Popular Post TQuintA Posted June 30, 2023 Author Popular Post Share Posted June 30, 2023 Chapter 20 Getting five regulars in one day was impossible. I didn’t really think I could do it. One by the end of the day, not even a challenge. Five in four weeks, sure, no problem. But five in one day was lunacy. I only said it to shut Tony up; I never thought I could actually do it. And given my gargantuan dimensions, I didn’t need another shot of Red Miracle. If Tony hadn’t looked so smug when he announced the reward, I probably would’ve just let everything go. Kept my head down, gotten one new regular to keep Tony happy, and move on with my day. But I wanted to see Tony’s face when I made him eat his words. My first new client of the day was easy enough to make a regular. He was a scrawny young man in his early 20s. His choice of clothes and bad shaving job told me everything I needed to know: he had daddy issues. Skinny young things with daddy issues are my bread and butter. When he saw me, he said, “So, you’re Nile?” I nodded, and he got so hard that his knees wobbled. “You’re the biggest man I’ve ever seen.” “I get bigger every week, son.” He smiled when I called him “son.” “Come over here and feel daddy’s bicep.” The young man obediently came over and ran his small, juvenile hand over my mighty, thick, striated, hard bicep. “I like the way you do that, son,” I lied, guessing his father never gave positive reinforcement. Then, I leaned over and kissed him full on the mouth, tickling him with my whiskers. “Can we make this a weekly appointment?” he asked, desperately. I hadn’t even taken off my shirt yet. “Of course,” I consoled him. “Now, what do you want daddy to do?” He pointed at my overburdened crotch. “Can I suck it?” I unzipped, releasing my mammoth 10-incher. “If you can get your mouth around it,” I teased. He kneeled and then tentatively stretched his lips until they fit around my cock had. “That’s a good boy,” I preened. “And when daddy cums. make sure to drink every last drop.” He sucked me off three times that hour. Every time I faked an orgasm for him, I told him just how good he was at making me cum. That he had a skilled and talented mouth, and he was making his daddy proud. I left the suite, fresh from my quickie shower, casually chugging a bottle of water. The cafeteria had metal bottles of ice cold water we could drink any time, but we were discouraged from taking them out of the cafeteria. It wasn’t against the rules to drink them elsewhere, but we were heavily encouraged to drink them in the cafeteria to reduce the consequences of spills. As I closed the door to the suite behind me, I was shocked to find Tony outside the suite, face as smug as ever. “Well?” he asked. I finished the bottle of water and handed it to him. “One down, four to go.” He looked at the empty bottle, puzzled. “You walked in there empty handed. Where did you even get this?” “I fuck half of the guys you assign to hose me down between clients. One was more than happy to help me rehydrate.” My next two clients were regulars who shared a session every 4 to 6 weeks: Timmy (who kind of looked like a younger, normally sized version of me) and his “philandering” husband. For the first time ever, Timmy actually touched my cock and let me put his in my mouth. They raved about my newfound size and vowed to not wait so long before their next visit. My next client, a new one, was a man about my age, maybe a little younger. He introduced himself as Quentin. He had intense mocha-brown eyes, red hair fading into grey, and a body that told me he’d never done a hard day’s labor in his life. His shoulders were broad, though, and he had a firm handshake. “My, those are callused,” he said, taking his hand back quickly. “From the weights,” I assured him, miming an overhead press. “You’re bigger than I thought you’d be,” he said, still rubbing his hand in disbelief at the roughness of my skin. I put my hands on my hips, and flared my lats. “Biggest guy in the house.” “Impressive.” Then, looking at me askance, he asked, “Do you know who I am?” I shook my head. “You know my husband. Nathan.” “Sure, I know Nathan.” That was the virgin in the arranged marriage I’d educated in the ways of sex. “Congrats! The wedding, was, what? last week?” He nodded. “Just got back from the honeymoon. He says you taught him how to make love to a man.” His tone had me worried. This might not be a friendly visit. “He assured me you wouldn’t be opposed.” “I wasn’t,” he said. “I’m not.” Then, he leaned in, and said, “Was he really a virgin before you taught him those tricks?” “That’s what he said,” I assured him. “And, from the blush of embarrassment in his cheeks, the timidness of his touch, and (if I may say so) inexperience in his lovemaking, I think he was telling the truth.” “How many sessions with you did he have?” I held up two fingers. Quentin’s jaw nearly dropped. “Can you teach me?” he asked. “Pardon?” “I’ve slept with scores of men in my time, maybe hundreds. Mostly pleasure boys. My new husband did things that shattered my world and opened my mind.” He awkwardly shuffled his feet. “I couldn’t keep up.” He tapped my chest, awed by its size. “That’s on account of you.” “Likely,” I said. He sat casually on the bed. “Can you teach me too?” He indicated I should sit next to him. “I know it was an arranged marriage. He only married me so our kids could inherit my legacy. But, he’s gorgeous, and caring, and cheerful, and sweet—a good listener. And, after that honeymoon,” he tightened his jaw while delighting in the memory of his husband’s skills, “I want this to be a real marriage.” Then, he let out a long sigh. “And, after that honeymoon, I know I need to step up my game if I want him satisfied.” “I admire your ambition,” I said, unbuttoning Quentin’s shirt. “Today, though, let me take you through the basics.” “I’m going to need more than the basics.” Quentin took off his shirt, and I moved on to undoing his belt. “If you’re as good as Nathan claims you are, I will make this a reoccurring thing.” “Splendid,” I said, and devoured his cock. I spent the rest of the hour teaching Quentin how to be an active receiver. I could tell from his honeymoon stories and his reliance on pleasure boys that he was used to laying back and letting his partner do all of the work. I would not condone that. At the end of his hour, he was flushed and sweaty from the workout, and struggling to stand up. “You’re better than Nathan described.” “I aim to please.” “Thank you. Thank you. A million times thank you.” He looked ready to weep from joy. “I will be coming back weekly, and I will bring Nathan with me.” Quentin tried to rise to walk me to the door like a gentleman, but his knees were still too weak, and he planted face-first on the floor. “I look forward to it,” I said, leaving the room with him still on the floor. When I left the suite, another bottle of water in hand, Tony was there again. “Two down,” I said. “You got Quentin Mathers to become a regular?” he asked, gobsmacked. I nodded. “Governor Quentin Mathers?” “He never told me he was a governor,” I admitted. “Or his last name for that matter.” I shrugged. “He was too busy saying ‘Fuck me’ over and over again.” “He’s a governor, Nile. Our governor.” “I didn’t vote for him,” I teased. While pleasure workers were technically allowed to vote, most houses discouraged it. Tony stood in my way so I couldn’t walk away. “He likes to bounce around from pleasure house to pleasure house, pleasure boy to pleasure boy, never loyal to any of them. You got serial bouncer Quentin Mathers to commit to you?” “And he’s bringing his husband,” I added, giving Tony my empty bottle and pushing him gingerly out of the way. “But his husband was already a regular, so he doesn’t count.” With that, I was on my way. While refueling at second lunch, my fellow pleasure boys wanted to know how well I was doing. In between mouthfuls of broiled chicken, I regaled them with my success. My crew nodded knowingly; everyone else sat in awe. Once I finished, I took no follow-up questions and headed back to my next new client. “You look familiar,” I said when I saw him. He was short, but he clearly worked out. He had nice arms, burly shoulders, a trim waist, and a very shapely butt. His body didn’t look familiar at all. His face didn’t really, either. It was a flattering mélange of soft and cherubic and harsh and masculine, like he was still going through puberty despite clearly being in his 30s. Not even his extremely short blond hair was familiar. It was his eyes. Those sparkling green eyes, like pure beryl. I’d seen those eyes before. Then, it hit me. Those eyes reminded me of a regular client I used to have, long since wiped from my roll of regulars. This client was a professional actor who liked to be treated like a man during sex, despite the misaligned anatomy. Every time, he’d pick a new name and a new role, but there was a lot of overlap in the scenes. No matter the plot of our particular drama that session, part of the fantasy was always that he was cheating with an older man to get back at his husband, who foolishly thought he was a woman. But I hadn’t seen that client for two or three years. “Mar…!” I started, but then he put his fingers on my lips. “It’s Mark now.” “Mark, my man!” I said melodically, hugging him like an old friend. “I’ve missed you! How you been?” “Damn, Nile.” He looked me up and down. “I thought I’d packed on some meat,” he flexed a small but diligent bicep and lifted his shirt to show a nascent four-pack, “but you got fucking huge! I might hit you up for some workout tips after I fuck you.” “Did you leave your husband?” I asked. Mark used to always complain about the husband. “I’m still married to and in love with Jamie. He wasn’t thrilled when I came out, but the entertainment legacy is mine, not his, so he smiles and bears with it. He’s slowly warming up to it.” “Glad to hear it,” I said honestly. “Now, then, if the marriage is going well, and you finally get to live as a man outside these walls, what brings you here?” “Jamie won’t let me fuck him up the ass!” Mark said, frustrated. “He always wants to be on top when we have sex, and I’ve never penetrated him at all. Our sex life kinda makes me feel like a woman, you know?” “I get the frustration,” I said conciliatorily. “And I’d be pleased to let you dominate my ass like the man you’ve always been.” “Thank you!” he said. “Now, bend over!” I’d been fucked by Mark before—he used to bring a strap on to every session. He was practiced and confident—I didn’t have to fake anything with him. He knew how to go deep and press a man’s buttons. As our session was wrapping up and Mark was getting dressed, I commented, “Tell Jamie he’s missing out. You’re good at that.” I didn’t even have to lie. “Thanks,” Mark said, smiling. “Until Jamie gets over his issues, expect me at least once a month. Maybe more.” When I left the session, Tony was waiting there, as I expected. I softly tossed my empty water bottle at the wall next to his head and gloated, “Three down.” My next two sessions encompassed four clients, all regulars. They were two couples I’d been seeing for years. One insisted on having sex while standing. I’d take turns pinning them to the wall, sandwiching them between my muscle mass and the solid walls, railing them with their feet far above the floor. While one was being fucked, the other would fuck me from behind. The fantasy was that they were inhabiting my bulk—that I was just their conduit and when they fucked me up the ass, they became me. I never said a word during our sex to contribute to the fantasy. The other regular couple wanted me to hold heavy objects over my head while they took turns blowing me. They’d increased the frequency of their visits since I started getting bigger. Every time I saw them, they’d bring something heavier than the week before, and they would have me hold it over my head as they tried to bring me to climax. They were never happier than when I rained down sweat and cum over their waiting faces. These regulars were old hat, so dinner was quickly upon me. After dinner, I had my weekly appointment with Adam and Edward. They were thrilled at how huge I was, and Adam had crept up to 190 pounds. We formed a delightful little train (Edward was the engine; I was the caboose). It was pleasant and delicious, but familiar and not groundbreaking. After I bid Adam and Edward goodnight were my final two sessions of the day. Both of them were with new clients. The second to last client of the night was another young man. He had short-cropped black hair, dull grey eyes, a silver earring in his left ear, and a body that told me he didn’t exercise. Just from the way he held himself, he seemed like a virgin. He came in his pants as soon as I opened the door. “Shit! Fuck! Shit!” he said. “You’re Nile?” he asked. “In the flesh,” I said, slowly spinning around so he could take in all of me. “22 years ago,” he explained, “you took my father’s virginity. Two years later, you took my mother’s. They say you changed their lives.” “You want me to take your virginity too?” I asked. “You can’t,” he said. “I already have a committed girlfriend who took my virginity.” “Then, why are you here?” “I want you to change my life.” That didn’t answer my question, but it was at least a starting point. “That I can do,” I said, letting out his cock. Lightning fast, I was on my knees with his cock in my mouth, using every muscle in my tongue, throat, and lips to give concerted attention to his erection. He came again in minutes despite the tame, vanilla quality of the blow job. “Shit. I thought I was going to hate this. It’s why I came fully loaded. I didn’t know men could be such awesome, sexy things,” he said, panting. “Can we ever,” I said, idly flexing my pecs. “I’m straight,” he insisted. “Okay,” I responded. “You wouldn’t be the first straight guy I blew.” “Is it weird that all I want to do now is fuck Olivia—my girlfriend?” he asked. “Not even a little,” I reassured him. “If these were the old days, I’d say she could come and join the fun.” “She knows I’m here. She asked me to come here.” Then, shyly, he added, “I’ve seen the kind of porn Olivia watches. The men are muscular freaks with elephant cocks. I’ve also seen her looking at other guys while we’re on dates. It’s always bigger guys. Muscular guys. Guys with bulges in their crotches. So, I asked for the biggest guy in the house.” “You got him,” I said. “She wants me to tell her everything about tonight.” “Then let’s give you something to talk about,” I said, physically flipping him over. I lubed us up and entered him before he could protest again that he was straight. After I’d fucked him to his third orgasm of the night, he took out his phone. “Can I take a picture of you? For Olivia?” he asked. “Just a second,” I said. Then, I stroked my cock so it would get hard again. “Shoot.” He took the picture and sent it to his girlfriend. His phone beeped almost instantaneously as he received a text back from her. “She wants me to go home while the memory’s still fresh, tell her every detail, and then fuck her.” “Go get her, tiger,” I encouraged. “She never initiates. I always have to initiate.” I continued stroking my cock. “You know she’ll be thinking of me, right?” “Of course. But she’ll be thinking of you while fucking me. Shit, she’ll probably be thinking of the two of us together.” “True,” I said. “Does this make me bi?” he asked. “Only if you want it to,” I responded. Pleased with my answer, he asked another question: “Can I come back next month?” “As often as you want,” I said. “I’ll fuck you good and send you home to your sweetheart.” “Thanks,” he said, and scurried toward the door. “We still have twenty minutes left,” I said. “I want to get home while I still have another load in me,” he said. I strutted out of the suite with yet another bottle of water. Tony was there, standing next to a small cart the house workers used to transport the midnight snacks. “Four down,” I said, handing him my bottle. He tossed it on the cart and handed me a protein shake. I downed the protein shake in one long pull and gave him the empty container back. “Do you have two cocks or something?” he asked. “I’m just really good at my job,” I said and ran my hand across his crotch. He slapped my hand away aggressively. “You still have one client left.” He was trying to sound authoritative, but I could hear the hint of fear in his voice. “No way you can do it.” “Watch me,” I said, walking away while giving my cock a flirtatious squeeze. My final client of the night was a muscular man himself. He was shorter than me by an inch, maybe an inch and a half. He was about my size, maybe a little smaller—but not by much. Still, he was an impressive specimen of man. “Fred,” he said, staring at my massive frame. “Call me Fred. It’s not my real name, but my wife would kill me if she found out I was at a pleasure house. She knows I’m bi and used to fuck everything that moved, but she told me I had to commit to her when we got married. I love her, so I said yes, but I miss fucking around.” “Well, Fred, what brings you here?” “A buddy of mine is a regular of yours—he doesn’t use his real name either because his husband would insist on tagging along. He kept bragging at how big and beefy his pleasure boy was getting, teasing me that you were getting bigger than me. I had to see you for myself. I’m a legacy bodybuilder, and I’m sick of being the big guy. Even when I used to fuck dudes, I was always the big dude. Now, I’m married to this gorgeous, adorable, petite little pixie of a woman, and sometimes…” He trailed off. I flexed into a most muscular. “You want a giant fucking muscle brute to make you feel like a petite little pixie.” “Exactly,” he said, sizing me up in the way only a seasoned professional can. “You are bigger than me, but not by much.” In two wide strides, swinging my legs around each other so I didn’t trip, I was in front of him, and lifted him over my head. “Big enough?” I asked. His cock tented his pants. I put him back down and whipped out my cock. I was easily three times as big as his. “How about this? This big enough?” Fred drooled. I fucked him senseless, the whole time proving to him that he was smaller than me in every way. It was a trip to be fucking a massive man, feeling my steely muscles colliding into his own strong physique, and overpowering him. It was heady. Ego-boosting. A real cock-stiffener to realize that I was more defined, bigger, and stronger than a legacy professional. As I domineered him, I called him dainty, and precious, and darling. Any diminutive word I could think of. At the end of the hour, he was covered in cum and smiling blissfully. I was surprised how much he could cum considering how small his junk was. “Can I come back same time next week?” he asked. “I’ll be even bigger,” I told him. Fred came again at the thought, a little spurt drizzling from his tiny cock. When I left the suite, Tony was standing there, a pleased look on his face. “Five for five?” he asked. “Five for five,” I assured him, handing him my empty bottle. “I never even had to use my magic phrase today.” “You know I goaded you into this, right?” he asked. I shook my head. I had hoped he’d be blind with anger and lose his temper, but I was beyond such petty concerns. “Don’t care. I had a good day.” He then injected a syringe of the Red Miracle into my arm. I looked down in shock; I’d forgotten all about the reward. Chidingly, he said, “Have fun with this, boy.” 27 3 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Louis24689383 Posted June 30, 2023 Share Posted June 30, 2023 What's the number of that pleasure house, just asking for a friend. Nile'll be about 333lbs by the next weigh-in, or maybe more 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
arpeejay Posted June 30, 2023 Share Posted June 30, 2023 All My Buttons! Again! 1 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mdlftr Posted June 30, 2023 Share Posted June 30, 2023 Chilling - "Have fun with this, boy." 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ro20316 Posted July 1, 2023 Share Posted July 1, 2023 OMG. He injected Nile the "reward" but could it be really that "red miracle" or he just put tha stuff that makes u addicted and bloated to fuck nile's cances up 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jwood Posted July 1, 2023 Share Posted July 1, 2023 If I had Nile for a whole hour, I wonder if I could just talk to him? 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted July 1, 2023 Author Share Posted July 1, 2023 1 minute ago, jwood said: If I had Nile for a whole hour, I wonder if I could just talk to him? Yes. And he'd do his best to make it the most wonderful conversation you ever had. 6 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Demandred Posted July 1, 2023 Share Posted July 1, 2023 I feel very fortunate that we have someone as talented a writer as TQuintA on these forums, posting such long and captivating stories for us. I still reread Hey, Big Guy every so often and I know I'll be coming back to this story as well. I love the quietly sinister dystopian vibe I get in the background of all this. It makes me want to know more about the outside world - but seeing this microcosmic society at work in isolation is part of the appeal and allure too. Looking forward to more escapades from Nile and his growing colleagues. 5 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted July 1, 2023 Author Share Posted July 1, 2023 Chapter 21 I don’t remember walking back to my room. I don’t remember having a midnight snack or showering or getting into bed. The next thing I knew, it was morning, and Onyx was fucking me hard and thoroughly. My eyes were still closed tight, but I was aware enough to put together what was happening. I could feel some morning light trying to creep in through my shut lids. I could feel Onyx’s mass on top of me. I could feel how much larger his cock had gotten since he started taking dimefidone. I could feel his tongue and lips as he sucked my left nipple, parting my chest hair and teasing the nipple to within an inch of its life. My nerves were all alive with delight and sensation. Electricity danced from the depths of my ass to the tip of my cock to the edges of my nipples to the center of my brain. Soon, I was erupting cum fiercely and voluminously, quaking with an orgasm so powerful that I shook the bed just by quivering in pleasure. “Holy fuck, Onyx,” I said. Eyes still closed, I pulled his face to mine and began kissing him. “You gave me your A game this morning.” “He fully returns,” Onyx said, shifting his weight to lie by my side. “Welcome back.” “Yeah. I don’t remember anything after Tony gave me a dose of Red Miracle last night.” “Nile, darling,” Onyx purred, “that was last week.” “What?” I said, sitting up forcefully and finally opening my eyes. And that’s when I knew it had to be true. I could feel all the extra mass on top of me, and my pecs were jutting out too far for only one night to have passed. I struggled with my weight as I hobbled my way out of the bed. I waddled my way over to my floor-length mirror, feeling how ridiculously thick my legs were. I overfilled the mirror. There was too much of me to take in all at once. I was impossibly wide, impossibly thick, impossibly bulging. My pecs were giant and ribbed with striations, the meat dimpling near my armpits as my body did its best to connect all the meat to my bones. My abs were so thick and hard that they looked angry, even coated in fur and jizz. My arms were overinflated with beef, pushed up and out by my cobra hood of lats. My neck and shoulders were so thick that turning my head from side to side was an entirely new and erotic experience as I felt each individual muscle fiber flex and fight for space. My chest stuck out so far over my comparatively small waist, but thankfully I had a giant, muscular ass to counterbalance the weight, or I’d tip over. My cock and balls dangled between my legs. My balls looked overfull despite having just cum. My cock was deflating, but looked like a deadly weapon even in its semi-soft state. “Holy fuck,” I repeated. I touched my face, which was even more severe and masculine, especially since I apparently hadn’t been to the salon to have my beard trimmed. As I touched my face, I couldn’t help but feel my bicep collide with my chest and shoulder. I could reach my face, but there was a lot of me in the way. “Holy fuck,” I said a third time. “You were 332.5 at yesterday’s weigh in.” “I believe it,” I said, marveling at my size. My cock was becoming erect again at the breathtaking beauty of my own immensity. “How big is my cock?” I asked the universe, not expecting an answer. Onyx had one. “11 inches. Mr. Lucky. I’m only up to 7.75” I turned around to look at Onyx’s cock, and that’s when I saw all of him. He was lying resplendent on my bed, his muscles bulging and crashing into each other. In his recumbent posture, his pecs were threatening to swallow his face, and his arms, hands tucked behind his head, bulged so largely, and so covered with intense sinew, as to be obscene just in themselves. “I know. Holy fuck,” Onyx said, pre-empting my line. “I was 269 at yesterday’s weigh-in.” He sat up and tilted his head to the side quizzically. “Do you really not remember any of last week?” I shook my head. “Not one second. It feels like just moments ago, Tony injected me.” “Shower and get dressed for breakfast,” Onyx said, hopping out of my bead, his feet thudding loudly and his thighs rippling with mass as he landed on the floor. “Your gym clothes should still fit, but you’re gonna have to go clothes shopping after your morning workout.” I meekly obeyed. The shower felt indescribably small. Just yesterday… “Last week,” I reminded myself. Just last week, the shower had felt small but somewhat reasonably size. Now, it was a barely manageable, tight fit. I was squeezed in between the wall and the glass shower door. If I flexed hard enough, I could probably destroy the whole thing. And washing was an interesting challenge. My muscles kept getting in the way of everything I had to do. My biceps surging made it a fight to wash my face, back, and hair. My chest protruding made it a struggle to wash my armpits and abs; hell, they made it a challenge just to look down. My legs and ass had such large circumferences that washing them made my pecs and biceps collide into each other all over again. The whole time, the sheer erotic novelty of having such an oversized body made my cock hard the whole time. It was huge, thick, pulsing, and gigantic. It no longer felt like my cock. It felt like a separate entity, a large alien mound of flesh somehow attached to and growing out of my body like an overfed, bloodsucking leech. I wasn’t going to fit in my clients’ hands, let alone their mouths or asses. I got clean, but I was getting too big for a normal shower, even with scrub brushes. I forced myself into my gym clothes; my bulging obscenely, showing off every last curve and heft of mass. I slowly trudged to the cafeteria, my legs a constant impediment to the process. Onyx, Krakatoa, and Slate were already at a table together, so I joined them. Slate and Krakatoa looked huge too, and Slate’s erection specifically looked nearer to 9 inches than felt mathematically possible. I was going to get my food, but Krakatoa got my attention, slapping a full tray. “We already loaded you up, bro. Onyx filled us in. We figured you’d be fuzzy this morning after your crash landing.” “You truly don’t remember anything about last week?” Slate asked. “Not a jot.” “I’m not surprised,” Krakatoa said. “You spent the whole week grunting about how big and manly you were.” “And you didn’t recognize any of us,” Onyx added. “You kept asking me who I was,” Slate said. “And when I told you I was Slate, you said ‘Too big. Slate smaller.’ Seriously. That’s what you said, word for word. You sounded like a caveman.” “And you called me Gavin three times in the heights of orgasm,” Onyx said. “Whoever that is.” “How many clients did I lose?” I asked, dreading the answer. “None,” Onyx replied. “According to Tony, you gained three more regulars.” Tony had made me keep all my appointments despite having the limited intellect of a well-trained dog. Even in that state, though, I know that I would never have done anything I’d later regret. I didn’t feel violated—I knew I should, but I didn’t. I was just… surprised. “Your clients had a blast last week,” Krakatoa said. “We know for a fact.” “They were hard to ignore,” Slate said. “They screamed so loudly. The right kind of screams.” “A lot of sex moans,” Krakatoa said. “Very loud ones.” “No screams of pain?” I asked. “None that Tony head,” Onyx said. “And he was eavesdropping.” By this point, I had finished my breakfast. I looked down at my bloated mass of muscle in shock and awe. “How huge am I gonna be if I keep pushing myself like this for four more weeks?” “Three weeks,” Slate reminded me. “You’ll be alpha god king on high,” Krakatoa said, trying to boost my ego. “He already is alpha god king on high,” Slate responded. “In three more weeks, he’ll make an alpha god king on high look like a pipsqueak.” “I finished round two, right?” I asked. They nodded. “So have three others,” Slate beamed. “Onyx and me made it while you were in dreamland.” He pointed at Krakatoa derisively. “Somebody here hasn’t.” “I just need another half an inch on my dick,” Krakatoa said. “I’ve met the other three goals. I’ll make it soon enough.” “I’m not gonna work out today,” I said flatly. “What?” Onyx said that so forcefully that he sprayed out some of his food. “I misspoke,” I replied. “I’ll keep going to the gym with you. I’ll keep working out just enough to maintain this physique. I’ll keep pushing you hard. I’m not going back on my promise.” “Yes, you are,” Onyx accused. “You promised you’d get bigger and bigger as a motivation for me. If you crap out now, you become a finish line I can cross.” “I have more than 60 pounds on you, Onyx,” I pointed out. “If you keep piling on mass at the same rate you have been, I’ll still have more than 30 pounds on you in three weeks.” Onyx was having none of it. “But if you’re not pushing yourself to the limit, I won’t either. I’ll slow down and get lazy. The whole house will. They’re not gunning for you anymore, Nile. They respect you now. All of them. They practically worship you. They see you as a demigod the bigger you get, especially after you got five new regulars in one day. It’s not just me you have to get bigger for anymore.” “I’m gonna retire in a year,” I reminded him. “How practical is a body like this going to be outside a pleasure house?” “I need an accountability buddy,” Onyx insisted. “You want to get bigger; you get a buddy. You taught me that.” “And, as I said, I’ll keep pushing you, I promise. But we both have to think long-term, here. You’re preparing your body for a niche pleasure house focused on a size fetish. I’m preparing myself for an easy slide into retirement. You’re going to be here about 24 more years. I’m not even going to be here 24 more months.” Onyx scowled. I expected a flash of temper, maybe even him throwing things, but he just scowled angrily. Slate cleared his throat. “Let me try to make peace here. What do you even want to do when you retire, Nile? I mean, depending on what you want to do when you leave, a bigger body might not be an impediment.” “He wants to read,” Onyx spat. “Then, who cares how big you are?” Slate asked. “You get big enough, you can prop the books on you pecs like a bookshelf and turn the pages with your nose.” “This body requires a lot of upkeep,” I explained. “So would slimming down.” “You’re a disciplined dude,” Krakatoa said. “I know you could do whatever you set your mind to.” “Financial upkeep,” I clarified. “I eat a lot of food; outside a pleasure house food costs money, and more food costs more money. I take up a lot of space; outside a pleasure house, a place to live costs money, and a larger place costs more money. The chemicals I’m on cost a small fortune. If I just stop taking them all at once, I will fry my nervous system. If I keep taking them the rest of my life, it will eat up a lot of my pension. That’s why I was intentionally slimming down before we started going niche.” “You could win this thing,” Onyx dared. “Tony told me what happens if you win the whole competition. And that would solve all your problems.” “What happens if Nile wins?” Slate asked, practically salivating. “Double pension,” Onyx taunted. Slate started hyperventilating. Once he caught his breath, he said, “Nile, for a double pension, I would get five times as big as you and become an immobile boulder of muscle and cock. With a double pension, I could afford a giant mansion, all the food and pharmaceuticals it would take to keep me huge and healthy, and still have enough money left over to get a harem of beautiful, large-breasted women to attend to my every want and need.” “Nile’s gay,” Krakatoa said. “Then his harem can be full of hung studs,” Slate replied flippantly. Krakatoa turned to me. “Bro, quit lying. We all know you get off on being big.” “I do,” I admitted. These men’s ages added together was less than mine. And yet, I outclassed these young, strapping lads by a country mile. My cock twitched seeing how much bigger I was than the three muscular men at the table with me. “I really do.” “Then buck up, and get bigger,” Onyx said. “This is why I needed an accountability buddy,” I admitted. “I knew I would falter. I knew my resolve would flag. I am so close to being done that I just want to be all-the-way done. Thanks, Onyx. I lost myself for a bit there.” Onyx smiled by way of thank you, but I could see an idea forming behind his eyes. 27 1 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
arpeejay Posted July 2, 2023 Share Posted July 2, 2023 Here's hoping that Nile not only continues to outpace everyone in growth but that he outpaced them in rate of growth. It's great that he outweighs Onyx by 60 lbs. but I don't think Onyx is going to be crying if the differential is 80 lbs. or 100 lbs. Time for Nile to embrace his mass monster destiny! 3 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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