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Stepdad Growth. Max’s Arrival. (New chapter added 6-20)


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  • bbmikenj changed the title to Stepdad Growth. Max’s Arrival. (New chapter added 6-15)

Fuck. He is the MAN of the house now and who knew the stepson had a kink for muscles.

Stepdad has transformes and will continue to do it. Amazing.

He asked for a second set of the trial. Who will he give it to?

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I expect the wife will come home and be terrified of her newly massive husband due to his new size and previous experience with the big boxer.  She has to tell her husband the truth about their attraction.  She felt he was safe and not abusive because he could be controlled if needed.  She probably does love him, but wishes he had the muscle too.  She gets her wish, she just has to learn that not all hulking muscle men are abusive.  Then they both really get off on it.  I could see her working out with him just to watch his muscles inflate bigger.  Maybe she gets a little bigger herself.  They go on vacation, she enjoys her husband going everywhere scantily clad and constantly showing off his muscle to her. 

Maybe they encounter the boxer.

I wonder if she'll have a thing for her son getting smaller and weaker.  There may be hidden disdain for him because he was the boxer's son and needs to be controlled. 

So many ways this can go!

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Truly love this story. Great writing. Great characters. I’m hopeful the stepdad grows his stepson and the other model to be his toys….and more. Can’t wait for more! Thank you. 

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On 6/15/2022 at 10:12 PM, Ro20316 said:

Fuck. He is the MAN of the house now and who knew the stepson had a kink for muscles.

Stepdad has transformes and will continue to do it. Amazing.

He asked for a second set of the trial. Who will he give it to?

I think what he asked for was the estrogen disguised as Dianabol that he knows his stepson is stealing from him, not a second set of the drugs he is taking himself. That's why Max is getting softer, weaker and more emotional, despite taking what he thinks is steroids.

That said, this chapter was off-the-charts hot! Charlie's ever increasing size and strength are such a turn on. I'm glad he is still getting taller in addition to more muscular and stronger. The fact that the "big, tough jock" Max fell for him like a little puppy just makes it all the better!

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  • bbmikenj changed the title to Stepdad Growth. Max’s Arrival. (New chapter added 6-20)

quoting bbmikenj:

The next day, I was out by the pool, working my arms and shoulders. I’d carried the pec deck and the bench press out from the gym, for an outdoor workout. I didn’t fit into the pec deck anymore, so I was using it for overhead presses, lifting the whole machine for sets of 40 reps. It gave my delt caps a nice pump, swelling them up to the size of distorted basketballs. I was wearing UA shorts and no shirt. I liked seeing my reflection in the glass of the gym windows. My big hulking frame. I’d flex and admire myself. Even my veins had veins.

As I was loading up the bench press bar with three 100lbs plates on each side, Max came out. He was home early from work. He looked stressed out.

“Rough day?” I asked him.

“You could say that.” Then he said, “You really using 600lbs as your bench press warmup?”

“645, actually, when you add in the bar. But I’m not benching it.”


“Nope.” I straddled the bench and walked up to the bar, grabbed it, then started doing curls. 

“Fuck,” said Max, as I repped out slow, controlled curls with 645lbs. Then, for good measure, I leaned over and did 20 reps of reverse bent over rows, before slamming the bar back on the rack. 

“Not bad for an old man, hey Maxie?” I said, as I turned and flexed my engorged arms and delts at him. 

“Holy shit,” he said, sitting himself down on a pool chair. He was already hard. I sat down on the bench.

“Something happen at work today?” I asked him.

“Yeh. It wasn’t good. You know, when I first started this gig, I figured the kids for a bunch of losers, but I got tot asking with some of them, and heard what kinda fucked up shit that happened to them, I could get why they were pissed at the world.”

Hmm. Max, being empathetic, towards other people. That fucking estrogen.

“But then today, one of them threw a candy bar at me, hit me right in the head. It didn’t even hurt that much, but I got choked up.”

“Oh, no. Did you cry?”


“Right in front of them?”

“Yeh. And they started laughing at me, calling me faggot, and throwing more stuff. The guards had to break it up. I can’t go back there…I can’t…” Tears were forming in his eyes. I was beginning to miss the old Max.

“It’s okay, Bucko,” I said. I reached out to him and put my hand on the side of his face. Not long ago, he would have jerked his head away from my touch, but now, he leaned into my hand like a puppy. I realized that my hand had gotten so big that, if I wanted, I could palm his head and crack his skull with my grip. Instead, I caressed a tear away from the bottom of his eye with my meaty thumb. “I’ll make this better,” I said. “Go upstairs and take a shower. I’ll be up in a minute.” I think Max thought I was planning on coming up to fuck his brains out, and he did perk up, but I had other thoughts in mind, for the moment anyway. After he went inside, I got my phone and called the modeling agency, and politely requested that they find other work for Max. The woman on the phone was thrilled. “You know, we all felt that Max’s exceptional looks were being wasted there. We have so many better positions for him.” Yeah, I thought lustfully, so do I.

As Max showered, I got a bag and went around the house, putting some things together. I went up to his room just as he was coming out of the shower. He was naked, toweling off his thick hair. The agency lady had been right about his exceptional looks. If anything, the estrogen had made him look even more radiant. I reached into my bag and pulled out a syringe. “I’ve got something that’s going to help,” I said.

“Is it what you’re on?” he asked.

“Yes.” I didn’t tell him that it wasn’t all I was on. The last thing I needed is for a genetically gifted athlete in his prime to get on the full stack I’d been using. It made me shiver at the thought of what he might become.

Max turned around, grabbed the door jam, and bent over. His perfect ass made my dick jump. I walked over to him. “You ready?” I asked.

“Pin me, Daddy,” he answered. I took the cap off the syringe and jabbed the needle into his flawless skin. I emptied the oil into him. I pulled out the needle, then grabbed a big handful of his wrestler’s butt cheek and massaged the test into it with my powerful fingers. 

When I stopped, I put away the syringe and pulled out a tube of K-Y. “You ready for another kind of injection?” I asked him. He turned around and dropped his towel. I took that as a yes. “Oh, and by the way, stop taking those pills you’re stealing from the cabinet downstairs.”

“The what…?” He look stunned.

“The pills. From the cabinet. They’re not what you think they are.”

“They’re not?” He said, without even trying to deny that he was taking them.

“No. They’re not Dianabol. It’s estrogen.”

This took awhile to sink in. “The fuck…” he said. “How?”

“I switched them out. Just in case you decided to steal from me. Which you did.”

His face flushed red, either from anger or shame. Maybe both. He clenched his fists. “You psycho,” he said, and came at me. He pounded on my chest with his fists. He may as well have been pounding on a rhino hide. My 79” chest soaked in his blows easily. I heaved it out at him, which made him even madder. “That all you got, girlie boy?”

“I hate you,” he said.

“You stole from me,” I said, looking down at him over my big chest shelf.

“You tricked me!” He pounded and pounded.

“Little thief,” I said. I walked into him, moving him back.

“I hate you,” he repeated, like pre-teen brat who’d just had his phone taken away.

“I hate you more,” I said, mocking him. I grabbed him and lifted him, my hands on his upper torso. His feet dangled. “I should crush your thieving ribcage like an eggshell,” I said.

“Do it, fuckface,” he dared me. 

I lifted him higher and squeezed, not hard enough to break him, but enough to hear the air whoosh out of his lungs. He kicked at my thickly muscled abs, but it was like kicking tractor tire treads. He was just hurting his feet. “Tiny little weakling,” I snarled, shaking him.

“Juicehead freak,” he wheezed. I squeezed harder. His dick swelled. I lifted him higher and held him overhead like a ballerina. I tilted my head back on my thick neck and lowered his cock in my mouth. He let out a loud groan of pleasure. “Use me,” he gurgled. I squeezed him harder and felt his ribs compress. It was like I was squeezing a tube of toothpaste; his precum was already oozing out of him. I pumped him up and down with my big arms. This wasn’t going to take long. Who knew anger sex could be so stimulating. I was raging hard myself, and I was going to drain every drop of jock cum outta the little fucker.

Despite the estrogen, he came long and hard. I finished him off, and tossed him onto his bed. His face was a little blue, so I let him catch his wind as I lubed myself up good. Then I mounted him, and for the next hour, I used his tight squeezebox as my own personal depository. Over and over, without pulling out, stretching his hole with my giant dick, making him beg for more. My very own size queen stepson, pleading for me to breed him. Sometimes, I imagined him being his dad. That’s when my eyes would glaze over in revenge rage. New daddy fucking old daddy. Oh, how I would fuck that guy up if I met him. That’s when I had to remember to hold back my thrusts, so as not to damage Max’s insides. Although he seemed to love it. He took every load.

I wondered if all my gear-laced batter would effect his rebound from the estrogen.  It couldn’t though, could it? Not too much anyway, I figured. 



Amazing!  I couldn’t read the black on black text so reposting this hot shit in plain text!

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