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11 hours ago, mmvmgo2011 said:

Thanks. You're too kind.

As for the rest, I've written and re-written this comment trying to give a hint of what's coming, but every time I thought it gave too much away so, sorry, you'll just have to wait and see. :D

Alright Then Keep Your Secrets GIF by hero0fwar
Sounds great!

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CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED-AND-FOUR

Brad picked up the phone, “Brad. Fuck. Thank fuck. I’ve fucked up.”

“Jake? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

Jake began bawling and sobbing, trying to explain, but it was all an incoherent mess and Brad could not make out anything.

“Where are you?”

“Where? Slow down, relax, I can’t understand you. Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you. I’ll fire up the emergency app.”

They’d agreed a long time ago to share location with each other, each swearing they’d only use it in an emergency. Whether this counted as an emergency… well, Jake could suck it up.

He opened the app and immediately saw he was at his brother’s. Fuck. That wasn’t good.

He jumped in his ute, the shock absorbers groaning under the strain, and he hightailed it to Jason’s.

****

He arrived to controlled chaos. Two ambulances were out front, Scott was sitting in the back of one ambulance, being attended to by a paramedic, Jason was wheeled out on a stretcher and loaded into the back of the other ambulance, which drove off as Brad pulled up.

Jake was sitting on the kerb by the first ambulance, his head in his hands; bloody hands. Another paramedic approached him, and he rebuffed their efforts to inspect his hands.

Brad parked and approached Scott, first.

“Scott, are you okay? What happened?”

“They want to take me in for some scans, checking for internal bleeding, just–“

“Internal bleeding? What?”

“– Uncle Jake, he… he went crazy.”

Fuck.

“Dad was being a prick, and was spouting a bunch of bullshit and Jake just snapped and unleashed on him. Brad, I thought he was going to kill him.” Scott sobbed, “I couldn’t stop him, I had to shield him with my body as best I could.”

He turned his back to Brad, and Brad winced. Scott’s back was bruised and battered, red and swollen. Jake had done a number on him. He imagined Jason was a deal worse.

“I’m sorry, Scott.” He didn’t know what else to say. How could he defend the indefensible?

Scott nodded.

“Go and get checked out. I’ll come and check in on you later.” He turned to the paramedic. “Which hospital are you talking them to?”

“Alpha Memorial.”

“Thanks.”

He went over to Jake, who was still sitting on the kerb. The paramedic looked to Brad for assistance.

“Mate, let the ambo have a look at your hands.”

“They’re fine. It’s not my hands that are fucked.”

“I don’t give a shit. Let the ambo do his job.”

Jake held out his hands for the paramedic to inspect. The paramedic inspected his hands carefully, turning them over, pressing, prodding and pulling on his fingers, and pushing up his sleeves to check his wrists and forearms for injuries, his vascularity pumped from the beating.

“Looks like there are no breaks or fractures, just some minor lacerations across the knuckles. You have strong hands, you’re lucky. I’ll just put some antiseptic on the wounds and light bandaging. This will sting a little,” he said as he applied the antiseptic. He worked quickly and efficiently, and then packed up his kit and turned to Brad.

“Thanks for your help, he was being recalcitrant.”

“Any time.”

“Maybe you two could help me after my shift?” He handed Brad his card as he joined his colleague and they bundled Scott into the back and headed off to Alpha Memorial.

“Can you drive?”

“Where are we going?”

“Back to mine.”

“I’ve really fucked up this time, Brad.”

“Yeah, mate, you have. Give me your keys.” He tossed his keys to Jake, who caught them deftly.

“If you’re going to crash, I’d rather you crash the ute.”

Incredibly, Jake handed over his keys without any objection. Things were clearly serious.

****

If his friend’s life wasn’t apparently spiralling out of control, Brad would’ve enjoyed driving the Beast. It actually wasn’t his first time driving her, but Jake was extremely protective and did not generally allow anyone to drive her - Brad was the only other person to ever drive her.

He made Jake lead, so he could follow, and make sure that he was okay.

They pulled into his drive, but Jake remained in Brad’s car, a vacant look on his face. Brad walked up, “Come on mate, come inside, I’ll grab you a Scotch.” No response.

Brad opened the car door and grabbed at Jake’s arm. Of course, even Brad’s massive mitts couldn’t encircle Jake’s biceps and triceps, and Brad had no illusions that he’d be able to drag Jake out of the car if he didn’t want to be led out. But Jake snapped out of his reverie enough to allow Brad to lead him out of the car and inside.

****

Brad poured another three fingers of single malt Scotch – three Brad fingers, so a double double, at least - for each of them.

“So?”

“Scott wanted to go and pick up some of his stuff. I was going to wait in the car, but Jason wanted to clear the air. Or so he said. So I sat and listened. He started okay, he apologised to us both, and admitted it was his idea that I not reveal my sexuality to Scott - I’d always suspected that was the case. But then, he went off the rails, and said something about not being able to trust me with Scott.”

“What?”

“Yeah, some crap about me corrupting him and turning him into me.”

“Frankly, he could do a lot worse than model himself on you.”

Jake did not react to the compliment.  “And then he said something about not trusting me to not do something to Scott, sexually, and I got up to leave.”

“I told you he was a cunt. Sorry Jakey, but he is. Of all the hypocritical things to say–“

“So I got up to leave, and he said some crap about me walking away with my tail between my legs. Scott had a go at him, telling him he saw everything - his hardon, his attempt to kiss me–”

“Ooof. That’s got to be hard to hear from your kid.”

 “And then he said some fucked up bullshit about how I was feeding Scott perverted stories and that maybe it was best if he not see me any more, and I just lost it.”

Brad could imagine. He was there and saw what he did to George. His blood was boiling just listening secondhand to the bullshit the cunt had spouted.

“Scott, understandably, was trying to defend his dad. I didn’t even see him at first, I was so fucking incensed, and I don’t remember hurting him, but he’s on the way to the hospital” – his voice cracked, and he started sobbing.

“You didn’t mean it. He’ll understand. He’ll come around.” Brad took a gulp of Scotch, encouraging Jake to do the same.

“Your… ability. You’re amped up on T, aren’t you? And you’ve totally altered your hormone profile? Aromatase, adrenaline, cortisol… am I on the right track?”

Jake nodded, taking a gulp of Scotch, his sobs subsiding.

“I’ve seen it a thousand times before. You’re not special, it’s just plain, vanilla roid rage. With a sprinkling of cunt to trigger it.”

Jake’s temper flashed. “Fuck off with that bullshit.” Jake’s knuckles were white as he gripped the armrests.

“Jake. Stop. Look at yourself. Listen to yourself.”

“You weren’t there, he threatened to cut me off from Scott.”

“Stop making bullshit excuses. Scott is an adult now, and can make his own decisions. Jason can’t cut him off from anyone. And, I’m not Jason. If you attack me, you won’t find a passive victim.” Though Brad would really rather not have to try and fend off an attack from Jake. Truthfully, he didn’t believe he could, but he’d certainly put up a fight.

“What? I wasn’t–“

“Weren’t you? Look at your arms. Your forearms are pumped as fuck, look at the veins. You’re about to snap off my armrests.”

“I–” He relaxed his grip.

“I need you to dial it all down. Ramp up slowly. You’ve gone from zero to crazy in an instant.” He took another gulp. “Look at you. You’re a fucking Adonis. 99.9% of guys would kill to look like you. And, fuck, don’t get me started about your strength, stamina and performance - off the fucking charts. And you’ve achieved all of that  totally natty.”

“Yes, but–”

“No! No buts. You’re already a fucking machine, slow and steady like the tortoise, not the hare.”

“You’re just jealous, and don’t want me to catch up to your size.” As soon as he said it, he regretted it.

“I’m going to forget you said that.”

There was a pause. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean that.”

“I believe you. Now, back to the topic at hand.”

“Brad, I–”

“Are you going to make me use your kryptonite? Really?”

“No, I–”

“You’ve tied my hands, mate. You hospitalised your brother and nephew. Scott. You smashed him in a berserk rage. You could’ve killed him - ruptured an organ. I spoke with him, and he seems to be okay, but that’s only through dumb luck, and nothing to do with you. A week ago you were arrested for bashing a guy way beyond the rules of MMA. A few days ago you made a kid wet himself in fear. You’ve got a problem, and the hormones aren’t helping. We can’t keep having these conversations, eventually, it will catch up with you. It might have already - I doubt Scott will want to press charges, but I’m not so sure about Jason.”

It was hard to hear his best friend lay it out so starkly.

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CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED-AND-FIVE

Scott was in a private room, they had top-tier private health coverage, after all. He’d just had a report from the doctors. His father was still in surgery. They’d discovered some internal bleeding, and it was apparently touch and go whether he’d keep his spleen, but the surgeons were confident he’d survive. He’d also had a broken jaw, broken eye socket, fractured eye socket and extensive contusions over his torso.

Scott himself was awaiting the report on his own scans, though he was not being wheeled to surgery, so things must be okay. He’d been given some mild painkillers to alleviate any discomfort.

He turned at a knock on the door.

“Brad. Thanks for visiting.”

“How are you?”

“I feel okay. Dad’s not so great, he’s in surgery. Some broken bones in his face, internal bleeding, he might lose his spleen, but they say he’ll survive.”

Fuck Jake. “That’s promising.” What else could he say in the circumstances?

“You should have seen him, Brad, it’s like he was possessed. His eyes were crazy, unfocussed.”

“I’m not making any excuses, don’t get me wrong, but he sort of was.” Brad caught him up on everything, the vaccine, Jake's ability, everything.

“Jake’s here, and he’d like to see you, if you’ll let him. He’s waiting out in the waiting room.”

Scott nodded. Brad went to go and get him, leading him back to the room.

“Scotty. How are you feeling?” Jake demeanour was contrite, wary.

“I’ll be okay.”

“I know it’s not enough, and it won’t undo what I’ve done, but it’s all I can do. I’m so very, very sorry. I can’t undo the past.” He did not bring any gift. What do you bring a bloke that is trying to bulk up on a bodybuilding diet to say sorry,? Chocolates are out. Flowers? Scott wasn’t really a flowers kind of guy.

“How’s your dad?”

“He’s still in surgery. You fucked him up pretty good. Not that he didn’t deserve it.”

“Don’t say that. He’s your dad,” said Jake.

“So, what? It’s true. Instead of acknowledging and apologising, he was trying to blame you, and to say that he didn’t trust you because you’d, what, rape me or something. Come on, that’s fucked up.”

“I’m not defending him, but I shouldn’t have attacked him. And I’m sorry for that too. Brad says he’s explained things to you. It’s not an excuse - I have no excuse - but it’s an explanation.”

Jake was providing an excellent example of how Jason should have acted. Contrite, apologetic, accepting responsibility, not making excuses. It didn’t make up for what he’d done, but it went a long way.

“I get it, I wanted to hit him too. But, you freaked me out, Uncle Jake. You were totally berserk. You nearly killed him, and you smashed me pretty good, too.” Scott had actually gotten off lightly, considering. On some level, Jake must’ve held back when hitting him.

“I can’t apologise enough. It’s going to sound hollow and insincere, but you have to know I’d never knowingly hurt you. I’ve already dialled back the hormones - Brad made me promise him that, and you know I keep my promises.”

“I did know. I’m not sure I can trust you any more. It’s going to take time.” Ouch. That hurt. That hurt, a lot. And it was totally deserved.

“I can understand that. All I can do is try and prove myself to you and win back your trust.”

“I can’t promise anything.”

“Of course. Have you told your mother?”

“Not everything, but she knows dad is in surgery. She’s flying back as we speak.” Well, that stitches up any future family gatherings, thought Jake. Though apparently it all stemmed from his brother, so… who knows?

“You’re still welcome to stay with me, the offer is always open - you know that. But I’ll understand if you want to go back home.”

“I-, I’m not sure what to do. Neither option sounds good at the moment.”

“How about you stay at Brad’s for a while? Until you decide. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

“Neutral territory, that would be great.”

Jake went to get Brad, who had stepped out to give them some privacy. As they were heading back to the room, he asked, “Well?”

“As good as can be expected. I’ll fill you in later.”

They walked back in.

“Brad, Scott has something he’d like to ask.”

“He doesn’t need to ask, I was already thinking about it on the way here. He doesn’t want to go home, and he doesn’t want to stay with you. Of course he can stay with me. There’s plenty of room back at mine - he’ll have a room to himself, his own bathroom.”

“Thank you Brad, that’s very generous of you,” said Scott.

“I’ve already told you, kid, anytime you need anything, just ask. We’ll let you rest up. Give me a call when they’re ready to discharge you and I’ll come and pick you up, we’ll swing by your parents’ place so you can grab your things on the way to mine.”

“Thanks.”

As they were leaving, Jake paused, “Scott, no doubt the cops will interview you soon, if they haven’t already. I understand if you want to press charges. I’m sure your father will.”

“They haven’t been yet.”

Jake waited for him to say something more, but he didn’t. He turned and left, meeting Brad outside.

****

“Thanks for offering Scott a place to stay. I owe you. About a thousand.”

“Yeah, you do, but then I owe you about a thousand back. What are friends for? So what did he say? How did it go?”

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I love how you keep things going. There is  amoment where everything seems good and then a fked up thing happens.

Jason is tgrully responsable of what happened to him. He must realized he is fucking up his relationship with his son and his brother.

 

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6 minutes ago, Ro20316 said:

I love how you keep things going. There is  amoment where everything seems good and then a fked up thing happens.

Jason is tgrully responsable of what happened to him. He must realized he is fucking up his relationship with his son and his brother.

 

It's fiction, but has grains of truth and inspiration from personal experience sprinkled throughout - sometimes life sucks like that. 🤷‍♂️

And, absolutely agree, Jason is so fucked up, so in denial, he can't recognise his own behaviour, his own desires, his own taboo and deviant incestuous longing. He really believes what he was saying - as delusional as that is.

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CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED-AND-SIX

“You know, I’m going to be sick of seeing Mario and Rob’s faces,” Jake said as they walked back to Jake’s car, Brad still had the keys.

“So you should. Honestly, you should be jailed. I doubt Scott will press charges, Jason on the other hand…”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“Let’s destroy a gym workout. Work out some of your aggression in a healthy way. And, yes, you can ramp up your T during the workout - go nuts. But, remember your promise. Back down to a little above normal. The cycling should help your body get used to the crazy levels. You’re lucky, you can make instant changes, you don’t have to plan days and weeks ahead.”

Truthfully, Brad was insanely jealous of Jake’s new found ability. What he wouldn’t do with the ability to optimise his hormones… his cock chubbed at the thought. Jake said earlier that Brad was jealous of him, and didn’t want him to catch up to his size - there was more than a little truth to that.

Brad was envious of Jake’s conditioning, his definition, the striations, the insane vascularity – thick pipes and feathery capillaries. Brad could never cut, his body was just not made for cutting. He could add mass like nobody’s business, but cutting back to bring out the definition - it was nearly impossible. If he had Jake’s abilities… his cock hardened painfully, trapped in his jeans, the fly bulging up trying to make room.

“We’ll swing by mine first, so I can pin some T. You can’t be the only one amped up.”

****

HE had provided Brad with everything he needed, syringes, drawing and injecting needles, alcohol swabs - everything the hospital had provided him to inject himself.

Before starting, he checked whether he had sufficient post-cycle drugs. He remembered when he’d first dabbled in roids, he did not use any post cycle therapy. Fuck, that was rough.

Satisfied, he drew up two doses of the short half-life testosterone, and two doses of the longer half-life formulation, and injected one into his left quad, the other into his right quad.

“Let’s have some lunch and let it digest. By the time that’s done, my T should be peaking.”

****

Brad was at half-mast as he fired up the Beast. He chubbed up harder as the engine growled to life, the exhaust roaring, punctuated from time to time by pops and crackles. Fuck she sounded good. And she went even better. He popped the clutch and did a burnout, grinning like a madman. Perhaps Jake was right not to let me drive her, he thought. As the car launched, he chirped the wheels changing between first and second, peeling off toward the gym.

****

As they walked into the gym, Brad could feel the testosterone coursing through his veins. They were both ready to smash.

Jake amped up his biochemistry, higher than before, his balls throbbed and frothed as they got to work pumping him full of testosterone. He could feel it flooding through him, feel his muscles pumped, feel his veins engorging with the vasodilation he’d set, the strength, the power, the virility coursing through every muscle fibre, feeding their growth, their power. His bulge expanded as his cock hardened, the surge of testosterone tingling through the entire shaft and into his glans. Veins popped up all over his body, a roadmap of potency, power, presence.

They’d crush back and biceps today. And, in all likelihood, crush records. As they began, their grunts filled the air of the heavy weight room, along with the mammoth crashes of the epic weights they were both moving, each trying to outdo the other.

****

They were both pumped, lats flaring, traps peaking, veins exploding all over. They would finish with a superset of EZ-curls, preacher curls, and wrist-rollers, blasting their bis and forearms. They were both horned up from the pump of the workout, and the surge of testosterone inundating their systems.

Jake began on the EZ-bar, Brad on the preacher. Jake stood in front of the preacher bench, so they could encourage each other to lift to absolute failure. They were both of similar strength, despite Brad’s significant size advantage, and they both worked with the same weights on each exercise, making the superset easier and more effective by minimising the time between sets.

Their movements were synchronised, blasting the weight up, then a slow, controlled descent for a four count, maximising the time under tension, the damage to the muscles, the future growth. As they curled, their arms pumped, masses of veins lifting from the skin, new vascularity appearing and, on Jake, massive feathering fingers of veins spreading across the surface of his skin, his biceps peak split perfectly showing the individual muscle bellies.

Their muscles screamed, already fatigued muscles being pushed beyond their limit, lactic acid building up into a conflagration under their skin. They roared as they struggled with the final reps, both barely getting the bar to the top of the rep. Normally, the next rep would be a failure, they would not be able to lift the bar to the top of the range of motion, but one of the members stepped in and spotted them, assisting them both to totally wreck their biceps with three more reps. By the third rep, the spotter was almost lifting a substantial part of the total load.

"Thanks, Mark." "Cheers, mate."

"Anytime, boys. Looking fucking swole."

They swapped exercises. Both getting in a quick double biceps pose, pumped peaks swelling their biceps, veins distending and engorging even larger, looking like they were sitting on top of Jake’s skin. Brad’s bis were so pumped, they nearly reached his ears. Their cocks leaked pre as they watched themselves in the gym's mirrors, the feeling of the pump swelling their cocks, encouraging more production of testosterone.

The pump continued as they swapped, Brad using the wrist roller, Jake the preacher bench. Brad’s forearms were ablaze with pain. He roared as his huge wrists pronated and supinated, raising and lowering the weight, the pump unbelievable, his entire forearms pumped tighter than the skin of a drum. New veins bulged even through his lack of definition, massive hoses needed to feed the huge hams hanging off his bones, to clear away lactic acid build up.

Jake’s cock was diamond hard, between the feeling of his own pump, the sight of his own engorged muscles and veins, and watching Brad’s forearms and veins balloon, new vascularity mushrooming across his arms, fresh tributaries appearing to feed his power, he was ready to erupt. Brad’s cock was equally hard, the testosterone he’d pinned peaking right on time, just towards the end of the workout, to maximise his recovery.

They switched to complete the final set, Jake again flexing his biceps, Brad flexing his forearms, enthralled by the veins writhing and pulsating as he flexed and relaxed, his skin so tight it felt like it was ready to burst.

As he rolled the weight up and down, Jake’s forearms were orgasmically grotesque. It looked like he had no skin, just muscles and huge veins feeding them. His forearms rippled with striations as he flexed and relaxed, pronating and supinating his wrists, each muscle raised up, the separations between them so distinct it was like they were carved with a knife. Every inch of his forearms was covered with veins, from massive inch-diameter hoses cording down from his biceps to the finest branching tributaries, his arms were a living anatomy chart. His groans and grunts were part pain, part arousal and, as he completed the final raise of the weight, the rope attaching the weight completely rolled up, he came, massive bursts of cum pumping from his cock, soaking his tiny workout shorts and dribbling down his leg.

“Unngggh.. Fuck that was hot.” He flexed his forearms, prompting his cock to pump harder, twitching and jumping as his cum flooded his shorts.

Brad was so horned up, his cock head peaked from then top of his shorts. Jake was so aroused, he wanted to bring his friend along with him, kneeling down in front of him. Brad hesitated, but only for a moment, freeing his cock and ramming it down Jake’s throat. Jake expertly worked Brad’s cock, and he was cumming in no time, a massive load. Jake swallowed some, but as he milked Brad’s cock dry, he went in for  a kiss, spitting Brad’s cum into his mouth, their beards scratching against each other as their tongues wrestled, their cocks hardening with the pump, their cum, the flood of testosterone. “Let me fuck you,” Jake groaned. Brad groaned, remembering the feel of HIS cock on his prostate. Just imagining Jake’s massive tool pressing and rubbing. They headed for the showers, downing protein shakes on the way to fuel their growth.

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CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED-AND-SEVEN

HE needed to find subjects. HE dialled Amber.

“You’ve called Amber. Sorry I can’t make it to the phone. Leave a message.”

HE hung up.

Maybe HE could find some suitable subjects at the gym. HE changed into a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, and headed over.

****

As HE walked in, HE tweaked HIS testosterone levels a little higher - if HE was going to have to perform, HE wanted to be up to the task. Pun intended.

HE saw Jake and Brad, butterflies fluttering in HIS stomach. They were heading to the showers, they must’ve just finished a workout. HE noted, for scientific rigour of course, that their shorts were both bulging extra large, and Jake’s shorts seemed wet. HE smiled. They’d started without HIM, but HE would join them. HE made a beeline for the showers.

Jake was so horned up he could barely walk straight, not only because the anaconda in his shorts was painfully hard, but the masses of testosterone were addling his brain, allowing him to focus on only one thing. Fucking. Fucking Brad. At the thought, pre gushed from his tented cock.

Brad was almost as horned up, the testosterone he’d pinned earlier now peaking in his bloodstream. They’d just had a fucking awesome workout, and ended with a mind blowing, if short, blowjob from Jake. Jake now wanted to fuck him, and he was all for it.

They stripped, cocks slapping against defined, washboard abs, in Jake’s case, and massive, powerful core in Brad’s. Brad was nervous. Jake was huge. Would he even fit? But the thought of that massive pole smashing on his prostate sent globs of pre pumping from his cock.

They entered the showers, and turned on the water, the hot, massaging spray feeling extra relaxing against their fatigued back muscles.

Jake turned to Brad, kissing him deeply. “Thank you,” he whispered. Whether it was for earlier, with Scott, for the blowjob, or for the penetration about to take place, Brad didn’t know and didn’t care. He flexed his hole, his cock twitching as he flexed and released.

“Afternoon, boys, mind if I join you?”

HE was naked, HIS cock vertical and rock hard, HIS glans almost purple.

Jake groaned, deeply, sensually, animalistically. “Fuck yeah.” HIS protégé had come so far, so quickly.

Jake grabbed Brad’s hips, angling his cock, his glans pressing on Brad’s hole. Brad gasped, the anticipation exquisite. As Jake prepared to invade his hole, HE lined up in front of Brad, demanding his mouth. Brad hesitated, but Jake chose that moment to thrust forward, his glans forcing open his hole. Brad shuddered, and took HIS cock in his mouth. Jake orgasmed with the feeling of Brad’s tight hole, and the knowledge that his friend had allowed him to fuck his hole. Not just allowed, he wanted him to fuck his hole. Looked forward to Jake punishing his prostate.

HE groaned in pleasure. For someone that did not give blowjobs, Brad was working magic. HE supposed it was a side effect of having a dick of his own, he knew what felt good, what he wanted, and was able to replicate that.

Jake pushed forward, slowly, gently, aware that Brad’s hole was not accustomed to any cock, let alone his giant python. As he pushed further in, Brad’s muscles contracted, shooting pleasure through Jake’s shaft and spreading through his body. His balls virtually sizzled, their production pushed to their limits. Brad could feel every nuance as Jake pushed forward. He was gentle, slow, the pain bearable, exquisitely pleasurable.

Jake could sense he was approaching Brad’s prostate. He pushed further until he felt it through his glans and Brad bucked and writhed while impaled on his shaft. They, all three, groaned and moaned with arousal, ferocious, savage pleasure. Jake flexed his cock, engorging it further with blood, and tamping Brad’s prostate. He roared around HIS dick, his own cock bouncing and leaking sweet pre, long strings of it hanging from his tip down to a teardrop until finally breaking off and dripping to the floor, washed away by the shower.

Brad was close, Jake could feel it. He began thrusting in and out, Brad’s tunnel expanding as Jake’s glans pushed further and further inside him. Jake became more and more aroused the further his cock pushed into Brad, each thrust pushing that little bit further, stretching Brad, crashing waves of pleasure slamming through them until, finally, he was thrusting balls deep on each thrust. Jake grabbed Brad’s hips and thrust with all his considerable might, slamming his pubic bone into Brad’s titanic glutes, Jake’s balls smacking into Brad’s as his shaft entered him all the way. Jake alternated between slower, smashing thrusts, and fast bunny fucking.

Brad began cumming, massive ropes of cum shooting from his cock, spraying over his abs and pecs, his face from below, and HIS legs. As he came, Jake’s cock was trapped with each pump of Brad’s cum, Brad’s mammoth muscles flexing and constricting around Jake’s cock. Jake roared and pumped Brad full of his seed, each pump firing so far up into Brad, he thought he would taste Jake's cum in the back of his throat. Instead, he was actually tasting HIS cum as HE ejaculated into his mouth, Brad swallowing like a champ.

HE heard the voices of HIS sperm almost immediately. Those that were swallowed and entered Brad’s stomach were killed almost instantly by his stomach acid, but a few survived in his oesophagus, around his tonsils, in his mouth.

HE instructed the sperm to start tunnelling, HIS cock growing and hardening as HE realised HIS power.

****

As they came down from their orgasmic glow, HE spoke.

“It’s such a pity we have not yet learnt to stick these changes. If we had, Brad, I could make changes like we’ve been making to ourselves, and they would stick.”

HE was surprised when Jake slammed HIM against the tiles, his forearm against HIS neck, cutting off HIS air supply. “What? How? Tell me! EVERYTHING!”

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CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED-AND-EIGHT

“J- Ja- Jak. C- Ca- Can b- br- breath.”

“I said talk,” Jake growled, pressing harder with his forearm.

“Jake, tone it down. Remember you promised,” said Brad.

Jake let up, and HE coughed and spluttered, breathing deeply. “Thanks.”

“Sorry,” Jake looked chagrined, at least, “I got carried away.”

“It’s okay.”

“But, seriously, TELL ME.”

HE explained everything that HE knew. The sperm, their reporting, HIS ability to control them, HIS abilities to control the other person’s subconscious as HIS sperm entered the brain.

Jake was diamond hard, instantly. A huge glob of pre pumping out and dribbling down his vertical shaft. He imagined the possibilities.

“How?”

“I… don’t know. I’d hear the ‘voices’ similar to our subconscious at the start, every time I’d cum. All of a sudden the other day, the ‘voices’ coalesced and I realised it was my sperm. When I came in Alex, I could hear them. When–“

“You came into Alex?”

“Yeah, after our session.”

Jake beamed with pride. “Sorry, go on.”

“Since the sperm voices felt the same as our subconscious voice, I thought maybe they could be controlled too, just like the other voice. I used the boat in a river trick, and it worked. They’d tunnel into the bloodstream, and when they enter the brain I get a new voice that’s the other person’s subconscious, that I can then alter. I made Alex eat a doughnut.”

“Fuck off, he’s cutting. He wouldn’t eat a doughnut.”

“I swear to you. He did. So if we can make the changes stick, then anyone that I cum into, I can make changes to their subconscious. I'm still testing the limits and requirements, but we need the changes to stick, because the sperm don’t survive very long - I suspect the immune system is killing them - and once they’re killed off, I lose the voice, it’s just not there any more, so I can’t make any more changes.”

"Brad, I can tell you pinned testosterone. Two different formulations. Looks like fast and long acting. Two doses each."

"FUCK. That's exactly right."

Brad was fascinated. A little grossed out, freaked out, but also fucking horny as hell. HE could adjust his biochemistry! He could finally cut. His cock swelled.

Jake’s cock spurted more pre, as he considered the possibilities. They COULD stick the changes, HE just didn’t know that yet. Can't know that yet.

Jake slammed him into the tiles again, “YOU have to tell me how YOU got this ability. What did YOU do?”

“Jake…”

“Sorry, sorry. Please, how?”

“I-, I don’t know. I just injected the final test sample–“

“The FINAL sample?”

“Yes, at about 10pm on the second night the tests indicated it would be safe and I injected myself, as I’ve already explained to you, and apologised for lying.”

“The FINAL sample? Not the previous version?”

“No, why would I inject the previous version?”

Jake hurriedly dressed, yelling at Brad to hurry up.

“Woah, woah, what’s the hurry?” Asked Brad.

“Just come ON, I’ll explain on the way. See YOU at work on Monday. Enjoy YOUR workout.”

"I wasn't planning on working out, but that's a great idea. Thanks."

HE ended up talking to HIMSELF as Jake and Brad had hurried off. HE was a little confused, and bewildered. What just happened?

****

"Hopefully HIS workout will buy us a bit of time."

Brad could not believe what he was hearing. Jake had truly lost his mind.

“What the fuck, Jake?”

“It was safe - and I injected myself too.”

“You injected the three of you - two without permission or consent - with an experimental vaccine that, it turns out, wasn’t even the final, verified to be safe, version - did I get that right?”

“Well, yes, when you put it like that it sounds bad.”

“What the fuck other kind of way is there to put it?”

“Look, none of that matters now, we have to get to HIS lab, and I can inject myself with the latest version - just like HIM - then I’d have two doses, like HIM - and I should be able to hear my sperm too, like HIM.”

“Jake… come on. That’s crazy.”

“It’s not. And we can inject you too - you won’t ever need roids again! You can cut! You’ll be even more of a BEAST than you are now.

Imagine, we’d be the only gym in the world where the coaches can guarantee results, guarantee results quicker, easier, side-effect free (well, mostly - a little rage here and there), AND we’d get to fuck pretty much every pro on the planet! We'll make a fucking fortune!

And if that doesn't float your boat, imagine the best sex ever, as you tweak your partners' from the inside out to maximise your pleasure.” Jake groaned, his cock pouring out pre, soaking his briefs, his shorts.

Brad hadn’t considered any of those possibilities. And he WAS insanely jealous of Jake’s abilities - if they worked the way he said they did. He horned up, the Beast roaring as Brad put pedal to the metal. They had to get to HIS lab.

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CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED-AND-NINE

“Think about it Brad, if it works the way HE says it does - the same way my current ability works for me now - we’ll basically be gods among men.”

“I don’t follow.”

“We can influence anyone, all we have to do is get a bit of cum on them. Hell, a bit of pre probably is enough, it usually has some sperm in it,” Jake said.

“Imagine getting arrested. If I get arrested, I just get some sperm on the DA - charges dropped. Cops come to arrest me. I get a bit of pre on them - they let me go. Get some cum on the witness, all of a sudden they remember things differently. It doesn’t even get to the DA at all. All you’d need to do is get horned up - which you could do in an instant with masses of T that would be flowing through your system - grab your dick to smear a bit of pre on your hand and shake hands.”

Jake orgasmed. HE was too naïve to realise the power HE wielded.

“Two words. Sex slaves.”

“Unnngggh. Fuck.” Looks like Brad was orgasming, only now realising the true power they would have.

****

Jake entered the lab, thankful that HE’d given them access.

He checked the sample storage. He frowned. Something didn’t quite add up. He could see the latest version, and the one missing dose, but the previous version had SIX doses missing, when there should only be three missing - the three doses that he’d administered. What the fuck? What happened to the other three doses?

He didn’t have time to properly consider the implications. Quickly, he prepared a dose of the previous version for Brad and two doses of the latest version for him and Brad.

“Now, once we inject, we may not have a lot of time. HE was hospitalised after injecting HIMSELF with the latest version, but I can give you the previous one pretty safely, Amber and I only felt a little under the weather for a few days, and my T levels crashed to virtually nothing - you’ve got the exogenous doses in you, so you’ll probably ride it out just fine.”

“Okay. Well, inject me with the old version, not sure what we should do about the new version.”

Jake swabbed Brad’s massive delt, injecting him with the previous version. Suddenly, he had an idea.

“Scott!” “Alpha Memorial!” It seems they both had the same idea. They’d visit Scott, so that if they collapsed like HE had, they’d already be in hospital.

Quickly, he swabbed himself, and injected his delt with the new formula, his cock swelling as he did so. He performed the same procedure on Brad.

He put the samples back in storage, to ensure they remained viable, and they jumped back in the Beast, heading straight to Alpha Memorial, neither of them knowing how much time they had before they’d collapse, or even if they would collapse.

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CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED-AND-TEN

As Brad drove them to Alpha Memorial (somehow, Brad continued to drive the Beast, Jake had not taken her back, and Brad was enjoying driving her too much to hand her back), Jake considered the three missing doses. What happened to them? Who took them?

“I’m not really feeling any different,” said Brad.

Jake was distracted from his deliberation, “The old version seems to take about 24 hours before symptoms appear. You’ll get some swelling at the injection site, some brain fog with a weird feeling of almost hearing voices in your head - that’s your subconscious stream of thoughts which will take a few days to fully unlock. Your T levels will completely crash, though you’ve got the exogenous doses. The new version, we’re not really sure. HE says he injected himself around 10pm, and Amber found him collapsed the next morning - but we don’t know when he collapsed.”

****

“Do you feel like visitors?”

Scott smiled. “Hey, Brad.” His smile faded, “Uncle Jake.” Jake’s presence was merely being tolerated, he’d take it.

“How’s your father?” Asked Jake.

“He’s out of surgery. They managed to save his spleen. He lost a fair amount of blood, so they had to transfuse him. His face will take a while to heal, but he’ll be okay. Last I heard, he hadn’t woken up yet, and was still in post-op recovery.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Jake said. “Me too,” added Brad.

“Are you?” Scott asked Jake.

“Come on Scott, that’s not fair. No matter what, he’s still my brother. And, he’s your father, you care about him, I care about you, therefore I care about him, no matter what.”

“That’s just the thing, I’m not sure I do care about him. And I’m not sure you should either.”

Brad chimed in, “Don’t say that Scott. I know you’ve had a rough time with him lately, but he’s your dad. As you’ll get older, you’ll realise that, no matter his flaws, his mistakes, he only wanted the best for you.” Brad had a complicated history with his own father, so he was speaking from experience.

“Maybe. But I’m sure your father didn’t want to fuck his brother.”

“I’m no psychologist, but I suspect that’s just a symptom of his suppressed feelings and emotions. He can’t bring himself to accept his urges, his feelings, so he shifts the blame to someone else - that someone being Jake, who also happens to be a physical manifestation of his urges and feelings. He’s both a muscular Adonis who he would be attracted to if it was anyone else but his brother, but also someone that is bisexual, which he can’t accept in himself. Jake then also becomes the primary target of his feelings and urges - both positive and negative.”

It certainly sounded plausible. And it fit the current narrative of his brother’s behaviour. Brad may be onto something.

“How are you, anyway? When are they talking about discharging you?”

“Other than the bruising, they said my kidneys were battered pretty good, their function largely shutting down. There was talk of having to put me on dialysis, but the latest results indicate a bit of a rebound in function, so they may already be recovering. They don’t want to release me until they’re back to normal function. I don’t really feel any different, but apparently you can lose nearly ninety percent of kidney function before major symptoms start setting in.”

Jake paled. “Again, Scott, I’m so, so sorry.” The guilt he was feeling was palpable.

“I accept your apology. I’m not sure I forgive you yet, but I understand the mitigating circumstances.”

Jake went to shake Scott’s hand, and he flinched. Fuck. Scott was scared of him. It would take time to rebuild trust, rebuild their relationship. He supposed he’d be scared of him too if their positions were reversed.

“The police came to interview me earlier. I told them what happened.”

Jake said nothing.

“I told them that dad attacked me, and you were just defending me. If you didn’t intervene, who knows what might have happened. They asked if I wanted to press charges against dad, and I said no.”

“Scott, I–” he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, “You didn’t need to do that. When they interview him and your stories don’t match?”

“Who are they going to believe? What are they going to believe - some story about my uncle going berserk and attacking us both for no reason, or my uncle stepping in as a hero and saving me?”

Brad said, “Rest up, we’re going to be right here. In the main waiting room on this floor.”

****

“You dodged another bullet, it seems, Jakey boy.”

“I didn’t want it to happen like that.”

“The fact that he lied for you is a good sign. He still cares about you, and what happens to you.”

“Did you see him flinch?”

“Yeah, but that will pass.”

“What about Jason?”

“What about him?”

“Should I go and see him?”

“I’m not sure that’s such a great idea.”

“You’re probably right.”

As they bunkered down for a long night, they thought they should’ve brought some pillows. Why did they make the seats so uncomfortable, when they know people will be sitting for hours at a time?

****

Brad woke with a start, wiping the sleep from his eyes. What time was it? 6:00am. He stood, stretching. He stuck his head in Scott’s room, he was sleeping. He struggled to clear the fog of sleep, which he attributed to the poor sleep. He wandered off to find the café and buy himself a coffee.

Brad didn’t realise it was the start of the symptoms, the brain fog already setting in, though he did not hear any odd, unintelligible voices.

****

Jake woke, bleary eyed. He looked around, Brad was not there. What time was it? 6:10am. He stood, stretching. He stuck his head in Scott’s room, he was sleeping. He wandered off to find the café and buy himself a coffee.

As he headed downstairs to the café, he wondered at the lack of any symptoms.

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