breakfast food. 


Umberto’s growth had levelled out of late, with not a single growth spurt in a fortnight. This suited him fine, as it was taking time to get used to having even more muscle mass on a frame that never got taller than six foot six inches. Besides, Lee simply loved the fact that he was so much bigger than when they first met.


“I hope it’s enough,” said Lee, starting on a piece of French toast. Umberto was a great cook, which was simply another bonus that came with being his boyfriend.


“I think it’s time you quit working at Aldersons. You’re destined for bigger and better things, honey. Totally up to you, though. Just a suggestion.”


“But I like working there, sweetie, although it’s not quite the same since Sam quit all of a sudden. He never gave a reason either. I rang his phone several times, and all I got back was one text at two in the morning, saying he had things to do.”


“Well he’s really thrown himself into bodybuilding. I wonder how his progress is doing, now that he’s not inhaling any of my so-called ‘wonder-stink’.”


“I just hope he doesn’t take the steroid route. He’s too nice and cute to get addicted to that shit. I just wish he’d let us know how he’s doing. He should join you, me, and Keith some evening to make a video. Imagine that orgy.”


“Sam is adjusting to his new life. Give him time. But getting back to you. You make way more money making muscle worship videos with me than you ever will working at a supermarket. Besides, Umberto is gonna look after you until we’re both old fogies.” Umberto picked up a pancake from the tray and gobbled it up in one bite. He’d already had four protein shakes, but his appetite was always hungry for more calories.


Umberto was correct. Lee had never had so much money in his bank account. He liked to think his massive sixteen inch cock had something to do with it, as the videos of Umberto sucking him off clocked up more revenue than any of Umberto’s solo videos. The one-off muscle worship threesome video, also featuring Keith Doppler, however, was still the biggest earner. Imagine if Sam decided to join in the fun.


Which reminded him: Keith was due his assessment at The Redfern Institute at 10 a.m. that morning. Umberto was quite concerned. His last conversation with Cyrus Redfern on the phone earlier that week had been less than cordial. Umberto hadn’t been careful. His own monthly assessment was scheduled for the next day.




The police at the scene of the ransacked gym were surprised to see two trucks roll up, out of which a team in hazmat suits appeared. One of them strode up to the officer in charge and flashed his credentials.


“What the?”


“CDC investigations. We have reason to believe a contaminant which represents a serious biohazard was detected at this location. We have orders to seal off the area whilst we conduct our investigation.” Redfern played the part calmly and succinctly. It was enough for the police to leave them to it.



Inside the wrecked gym:


“I want every inch of this place to be tested for RECIUM-412. Start with the shower and locker room. They usually blow their loads in there.” Redfern went into Maury the manager’s office and hacked into the computer on his desk. The door had been smashed in, but other than some minor disruption to the interior of the room, it was otherwise intact. There was a square mark on the floor where a safe had once stood.


Redfern scanned through the database for the names and addresses of all one hundred and four members. Nothing seemed to pique his interest. Then:


“Lillicrap. John Lillicrap. Now that is interesting. Very interesting indeed.”


“Sir, we have a positive on RECIUM-412, one of the technicians on staff declared, when Redfern was finished in the office. He held in his gloved hand a test-tube containing a semen sample and a reactive agent that turned the sample green.


Beneath his protective headgear Redfern’s wrinkled mouth bent into an angry frown. “Run full decontamination protocols. Leave this place spotless.”


“Sir, what will we tell the press? There’s a news van outside. People seem worried.”


“Tell them it’s anthrax, and that it’s being contained and neutralised. But I want an interception task force put on standby and ready to deploy on my orders. I am returning post haste to the institute. The Wickham boy is due to be tested.”




Despite the receptionist being really nice to him and offering him refreshments, there was something about this place that Sam didn’t like. It had a more sinister feeling to it than something clinical. Keith was made to wait for him in the lobby.


“Hey, no need to be worried. I got on fine with them, the other day. This isn’t something out of a Stephen King novel. They just want to take some blood and ask you some questions. Then you’ll have your Gridiron membership in no time.” Keith towered over his new boyfriend, although Sam, being the shorter of the two, had a much more densely-muscled physique than Keith.


“They’re ready for you now, Sam,” said the receptionist as she showed him through to another room.


“Hey Sam…” Keith called him before he disappeared behind a white door, “...get huge!” Keith formed a full lat spread in just his tank top and exposed button-fly slut shorts. He was 324 lbs of hulking, rippling muscle. He was now giving off his own muscle-musk, having used up all of the pills (some of which he’d given to Sam during their first intimate night together). Sam was four inches shorter, at five feet eleven, but he was already exceeding the minimum weight requirement to become a member of Gridiron.


“Welcome to Muscle Central, Sam. You can call me Rob. I’m Doctor Redfern’s assistant. He’s been delayed due to a matter of urgency off campus, but he will return shortly. If you’d like to start by filling out this form, we can then proceed.” Rob handed Sam a clipboard containing three sheets of paper.


Sam eyed some of the questions and tried not to be nervous.


“It’s nothing to be scared of, Sam. Just routine questions we ask all of our initiates: medical history, allergies, that sort of thing.” Rob soon had Sam relaxed and unafraid.


After the forms were filled in, Sam had his body measurements taken. He was also weighed and asked for a semen sample. He refused the pornographic magazines provided for him. He simply needed a mirror through which to get off to the sight of his own beautiful muscles. When he flexed he imagined himself a lot bigger. He flexed one pose after another, his muscles bulging all over. He grew hard, his ten inch boner starting to exceed ten and move closer to eleven. When he came, the spunk splashed all over the mirror. Rob was able to collect a sample, plus he made a note of how much was produced.


The next part of the procedure was an MRI scan. The scanner at the Institute had been purposely built to accommodate the massive girths of bodybuilders many times Sam’s size. But it could be adjusted to make him as comfortable as possible. Sam was a little claustrophobic, but he managed to get through it okay. Finally, blood samples were taken, just as Doctor Redfern returned to take charge of the situation. He gestured to Sam to take a seat in his office.


“Well, you’re probably relieved that the tests are all over for you, Sam. I know they can be uncomfortable for some of our subjects.” Redfern reminded Sam of a vampire, his tone bordering on macabre. His face and body were wizened, as if from the ravages of time, and yet his eyes still retained the vigour of a man half his age. He interlocked long, bony fingers together on his desk and smiled when it appeared to him that Sam was becoming more comfortable.


“I’m not going to sugarcoat what I’m about to say to you, Sam. I know that you and Keith came into the possession of RECIUM-412. The levels in Keith’s blood and semen were consistent with ingestion of the drug in a concentrated form and not just through contact with Umberto Morelli. I shall have your test results very soon, although I think it’s safe to say that your results will be more or less the same as Keith’s.”


“I just want to be huge, Doctor Redfern. Being around Umberto Morelli changes people… for the better. He radiates desire to grow in others.” Sam held his head, almost shamefully.


“Well I must accept responsibility for that one. RECIUM-412 is a failure. It’s not as stable as it could have been. It was designed to regulate Umberto’s muscle-growth, as he is the only metazenic bodybuilder who grows muscle, but never gets taller. It is because he was a late bloomer, itself extremely rare amongst his kind. It’s not meant to be abused by the non-metazenic. Your growth, and Keith’s, is astonishing. Previous test subjects usually only gained a few pounds of muscle before developing a resistance to the drug. You and Keith are the exceptions.”


“Does that mean we’re like Umberto? Can we get as big as he is?”


“I’m not yet sure. More research is needed. Although I believe that his muscle-musk acted as a catalyst to a hitherto unseen effect. It not only affected your muscles, it stimulated your limbic system so that simply desiring to be huge has had a dramatic effect on your growth.” Something bleeped on Redfern’s small laptop. 


“Ah yes, your results. It’s as I expected. Your limbic system has been permanently altered by the over-exposure to RECIUM-412. It’s as if Umberto changed it in his own body, then released the new and improved version through his muscle-musk, which you came into contact with, and which initially kick-started your growth.”


“But why did Lee not grow muscles the same as me? Only his di– er, I mean… penis… got larger.”


“I would expect that deep down Lee never wanted to be a bodybuilder. I interviewed him about it, and he is just one of those people who can get through life without needing to be the most dashing peacock in the pen. But he likes having oversized genitals, and that’s how the muscle-musk affected him. But I need to exercise caution. Your growth must be strictly regulated. That is why you will be attending the Institute on a weekly basis.”


“Weekly? That’s a bit excessive. What if I wanted to move away, and start over?” Sam shifted his weight in the chair. His arse was a little numb. He didn’t like where this was going.


“Fear not, Sam. Your every need will be catered for. I see you wrote ‘unemployed’ on your form. You ceased working at the supermarket, yes?”


“Yeah, I just want to bodybuild as much as possible, Doctor. Aldersons was holding me back. Besides, Keith and I are together now. He makes good money doing porn videos with Umberto and Lee. Plus, he’s kinda Umberto’s handyman and PR guy now.” Sam went quiet. His mouth felt a little dry.


“Would you like some water? You might need it when you hear about my proposal.” Redfern smiled warmly. He no longer appeared vampire-like to Sam. 


“No I’m good, thanks.”


“As an ongoing Institute subject, you will be entitled to a full, and quite generous stipend. It will ensure that you do not need to work in order to support yourself. You will also gain access to our high-tech state of the art gym here at the Institute. We own the Gridiron franchise, but they’re just there to attract the most exceptionally-gifted bodybuilders out there. They also exist to draw potential metazenic bodybuilders out of the ether, so to speak. It would seem that more are emerging, and they’re always gay, too. It’s a side effect of the original program I’d thought was a failure. But look at all that’s happened as a result.”


It was a lot for Sam to take in.


“Now that you and Keith are actually generating the effects of RECIUM in your bloodstreams, this will have to be monitored very carefully. It may be that you could even exceed the growth rate of metazenic bodybuilders. Your growth thus far has been astonishing. If this keeps up you could be bigger than Umberto is now. It’s just too early to know for certain.”


“Really? I want that so much, Doctor. Yes, I’ll do whatever is required. I want to be the biggest, most muscular bodybuilder the world has ever seen.”


“Yes, your desire is very strong, indeed, Sam. That is why I asked Keith not to tell you too much about his assessment. I tend to enjoy seeing that look on the faces of my initiates.”


Redfern then got up from his desk and leaned forward to shake the hand of the beautiful blonde bodybuilder.


“Welcome to the family, Sam Wickham!”



The next day Umberto and Lee arrived at the Institute via a vehicle designed to accommodate Umberto’s incredible size. Umberto was looking forward to the assessment as much as he was dreading it. He hoped that Redfern had reprimanded him enough over the phone and that there wouldn’t be more of the same in person.


Lee thought it was quite humbling to see Umberto revert back to the “teen about to be scolded by his superior” mode. Lee’s interview with Doctor Redfern had been somewhat brief, with just a blood and semen sample required. Since it became apparent that Lee was now happy with the size of his genitalia, Redfern said there was therapy available to nullify the effects of RECIUM muscle-musk, so that Lee would no longer grow a larger penis.


He was made to wait in the lobby as Umberto was shown up to Redfern’s spartan but capacious office. An extra large chair was provided to comfortably accommodate Umberto.


“Would you like something to drink, Umberto?” Redfern was in a bad mood, but not as bad as Umberto thought he’d be.


“I’m okay, Cyrus. I just want to get this over. I know I messed up. I can’t apologise any further than I already have.” For a moment Umberto felt small and insignificant. Although he was on a first name basis with Redfern, he still had to conduct himself in a professional manner and not get riled up, which might trigger a growth spurt.


“I’m not overly angry with you. It’s becoming clear from data compiled throughout the Gridiron network, that non-metazenic bodybuilders are getting unnaturally bigger beyond what abuse of anabolic steroids and HGH currently precipitate. It may be that men are naturally evolving, but my analysis of the situation is that there is some bleeding effect in play, specific to your body’s ability to emit a more concentrated variant of RECIUM-412 through pheromones and body fluids.” Redfern paused to remove his spectacles from his beak-like nose. He was tired, having not slept in almost twenty-four hours. He had a lot on his mind and much work to do cleaning up a mess, he’d hoped could be curtailed and not allowed to get out of control.


“I never asked for this. I’m like this because you got it wrong twenty years ago, Cyrus. And now you expect me to tiptoe around and be all gentle and careful in case I leak some muscle-growth pixie dust for others to react to? Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t live my life like this.” Umberto quickly bolstered some of his old self back, deciding that playing the meek and humble teenager wasn’t going to cut it anymore.


“I’m not expecting you to. All I ask is that you be a little more mindful of who you cross paths with. Keith clearly obtained several pills from your apartment, although he still denies it. But his blood test results say otherwise. And now Sam has also been affected. I’m glad they hooked up, so at least they won’t go off to find separate partners who they may affect and add to this unfortunate chain of events. This must be contained at all costs. We can’t have a muscle-growth epidemic on our hands.”


“Received and understood, Cyrus. Now can we please get to the good stuff? I got muscles to build,” Umberto snorted.


“Of course. I’m glad we are on the same page, Umberto. You’re my star pupil, after all,” said Redfern, ending their chat with a less sombre tone.


Umberto was well used to the drill at the Institute. He went down to the testing labs and stood on the special scale that could take the weight of a jet plane, it was that powerful.


“Should I take my clothes off, for a more accurate reading?” He said to Rob, Redfern’s assistant.


“I hardly think what you’re barely wearing will make much of a difference, Umberto. Just out of interest, where did you obtain such a sexy outfit?” Rob was clearly attracted to Umberto, not that his white lab coat could contain the chubby he was sporting inside his own pants. Rob was in really good shape for a lab nerd, but he was a long way off from being a proper bodybuilder. 


“House of Trione. Fortunato is a master tailor, and a friend of mine. If you like I can give you his number. He might run something sexy up for you, too,” Umberto winked. The giant bodybuilder was clad in a sleeveless pink crop top with a polo collar buttoned up to the neck. Umberto liked wearing button collar tops fully fastened because they made his chest and traps look a lot bigger, and there were more buttons between which his pec flesh could be seen through straining gaps. His pants were charcoal black, made of a very stretchy denim-esque material that Fortunato developed so that really gigantic bodybuilders would feel comfortable wearing. These had a cut-away waistband and five silver exposed buttons down the front. Umberto’s dick and balls were now monstrously huge, so the crotch of the jeans were designed to be extra stretchy. Through the gaps in the buttons, Umberto’s white jockstrap could be seen. The ensemble was complete with a pair of flip-flops large enough to fit his size thirteen feet.


The scale readout read: “1244 lbs”.


“Wow, last time you weighed me I was only 760.”


“Almost 500 lbs in a month,” Rob commented excitedly.


“More like two weeks. I haven’t had a growth spurt in about a fortnight.”


“It’s just your body adjusting to the new muscle mass. Do you actually want to get bigger?”


“Sure, who wouldn’t? Although, I will admit, it’s kinda cool taking a little break from it. The extra muscles have made me extra clumsy. We’ve only just gotten the apartment looking lived-in, but I’ve so far broken two vases, three toilet seats, the sofa, and ripped the door off the fridge when I went to get a snack.” Umberto proudly flexed his sixty-five inch guns, which almost exploded with vascular mass.


“The lasers will scan your body’s dimensions now, Umberto. As usual, just keep still for thirty seconds or so,” Rob instructed as he jotted down some notes. The measurements flashed across a large computer screen mounted on one wall.


“Chest: 240 flexed, arms: 67 flexed, waist: 40, hmm maybe waist-training will get it down to a more attractive 36.” Rob made a special note of that.


“Yeah yeah, I’m fuckin’ huge. Forget the numbers. I really wanna hit the gym today. I may not grow, but I need to get a big pump going.” 


“Yes, you do seem a little restless. I’ve noticed your thighs are so thick, they’re affecting how you walk. We offer revolutionary new sculpting techniques that could refine the muscularity you have below the waist to make your walking more comfortable. You would lose volume, but not strength or weight. Your muscles would simply become denser. We’re actually looking to expand this to your overall physique. Think about it: you can’t fit through the doors of your favourite department store, or fit into a booth at your favourite restaurant. A simple device implanted under your skin can tighten all of your muscles so you lose mass temporarily. You can always turn it off when you’re done, and revert back to your bigger self.”


“I’ll think about it. Right now I’m happy to waddle along. It’s sexy, is it not?”


“Yes, very much so.”


“Fuck, I feel so restricted in this crop top.”


“It looks great on you, Umberto. Crop tops tend to draw one’s eyeline to the chest area, so your chest is absolutely phenomenal. Which brings me back to the nano-sculpt device. You could wake up one day after a growth spurt and find it hard to walk, but activating the device will make your legs thinner, but then your upper body will look even more massive. You want bigger pecs, right?”


“Of course, I’m a boobs man through and through. My bust will never be as big as I want it to be,” Umberto growled, his muscle-lust rising. He cranked out a full lat spread causing tears to his crop top. Two more flexes – each one bigger than the last – and the crop top flew apart, exposing his massively bulbous mega-chest. With areolas the size of teacup saucers, and the nipples themselves as big as salt shakers, his muscle-bust could not be matched, not even by the larger, taller and heavier metazenic bodybuilders around the world. He flexed his pectorals and bounced them vigorously. They flared red in colour as blood rushed to feed them. He then squeezed them between his mighty arms, forcing them to thicken and bulge crazily.


“Fuck this, Rob. I’m going to lift some very, very heavy stuff now… over and over… and I want my boyfriend right there coaxing me on, and then I’ll need him to fuck me with his giant twink dick.” And as if to emphasise his lust, Umberto’s balls swelled to more than twice their size, pushing his lengthening and thickening rod upwards and outwards. Buttons pinged off his EBFs, as his junk swelled ever-larger, shredding the jockstrap as easily as they did the pants. Umberto was now naked and ready for his workout.


“Okay then… make your way to the gymnasium. Would you like me to arrange some alternative clothing for your return home? Perhaps I could phone your tailor.” 


“Fuck that, Rob. I’m so horny, imagine what I’ll be like after my workout? I’ll just burst out of the next set of clothes, too. Grrr!”


“Yes, I suppose you’ve got a point, all twenty-plus inches by the looks of it,” Rob remarked, in awe of Umberto’s overall size and masculinity. He was getting more and more beautiful. Even his face had changed since his last visit. He was way more handsome than ever.




In the gym: Umberto was joined by Lee, who was there mostly for fun and to support his beautiful boyfriend. Like Umberto, he’d stripped down to his birthday suit, his sixteen inch dick in a semi-flaccid state. He’d not eaten since the evening before, and so he was looking thinner than ever. He had a visible heartbeat, and his ribs and hip bones were clearly visible. But he was still in perfect health, and not emaciated at all. He was just super skinny, which made his dick and balls look way bigger when compared with the rest of him. He sometimes wore contact lenses, but Umberto loved to see him naked and wearing only his glasses. They made him look so much cuter and way more handsome than the contacts.


“Wow, look at how tiny my waist is,” joked Lee, trying to fit a lifting belt around it, only even though it was fastened on the last holes, he could still easily slip it on and off. He sucked in his stomach down to a ridiculous vacuum, to the point where he could put his hands on each side of his waist and make his fingers meet in the middle. His dick thickened to its biggest size and turned rock hard. He felt a little light headed, but Umberto loved to see him play with his skinny body like this. He, too, grew super rock hard as more and more blood flooded the pipes and conduits inside his dick.


“Grrr, seeing you like this makes me want to add another 500 lbs to the bar, honey,” he joyfully and lustily proclaimed.


“Don’t let me stop you, huge man,” said Lee, blowing him a kiss from not far away whilst pretending to balance a very small weight on his massively erect dick. He almost succeeded, but it was enough to drive Umberto into beast mode of the most frenzied kind:


“Oh Jeezus, did you have to do that? It’s making me so horny. I’m feeling stronger!!!!” Umberto increased his weight  on the bar to two and a half thousand pounds, his heaviest bench press yet.


“Damn… I’m not strong enough yet,” he admitted when he let the bar land back wobbly on the rack.


“What if I lift up this twenty pound plate and try to fuck it through the hole with my dick? Would that coax you enough to press that weight where it needs to go?” Lee, clearly in the throes of lust, wanted his soul mate to break his record. And with his help, he’d do just that.


“Yes… yes… do it. Please… that’s so fucking hot! I want to break my record and explode with cum at the same time. All for my sexy, skinny Lee!” Umberto’s tone was a pleading one, desperately so. 


The large, iron disc felt heavy in Lee’s hands, and it was now that he wished he could be stronger. But he just about managed to bring the head of his cock to the hole in the centre of the disc. There was a problem, however. 


“My dick’s too thick to fit through the hole. Might need some help!”


Umberto had an idea. He got up from the bench that used a combination of magnetic resistance and traditional iron weights to provide Umberto with all the weight he needed to  outgrow his current size. He muscle-waddled over to his gorgeous skinny man and took the plate from him.


“Yeah, no way that monster dick of yours could ever get through this tiny hole. Let me be of assistance.” He inserted two callused fingers into the hole and began to work them back and forth until the metal heated up. Then he forced his fingers apart, several times, eventually making the hole larger.


“What about now?”

Lee tested it with his dick, but it was still too big to get through the hole.


“Looks like I won’t get to fuck some iron, Umberto… and you won’t get the encouragement you need to break your bench record.” Lee feigned disappointment, but with a mischievous glint in his eyes.


“No fucking way is this happening,” Umberto snarled, his muscle-lust rising to fever pitch.


He widened the hole some more. “Now try it,” he excitedly demanded.


Sure enough, this time the plate slipped easily onto Lee’s whopper-dick. To both their surprise:


“Hey, this feels like it weighs nothing. But when I held it with my hands, it felt heavier than 20 lbs.” Both Lee and Umberto were shocked to discover that although Lee’s body was skinny, lanky, with low muscle mass, his dick seemed to be super strong.


“Try another plate,” Lee excitedly suggested.


“Buh-but… you’ll hurt yourself, honey. I would hate to play a part in you getting injured.” Umberto was hesitant due to caution.


“Does my dick look like it’s in any discomfort? Look at it. A monster hyper-phallus with a 20 lb weight plate shoved onto it. It feels fine. Get me another.” 


Umberto repeated the same process as before, but with another plate. He carefully slid it onto Lee’s dick, pushing it all the way along the shaft, until it struck the first one with a metallic ‘clank’.


“How does that feel, sexy, gorgeous Lee, my twinky love?”


“Feels like two plastic bangles, nothing more. This is incredible. Repeat your metal-kneading prowess with two more. Although, I still may have room for a few more after that.” Lee was enjoying every moment of their new discovery, especially what it would inevitably lead to. In the three weeks since they’d been together, they’d never had sexual intercourse. Umberto was afraid that Lee would get hurt if he lost control while fucking him. So their sex had consisted of mainly muscle worship, oral, and wanking each other off. This, of course, was extremely pleasurable for both. But what if there could be more?


When Lee had four plates supported by his dick, it was well over half his own body weight. By now it felt like his dick was supporting a bag of sugar. Each plate was just under two inches thick. He could probably hold up to seven in total, and still have the head of his dick showing. Seven plates together weighed more than he did. He decided to go for it.


“Jeezus, that’s more than you weigh,” exclaimed Umberto, when his super-skinny boyfriend stood proud and tall with 140 lbs of iron threaded onto his monster cock.


“I can’t believe this is even possible. Should we tell Doctor Redfern?”


“Fuck that. This is our private stuff. There are things we have the right to keep to ourselves. But I want you to do one thing for me.”


“And what would that be, my huge, gigantic muscle-god… as if I didn’t already know?” Lee started to bounce his dick up and down, causing the plates to clank noisily against each other.


“If I break my bench press record… will you fuck me?”


“Sure… but only if you break your record.”


“And if I don’t? Will you punish huge Umberto by not pleasuring him in new and exciting ways? Will Umberto not get to be your bottom bitch?”


“Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind, darling,” said Lee, enjoying the mischievous role-playing. He also loved when Umberto referred to himself in the third person.


“Grrrr… I need more strength, so.” Umberto hadn’t had a growth spurt in a couple of weeks. But he felt now was the time for another one. If he wanted to break records, then he needed extra muscle and extra strength to do so. He also needed his arse to get strong enough to be able to take a massive pounding from his gorgeous skinny boyfriend with a super-powered schlong.


“Er… shouldn’t you take a pill before you grow?” Lee grew a little concerned.


“Fuck it. Cyrus already told me RECIUM is a failure. Besides, I’ll grow how I fucking well like. I’m fucking sick of this place.” This was purely Umberto’s lust talking.


Just as Umberto started his forced growth session, an alarm sounded from speakers throughout the compound.


“What the f–?”




His growth suddenly put on hold, Umberto cared only about keeping Lee safe. He removed the plates from his dick before scooping him up in his arms. They escaped the gym facility with seconds to spare, before a massive amount of smashed masonry and metal crashed downward from above, destroying the gym completely.


A storm of unprecedented magnitude had arrived.


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  • LORUS changed the title to EBFs and Size Freaks (Part 9 posted, June 13th)

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