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muscle growth The Lycanthrope Genome (Part 5 of ?)
ravenweremuscle posted a topic in StoriesCheck out the previous four parts here: Part 5: The Changes Are Everywhere "No…..no…..stop moving…..I will have to kill you…..I warned you…..uhhhh" Before the dream goes any further, Valentin always wakes up. He has had to revisit it over and over again for weeks, maybe even months at a time. Those few crazy weeks from a couple of years ago where he had to vanquish Domino, Carlos, and a few others keeps being replayed in his mind for some reason and he can't quite figure out why. He is breathing heavily from where the dream ends and has once again soaked the bed in Bulgarian sweat. A cool breeze is flowing through his Canadian apartment but it isn't enough to stop the steam emanating from his naked olive skin. He jumps to his feet and walks over to the bathroom light to turn it on. He stares into the mirror and places his right hand over top of the scars he received from that day. Sometimes he wonders if having an immunity to all were viruses is a curse rather than a blessing. He hasn't spoken to his wishmaster in several years and thinks that maybe he should go visit him in the near future to show him what has resulted from the gift he gave him. For now though, he needs to focus all of his energy on not only stopping the new lycanthrope invasion, but also to build himself up physically. He is scanning his hairy wet body with his hazel-colored eyes and is noticing how much bigger he is now compared to where he was before he started taking the serum. It was formulated for him by Dr. Genesis, a man he met last year after making the move to Canada. The man was given a book that was found at the company where the original lycanthrope massacre occurred. It was discovered by Nathan and Roman after most of the dead bodies were taken to the morgue in a false wall. It appeared that Domino and the organization he worked for were trying to hide their scientific secrets from the Bulgarians fearing that it would end up in the hands of someone in Sofia. The three men managed to get out the facility before the emergency personnel got there. At the time, nobody could understand why the van was completely destroyed, but later on they would get their answer. They ended up having to hide in a nearby storage facility by breaking into one of the units. They stayed there until morning when Valentin told the other two men that they needed to find a way out of the city before they would be sought by the authorities. They agreed and went their separate ways from the Bulgarian. That would be the last time he would see them. He also thought it would be a good idea to keep a low profile for a while so he disappeared. He however also realized after that ordeal that he would need to focus more on matching up with his opponents and not letting them overtake him anymore. He immediately started a new training program shortly after in solitude. He was decently built from when he had to deal with Domino's wolfy side since he knew that he would probably have to protect himself if something were to go wrong through their interactions. He is now rubbing his left hand along each of the other scars he has earned since the massacre located on his thick, furry pecs and the huge slabs beneath them. He is amazed that he has been able to transform himself into the man that he is now. "I am still learning more about myself every day it appears. I wonder how much further I can go with this serum." He takes his right hand off of his wide neck to do a few flexes in the mirror with his arms. He leans in to stare at the huge garden hoses bulging from his softball-sized forearms as they stretch all the way up to his furry bloated shoulders. He stops flexing to look down at the sink and picks up a vial full of a clear fluid. He unscrews the dropper from the top and sticks it up to his mouth. He opens and lifts his tongue to place two drops of the fluid underneath before closing his mouth and screwing the dropper back on to the top of the vial. He puts it down back to where it was sitting and stands back about a foot from the mirror. He is completely nude as he turns to his side and then turns slightly to take a look at his backside as it is aimed at the mirror. He starts flexing again, this time to make his back flare outward. He still can't fathom how he got this big so quickly. He has seen a few bodybuilders up in Canada pose like this so he wanted to know how it felt since he is getting to their level. He can feel his lats pushing his arms out even further to his sides as his delts and traps swell even bigger than before he took the serum just now. He can feel the hormones starting to flow through him and it is making his cock expand and lengthen as a result. Before he started taking the serum several months ago, he was never able to precum, but that all changed after just a couple of doses. A small ribbon of the sticky goo is slowly rolling down the side of his shaft and it is coating his swollen golf-ball sized testicles. He is feeling pretty good now. He is now flexing his furry quads and hamstrings, watching the thick striations in both legs ripple and glisten in the light. The layer of dark-colored Bulgarian fur is much thicker than he remembers, but he loves that he is able to cover what used to be barren areas of his body. The sensations from the serum are now traveling from his crotch all the way down to his feet. He loves the way the serum makes him feel after having a stressful dream, and it is more pleasurable than using his own hand on his cock. He is proud of growing his huge ass from all of those grueling squats he has endured over the past several months as well. He rubs both glutes with his hands and caresses the fur that is over top of them. He checks his anus and makes it wink a couple of times and chuckles to himself. He found out that he preferred being a bottom back when he was with Domino, but with his thicker frame now, it has opened the door to new possibilities including overpowering bigger lovers. He grunts feeling his balls filling up with fresh cum and it is now making his ass ache. He really needs to be with someone at that moment that can put him over the edge and not let it be a complete waste of time. Posing in front of a mirror is nice once in a while, but he is feeling pumped and exceptionally horny after taking this dose for some reason. He knows exactly who he needs to call. He stops staring at himself and leaves the bathroom to go find his cell phone. His hard 9-inch cock is slapping his hairy six slabs of granite with each leap he makes through the room making them contract as they sling precum through each abdominal gap all the way up to the underside of his meaty pecs. He takes one of his fingers to lap up a bit of it and places it on his tongue. He sighs briefly before reaching down to get the phone from his end table and dials up a close Canadian friend that he knows. "Lenny…..what is wrong? For you to call me at this hour, it has to be important eh?" "You could say that Wilson, I am feeling the need for some company. If you know what I mean baby?" The Canadian grunts a few times and laughs. "Ohh, I know exactly what you are telling me. I will be there in a bit, don't you dare spill any of that cum while I am not there. It is always better to share, right?" Val's entire body is glistening with sweat as he hangs up the phone and puts it back on the end table beside his bed. His balls are swelling now making his ballsac stretch and hang further down in between his immense legs. He can feel his asshole pulsing in anticipation of being penetrated. He decides to walk over and stand beside his apartment door to wait for Wilson. He is rubbing his hands on his massively veiny 22-inch guns and flexes his giant horseshoe triceps to trace his fingers on them. He can't remember the last time he has been entranced so much by his own body as he continues to preoccupy himself. He remembers that Wilson hasn't seen him for a while and will be surprised to see how much bigger he has grown since their last outing together. After ten minutes of standing there entertaining himself and leaking a puddle of pre on the floor, there is a heavy knock on the door. An incredibly deep masculine voice rumbles a few words on the other side. "Your savior is here man. Let this beast in and we can get the show started, don't you agree?" His voice alone sends sensations up and down Valentin's well-muscled back as he cracks the door open just enough to take a look at the Canadian lumberjack, who has his enormous left arm sitting on the door frame and his right boot is tapping the ground. Wilson is even bigger than he remembers him. He is wearing a plaid top with just three buttons on the top of it, beneath the longest mane of hair Val has seen on a man. He can tell that the top button is undone and quite frankly it would have been launched airborne anyway if it had in fact been buttoned. His chest is so wide that the two other buttons are struggling to stay intact. His breathing is labored which isn't unusual for him because he has a tendency to make "errs" and "rrraahhhs", even when he isn't talking. He again notices how well-groomed the Canadian's mane is and how it stretches halfway down his bloated pecs and thick muscle gut. Wilson immediately notices that Valentin has cracked the door open and is laughing. He walks over to him and reaches in with his right arm, where his bloated right bicep is literally starting to break the chain on the door. He is petting the wet Bulgarian's huge ass and sighs in his ridiculously deep Canadian accent. "EEERRRRMMMMM, I will break this door down Val to get to you. You are making me FUCKING HARD as a tree trunk right now. RRRRAAAAHHHH!" Wilson feels the right sleeve on his shirt rip all the way up to his traps and he loves every second of it. Other tenants are now opening their doors to see what is going on. The volume of the big hulk's voice is attracting unwanted attention now. He turns to look at all of them with a mean look on his face. "Go back into your rooms. This has nothing to do with any of you. Me and the gentleman are together, you got it?" The latch on the door finally gives way as it flings open. Wilson's beautiful green eyes enlarge seeing Valentin and his even more incredibly huge muscular body. He walks in and quickly closes the door before locking it behind him. He then reaches down with his bloated right hand and starts slowly ripping his shirt off. The Bulgarian knows how much his Canadian friend loves to savor his power and why clothing is no match for him. It only takes a few seconds before he manages to tear it completely off his insanely huge, hairy, hulking upper body. He motions for Valentin to come to him. "Come over here and let's compare. I want to know what it feels like to have our chests pressed up against each other." Val wastes no time as he walks over to him and tries to line up his pecs with his Canadian counterpart's. Their erect nipples are pretty close in alignment barring a few pounds of course since Wilson's chest is probably a few inches larger. The nips meet a few times sending ripples through both hulk's bodies. The Canadian moans deeply feeling their pecs pressing up against each other feeling their heartbeats align as he marvels at how much his friend has grown since the last time he saw him. Their faces are nearly a foot apart and it is really starting to heat Wilson up. "FFFUUUCCCKKK! ERRMMM…." He looks down and notices how tight his pants are and wonders how much longer they can withstand the beast throbbing within them. His cock is being coaxed by his partner's, which is touching the flap that leads to his zipper. He smirks a little and looks back up at Val. "I would tear these pants off right now, but I rather like them. It isn't easy to find comfortable clothing to wear over top of these giant logs, you know?" He slowly undoes his well-worn pair of jeans to make his beastly monster flop out to smack the Bulgarian's own meaty tool. He then pulls them down below his thick ass and hamstrings, while at the same time, kicking his boots off into different directions, before finally tossing them to the side. He moves back up into the same position again and is rubbing his 11-inch rod up against Val's slightly smaller one. He lets out a grunt as a stream of pre shoots out of his slit and runs down both of their cocks. The sensation on Valentin's cock is enough for him to spill a bit too as they begin mixing fluids together making both of them moan deeply. "I haven't been this turned out in months Lenny. Let's not waste another moment eh?" He immediately reaches down to pick up his partner around the waist with a giant bearhug and has to stabilize his back a bit to adjust to Val's noticeable weight difference. The excited Bulgarian lets out a loud sigh which makes his Canadian counterpart respond with a deep growl. They are staring into each other's eyes while Wilson moves his giant hands down to Val's immense ass to cup both glutes. "RRRRAHHH! You are FUCKING beautiful Valentin, never more so than at this very moment." For a few seconds, the huge musclebear feels a bit lightheaded from the extreme rush he is experiencing and realizes that the beast inside him is probably trying to surface so he closes his eyes to try and keep from showing his anxiety. "OHH SHIT…..I can't let him out right now. I will end up destroying….." Valentin stops him from continuing his train of thought long enough to slide himself over top of the Canadian behemoth's bloated cock, teasing it along his hole for a few seconds, making the big hulk grunt deeply, before slowly pushing it inside his aching hole. He gasps feeling the raging power of the beast swelling inside him as he tries desperately to get the behemoth to stop worrying. He reaches up to yank on Wilson's thick brown mane and stares directly into his big green eyes. "Focus on ravaging me, you big hunky bear, and he won't come out. I can handle anything you do to me now, but you are right, the inner beast probably would hurt a lot of people if he decided to make an unexpected entrance." After making several deep growls, Wilson quickly wraps Valentin's legs around his mammoth torso and begins to deeply thrust inside him. Their eyes remain transfixed on each other as they move their way over to the bed. The Bulgarian turns his head around to look at it and smirks. "I don't really want to buy another bed again beast, it will cost me….." "SHUT UP Lenny, I will get you another one, okay?" Wilson quickly hops onto the bed as it crashes to the ground before getting down on his knees still holding his partner. He positions Val's lower body to sit on his heaving chest while he continues to pound his lover into oblivion. The energy is intensifying now that they are finally in a place where they can concentrate on pleasuring each other, even though Valentin wants to be able to feel Wilson's muscles. The lusty bottom looks up at him and wants to feel his partner's face, but he can't reach it in that position, so he motions for the Canadian to lean down to plant a kiss on his lips. "I would kiss you Lenny if I could, but I can't reach your mouth. *laughs deeply* However, I can compensate by pumping you full of so much cum that you won't be hungry for days. Does that sound like a good alternative, eh?" He decides to slow his rhythm down so he can keep pulling out to watch Val's gaping hole pulse and his own power tool throb wildly. The synchronicity between them is almost trancelike as this continues for what seems like eons. He has finally found another man that can keep up with his endurance and he doesn't want to waste it so he keeps promising that he will cum soon only to make his partner moan again when he plugs him for several more jabs. He finally feels the flood moving from inside his balls to his shaft after about thirty heart-pounding minutes of power fucking. Val own cock is a deep purple and it is making him lose his mind from the abuse his prostate has been enduring. Wilson yells out a few "rrraaahhhs" before shoving his thick rod as far in as he can possible go. The volume of his cum floods Valentin's insides and makes the equally impressive bottom spray himself with his own violent load. They are both absolutely spent from this session as both of the behemoths lie in place breathing heavily as they remain locked together. The bald-headed Canadian starts to pull his cock out, but Val stops him. "No, leave it in there beast. It will keep the other you from trying to come out. You remember the last time we had a round like this don't you?" Wilson's thick mane and veiny head is lying on his own heaving pecs as he starts laughing and grunting at the same time. "HA HA HA! You have a point there stud. *has trouble catching his breath* I have to stand back up though Lenny. I'm sorry. I wish I could sit here for a while longer, but I am having so much difficulty with my breathing that I need to get up." He quickly pulls out of his partner's hole and tries to lift himself off the ground on his own accord, but fails. Now both of the hulks are trying to help each other up to their feet, flexing their arms to balance their weight so they can get up at the same time. After about a minute of struggling, they finally manage to get up and rub each other down a few times. Their eyes lock on each other once again. "Pick me up big lug so we can finally kiss. I have wanted to lock my lips on yours since I have seen you tonight. I know we don't have much time if you are feeling "him" coming along." Wilson grins and his eyes widen as he wraps his arms around Val's thick and veiny waist and lifts him just above his pec shelf. They lean in to each other and match up with each other's mouths, which is more difficult than you would imagine. The Bulgarian has to part a few strands of hair in the Canadian's bushy beard before he can do so. The beastly man shoves his tongue down his partner's throat as they finally kiss each other. It is a passionate and rewarding kiss as they both moan deeply into each other; while holding each other's heads with one hand and their other hand on each other's pumped necks. This lasts for about another two minutes before Val finally motions for Wilson to let go so he can climb down off of the hairy behemoth. "I have missed you beast. I had to show you what the serum has done for me over the past few months and I knew that you would approve once you got a look at my results." Wilson is still sweating like a fiend despite the fact that the room has cooled even further from when he got there. Valentin has seen his partner do this more than once and knows what will happen if the Canadian doesn't get out of there soon. "It is FUCKING awesome what it is doing for you baby, I want to see you BLOW UP into something that barely resembles a human. Don't you want that, eh? I mean…..you might actually get there if you continue with these treatments. We really need you to get as MASSIVE as possible because we need you badly in the were community." He can now feel "him" at the pit of his stomach as he reaches down to clutch his wet, hairy, distended eight-pack. Val quickly rushes over to open the doors to the balcony so he can get his partner outside. The air is even colder now as they both make their way to the edge of the bannister on the seventh floor. Wilson is gripping the rail with his huge hands as he leans his head over towards the ground. Val has positioned himself to be about three feet away from him to keep his distance in case there is a problem. He can hear his friend growling under his breath, and in a weird way, it is exciting him. The Canadian hulk is looking over at him and shakes his head a few times. "I sometimes wonder if the real reason why you are so interested in me is because of the other me. *shakes his head and does a few more "errs"* SSHHIITT….. *stomps his big feet a few times* It shouldn't feel like I am about to have a full body orgasm, but it does….." Val's cock is bouncing up and down because it can sense the changes that are about to commence inside the Canadian behemoth's body. He is aware how dangerous Wilson will be once the transformation is complete, but he also hopes that his massive lover can rein in the beast better than in previous instances. He has been attempting to merge with the monster from within his skin for quite some time, and hopefully this time it will happen without his friends getting hurt in the process. Wilson's beard is gradually falling off his face now as his hands and feet start cracking and popping loudly. He is growling and groaning yanking on the balcony railing until it nearly comes off its hinges. Valentin is transfixed on what is happening to them as his partner's fingers and toes are being broken off his body as four dark, hulking, paws quickly push forward to replace them. He is in agony, but still manages to get a few words out. "RRRRAAAAHHHH FFFUUUCCCKKK! Ahhh, I don't even feel pain anymore Lenny. I don't want to look at them…..I know it has to be a FUCKING mess, eh? I felt all of them break off and yet I didn't….." He stops moving to arch his huge back as vast amounts of dark brown fur start to accumulate just beneath his skin. He almost laughs as his already immense muscles in his back begin growing even larger as they start to double up on each other. He is trying to brace himself feeling the werebear taking over his entire body. He is still staring at his lover, frothing at the mouth now as it struggles to stay in its human form. His teeth are breaking off revealing his growing incisors and fangs as they tear his face apart. His flesh is being decimated as all of his muscles are barely visible beneath his new covering. The crunching and stretching of his gigantic muscles is making the balcony unstable as his human form finally surrenders to the more ferocious beast emerging. His new paws have grown to twice their original size now as the skin that is remaining on his body completely rips completely off, exposing the newly formed brown carpet that is now covering his entire gigantic growing frame. The huge cock that was dangling between his legs has been completely covered over by a thick sheath that now resides beneath the hulking bear gut he is growing. His thickly muscled paws are growing claws that probably measure nearly two feet long. The shape of his skull is the final area that is changing as it cracks and pops several times to make room for his newly formed ears and the thick muzzle that is growing outward to accommodate the giant teeth that now reside within his mouth. He has never stopped looking at Valentin throughout the entire process which has made the mesmerized Bulgarian both terrified and horny. The balcony's bannister is breaking off under the weight of were Wilson's giant bear legs as it falls down to the sidewalk underneath them. There is barely anything that is even remotely human about the Canadian now, as he tries to stand up on two of his four monstrously huge hulking tree trunks that have just finished transforming. Val is quite dazed after seeing his partner change from being a giant hairy hulk into a larger, furrier, and much more dangerous version of his self. He can still see Wilson's beautiful green eyes from inside the beast's head, which does give the Bulgarian some pause because he doesn't remember that ever happening before. He moans feeling a giant load in his balls building up as the massive, 12-foot, 1,500 pound behemoth that is in front of him attempts to lunge for his body with its claws. He jumps out of the way though and lands back inside the apartment as the werebear loses its footing and goes over the edge of the balcony and falls onto the ground beneath them. Val spills his load all over the floor and loses consciousness as the sounds of cars being smashed to pieces and sirens going off in the distance are heard everywhere throughout the city. End of Part 5
Part 1 By Richard Jasper I was watching my trainer spot the kid on what turned out to be the kid's first successful attempt to bench more than 200 lbs. "That was 205, right?" he exclaimed. "Two plates, plus four 10s, plus the bar?" Frank chuckled. "You got it right," he replied. The kid had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. You could tell he was totally psyched. "Great job," I said, extending my hand. "You'll hit 225 in another week or two, especially if Frank here is spotting you." I stuck out my hand. "Derek Harcourt," I said. "It's Blake, right?" The kid's eyes widened slightly. I'd seen him around and I knew that Frank knew him but whenever Frank and I trained together he always ran away. "Oh, sure, Mr. Harcourt, I've seen you around many times," he replied, giving my hand a nice firm shake. "Frank's told me all about you! Nice to be 'formally' introduced! Blake Michael Smith." I frowned. "Hey," I said, trying not to bark. "None of that 'Mister' stuff, OK? I'm old enough as it is! Just call me Derek, OK?" He laughed. "OK, Derek, you got it!" I call him The Kid but Blake wasn't really, of course. He was, I later learned, 22 and recently graduated from nearby Ball State University, from which Frank, a few years older, had also graduated. But when you're over 50, anyone under 30 seems like a kid and Blake was also what I refer to as "pocket-sized" – no more than 5'6 and, I also learned (because I asked), 145 lbs. Light brown hair, brown eyes, nice tan, well-proportioned, beginnings of a six-pack, short blond hair on his arms, clean-shaven. At 52 I was more than twice his age. I was also four inches taller and weighed literally twice as much as he did, 290 lbs. of fur-covered beef. It was a good bet my 24-inch arms were bigger than his quads and it was clear MY quads, 34 inches each, were bigger than his maybe 29-inch waist. "I'll see you around, Blake," I said. "Nice to meet you!" Then I went back to doing what I had been doing when I saw Frank setting up to spot him: Curling 275 lbs. for reps.
My Bodyguard (Epilogue)
arpeejay posted a topic in 2nd Annual Storiversary ArchiveBy Arpeejay Part 3 can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14718-my-bodyguard-part-3/ Epilogue The rest, as they say, is history. Pop and Mom were not surprised when we greeted them holding hands when they returned from their wedding / honeymoon / golfing trip. They were all serious, of course, about the fact that we were very young and that commitments made at our age didn't usually last past college, if that long. Likewise, they said, we might want to play down the fact that technically speaking we were stepbrothers. "Not that anyone is likely to give the two of you shit about anything, much less that," said Mom, always the outspoken one. Pop just cleared his throat and nodded. The biggest change was that he and Mom bought a new house. Each of the existing houses had three bedrooms and two baths which was too few bedrooms and too few bathrooms from their perspective. We pointed out that we didn't actually NEED a bedroom for each of us but they put paid to that idea. "Look," Pop said, for once the spokesperson. "We don't care WHERE you sleep but it will be good for each of you to have your own space. Mom and I each want an office of our own so don't knock it." They found a four bedroom, three and a half bath house, with a full basement, and an office, which gave them a bedroom, Nick and I each a bedroom, a bedroom to use as Mom's office, and a first-floor office for Pop. Plus a three car garage and a pool. Nick and I were both kind of shell-shocked after the first tour. "Uh," I said. "You DO remember that Nick and I are both planning to go to college, right?" Pop snorted. "Quite aside from the fact that at the rate you're both going you'll have your pick of academic AND athletic scholarship, your old man's an accountant," he said, smugly. "We have been living well within our means." Whoosh! Nick and I spent that first summer lifting and lounging around and in the pool and fucking and sucking and lifting and swimming and… Well, exactly what you would expect us to be doing. "Just think of this as your honeymoon," Mom said. "Next summer you're getting jobs," Pop added. Gulp! Of course, what kind of job they thought Nick was going to manage remained to be seen at that point. When we started our junior year of high school that fall, he was tipping the scales at 400 lbs. of solid muscle, bigger than any professional bodybuilder and most powerlifters. By that point he had a 40-inch waist but his chest was significantly bigger around than he was tall, his quads measured 44 inches, and his arms were bigger than my 32-inch waist. He officially retired from the high school weight-lifting team after a private session with the coach in which he benched an even ton – 2000 pounds – for one perfect rep. After he recovered from his near faint, Coach looked at me, looked at Nick. "You realized this means that Nick is far and away the strongest man on the planet, right? Quite possibly in all of history?" We nodded. "And he's 16 years old," I pointed out. He blinked a few times. "I'm guessing you would just as soon this was not public knowledge," he surmised, correctly. I nodded at Nick. "Black helicopters," he said. But that was OK, I took over as captain of the weight-lifting team that year. I started the year at 5'11 and 250 lbs. Let that sink in. In one year I had gone from 5'6 and 120 lbs. of nothing to 5'11 and 250 lbs. of total muscle stud. I weighed as much as Nick had done when he picked up Ralphie Peters and held him against the wall. "I'm assuming a 750 lb. 1RM bench is satisfactory?" Coach just muttered and fanned himself. "Come again," Nick said. Coach spread his arms and looked towards heaven. "What did I do to be blessed with a couple of fucking muscle mutants?" We liked that idea! "Just call us the M&M's," we said. Relieved of any athletic competitions, Nick took up discussion and debate and before the semester was over the kid who had been reading below grade level a year previously was captain of the debate team. Meanwhile, I led the weight-lifting team to its second-consecutive all-state title and likewise broke all existing records for a high school weight-lifting team. And it never stopped. By the time we graduated, Nick had for all practical purposes transcended humanity. At 550 lbs. he was for all intents and purposes a national celebrity. Once he passed 450 lbs. (just before the end of his junior year) we decided to change strategies. Instead of trying to hide his size and strength (at that point his bench was closing in on 3000 lbs.) we decided to advertise it as much as possible. "World's strongest kid is also world's strongest man" went the usual story-line. We figured if we became extremely well-known it would be very hard for some black ops super soldier program to swoop him up. We had several visits from men and women in black suits, white shirts, black ties and very boring cars, then another set by big blowhards in uniforms with lots of ribbons on their chest. Pop refused to consent to any meetings without cameras and recorders present so they were perhaps a bit more reticent than they were otherwise. "Look," he said, finally. "You DO understand that every supplement company in the world, much less the country, is after Nick for research purposes, right? We're going to do the research, alright, but it's going to be through Harvard or MIT or University of Chicago or someplace like that; and together, Nick and whichever university, they're going to license the results. If you want to employ it, get in line." By that time, of course, it was becoming apparent that while I was never going to catch up with Nick I was likewise off the charts in terms of physical development. On my 17th birthday I hit my max height, 6 ft., weighed 310 lbs., and was benching more than 1000 lbs. for reps. (I also hit max dick: 10 x 8 ½ inches, still a couple of inches shorter than Nick's 12-inch cannon but an inch bigger in circumference. He wasn't complaining!) As for me, I graduated Worthington weighing a dead even 400 lbs., with the same measurements Nick had had at that weight, only I was two inches shorter so I actually looked a bit thicker than he had done. I was kind of irked really. Not because I hadn't caught up with him, despite having more than tripled my size in three years. No, it was because if I had gained an extra 25 lbs. and he had done the same the two of us would have weighed exactly 1000 lbs. And I thought that would have been cool! I explained this to Pup, who just rolled his eyes. "You DO understand that you're exactly twice the size of your old man, right?" Pup was in pretty good shape before he met Mom but at 5'9 and a totally ripped 200 lbs. he looked freaking awesome. "Get a grip," Mom added, who made no bones about the fact that she was delighted to have a gigantic food bill to feed her sexy husband and two gigantic sons! She referred to us as her "own private herd of beef!" Oh, and there was this. At graduation, Nick was valedictorian, I was salutatorian. "He's the jock," he joked beforehand. "I'm the brain!" Mom rolled her eyes. "You're both going to Stanford," she pointed out. "Get over it." We were on stage together. He listened to my speech. I listened to his. When he was done, he motioned me forward and together we said. "Thank you Worthington, for bringing us together!" And then we kissed. The stadium erupted. Nick leaned in and whispered in my ear: "Am I still your bodyguard?" Over the din I was unlikely to be heard so I mouthed my response: "Until the end of time, Big Man, until the end of time!" THE END
A Fine Bromance
arpeejay posted a topic in StoriesQuick reminder: If you've read one of my stories, you've read ALL of my stories. Proceed with this one (it's new) at your own risk. -- RPJ A Fine Bromance Part 1 By Richard Jasper My new personal trainer stuck out his hand. "Hi," he said. "I'm Erik Heitkamp. Jake has told me a lot about you!" I shook his hand. "Roger Jessup," I replied. "Nice to 'meet' you." +++ I had joined this corporate suburban gym six months previously when I realized, at age 49, it was "now or never." It had been five years since my husband, Stephen, had gone down in a commuter plane crash. Ten years together, gone in a flash. They told me it would have been instantaneous but I had nightmares on a regular basis the first year. Between Stephen's insurance and the airline settlement I was fixed for life. And would have traded all of it for 10 more minutes with him. The thing was, Stephen had been my lifting buddy as well as my husband. Not so unusual, of course, except that we were very disparate sizes. At 6'1, Stephen was a couple of inches taller than I was but never weighed more than 140 lbs. As for me, I came equipped with naturally broad shoulders and a predisposition towards putting on the pounds in (mostly) all the right places. I was always about twice as strong as he was but he was never less than enthusiastic. His absence made itself known to me on a daily basis in a thousand different ways. Even so, I was surprised when I found I couldn't make myself go to the gym. Well, I could go and I did, but when I did I was just going through the motions, and after a couple of weeks I would stop – for six months or a year. Then I would start up again. "It's like this," I told myself, finally. "I need to have someone there. If I have to pay to have a lifting buddy, so be it." I told the director of personal trainer right up front: "Nothing against girl trainers, but I want a guy because I want someone who can inspire me," I said. "Likewise, I'm gay and I am not shy about talking about my life. Whatever trainer I wind up with needs to be able to deal with that." The PT director just grinned. "I've got just the guy!" The guy turned out to be Jake Adams. Blond, blue-eyed, 6'1, 185 lbs., all muscle. Someone, it turned out, who appreciated my encyclopedic knowledge of male bodybuilding and with whom I could chat between sets over the pros and cons of mass versus aesthetics, off-season versus stage ready, and so forth. And, even though he was built like a CrossFit junkie (he wasn't – he just had a keen interest in gymnastics and athleticism in general) he was perfectly down with what I wanted. "I want to get back to my previous level of conditioning," I said. "And then go from there." In six months, we made that happen, or close enough. I was fairly knowledgeable, thanks to previous experience with a personal trainer years previously. Jake kept me on the straight and narrow and in six months I was almost back to where I had been before pilot error took Stephen away from me. Not that it was all that great. At 5'10 and 215 lbs., I had a 46 inch chest, 36 inch waist, 16 inch arms, 26 inch quads, and 18 inch calves (that I never trained – they just grew that way.) But that was two inches MORE on my chest, two inches LESS on my waist, and inch MORE on more arms than the day I walked in the door. (A couple of years before Stephen passed away, when I was at my peak, the chest was 48, the waist was 34, and the arms were 17. I still had a ways to go, obviously!) I still had a lousy bench but I was back to managing five reps at 225, could handle three plates on the t-bar row, and Jake's eyes about popped when he figured out I could squat 365 for reps and that my one rep max was 455. "Damn, boy," he said. "That's waaaay out of my league." Me oh my, I thought. Nothing like impressing the straight boy to make an old queen's heart go pitter-pat. Naturally, after six months it was time for him to move on. He said it was because he was just looking for a change. Rumor had it his break-up with Mandy, another personal trainer, was the salient factor. +++ Hence Erik, whose eyes widened slightly when he learned just how firm a grip I had. 24 years old, half my age, just my height, reddish brown hair with a matching well-trimmed beard, big green eyes, long dark lashes, pouty red lips. And, like Jake, about 185 lbs., but whereas Jake was long and lean Erik clearly took after me. Naturally broad shoulders and narrow hips with solid arms and pecs. Unlike me, he had a tiny, flat stomach (the six-pack wasn't quite there yet) and, much to his chagrin, skimpy calves. "Jake tells me you're a walking encyclopedia of bodybuilding!" he said enthusiastically. I had to laugh. "You know," I said. "I've been following bodybuilding since I was 12 years old. It's like the straight kid who memorizes all the MLB or NFL stats. With me, it's bodybuilders. Who won, how tall they are, how much they weighed in the offseason, how much they weighed on stage, the whole schmear." He high-fived me. "Hot damn!" he said. "Right up my alley! I l-o-v-e bodybuilding!" Naturally, of course, he was straight as an arrow. And in fact, I soon learned, he had joined Fitness World a month or two previously just after his own traumatic break-up. (I had seen him around, of course, and said "hi" a time or two but this was our first introduction) "Good deal," I said, then added: "As Jake will have told you, I'm gay as a goose. But I'm also a GUY which means I look! In my case, I look at guys. And me being me, I talk about the guys I'm looking at! So I will look at the guys and you will look at the girls and we can compare notes. Deal?" He laughed. "Deal!" +++ "So what are your goals?" he asked. "Short term: Stronger, harder, bigger," I said. "Long term: Much bigger!" Erik laughed. "How about something specific?" That was easy: "To be in the same shape I was before I went on hiatus," I replied. "So about the same weight as I am now with a couple of inches more on my chest, a couple of inches off my waist, and another inch on my arms." He looked me up and down. "Completely doable," he said. "You clearly have a lot of muscle memory to work with. We just need to put in the work." I'm afraid I actually blushed. Believe me, getting a compliment from a cute guy half my age – even a straight one – was much more than I was used to at that point! "And one other thing," I said. "I would really, really, really like to be able to bench 315 by my 50th birthday three months from now." He arched an eyebrow. Was he skeptical? "I've always had a lousy bench," I explained. "And it's been a lifetime goal. If you can get me there, I can promise a nice bonus!" Erik chuckled. "You're currently benching what? 225 for five reps?" I nodded. "Previously my best ever single rep was 275," I pointed out. He gave me two thumbs up. "Piece o' cake!" And that's how it went. Each week for the next three months I had two 50-minute training sessions with Erik, I spent an hour or so each week lifting on my own, and then usually a couple of 25-minute cardio sessions followed by 15-20 minutes of arms. Every session, we talked. Man did we talk! Wasn't like I wasn't working. I worked my ass off. But between every set I was talking or he was talking… About Stephen and what he was like and what it was like to lose him. About Tiffany, his ex-fiancee, the woman he had lived with for three years and with whom he thought he was going to spend the rest of his life, right up to the minute she admitted she'd been fucking her boss for six months. We talked about the history of bodybuilding and the direction of the sport, including the addition of the 212 class, Men's Physique, and Classic Physique. "Mass monsters," I said. "Aesthetics," he replied. "Roidguts," I countered. "Vacuum poses," he offered. He was upfront about the fact that he aspired to compete but wasn't sure whether he would ever have the size to do more than Men's Physique. "Classic physique, if I'm lucky." I assured him that he certainly had the proportions to make Classic Physique -- or even open class bodybuilding -- happen, especially if he was willing to employ PEDs. And he was (and had but the imbroglio with Tiffany shot that first experience to hell.) "You know, when you really get right down to it," I told him. "I have ZERO interest in ever competing. I just want to be a huge freaking muscle bear!" He laughed, then high-fived me. "We'll make that happen," he said. "You'll be the studliest gay 50-something on the planet!" ZING! Along the way, I gained 10 lbs., all in the right places. Amazingly in the right places, in fact. Somehow I managed to put four inches on my chest and two inches on my arms, while taking four inches off my waist. With a 50-inch chest, 18-inch arms, and a 32-inch waist, I was better built than I had ever been in my life! Erik, meanwhile, dropped 10 lbs. without losing any muscle mass. It melted right of his mid-section. His waist was down to 29 inches and his abs were like river rocks. "You goddamned bastard!" I growled at him every time he lifted his tee-shirt to check his abs. He just grinned and did it again! And then, the day after my 50th birthday, I benched 315 for one solid rep. We borrowed Sam, one of the sales reps and an aspiring physique competitor, to shoot it with my phone so I could post it to Instagram. "Fuck yeah!" Sam said when I'd done it. Afterwards, Erik looked me up and down. "You're twice my age," he said. "But you're stronger than I am. Most I've done so far was 300." I shook my head. "You're looking at it the wrong way, Mr. 29-inch Waist," I said. "I just benched 15 lbs. more than you but I outweigh you by what, 50 lbs.?" He smirked. "Actually, I was 171 this morning," he admitted. I rolled my eyes. "Youth," I sighed. "Muscle maturity," he countered. And then he surprised me. "Do you want to train together?" he asked. "I don't have clients after you on Tuesdays and Thursdays so we could workout then. Or we could do early mornings before I open at Vitamin Valley [the supplement shop two doors down from Fitness World] on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays." It took me exactly 10 seconds to think it over: "Or we could do BOTH," I replied. "And it would be so freaking cool! I've always wanted a lifting buddy! Of course, Stephen and I always worked out together but it just wasn't the same since he was such a wee thing!" Erik laughed. "Well, compared to you, I'm a wee thing, too!" he pointed out. I snorted. "Pound for pound you're one of the strongest guys I know and by the end of the year you're going to be my size if I have anything to do with it!" His eyes got that gleam that comes on when you're imagining a long-anticipated future. And I didn't look but he later told me that telling him that caused him to chub up! "So it's a deal?" he asked. I bumped his fist. "Deal!"
Big All Over
arpeejay posted a topic in StoriesFair warning: If you've read one of my stories, you've read ALL of them, including this new one. -- RPJ Part 1 By Richard Jasper I wasn't always Big All Over, you know! In fact, right through high school I was a bit on the scrawny side. By the time I graduated from high school I had reached my full height, 6 feet, but I weighed only 160 lbs. When I went off the college that fall, I decided it was time to do something about it and began the long, slow road to the Hugeness you see before you now. But in one respect I was always BIG and, yes, I'm talking about down below. I remember shortly after my 10th birthday my gym class had gone on a trip to the city pool and the coach was letting us change in the restroom stalls, knowing that some of us were more than a little bit modest about it all. Then I was getting in my suit when I heard this whispering and shushing and shuffling around. And then I noticed fingers on top of the stall and two of my classmates' heads were staring down at my junk. "Whoa," they both said. "Look at that!" It took me a minute to realize they were talking about my dick. "It's bigger than my dad's!" one of them exclaimed. "It's way, WAY bigger than MY dad's!" said the other. When I exited the stall, there was a group of boys standing there, staring at me, their faces slack with awe. I suppose if I had been a different boy that would have been a tremendous confidence booster. As it was, I just felt enormously self-conscious. Among other things, my dad had hightailed it when I was 2 years old and it had always been just me and mom and her closest living male relative was an alcoholic cousin who lived 500 miles away. I had no idea what a boy's dick was supposed to look like, much less a man's! After school and before Mom got home I sneaked a tape measure out of her sewing box and got to work. It was eight inches long and six inches around. And I was 10 years old. Keep in mind those measurements were soft. I may have started having nighttime stiffies by that point but if so I really paid no heed. Aside from peeing, I had never touched my dick and it had never occurred to me there might be a reason to do so. I looked up "average dick size" on the internet and found that mine was really quite large. "I'm a freak," I said to myself. "That's all there is to it. That's why they stared." Like I said, if I had been a different boy, things might have been different. Instead I doubled down on the self-consciousness, making sure I was never seen without my pants on, wearing extra baggy pants and extra tight underwear to keep my noticeable bulge under control. And when I DID figure out why touching it was fun, and saw how much bigger it got, I was that much more mortified. I graduated from high school a virgin. A virgin with a 14-inch dick. +++ "I can't believe you're talking to me." "Why not?" he asked me. "Oh, c'mon," I said. "You're gorgeous and you're built like a brick shit house." It was spring break of my freshman year at Worthington University. My three roommates had persuaded me that we needed to go to Florida and, since Mom was willing to help foot the bill, I took them up on it. Donte, of course, was the main motivation for ME. Of the four of us – Blake, Caleb, Donte, and me – Donte and I, at 6 feet even, were the two tallest. But even though I had managed to pack on 20 lbs. of solid muscle during my freshman year, Donte made me look like a piece of spaghetti. Flawless rich dark caramel skin, startling green eyes, a strong jaw, cleft chin, dimples, and 235 lbs. of solid muscle, body fat was less than 10 percent. He outweighed me by more than 50 lbs. He and I were lounging on the balcony of hotel room, enjoying watching the stroller on the beach and sound of the waves crashing on shore while Blake and Caleb had gone looking for chicks. I had let all of them know at the beginning of the year that I was gay. I was willing to move if they had a problem with it but they were cool. Caleb, in fact, just rolled his eyes and said, "Dude, my dad came out when I was six years old. Chances are I'm more gay-acculturated than you are!" So it wasn't exactly a surprise to Donte when, just now, I had more or less confessed I was in lust with him. Who wasn't? The surprise was when he reached his big hand over and rested it on my crotch. "I may have the muscle," he said. "You have the meat." I blushed furiously but for once I didn't try to run away. "I've always felt like I was a freak," I confessed. He took his hand off my crotch, lifted his arm, and FLEXED! 21 inches of mountainous muscle rose up like a volcano of power. "Does this look freaky to you?" I shook my head. "It's quite possibly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," I replied. He dropped his arm and put his hand back on my rapidly engorging cock. "I want to see," he said. I moved his hand away, then stood up. Slowly I loosened the draw string to my board shorts and began inching them down my developing quads. SPROING It was more than halfway hard when I dropped my shorts and it was all the way hard by the time it popped. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Donte said. "Would you look at that." I started shaking. "Please tell me I'm not a freak," I murmured. Donte stood up and wrapped his big arms around me, squeezing me against his magnificent torso. My dick slapped against his rock-hard eight pack, the tip reaching the crevasse between the steely globes of his incredible pecs. "That's not freakdom," he whispered in my ear. "That's perfection." And then he kissed me. And then he kissed my dick. There wasn't any way he could take my monster, although he gave it a good licking. And then he turned me over and plowed my backside with his nine-incher. I was in heaven. A virgin no more. +++ "I can't believe you're talking to me." Five years had passed since Donte had taught me everything there was to know about being a bottom and, then, slowly but surely, he taught me everything there was to know about being a top. Turns out where there's a will there's a way and eventually he took all 14 inches, smooth as you please! But now I was in a Podunk town somewhere between the Mississippi and the Rockies, south of the Dakotas and north of Texas. The first of many, many work trips for my consulting job. It could have been Scottsbluff or Greeley, Abilene or Muskogee. I was chatting up the barista at the local coffee shop, bored out of my mind and more than a little horny, with an afternoon to kill before meeting with a client. "I don't know why not," I replied. "You're a handsome lad." And he was, too. No more than about 5'8 or 5'9 and probably no more than 140 lbs. soaking wet but he had shaggy blond hair, big blue eyes, long dark lashes, pouty red lips, a sexy little blond soul patch, and cheekbones you could cut glass on. What was he still doing in this little going-nowhere-fast burg? "But you're fucking huge!" he exclaimed, then covered his mouth. Because it was too loud? Because it was the F-word? Because that's not the way you talk to your customers? I never found out. But he was right. At 24, I was fucking huge. Learning how to bottom and how to top weren't the only thing Donte had taught me. He also taught me how to lift, how to eat, how to sleep, how to "supplement." His big dick wasn't the only thing he jabbed in my ass. Five years later I was 280 lbs. of solid muscle and physical development that few men were ever likely to achieve: 58 inch chest 32 inch waist 24 inch arms 32 inch quads 22 inch calves I was a fucking beast. And that was WITH my pants on, much less without them on. "And you're fucking gorgeous," I pointed out. Ditto, he was a little furball, copious blond brown curls poking out of the top of his white v-neck shirt. God may have blessed me with an enormous cock and the ability to put on prodigious amounts of muscle but She neglected at least two of the manly attributes. One, my beard / mustache was so wispy I never bothered after the first attempt during my first year at Worthington. Two, from the neck down I was pretty much hairless as a Chihuhua. My crotch and pits were bushy enough but nothing on my chest, abs, or arms, much less my back. Nothing but a wispy treasure trail connecting my navel to my pubes and moderately hairy legs. Yeah, he might be small but he was hairy, by God, and after muscle that's what got my motor running. "Plus I'm gay as a goose and horny as fuck." His eyes widened. "I get off at 2," he said. I grinned. "Excellent, I don't need to be anywhere until 6 p.m.," I said. I wrote down my cell number and my room number at the best hotel (out of 3-4 total) in town. "If you feel like it, drop by," I said. "I'll show you what a real man looks like." Much as he was enamored of my muscles, the Beast was the real show stopper. "Jesus God," he moaned. "I've never seen anything like it in a porno, much less real life." I put my big paw on the back of his blond head and guided his hot mouth to its target. "Lick it, boy," I told him. Frankly, I was surprised. He managed, with some time and effort, to deep throat the whole thing. "Great hopping horny toads," I said, at one point. "How are you managing it?!" He pulled himself off – SCHLOOP – which was an exquisite sensation in its own right. "Voice major," he said. "Any voice major worth his salt knows how to unhinge his jaw!" And then he dived back on. All I can say is: Thank God for Voice Majors!
muscle growth The Hormone Treatment Part 4 (Darkori Brothers)
ravenweremuscle posted a topic in StoriesYou can find the first three parts here: Part 4: After several minutes, Brice gets up from the table and walks into the nearby hallway. He is still a bit woozy from the ordeal he just experienced, but for the first time in years, he feels as if he is going to be alright on the inside. He is still nude and is unconsciously rubbing the thick grayish skin on his chest and legs feeling the new textures of his fresh hardened skin. It makes his cock jump a few times as it dribbles a few drops of precum onto the floor beneath him. He is looking around at his surroundings and is noticing things he hasn't seen for the first time since he has been there. There are several rooms on both sides of the corridor he is standing in. Each one of them has a red shield with square boxes around them, flames are superimposed on top of the shields, and they are in numerical order. The east hall is where he was before in the cages and the west hall, which looks as if it is nearly a mile away down the aisle, is where a door is open. It appears to be where the doctor's exam rooms and offices are located. Brice quickly realizes that he is in an unmarked area of the property and which makes him shake his head a few times. This is obviously a much bigger operation than he previously anticipated. Dr. Cain Darkori opens a door approximately ten feet away from him and walks through it. He is glistening with sweat and appears to be a bit winded. He spots Brice and walks down the hall to see him. He smiles and puts his thick and powerful hands on the gray-skinned man's shoulders and squeezes them. Brice lightly winces but feels a sense of warmth run through him. "Are you feeling a bit better now Brice? I managed to get Owen down for a long nap I think. You won't have to worry about Damien for a while either. He went and got his frustrations out on another one of our patients." Brice looks into the huge hulking red doctor's eyes and is quite smitten with him. Cain immediately notices this and wraps his huge hairy veiny arms around the gray man's waist to lift him up into his embrace. Brice's swollen gray cock is finding its way inside the doctor's lab coat and it is resting on his furry black chest, rubbing its sticky goo on him. Cain smiles, showing off his perfectly formed white teeth and fangs. They are noticeably longer now than he remembers and it feels like he is heating up as his breathing starts to get a bit heavier. It is a side that Brice has not really seen of him before other than what he saw happening in the exam room. He is moving his hands up and down Brice's back to comfort him. "Mmm, I have to say that you do turn me on a bit Brice. You are more my type now that you have transitioned to this look. Our bigger halves are getting a bit more acquainted judging by how we are responding to each other." He also realizes that maybe it is a bit too soon to be fraternizing with someone that just recently returned back to their human form. He carries Brice down the hall and into an extremely large shower area where the two stop for a moment or two. The huge hairy red-skinned doctor turns on the cold water in front of one of the showerheads in hopes of cooling them both off. The cascading of the water as it hits Cain does little to keep Brice's eyes from wandering up and down the huge man's thick frame as it completely soaks his lab coat and pants. The immense muscles in his hairy chest are now entirely visible underneath the fabric. He continues to breathe heavily as his gray partner leans in to smell the incredible stench being emitted from the horny doctor's pulsing neck and scruffy face. "Doctor, I can't seem to control myself despite your efforts to cool me off. I am being compelled to pleasure you from whatever is residing inside my body." Brice's cock and balls are now swelling as they rub against the doctor's thick abs as his growing rod reaches the underside of his meaty pecs. It is squirting precum, coating the area between both of the doctor's huge chest mountains. His gray partner starts licking his swollen neck which is bringing him to the point of no return. He can feel his own power tool expanding to the point that it is ready to explode out of his pants. "UHHH BRICE…..*feels numerous waves of adrenaline flowing through him*. MMMMM FUCK…..*a few popping sounds come from his neck*. I haven't been this hot for someone in….." He is huffing now feeling his pants creaking now that they are literally painted to his body. The giant bulge that has been torturing his zipper for several minutes finally bursts its way out as the doctor's massive, veiny cock continues to grow. He is about to let himself go as he feels Brice groaning, feeling his partner's entire body stretching, swelling, growing against him and in his hands. His own hands do the same as his nails elongate and become sharper. It appears that they are both doing so in sync with each other. The cold water that was supposed to diffuse the situation has failed to prevent the transformation process from commencing. Cain can feel the seams on his pants being pulled apart by the colossal mass that is emerging from them both from behind and along both sides of his lower half. He shoves his thick demonic fingers in between the two growing bloated gray globes to prepare them for what they will have to endure shortly. Brice's swelling tits are pressing up against his lover as he moans deeply feeling his hole being massaged. He is humping Cain's swelling fingers as they slowly stretch his anus. The doctor's eyes have turned to a shade of black now and his upper body and arms are entirely glued to his lab coat. He can feel his partner's bloated foot-long rod and grapefruit-sized balls being compressed along his own swelling pec shelf as he roars feeling his massive back muscles tear through the puny lab coat fabric. A thick covering of black fur has formed along the ridges of his cavernous delts and traps. Brice's own eyes have turned a milky gray and his tongue has changed shape. He is finding his way to Cain's mouth as he slides it inside making a lustful journey down to his partner's throat. They continue to expand up against each other as Brice reaches his thick 22" pythons around to sluff the remaining fabric off of his partner's swollen back. The horny red-skinned muscle demon slides his thick sausage fingers out of his gray-skinned partner's wet hole to let his bloated precum spurting 13x8 rod take over as it quickly arches towards Brice's gaping cavern. They seem destined for each other as they both meet with each other head on. The hungry bottom moans deeply feeling the massive tool pushing itself all the way inside. The two demons have found their way over to the shower wall where a few of the tiles have broken due to the force they caused by slamming up against them. After a couple of minutes of intense kissing and tonsil hockey with each other's thick tongues, Cain starts pounding Brice relentlessly growling and roaring in delight. It is definitely getting the attention of others that are in the same part of the complex. Damien can sense the excitement coming from both of them as he stands in the doorway that leads into the shower area. He is surprisingly calm, probably due to the fact that he himself just had a session with a fuck buddy and it has drained him and his other half, at least for the time being. He is quite amazed though at how primal Cain is getting with Brice. The gray-skinned demon bottom has somehow sprouted a tail while he is being ravaged. It is finding its way underneath his partner's huge heaving balls and is caressing both of them slowly sending shockwaves through Cain's entire body. The massive muscle demon can feel them ballooning even bigger because of the milking as Brice's thick hose-sized tail travels up along his horny top's giant ass smacking both cheeks, prompting an even louder roar each time he does it. It is obvious that Cain has never been played with in this way because he is digging his claws into Brice's bulging back and lats, but he is not trying to hurt him. The intense pressure in his huge grapefruit-sized balls is driving him insane as his partner's gray tail slowly slithers its way up to his ass lips to part them and before sliding inside to start raping his anal walls. Cain nearly loses all of his bearings on his demonic self, barely holding on to his humanity as he feels himself being pleasured by Brice's thick appendage. It is the most satisfying feeling he has ever experienced from another being. He is tilting his head back with his mouth open exposing his fangs as he to be fucked slowly and methodically. This is making him want to cum more than ever as he tries to pump Brice at the same rate. Damien is getting noticeably turned on by this, but he is trying to keep his composure despite what he is seeing in front of him. He feels compelled to join them, but knows that Cain would probably not like that since he obviously is developing a strong bond with Brice. Earlier while the gray beast was resting, the larger brother lectured him about interrupting the regression process in which he was interfering with. It led to what Brice ended up looking like now, which at first was considered a negative. Now though, it appears that Cain has completely changed his mind about it and is becoming totally infatuated with him. Feeling his own body warming up again, Damien decides it is time for him to go visit Owen down the hall before he transforms into his bigger self once again. As a response to being pleasured by Brice, Cain's impressive red-skinned garden-hosed sized tail has emerged from his back and is trying to reach his lover's milky gray rocket and ballsac to return the favor. Realizing it isn't going to be long enough, he musters enough strength to stretch his tail another few feet as loud leathery sounds can be heard coming from within the muscular demon's lower half. It reaches its destination and wraps itself around Brice's swollen balls and squeezes them tightly to make him spray a few ropes of sticky precum all over Cain's massive upper body. Both of the horny beasts have been edging each other for quite some time and are in need of release. As a way of determining who will do so first, they begin to tussle with each other to see which demon is going to win the challenge. Deep down, Brice knows he isn't going to win against the larger demon daddy, but still wants to show that he also has a great deal of power so he attempts to get free from his grasp. Still stuffed inside his partner; however, Cain slams him down to the shower floor causing several tiles to break beneath them as he tries to show how dominant he is. They both roar with delight as the slightly smaller gray-skinned hulk submits to him after a couple of minutes of writhing and grinding against each other's monstrous chests and gigantic legs. Feeling the white flood leaving his huge balls, Cain lifts his partner's lower half up into the air to push his beastly rod up against Brice's swollen prostate. He arches his massive demonic back as he unloads inside Brice's starving insides. The rush of the powerful river involuntarily makes the bottom flex his entire frame as he feels every muscle fiber in his body start to expand once again. He grows rapidly as Cain looks on in amazement. He can still feel Brice's massive expanding tail throbbing inside his asshole as it stretches him even further. At the same time, this is causing the red-skinned demonic beast to make more cum inside his ballsac as he feels more flow out of his raging shaft and into the excited gray behemoth. After cumming inside the gray giant once again, he manages to pull out of the demonic hulk's swollen cunt hole and let's go of Brice's 16" power tool, which was still being squeezed by his huge tail. He is breathing heavily as he lies down on the shower floor. The showerhead they are lying under is still on and it is starting to flood the entire area they are in. Brice has now grown to over 400 pounds and his skin has been stretched to its limits as marks are appearing all over his massive body. He is crawling over to his exhausted top and is towering over him. His cock has started to mate with Cain's again as they rub together and mix their fluids. They stare into each other's eyes as the huge red-skinned demon's tail explores the massive muscle beast's entire frame once again feeling how much bigger he is compared to where he was just a few minutes prior. It is obvious what the man creature wants from Cain as he reaches down to place the red hulk's bloated veiny tail on top of his gargantuan leaky cock. Once again, the red demon wraps his appendage around his partner's ballsac and squeezes them tightly. A few thick jets of precum go flying into the air and coat the doctor's vascular legs and torso before the slit is plugged by the end of Brice's tail. The sensation of feeling something entering his cock makes the beast moan deeply. Cain grins as he pushes his tail further down inside the cock making Brice's shaft swell even larger to contain the invader within. The gray monster reaches down and digs his claws into his partner's enormous cannons as he anticipates the wild ride he is about to experience. The huge doctor continues raping his dick until he can see that Brice is about to lose control, judging by the wild look on his face. He can feel his partner's balls contracting as he slowly slides his tail upward and out. When he finally does manage to get the entire appendage free, he is drowned by the largest white volcano he has ever felt in his entire life. The intensity of the orgasm is so incredible that the gray demon loses consciousness and falls over to the side. With each ribbon of cum being released from his bloated body, Brice slowly reverts back to where this whole sequence started in the first place. He has completely covered his red-skinned partner with his seed almost to the point that Cain's own skin color is nearly invisible. The thick demonic hulk is laughing in his extremely deep demonic tone as he reaches up to his face with his claws to wipe the flood out of his black eyes. He is beginning to calm down now as he starts to shrink back down to his human form. He is tired but he is still manages to sit up long enough to move over to tend to his gray partner. He can sense that Brice is not breathing well and starts to do a few chest compressions on him. He then gets a few breaths in to his lungs before his weakened partner starts coughing and spits a bit of cum into his face. They are both back to their normal sizes once again. Cain smacks his face a few times to get him to open his eyes so he can look at him. It works as they stare at each other for a few seconds before the doctor says something to him. "Well, that was quite an experience, wasn't it Brice?" They both laugh a couple of times which is followed by Brice coughing to his side as he tries to get a few words out. Cain covers his mouth though to tell him not to speak. "You don't have to say anything hunky boy. You are far too weak to do anything so we can talk more when you are rested up, okay?" He leans down to kiss him and plunges his tongue down Brice's throat and embraces him with his huge thick arms. His gray-skinned partner does the same as they lie there together in the milky-colored water. During the last few minutes of their exchange, they were both unaware that they were being watched by Damien and Owen, who were standing in the doorway, completely nude, and smiling while leaning against each other. They both walk into the flooded area to start cleaning up the mess that the two lovers just caused. Owen is told to shut the showerhead off and to clear out the drains of the milky cum that has accumulated so they can get the room fixed for later patients. Damien gets his brother up off the ground and takes him in to one of the exam rooms to lay him down on the table. He immediately dozes off once his brother walks back down the hall to do the same with Brice. Once he gets the gray man into another room, he wanders back into the shower area and starts helping Owen clean up the rest of the damaged facility. He stops the spectacled man long enough to say something funny to him. "Why can't you do that with me Owen? I'm sure we can generate the same kind of intensity those two have created, don't you think?" After a few eye rolls from his assistant, they go back to what they are doing.
Summer Vacation (Parts 1-5) Now With a CONCLUSION
arpeejay posted a topic in StoriesThis story was posted on the old MG between 2007 (when the original archive was created) and 2014 (when the old site went under.) I thought sure I had posted it here but apparently not! (If someone can find it, please let me know!) As is often the case with my old stories, I never finished this one -- but I'm planning to wrap it up in the next week or so! This time I will try posting it all in one thread beginning with Parts 1-5. -- RPJ By Richard Jasper Part 1 June 1 I can't believe I persuaded Mom and Dad to let me spend the summer here at the lake house! It's my favorite place on Earth but Dad and Pops get along like oil and water so we never stay more than a week, which well and truly sucks. And, no, I've never figured out what that's all about, although I'm sure some of it is that Dad secretly feels he doesn't measure up. Not that Pops has or ever would make an issue of it or even think it. Still, Dad is a healthy, handsome, athletic, 6'2, 200 lb. middle aged man and Pops is, well, let's be clear about it – Pops is a giant! Yes, he's 70 but he's 6'6" tall and I'm sure he weighs more than 300 lbs., maybe a lot more than 300 lbs., and he's solid as a rock. He's also the sweetest, nicest, most unintimidating man I've ever met, which I largely attribute to Gram. She's also 70 but I'm guessing a sexier septuagenarian has never lived and it's clear she keeps Pops on an even keel. The house is so cool, a large living area, big kitchen, a library, four bedrooms, and a full basement with a full gym, sauna, steam-room etc. Maybe I'll put on some muscle this summer! God knows I'm tired of feeling like a shrimp. At 5'11 and 160 lbs. I guess I'm decent enough for a just-turned-18 newly-minted high school graduate but compared to Dad, much less Pops, I've always felt like I was an insignificant bug! Later… Made it to the house in record time, even with a stop at McKinnon's to pick up some vittles and sundries. The kitchen is fully stocked, of course, but with Pops and Gram in Japan this summer they made a point of telling me it would all be packaged or frozen. So I picked up a steak, a baking potato, and a pre-made salad and… OMG! Old Man McKinnon's new store manager is such a total hunk! Steve, as I found out was his name by reading his name tag, is about the same height as Dad, around 6'2, but he's easily 250 lbs. and all of it is solid muscle. Probably 5-6 years older than I am, blond, blue eyed, tanned, smooth, totally ripped. Whoosh! I can see I'll need to be making regular visits even if the kitchen IS fully stocked! Speaking of the kitchen, Pops left a big jar of his own homemade vegemite right in the middle of the kitchen counter with a note on it: Here's hoping you'll have a great summer, Roger! Spend some time in the gym and, remember, Vegemite tastes good on anything – or nothing at all! Love ya, Pops I had to laugh. Vegemite was one of those things that Dad and Pops always fought over, Pops insisting it was good for what ails you, Dad maintaining it was mined from the bottom of a toxic waste dump. He refused to let me have even a single bite of it growing up, which, naturally, just increased my fascination but somehow I never managed, despite my sneaky kid ways, to get into it and Pops, despite all my pleading, insisted in adhering to Dad's wishes. As for Mom and Gram, they always said, "Vegemite is for boys," which I took for granted although looking back on it that strikes me as an odd thing for two hyper-feminists to say! Needless to say, I got out the whole wheat bread, opened the jar, and slathered some on. Jesus! It was like ambrosia! Like peanut-butter and jelly combined with the best steak you ever had and a bowl of chicken noodle soup! How could that be possible – and what was Dad thinking? I ate three and now I'm about to pass out! More tomorrow! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ June 4 Hard to believe I could be so busy all by myself! But here it is three days later and I haven't touched the keyboard 'til now! Man, I'm totally loving it here. My routine thus far: I get up. I eat breakfast (a LOT of breakfast – Vegemite on scrambled eggs, mmm!) I go downstairs and lift. I have a mid-morning snack (Vegemite on English muffin, mmmm!) I take a nap. I get up. I eat lunch (Vegemite on pancakes, delish!) I lift. I eat. I go swimming. I eat. I lift again. I eat supper (Vegemite casserole!) I crash. Today I went to McKinnon's to pick up some more supplies (and to check out Steve again!) "Hey, Steve," I said, trying not to drool. He looked me up and down, sort of puzzled like. "Hey, uh… Roger, isn't it?" I nodded and smiled. "I almost didn't recognize you," he said. "You must have been more dressed up the first time I saw you, I thought you were smaller." I shook my head. "Same old me!" Well, at least he noticed! Back at the house I pulled out the bathroom scale. I mean, after all, I've been eating like there was no tomorrow. And Steve was mistaken. What I wore to McKinnon's today is exactly what I wore on the first visit. So how could I have looked smaller? The scale said: 172 lbs.!!! I re-checked it three times, then and found the scale in Gram's bathroom, which said the same thing. Twelve pounds in three days? Well, that's interesting! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ June 11 It's been a helluva week! More of exactly the same, of course, namely eat lift eat nap eat swim eat lift eat crash! Amazingly enough, I seem to eat more every day. Breakfast has gone from 2-3 eggs and toast and Vegemite to 8 eggs and 6 pancakes and a pound of bacon and Vegemite. But I don't seem to be getting fatter. In fact, my abs – my body's one good point – are looking sharper all the time. Not sure how that could be but, hey, why would I complain, right? I guess it's all going into my lifts, which get better every day. I know you're not supposed to do a full body workout every day but that's what I wind up doing, split into three sessions. Man, I really love working chest! It's great Pops has a Smith machine because I'd feel uncomfortable benching without a spotter. As it is, I have a feeling of total self-confidence! And my lifts get better every day! The first day I could barely bench my own weight (160 lbs.) for one rep and three days later I was benching 200 lbs. for 10 reps, which was something like an extra 15 lbs. every day. And then this past week I really took off! Today I managed one rep with four 45-lb. plates on each side! You heard it, that's 360 lbs. plus the 45 lb. bar so that's officially 405 lbs.! I mean, I know, it's a machine, right, so it's not REALLY like I'm benching 400 lbs. but it still sounds cool! I paid another visit to McKinnon's this afternoon and, well, that was kind of odd. Steve acted like he didn't recognize me at all! I said "Hey, Steve" and he replied with "Hiya" and kinda looked at me like "Who the hell are you?" I asked him how his week had been and before I could say more he snapped his fingers and said: "Oh, I got it, you must be that Roger kid's big brother, right?" I laughed out loud! "Steve," I said, "what's the deal? I'm Roger – I don't have a big brother. Or a little brother. Or a sister. I'm a singleton!" His mouth fell open. "What are they feeding you out there?" he blurted. I rolled my eyes. "It's just me," I said. "I'm feeding myself. Gram and Pops are in Japan and my parents are in Germany. I've got the summer to myself!" He shook himself and then rang up the bill. "Well, man," he said. "Whatever you're doing, keep it up! It's working!" I laughed and said I'd see him in a week. As soon as I got home and put the groceries away, I pulled out the scale again. 200 lbs.!!! Good God Almighty! How is that possible?
femdom Nadia, Alpha Teen Female
Emil posted a topic in StoriesIt was a sunny warm late afternoon in August. James Ramsbottom found himself standing in the parking lot belonging to Westwood Fitness in San Delgado, California. He wore clothing fit for a gym; a bright teal T-shirt, blue shorts, tube socks and bright white Nike sneakers. Looking at himself in a reflection was always a bit like love at first sight. Catching himself reflected upon a window of a Ford Bronco he ran a hand through his wavy blonde locks making certain it was perfect. 'A-prime beefcake,' he thought to himself. James was on the prowl. Today could've spent the afternoon lounging at his favorite sport club named Killearny but he was in search of someone he had heard so much about from friends. What he had heard not only peaked his curiosity but his other head down below as well. This someone was a girl, only 18 as it turned out, and was quite a sight to behold. One friend had mentioned that she was a real freak. Whether she was in the sheets or not he forgot to ask. This girl was presumably working out inside this very gym. James actual reasons for his visit had to do with adding this supposed dynamo to his stable of young women who had already fallen for his charm, good looks, libido, and prodigious sexual organ that swung under his sweatpants. Do it before Chad, Chuck, Brandon, or any other member of his circle tagged her. 'In and out bag and tag,' he thought to himself. He mused that getting women into bed was becoming easier nearly to a point of it ceasing to be a challenge. The girl in the gym would be no different after all she was only 18. If she wanted to see a freak he'd show his power wand between his legs. Mr. Ramsbottom's circle of fellow alpha male friends nicknamed themselves the Aqua Velvas a bit tongue in cheek to be sure. They dressed and walked to impress the fairer sex. They all had the swagger, the euro sports cars, the Aspen Winter condos that screamed wealth even if it came from Mommy and Daddy. It worked. Women fell for their charm. You could spot an Aqua Velva on the streets or in a club by what and who they wore. A virtual litany of Italian fashion lined the closets of it's members. Not only Italian clothing but Polo, Izod, Jordache, Guess, Ralph Lauren, and Burberry to name a few. Her name was Nadia Niculescu. Nadia lived in a fine neighborhood ten-minute drive from Westwood. She had happily married parents who were both doctors at Stanford University Hospital, and she had a younger brother named Alex. Both Alex and she were less than a week from becoming a freshman and senior respectively at San Delgado High School. According to James' friends Nadia also had a huge breasted raven haired BFF named Sonia Savich. He looked to add Sonia to his list of conquests too. James did a quick visual sweep of the parking lot to see if he could spot either one of Nadia's two means of daily transportation. Depending on the weather and whether or not she had to drive her little brother to school she often drove a car or rode a motorcycle. In this case she drove her car, and there it was. A black '69 Big Boss Mustang. James chuckled as he walked up to it shaking his head. A girl who drives a car like this must be 100% bad ass and a freak between the sheets. As for the car her Mustang was an extension of Nadia herself. Loud, big, brash, powerful, and full of business. He shook his head as he peered through the glass window and saw that the interior needed a cleaning. 'Messy girl', James thought to himself. He hated messy women. He loved discipline in his girlfriends. Neat, orderly, on time, and willing to take his orders on command. He caught his image reflected off of the glass. James let out a sigh and thought to himself, 'No wonder the chicks go wild.' Mighty fine indeed after all he was built and incredibly strong there was no argument there. The T-shirt he wore was stretched out, his shoulders, arms, and forearms were well developed. From top to bottom he was the perfect image of physical fitness. He checked to see that his perfectly coiffed dark hair was in place. He smiled at his male model looks and winked. James was certain that Nadia would instantly find him scorching hot. How could she not? He opened the doors to Westwood and took in the interior space which was quite spacious. The entire building broken into three large sections. The largest of which were the free weight and adjoining Nautilus rooms. There was a slightly smaller space reserved for hard impact step aerobics classes, one of which was in session. The walls were painted light gray, with neon lights accents spread about to break up the monotony of gray. The interior design allowed for a multitude of floor to ceiling mirrors. The carpeting was a slightly darker tone of warm gray. There were steel framed posters of male and female hard bodies hanging along the front lobby and rear hallway leading all the way to the locker rooms at the back of the gym. Near the locker rooms were several saunas, whirlpools and one Olympic sized indoor swimming pool. James approached the front desk in the lobby as "One Night in Bangkok" by Murray Head Music began to play through the overhead speakers. A buff guy behind the front counter wearing a name tag that read Chase looked up at James and asked, "Hi there, need any help?" "Ah, do you have a membership form?" James asked. "Yep, sure do. Here you go," he handed James a clipboard before adding, "We can give you a day pass in the meantime. What's your name?" "The name's James," he said. Chase wrote up a day pass and gave it to him. "Chase you mind if I take this form with me and fill it out later?", James asked after all he wasn't here to join but to bang one of its female members. "Hey, no sweat just fill it out when you have time," he replied as the desk phone rang. "Where did you used to work out?" Chase asked after he finished helping the caller. "Oh, ah Gold's. You know down in Venice," James lied. "Awesome. Yeah, I love Venice Beach, pretty rad place," Chase said. "Say, uh is Nadia here?" he inquired. "Bennings or Nicu….Nicul…", Chase said appearing to have some difficulty pronouncing her last name. "Uh, Niculescu." "I can never say her last name. Yeah, she's in the weight room. You want me to point her out or go get her?" "Nah, I'll go and find her it's no problem man," James smiled heading off knowing from the descriptions given to him by his friends would suffice. As he did so James passed several full length mirrors. This time he didn't stop to admire himself as he was on the prowl for his new prey. There would be time for self-indulgence later. James crossed the threshold into the weight room. It was crowded and even from his vantage point there was a bit of difficulty picking Nadia out. The song "Shout" by Tears for Fears came on. James really hated that tune. For an instant he thought he spotted her near the other side of the huge room. Was that her? There were so many other patrons it was hard to tell. James was told she had chestnut reddish brown hair cut in a short pixie style with one side slightly longer than the other. His target had brown eyes, and was at least 5'11". His friend's words 'She's a freak, built like a tank' sounded off in his head. He maneuvered around others as he descended into the maze of equipment racks, dumb bells, barbells, weights, sweat and grunts. He expertly maneuvered avoiding two 'roid kings. James then looked to his right. His jaw dropped. There she was! He simply couldn't believe my eyes. She looked stunning and incredibly powerful. 'Fuck me she is a tank' James literally had to catch his breath. It's one thing to imagine someone from a description but to actually see them up close is entirely different. She exuded a scorching sexuality that was different than anything he'd encountered before. Nadia was performing squats with several muscle-heads hanging around her like a pack of vultures. She was doing a hell of a lot of weight from the looks of it, well over 675 lbs. Despite the incredible weight she did them with a sense of ease her motions incredibly fluid. She wore black spandex shorts and a red OP T-shirt cut off at the midriff with sleeves and collar removed. She had a red bandana wrapped around her head acting as a sweatband and wore a pair of red Reebok sneakers to top off the ensemble. From James' vantage point Nadia had an insanely over-developed V-shaped back that tapered to a small waist. Her traps and deltoids were just massive. Shoulders that made up of segmented muscle striated in bands that reminded James of a cluster of bananas. Her legs and ass looked as if they were straining to burst out of that spandex. Nadia's huge quads looked like they could crush coconuts and those big diamond shaped calves would make male bodybuilders green with envy. 'Jesus I can't believe this a chick, and a teen at that!' James wasn't expecting Nadia to look like this. She was far beyond anything he'd ever imagined. He had seen from magazines, articles that featured a few women who had achieved some impressive muscle size and physical strength. There was the famous Mary Logan a Scottish immigrant living in Chicago who amazed audiences in the 1890s with near super human strength. With her stunning beauty and physique Mary lifted wagons, pulled teams of oxen and boxcars with a disturbing sense of ease. Then there was Madamoiselle Emelie Guingand who in 1913 was photographed hoisting a French Army 75 mm artillery piece over her. James' mind recounted the feats of Yulia Kachaturova a Soviet blonde beauty who bested the French woman by lifting a tractor over her head in 1940. Yulia's cute smile not showing a hint of strain. These women were legends and as such a legend is something that existed in the past. James never expected to some face to face with a modern day legend. Not here in San Delgado California. Yet there she was. She was just finishing a set when James looked to her reflection in the mirror as he approached her workout station. Muscle-head #1, her official spotter apparently said something to Nadia that made her smile. In fact all the other guys hanging around her were making fools of themselves trying to get her attention, lauding over her. It turned his stomach to see guys act like that. As he came closer James' eyes and hers made contact in the mirror. The gaze lasted less than a fraction of a second yet it caused James to stop in his tracks. Those dark smoky eyes of hers appeared to bore right through him. As he walked behind her the spotter gave James a sideways look that wasn't too friendly. James wasn't moved by his gaze. 'Know your place limp dick.' He felt a bit dumb retracing his steps to perform a second pass. As James did so he caught her looking at him in the reflection as she was about to start her last reps. His dick twitched. James figured Nadia would be finishing up soon. He looked around the remaining parts of the weight room before leaving to check out the rest of Westwood. While he waited he caught glimpse of a woman who reminded him of one Cameron Feagin. Cameron was a young woman in her early 20s who was passed around various members of the Aqua Velvas like some VCR tape. An aspiring actress she was fooled into sleeping with James and his friends who did their own style of acting by making her think they had contacts with various Hollywood agents. Cameron was stunning, desperate, and fortunately for James quite naive. Then one day in Tijuana he spiked her drink like many of his friends often did with girls. She had a severe reaction, foamed at the mouth and died. James panicked and rang a friend who in turn knew of someone in the Mexican underworld. For five thousand dollars this Mexican placed Cameron's body in the trunk of his car and drove off with promises to bury the body somewhere. James' only reaction after a while was the bitterness towards Cameron for dying and to his drug dealer friend who told him the spike was "the shit". Yeah the spike 'Was shit' he thought. Suddenly there was movement out of the corner of his eye. Nadia approached. His heart rate increased as she walked near James to get a drink of water from a fountain. 'I can't wait to get this one into the sack. She'll be in my black book in a category all by herself'. When she got within a few feet of him, those eyes of hers suddenly locked onto his. James could've sworn there was a super charged bolt of lust that flashed between the two. He licked his lips. "Hi," she said. "Hey there," James answered straightening himself out to appear taller. She wasn't wearing a bra. James sized up her breasts to be a bit more than a handful. His cock twitched. Her nipples were quite pronounced as if she was already turned on. He slobbered over her exposed midriff that revealed a set of abs that resembled silver ingots. 'Shit she's something else,' he thought. "You must be new. I've never seen you here before," Nadia remarked as she removed the red bandana from her head. "Yeah, I just moved up from L.A. I wanted to find a gym and chose this one." "Well I'm sure you'll like it here," Nadia replied. 'Love her eyes,' "I know I will," he smiled. "Work hard, play hard that's my motto. All the gym members here are totally serious about gettin' their bods in shape. You should fit in really well." "Well looking at you I'd say you definitely work hard, very hard. You're unbelievable," said James. "I play hard too." "That I have no doubt. You need a play partner?" he asked with a sly grin. "Kinda depends on a few things," Nadia replied her eyes checking him over. "Oh, like what?", he asked. "Whether you're the type that really gets me off. You know the kind of guy that lives in my fantasies." "Was I in your last fantasy?" James grinned. A slight smile broke across her face and she said, "Hmmm, the stud in my fantasy had a great big cock and a pair of balls the size of lemons that he kept bragging about," Nadia said putting her hands on her hips and looking straight into my eyes. 'Damn look at those delts and biceps!' "Is that right? Well look no further I'm your man." "You think you're my fantasy dude?" she smirked. "I might be," he replied. "Really?" she chuckled in a manner that revealed she thought otherwise. Before James could say anything she stepped forward and put a hand down the front of his sweatpants, her gaze never broke from his. A devilish smile soon appeared across her face. He got an instant hard-on. "Oh, hey jeez wait uh, let's go somewhere private," he said. Her hand stroked his organ and balls, massaging them before pulling her hand out from his sweatpants. She smelled her fingers, a flash of lust appeared in her eyes. She grunted softly, "Yeah, you might be right stud. I think we did have a session the other day." Overcome with lust he blurted out seemingly out of control, "I gotta pound you deep with my big dick." "Mmmm, that's more like it. Well then Mr. Big Dick let's see what you've got. Haul it out and pound it for me", she cooed. "Uh, right here right now?" he asked incredulously. "I love to see a guy pound his own meat. Are you game? I so want to see those balls bounce while you jack off," she cooed. James looked around and despite both being in a hidden nook well away from the public eye, doing something like this was something he tried to avoid. She didn't seem to care one bit. "Maybe you're not the stud from my fantasy. Sounds like you're a fuckin' wuss," she smirked. "Yea? Well maybe it's too big and you're simply afraid," James blurted out. She laughed, "Haul it out pal." "Nah, you better do it," he shot back. She still had that smirk on her face as she slowly got on her knees and pulled his sweatpants down to his knees. She grunted as she saw James' turgid cum cannon spring up. The thing was getting fatter by the second. Veins stood out like roads on a map along the entire thick shaft. The energy James felt as it pointed skyward never failed to send a wave of power through him. James had always thought he could ram his cock through armor plate. He looked down on Nadia and upon seeing her kneeling down before him his slight case of anxiety he had earlier left him. "Fuckin' suck it now," he hissed. She looked up at him as if she was about to say something subservient as most women did to him but instead her dark eyes glowered back, "I don't think you get how this works stud, you're my toy." She grabbed his cock and rammed it into her mouth and down her throat in a mere three seconds. Her deepthroating skills were beyond anything he'd ever experienced with the vast majority of the thousands he'd fucked in his twisted sex crazed life. Up and down, up and down, up and down she went glazing his shaft with spittle. The blow job was heaven and he wished it would last longer but James already felt the urge to splurge. She sensed it and each time he was about to blow Nadia pulled on his ball sack preventing relief. In a matter of two minutes he went from dominant to dominated. She yanked on the ball sack and squeezed gently, "Who's in charge fuckwit?" Pain and pleasure hit his nerves at once making James groan. She did it again this time harder, "Answer you fuck." "You," he grunted. "What was that?" she squeezed. "Ow, shit," James winced. "That's not an answer," she shot back. Her offensive against his cock and balls continued unabated. Pressed up against a wall he was now receiving more pain than pleasure as his lower abdominals were cramping from the need to release the tsunami of seed. "You are, y-you're in charge," he stammered wishing he could cum. "Mmmm? Want me to stop?" she asked. "P-please," he asked nearly begging. She grunted, "Fuck that boy-toy." By now his balls were turning a shade of cobalt blue and the cock head a tint of violet. He was literally squirming to get away at which point she stood up. One hand stretching and massaging his ball sack to prevent the impending explosion. She used a forearm to push James back against the wall, her face only inches from his. "Don't squirm wuss, you'll only make it more painful," Nadia said pressing harder into his chest. "Ah, shit please I gotta blow," he spluttered. "You wanna blow your big wad huh stud," she whispered. "Y-yes, p-please," he grimaced as her arm press was starting to affect his breathing making him wonder just how strong this girl truly was. "Want me to make it all better, make the pain go away?" she said quietly. The pain and general discomfort he was undergoing was in fact getting a bit more extreme. She was enjoying every minute. She was clearly in charge and she made him know that. James had no doubt she must've made other guys feel the same. His anxiety came back this time full force. His legs felt weak. He wondered if Nadia even had a steady boyfriend. She most likely went through guys like a hot knife through butter. Hell, she probably collected them, made them do whatever she wanted. Being faced with her incredibly muscled physique, strength, height, and beauty Nadia was intimidating. She knew it of course and therefore used that to get what she desired. James suddenly realized he was being bested by his counterpart of a sorts. "You're gonna eat your own cum dumbfuck," she sneered. "What?" Before he even had time to fully register what she had demanded she grabbed the back of his head and forced James to double over while holding his balls and cock in the other. His neck and back muscles protested by causing the Alpha male to yell out briefly. Before he knew it his own cock was rammed into his very own mouth. She held James in a semi balled up position and growled, "Eat it slave," as she helped to release the torrent of jizz held back for so long. It shot into his mouth and throat, rope after rope of hot seed blasted forth. The stuff was coming out of the corners of his mouth and nose. She laughed. James felt as if his own jaw was about to break from the size of his bloated cock. He was beginning to gag and tried to pull his head back but her forceful hand kept his head locked onto his own meat. James' back muscles began to burn from the pain. "Yeah, that's it stud eat it. Oh, yeah like that," she smiled. She held him folded over as James was forced to eat his own seed. He'd finally stopped cumming but she held him in that position for a short while berating him in a hushed tone of how inferior he was compared to her. Finally, Nadia gripped his hair and yanked his mouth from the softening cock. James made a gasping sound trying to inhale as much air as possible. His face was a red mess, tears ran down his ruddy cheeks cum plastered over his square jaw and dimpled chin. "You look like shit faggot. You should get yourself cleaned up," she snickered. His head was spinning and his muscled limbs felt heavy as if they were made of concrete. His growing anxiety forced him to blurt out, "You bitch, you're really fucking crazy." Her sly smile disappeared, and her dark sultry eyes began to glower in anger. She grabbed his aching crotch squeezed hard making him yelp in pain. She single-handedly hoisted 225lb James off the ground, "Yeah, you do need a wash." James knew he was in for it and tried to reach for her throat. She sneered and struck him in the solar plexus with a punch that made him see all the stars in the Milky Way. All of the air within him left his lungs like some airplane cabin suffering a decompression at 35,000 feet. She threw him over one of her broad shoulders walked down the hall and kick in the door to the hot tub. With one foot she kicked the machine on making the water effervesce in a cavalcade of bubbles. Like a sack of garbage, she threw the now demoted Beta male in the water. He gasped for air as thrashed about attempting to recover from the aching sensation in his gut. He wiped the hair and water away from his "dreamy" blue eyes and there she stood. Her hands upon her hips looking down at him as if he truly was subservient. Even now he was in awe how her gym outfit conformed to her outrageous body. "I own your ass. You're gonna learn like everyone else that I run the roost. Capiche? Soon you'll worship the very ground I walk on," she said in a tone that yielded an overwhelming sense of self-assuredness. "Do your parents know what you're like? Do they know what you do, how you act?" he demanded. She smiled and replied, "I'm an A student, a loving helpful dutiful daughter to my parents and supportive protective sibling to my younger brother. Do they know how I treat scum like yourself? No, of course not." "Well maybe I ought to tell them," James replied back to her. "Hmmm, that would be a poor choice bucko. I'd bury your ass if you did, and I do mean bury," she smiled her eyes boring holes through him. "Okay missy," he'd had enough of her attitude and scraped what little pride he had left. "Missy? What decade are you in?", she laughed. James scrambled out of the hot tub, his self-esteem nearly shot. The idea of being challenged by a girl was more than he could bear. If news got out of this episode no woman would ever want to be seen with him ever again. The "Superstud" James Ramsbottom would forever live in shame. He had to do something. "You look pissed," she said as he fumbled his way over to her. "You're damn right I am," he barked. "Shhhhh, calm down little man. Don't spaz out. I see you still haven't learned. Therefore, I'll have to be much firmer with you," Nadia said in a calm voice that only served to agitate him more. The light and shadow played games across her incredible musculature. Nadia's back looked like some geographical relief map of valleys and rolling hills of raw muscle. He couldn't help feeling a tiny resurgence of lust down below. 'I'll rape this mouthy bitch raw,' he thought to himself. "I'll be the one who's firm. Just assume the position and take it like the whore you are," he demanded. "A whore? How about an introduction first. Why don't you say hello to my Enforcers," Nadia answered. "Your what?" "My Enforcers," she reiterated doing a double bicep pose. 'Fuck me', James was astonished even a little frightened by her physique. Her arms were truly huge and those lats of hers, by God! He guessed the size of her guns to be around 23 inches (at least) in diameter with biceps that actually sported a double peak. The vasculature wrapped around steely forearms and bicep muscle like cables. He gulped. She wobbled a huge glute before tensing the muscle that revealed segmented musculature, "And these are my glorious Pythons." Nadia was a complete package with attitude to boot. "I think you need to lay off the juice honey." Nadia laughed, "You think I take that stuff? No way Jose. What you see is all me pal. Just me, myself, and my killer genes." "Yeah, sure whatever you say. Your genetics alone are responsible for all that muscle and your feminine charm," he snorted. "I'm a great person once you get to know me, I mean as long as you stay on my good side that is, " Nadia replied. "Oh, I bet you're all sugar and spice bitch." "Isn't that what you like in a girl? For her to be innocent, sweet, and submissive or do you like them to be dominant like me? Maybe you don't have a preference. You just see what flips your griddle and go for it," Nadia said fawning an air of innocence. "Take a fucking guess," James said grabbing a towel to dry off. "Did you get all your own cum off?" she snickered. "We aren't done here," he muttered. "You know I bet you're a sub. You act like Mr. Dominant but secretly you love to be the receiver. Am I right? Now what would be your hottest fantasy? Lemme think for a sec." "I can guess your story honey. A guy you really liked once said you were the lamest lay he'd ever had. That dashed your dreamy dream of skipping off into the sunset hand in hand with him. So you swore to yourself you'd punish every guy you'd meet especially those like myself who are confident in who we are. Guys like me are a reminder of that one that got away." Nadia laughed clapping her hands together, "Wow! Is that what you think? Do yourself a favor and never become a psychologist, you truly suck." James' mouth was dry and he wiped water from his face. He'd have to seriously take her on if he was to recover any sense of self-worth. He'd never live this down if he lost. Whatever happened next he'd make up one hell of a story later for his friends. "Okay b-bitch whatever, your t-times up. I'm g-gonna kick your ass and f-fuck you r-raw," he said. She snickered in response which caused her cobble stone abs to tighten and her breasts to jiggle. Nadia imitated his speech, "Oh r-really y-you're gonna k-kick my ass? For sure. It's time you got on all fours and kissed my feet worm." Nadia gave him an open handed slap to his face. The sound reverberated throughout the room and gym. Her hand struck his face and made a sound similar to a bullwhip cracking. The impact caused the male stud to lean hard over. Something brilliant white flew from his mouth and skittered across the tiled floor. James thought he was about to lose his balance and fall over. The entire left side of his face burned something fierce but that wasn't the only sensation that that made warning bells go off in his head. For some reason the vision from his left eye was suddenly blurred. No, correct that he had no vision from that eye period. "What the fuck!? Shit I-I can't see out of my fucking left eye. Shit!", he exclaimed. "I think you lost something else bozo. Better look in the mirror," Nadia chuckled. He staggered over to one nearby and was shocked by what he saw. Half of his face was beet red and one of his famed pearly white teeth had a problem. A guaranteed public image problem, "You fuckin' bitch! You knocked the cap off of one my front teeth. Fuck!" He saw her in the mirror's reflection standing behind him hands on her hips with a big grin across her face. "I think it went over there somewhere, "Nadia nodded. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" James got on his hands and knees to look for his prized cap on the floor and blubbered, "Where is it?" "Jeez stop spazzing out. I didn't even hit you that hard," she said. "I-I think you detached my retina too. Shit!" "Gotta admit there are times I don't know my own strength," Nadia shrugged. "There it is!", he cried out as he spotted the lone tooth cap hiding in a corner. James tried to examine it and went back to the mirror. What would his fellow Aqua Velvas think of him looking like this? A tear welled up in his eye and he sniffled. James stomped his foot in frustration like a petulant child, "No, no, no! I look like crap dammit!" "Are you crying? Holy shit you are! Oh my god you're such a fucking fag! What a freakin' pussy. I was about to say that I'm not done with you here but now I'd actually feel bad beating you to a pulp. I give you permission to leave. Really just get the fuck out of my sight you freak." He turned to her and for split second thought about rushing her before making the wise decision to cut and run. His face all red he replied, "This isn't over bitch and you know it!" She could only giggle at the Beta male with the fucked up tooth trying to make threats, "Hey bud, you better hope I don't see you again because if I do I guarantee I'll turn you into my very own meat puppet." A member of Nadia's fan club was nearly bowled over by James who staggered out from the whirlpool room muttering to himself about how he was going to 'kill the bitch'. He was followed by Nadia herself who slowly sauntered back to the weight-room. The fan club groupie just shook his head and said to her, "Nadia you're such a heart breaker, or should I say neck breaker." She smiled back and replied, "You know it."
Manzeum (Conclusion & Epilogue)
arpeejay posted a topic in StoriesBy Richard Jasper Conclusion & Epilogue Part 7 can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15455-manzeum-part-7/ Actually, asking Alan wasn't required. He dropped to his knees (again!), this time in pulling down Kevin's shorts and – PLOOP! – swallowing Kevin's thick piece whole. "Oh, Big Daddy," Kevin moaned. "This young man knows how to suck!" Roger stood behind Kevin and wrapped one of his gargantuan arms around his lover's thick chest, playing with Kevin's thick, pointy nipples, massaging Kevin's squat butt with his other hand. "Alan," Roger growled. "How would you like for Kevin to fuck you?" The young black bear pulled off Kevin's 9-inch tool. "I'd like that very much, sir!" He whipped around and presented his juicy, rock hard for Kevin's inspection. Kevin wasted no time plunging his shaft into the bear boy's meaty ass. Kevin wrapped his 21-inch biceps around Alan's big thick chest and lifted him off the ground. Roger, who'd been cranking the whole time, couldn't take it anymore. He plunged his 12-inch kielbasa into Kevin's quivering hole and lifted both of them, nearly 500 lbs. of man meat, into the air. All three came at the same time. "Whew," Kevin said afterwards. "Good thing that door is sound proof." Roger chuckled. "Like you think they don't know what happens in here?" Kevin's sheepish grin acknowledged the unlikelihood of that idea. "Uh, Alan," Roger said. "I hope you're not, you know, in the closet or anything. Because, if so, I think we just blew your cover. Big time!" Alan snorted. "As if! You are taking to Mr. Leather Cub 2018, y'know!" Roger looked at Kevin, who shrugged? HE knew! "I'm old and out of touch," Roger admitted. Alan laughed. "Oh, yeah," he said. "You're old, alright! 35 tops, I'd say!" Kevin rolled his eyes. "Do you suppose…?" he asked. Roger shrugged the tectonic plates that comprised his shoulders. "I'm kinda thinking so," he said. And so they had a little chat with Alan, who had not been altogether attentive when it came to noticing Roger's D.O.B., despite having asked him for it when he first administered the shot. +++ What would have been the sixth week of the study, Roger gained an average of 10 lbs. of muscle per day, adding two inches per day to his chest and nearly an inch a day to his arms. And whatever was in the stuff that was affecting Roger's dick decided to play catch up, growing half an inch per day – for a week. By the time the week had ended… 450 lbs. 3% body fat 90 inch chest 45 inch waist 50 inch quads 38 inch biceps And his dick? 15 ½ x 12 On the third day he'd surpassed 400 lbs. and that's when Kevin had suggested – insisted, actually – that he start training at night, when the gym was closed. "You're scaring the customers," Kevin said. The same day, Roger put his house on the market and cashed out his investments. The real estate market was hot enough that he had an offer on the house for $50K over his asking price the very next day. "You know why I'm doing this, right?" he asked. Kevin nodded. "No one in their right mind is going to believe that you're Roger Funderburk," he agreed. "You're twice the size you were six weeks ago and you look young enough to be your own son. Hell, at this point, you look young enough to be my nephew." Roger sighed. "I love it," he said. "I wouldn't trade it for anything. But…" Kevin laughed. "Yeah," he said. "It's the pain the ass. Wanna trade?!" Buying a new identity cost Roger a cool $100K. Fortunately, the alias maker was down with the idea of passing off the NEW Roger as his late lesbian sister's previously unrecorded offspring. So he was still "Roger," just "Roger Funderburk Jones," a 28-year-old named for his late mother's baby brother. "I think Lisa would be cool with it," Roger said. Kevin clapped his hand on one of Roger's medicine-ball delts. "I'd say it's a nice memorial. You done good." For his part, Kevin sold the gym for a bundle with only one proviso – that Alan become the gym manager. His staff members were a bit taken aback that their new boss was a somewhat chubby, 5'8, 235-lb. 25-year-old with no previous gym experience. "He knows everything he needs to know," Kevin assured them. "Namely, where to find me! In the meantime, expect BIG things of him!" EPILOGUE Roger Funderburk Jones and Kevin Doyle Leonardo settled in the back of beyond. It might have been Upstate New York or the mountains of Montana. It might have been Alaska or very rural Maine. Wherever it was, they kept to themselves. It was a biggish property, a couple of hundred acres, with a big, 10,000 square foot Timber lodge sort of house in the middle of it, 10-foot ceilings and extra-wide doors, with every amenity you could think of, including a separate 2000 square-foot facility with an indoor pool, sauna, steam room, and fully-equipped gymnasium. They were BIG guys, even though neither of them topped 6 ft., one of them clearly a bodybuilder, the other an absolute mountain of a man. He was rumored to be a powerlifter or a World's Strongest Man competitor, even though his name never showed up in the lists. A year after they moved in, a third giant man showed up, this one African American, which would have stood out in itself in such a rural, predominantly white area. But this kid – and clearly he was in his mid 20s at most – was HYOOCH! No more than 5'8 or 5'9, he had to tip the scales at close to 350 lbs. and all of it solid muscle. It seemed likely his chest was bigger around that he was tall and his arms were pushing 30 inches. Plenty of young guys in East Bumfuckia had waists that size or smaller – and everyone who saw those arms, no matter how straight, was sporting wood by the time he had filled up his rental car, had a piece of Miss Maxine's delicious blueberry pie, and headed up to see "The Guys," as they were called. BING BONG! The door was already opening by the time Alan pressed the bell. "Baby Boy," Kevin exclaimed. He stuck his enormous hands under Alan's armpits and LIFTED, swinging the muscle behemoth around like he was a little kid. "Daddy Kevin!" Alan exclaimed. A Mountain walked into the room. "OK, OK," he boomed. "You've had your fun, Kevin. Now put the boy down. Unless you want ME to do the same to you?!" Kevin stopped spinning and hugged Alan close. At 450 lbs., Kevin had a hundred pounds on Alan, all of it muscle, and he was at least twice as strong. And two inches taller than when he and Roger had moved to the Back-of-Beyond. "We will have plenty of time to play later," Roger said. "Now I just want to give me little man a hug!" Alan threw himself into Roger's arms. Like Kevin, he had grown a couple of inches taller. And even though it had slowed down considerably, Roger's muscle growth had continued unabated. At 6 ft. he was now 750 lbs., all muscle, with dimensions that beggared belief. It was all Alan could do to reach his arms halfway around Roger's 60-inch neck. "You are looking mighty fine, Young Mr. Montgomery," he said. Roger held Alan at arm's length. Alan might have been a kitten for all the effort Roger seemed to be expending on holding his 350 lbs. in the air. "Have I been a good boy, Big Daddy?" Alan asked. Roger glowed. "A very good boy indeed," he said. Alan's eyes took on a mischievous light. "Then don't I deserve a prize?" Kevin laughed. "I can think of one," he said, whipping out his 12-inch dick. Roger growled at the sight of it. He never got tired of looking at it. "Maybe you could do something with THIS?" He pushed down his bespoke fleece sweatpants. Twenty inches of man meat sprang free. "Ooh, Daddy," Alan said. "Is it OK if I try to make it grow some more?" Roger chuckled. "Go right ahead, son. Give it your best shot!" He had a dream so big and loud, They jumped so high they touched the clouds, Woah-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh THE END
Manzeum (Part 7)
arpeejay posted a topic in StoriesBy Richard Jasper Part 7 Part 6 can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15442-manzeum-part-6/ In the 4th week, Roger had gained an average of 6 ½ pounds of muscle per day. Three days into the 5th week, Kevin pulled him into his office. "I think you're growing faster than ever," he said, pointing to the bariatric scale he kept there. "Hop on." Roger did and the numbers flashed and flickered before they finally stopped. 345. "That can't be right," Roger said. "That's as much as I gained in the first two weeks of the study!" Kevin motioned Roger to take off his shirt and join him front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror that lined one wall of his office. "You don't believe the scale," he said. "How about the mirror?" At 245 lbs. of solid, competition quality muscle, Kevin was rightly regarded as a "big dude." And next to Roger, the new Roger, he looked like a little girl. "Let's get out the tap measure," Kevin suggested. Chest: 69 inches Biceps: 29 inches "You've added four inches to your chest and two inches to each of your arms in three days," Kevin pointed out. "Do you believe it now?" Roger just shook his head. "At the rate I'm going…" he started… Kevin did some quick math in his head. "Another 10 days in the study? At this rate you'll be about 425 when it ends." Roger was rock hard. Kevin was rock hard. "Do you want to fuck me now or after you work out?" "Uh…" "Actually, that's not a question, Big Daddy," Kevin continued. "Fuck me now!" He ripped off his shorts and leapt onto Roger, wrapping his big arms around Roger's 28-inch neck and his legs around Roger's ripped-to-shreds 35-inch waist. Roger pushed his shorts down and started air-fucking Kevin then and there. "I hope you locked the door," he whispered. Between gasps, Kevin replied. "It…locks…automatically!" +++ Dr. Peterson was upset. "Mr. Funderburk," she said. "This has gone far enough." It was time for Roger's sixth and final shot but the endocrinologist wasn't having it. "You're 375 lbs.," she said. "This CANNOT be good for you!" Roger worked on keeping his voice calm. It had dropped another octave over the past week and as someone who had always had a gay-accented tenor it was taking some getting used to. People reacted differently when you sounded like James Earl Jones! "Dr. Peterson, I know my growth has been unusual but you keep telling me that my blood sugar, my cholesterol, my blood pressure, are all consistent with those of an athlete in his early 30s," Roger pointed out. "How can it NOT be good for me?" But Peterson was adamant. "I would like to see you again in a month," she said. "If no untoward changes have occurred, we can talk about whether it's appropriate to go forward." Roger didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he headed back to the gym. "She cut me off," he told Kevin when he got there. Kevin looked the Big Man up and down. "Are you sure that's a bad thing?" he asked. "You're as big as a house and these days you look like my YOUNGER brother." Roger pulled off his shirt and posed. 375 lbs. of solid muscle and a rich, luxuriant coat of brown-block curls that did nothing to hide the muscularity of his torso, legs and arms. For a musclebear lover like Kevin, he was a walking wet dream, with a 75-inch chest and 32-inch biceps. Plus there's the foot-long dick, he said to himself. The ridiculously THICK foot-long dick! "Seriously," Kevin continued. "There's not a bodybuilder on Earth with your proportions. There are some bigger guys out there but none as built as you are. And some that are better conditioned but nowhere within a lightyear of your size. And with a fuck pole like that you ought to be doing porn. How much more do you need?" Roger growled. Any more that was an intimidating sound. "But I want more," he said. "I don't know why I know it but I know I'm destined for more." Just then, Kevin's phone buzzed. It was the front desk. "Someone to see YOU actually," Kevin said. "From the clinic." Roger's ears poked up. "Really? Well, well," he said. "Let 'em in!" It was Alan, the hunky young African American bear nurse from Peterson's office. A visibly NERVOUS, Alan, in fact, with a backpack slung over his broad beefy shoulders. His hands were trembling and his brow was sweaty. Roger's reaction was instinctive. "C'mere, boy," he said, gathering the young man in his giant arms. "Whatever it is, it's OK." Alan's nose was buried in Roger's massive hairy pecs. "Uh, Mr. Funderburk," he said, speaking into Roger's chest. "There's something I need to tell you." Roger let go and Alan collected himself. Before he could start, Roger put his calloused meat hooks on Alan's shoulders. "And let's drop the Mr. Funderburk stuff, OK? It's just 'Roger.'" Alan adjusted his pants. "I know Dr. Peterson wanted to put the study on hold," Alan said. "But I had already prepped the dose. And I brought it with me." Roger's jaw dropped. "But but but…." He began. Kevin, who hadn't been rendered speechless, picked up the thread: "But won't you get into trouble? As in, serious, possibly permanent trouble?" Alan nodded. "Quite possibly, although, uh, well, I fiddled with the records," he confessed. "As far as the system is concerned, this dose doesn't exist." Roger leaned over Kevin's desk and dropped his shorts, exposing his beach-ball sized granite hairy glutes. "Then let's have at it!" He didn't have to ask twice. Alan pulled out an alcohol swabbed, wiped down the target, and plunged the syringe to the hilt. "That was fucking hot," Kevin observed, casually massaging the log in his shorts. Roger turned and beamed at Alan. The young man – he looked like Donald Glover's bigger, beefier, baby brother -- dropped to his knees when he saw the bulge in Roger's gym shorts. "Please, sir, can I…?" Roger cupped the young man's beautiful face in this hubcap-sized hands and pulled him to his feet, whereupon he gave him a deep, passionate kiss on his lovely lips. "I can't thank you enough," Roger said. Alan just stood there, eyes-closed, sighing. "I can think of one or two things that might suffice," Kevin pointed out. Alan's eyes flew open. "But maybe we should ask Alan first?" The Conclusion and an Epilogue can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15458-manzeum-conclusion-epilogue/
Manzeum (Part 6)
arpeejay posted a topic in StoriesBy Richard Jasper Part 6 Part 5 is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15440-manzeum-part-5/ Roger felt like he had been pole-axed. His world trembled. "What am I going to do?!" he exclaimed. "Scott was on Manzeum, too! He was their shining success – and I'm growing even faster than he was!" Kevin put his hands on Roger's shoulders. "Just because…" he started. Roger sank to the bed and buried his head in his hands. "You don't understand, Kevin. This is everything I've ever wanted and now this!" Kevin crossed his big beefy arms and pursed his lips. "Uh, Roger, there's something you need to know," he said quietly. There was an odd, diffident quality to his voice. "I hate to speak ill of the dead," Kevin continued. "But Scott had a major drug habit. Every PED you could think of. Plus…" Roger looked up. "Roger, there's no prettying it up. Scott was a cokehead," Kevin added. "There, I said it. Not kind but true. And over the past couple of months from what I could tell he upped his consumption. Of everything." Roger sighed. "So you're saying it might not have been the Manzeum?" Kevin nodded. "Not on its own," he agreed. "Maybe in combination with all the other stuff he was taking. But maybe not all." Kevin cleared his throat. "And, you know, it's really not up to you whether Peterson continues the trial," he said. "But you also need to remember that you've put on at least 50 lbs. of muscle in three weeks, probably more than that if you count the shift in your body composition. If the trial ends, you're not going to lose that." Roger left his left arm and F-L-E-X-E-D. Twenty-three inches of grainy, veiny marble leapt up. So did Kevin's dick. "If I never have another dose, I'm not going to let this go," he said. +++ The next day, the doctor gave him a call. Kevin tried to listen in but all he heard from Roger was "yeah," "yeah," and "OK," interspersed with grunts, and, finally, "that's good to hear." When he ended his call, Roger looked, well, relieved. Not happy, but relieved. "The toxicology report came back," he said. "Technically, I'm not supposed to know anything but she told me anyway. You were right about the PEDs. And the cocaine. The coroner is going with 'heart attack' as the official cause of death but privately he told Peterson that it was a wonder Scott's chest didn't actually just pop out of his chest." Kevin whooshed. "Very, very sad," Roger added. "Such a beautiful man." And I never did fuck him, he added to himself. "Yes, he was," Kevin agreed. "And seriously fucked up, too." Over the next week Roger worked harder than he had ever done in his life. He was going to the gym five times a day – once each for chest, back, legs, shoulders, and arms – and spending two hours on each session. Kevin was agog. The big man had just as much energy at the end of each session as he did at the beginning and he was just as strong for his last session as he was for his first. "You're, uh, not 'supplementing,' are you?" he asked at the end of the first day. Roger stood and hit a mind-blowing most muscular. "Baby aspirin," he said, dead serious. "Calcium. Fish Oil. Multivitamin. That's it." Kevin didn't know whether to laugh or cry. That week Roger gained a little more than 6 lbs. per day, all muscle. The night before Roger's appointment, Kevin got out the scale and the tape measure. The results were, well, astounding. Or they would have been if Kevin hadn't seen it happen with his own eyes. Weight: 315 lbs. Chest: 65 inches Waist: 33 inches Arms: 27 inches "And let's not forget this one," Kevin said, grabbing Roger's monster dick. 10 ½ x 9 "Fuck me," Kevin said softly, after calling off the numbers. Roger chuckled. "Whenever you're ready…" Looking up at Roger's face while the Big Man pounded his ass into oblivion, it occurred to Kevin that all signs of aging had vanished from Roger's visage. He could pass for 38, Kevin thought. Easily. More so than I can and I *am* 38. And then Roger's massive rod and powerfucking took him over the edge. He lost consciousness. +++ Roger's visit with Peterson was understandably awkward. "I am ambivalent about continuing," the doctor said. "Losing a patient is devastating…" Roger placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "On the other hand, there's NO indication that the Manzeum had anything to do with his incident," she continued. "In fact, weird as it sounds, there was NO indication that Manzeum was anywhere in his system." Roger sat on the examining table, his massive veiny, corded forearms resting on thighs bigger than the average man's waist. "I want to continue," he said. "And am I not correct in thinking that Scott Allen was actually doing his SECOND course of Manzeum? And that he had zero detectable side-effects during his first six weeks?" Peteson shrugged her shoulders. "No physical side effects," she qualified. "In retrospect it was clear that he was exhibiting signs of mania..." Roger arched an eyebrow. "Whereas I am still in my first course…" he pointed out. Peterson flapped her hands. "And, no, you've exhibited NO signs of mania whatsoever," she agreed. "Happiness, yes. Dedication and perseverance, too. But you're not too keyed up to talk about it." Internally, Roger let himself relax. "So we're continuing?" he asked. She nodded, then paused. "Just don't forget that this is totally weird, OK? Nobody gains 95 lbs. of muscle in a month!" Roger smiled. You ain't seen nothin' yet, he said to himself. Peterson left the room and the nurse – a new one, a hunky bear boy named Alan, apparently – came in to deliver the shot. Roger gave him a toothy grin. Oh, you ain't seen nothin' yet! Part 7 is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15455-manzeum-part-7/
Derrick and Me Rewritten (Chapters 0 - 2)
Bearbo posted a topic in Stories--------------------------------------------------------------------- Update: Finally This took me a good few days to re-write, and, in all honesty, I'm far from done. However, I am proud of what came from all the work I put into it, so I hope that all of you enjoy these few chapters. I will continue adding more chapters to this post, so come back regularly to see any further updates in the story! Also, before I close this small update out, I just wanted to ask you guys something that has been jumping around in my mind for the while. Would any of you be interested in paying for some content? I'm not saying that Derrick and Me will become something that you have to pay to see. No, that would be insanely dumb. This story will always be free for everyone. But like, would you guys be interested in being able to pay for things such as having yourself included within the story or having the power to tell me to write different stories for your pleasure? I'm just curious, since I was thinking that I could do these things for you guys if you want it! It would help me financially ( since I'm a broke college student) and will help me become a stronger writer. Tell me how you feel in the comments, please. With that said, I appreciate all of you and your support! Hope you all have a nice day. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 0: Epilogue I was just a 15-year-old when I first started high school. I had no friends whatsoever, and I did not gain any for a while, due the overall shyness that I had ever since I was in elementary. Around that time in my life, it was just me doing my school work- day in and day out - without barely any sort of human interaction besides from the occasional talk I would have with my parents. As every other boy and girl went out hanging out with their friends, I just sat by and did nothing but just work. While this might seem boring to some others, I was rather complacent with such. After all, I was never the one to go out to the movies, or to date, or anything like that. I couldn't even imagine myself doing anything of the sort, because I believed that no one would want to hang around with a dumb introvert like me. So, I just kept my head in the books, not worrying about what other people did. I think It was about halfway through my first year in high school that I met this boy named Derrick. He was about a year younger than me, and he had just transferred from a school a few cities away. He did not know anyone at my school, he was not even used to the environment by the time he got there. Because of that he acted rather shy the first few days of his arrival, not talking to that many people and doing mostly his work – just like me. But, in that of just a few weeks, he broke out of that - becoming the most popular guy in school – going out everywhere with everyone and trying to have a relationship with practically everyone in the school. Especially me. I didn't pay him that much attention during that time, with the reason being that I was still a shy person. But, despite this, he would always try to talk to me while I was working, or glance at me periodically during class time. Truth be told, I told him to fuck off most of the time, since when he did this he would be distracting me from something. But, no matter what, he would continue to try to do this. And, as he continued to harass me, I continued to ignore him. One day, though, things were different. That day was bad; My mother and father had a nasty fight in the morning, and it was about me. I felt guilty after that, feeling as if I was the one who caused all that tension, so I was just sitting by myself during lunchtime thinking about what I did wrong. I guess that Derrick noticed how much I was hurting, because, when he came up to me, he asked me if I was okay. I told him that I wasn't, but I refused to expand on why that was so. He didn't try to pry it out of me, but, instead, just sat by next to me and started rummaging through his bag. He happened to pull out this magazine and placed it in between both of us. It had this extremely humongous and vein-y man flexing on the cover, with the title reading "Will he surpass even last year's Mr. Olympia". "Dude, this guy is absolutely huge! Are you into this stuff?" Derrick asked me as he flipped through each page in the magazine, showing me, all of these muscled up men and woman as an attempt to get me out of my depression. As my eyes scanned every page, I started to feel myself getting lost in the amount of muscle that was being thrown at me. "Uh, well, no. I'm not. Sorry" I lied through my teeth. Once Derrick heard what I said, he looked like a kicked puppy. He did flip through a few more pages just so that he could finish looking at all the bodybuilders in the issue and started putting it away in his bag. I noticed that he was packing up and reacted quickly. "I mean, yeah, I'm not interested. But, do you mind telling me who the guy on the cover was?" I said hesitantly, feeling as if I unleashed Pandora's box by asking this overbearing extrovert something about his favorite. In the end, I was right. As soon as he heard me ask that, his eyes shined. He went on this huge rant on the bodybuilder I was interested in - talking about his weight, arm and leg size, and his work out plan. That whole time he just kept on repeating the bodybuilder's name. Jake Summers this and Jake Summers that! I lost count on the number of times he repeated that guys name. I made sure to remember this person's name when I reached home that day. As soon as I was in the privacy of my room, I went straight to where my desktop was and turned it on as fast as I could. I wasted no time in going on the internet and typing in the keywords "Jake Summers shirtless" into the search engine. In that of a half second, my screen was decorated with hundreds of pictures of this large, symmetrical being lifting weights and flexing to the camera. I remember spending hours just scanning through pages of this guy showing his muscles. My jaw would drop whenever he would take off his pants to show off the work he did on his thigh. To be honest, even up to this day I still find the width of his leg to be amazing – something that I still wish to strive for. The next day, while I was sitting by myself at lunch, I spotted Derrick talking to his friends. While I wasn't usually the one to initiate conversation, I really wanted to learn more about the bodybuilder and the magazine that Derrick showed me before. I jut sat there, staring in his direction for a few moments, until I built up the courage to go up to him. I was somewhat scared while doing this, but, when I started talking to him, everything came out smoothly as if I was a natural at this. Me talking to him about Summers caused a table wide conversation about it. I even ended up sitting with everyone so that we could talk about this month's issue. While I just wanted to talk to Derrick about the magazine and the bodybuilder, I gained so much more from that. I became closer to people that I never thought I would ever associate with. I found myself continuing to meet with them to just talk about bodybuilding, and the accepted me into their fold. I started to feel like I belonged; I started to feel what it is like to have friends. On top of that, I started developing a sort of inner connection towards bodybuilding. Not only did I start reading more of the magazine that Derrick showed me, but I even started working out and changing my eating habits. I started dreaming of one day being bigger than the guys that I saw in the magazine. I became a bodybuilding fanatic, and all because of Derrick. Derrick noticed how interested I was in getting into bodybuilding, so he asked me if I wanted to start going to the gym with him. I would think that, from that point forward, we started becoming friends. Hell, maybe even closer friends than everyone else than he went out with. With every chance that I we got, we would work on meal prep and workout routines, while also talking about events that were happening in the bodybuilding community. Our relationship grew as we continued to work out with each other, coming to the point where we thought of ourselves at brothers. We became closer as we became bigger and stronger. We pushed each other to the limit for that of 12 months, and, by the time that we were in 10th grade, we were the biggest kids in high school! Besides from the gym, we were just insanely close. We would chill with each other more than anyone else, and, sometimes, when the workout that we did was strenuous enough, Derrick would just crash at my house for the night. When this happened, since we didn't have an extra bed for Derrick, we would both just sleep together on the same mattress. Sometimes, when Derrick wouldn't have anything to sleep in, he would just strip to his jockstrap and sleep next to me, and neither of us would mind. We did not mind much of anything due, really, to that the fact that we just grew to know a lot about each other. I kept telling myself that sleeping together in just our jockstraps was what friends usually did, and that it was nothing beyond that. Whenever he slept in my bed, close to naked, I tried to pay no mind to it. When I tried to go wherever he went, I thought of it as just a friend being a friend. But it was more than that, and, as the years went by, I started realizing that. How much time I spent with him, the feelings that I had when I was around him in and out of the gym. It was more than just me trying to be a friend – it was me being infatuated with him. It was me being in love with him. I never told him about my feelings, and for so many reasons. One of them was because I did not know how he would react to them. I did not just want to blurt it out and end up losing such an awesome person. But the others ranged from me being afraid of me being gay, to me being outed and having to deal with what everyone things. I was scared about what would happen if I came out to Derrick, so I never did. I just maintained – or, at least, tried to maintain, our brother like status for as long as I could. But then, one day, I came to school and noticed that Derrick never came to class, which was out of character for him. I looked everywhere in the school for him, and even talked to his friends about it. No one even heard from him that day. I was worried, but I thought that Derrick was just sick and that he would simply come in tomorrow or even see me later in the day. However, this was not the case. Derrick ended up not coming to school for days, and, by that time, I was starting to freak out. I ended up going to his house to ask his father about what happened, but, when I asked him about the whereabouts of my friend, he just told me that he was just visiting family. Just that – family and nothing else. He didn't tell me where his family was, or even when Derrick would be coming back home. I was even more worried than how I was before. I kept trying to get in contact with him for weeks, but nothing ever came to fruition. I started to think that something bad happened to Derrick. Those weeks turned into months. It soon came to the point where I went to the dean's office to ask about him. That's when I learned that Derrick would not be attending my school anymore. At that moment, the possibility that I would never see Derrick again hit me harder than a rock. I just remember going home and crying to myself, so upset about what was happening. I never did find out why Derrick left, let alone if he was even alive or not. Going to the gym was never the same without Derrick. He was the person that kept on pushing me whenever I would slack, so, without him, getting through my plan became harder. I contemplated just quitting bodybuilding all together due to not having Derrick to push me. But I didn't, and I'm so happy that I didn't quit since I knew Derrick would have wanted me to continue pushing myself in his absence. I ended up pushing myself ten times harder than I ever had even while Derrick was with me, and, by the time that I was in my senior year, I was practically half as big as those IFBB bodybuilders that both of us would have seen in the magazines. It was about 10 years ago that I met Derrick, but it was around 8 years since he disappeared. Within that time frame, I got over my fear of coming out. Ended up telling everyone about my sexuality. While I did lose many people due to this, I ended up becoming closer to those that loved me regardless. I started my career as an IFFBB bodybuilder as soon as I got my diploma and started being followed by all bodybuilding magazine outlets. On top of that, I ended up putting a ring on one of the boys that I met at that table a few years back. So much has happened within those years, but I still felt that so much was left unfulfilled. It's like a gaping hole. I still wanted to say so much to Derrick – to, at least tell him that he was such a nice guy, and that I loved him so much. But, most importantly, I just wanted to ask why. I just want to know the truth behind why he left. But, I felt as if such a day will never come, and, while it hurt so much, I forced myself to move on and be happy with what I have, and not dwell on the past. Chapter 1: Alone By the time I was done with work, the sun had already set, and the streets were dead quiet. I always hated walking this late at night, but, at this time, I did not need to worry about college kids trying to pick fights with me due to my size or gay boys trying to hit on me. Especially the gay boys, whose' flirting were surprisingly aggressive in these parts. I felt at peace at this hour, so I took what was presented to me. Usually during the day, especially at my work, I had to deal with so much. Due to my size, the outfit that I had to wear at work would barely fit my figure. I had to be careful with my arm movements, so that I didn't rip anything and cause myself to spend fifty bucks on a replacement. Then there was my boss, who constantly gave me shit for bumping into things repeatedly, as if I wasn't trying my best to avoid all his mess in the small area we worked in. Then there was the onslaught of customers bringing their cars in to be fixed, preventing me from just catching a breath. But now none of that matters. The lose tank top that I wore allowed me to swing my logs with ease, and I had all the time in the world to think about myself and my routine for today. As I walked and thought to myself, I reflected on how lacking my chest looked. Last time I measured, I was around 50 inches in size. My fiancé was around 60 inches. I still found it impressive on how he was able to surpass me like that, but that only meant that I needed to push myself harder. By the time I reached Dalthorn's Gym, I decided on how I would blast my chest – incline bench press, flat bench press, dumbbell fly, dips, and some pull-overs. Would need to do all of them to failure, and I would determine when it would be time to call it quits. I soon found myself at the front entrance of the gym. I scanned the entire frame, taking into consideration how the frame did not even come close to being able to fit my body through. "Well, here we go again" I said as I opened the pull-out door. The people at the check – in counter noticed what was happening and started chuckling. "Yeah, you keep on laughing! Just watch when I come in there" I threatened, however playfully. They all stopped laughing though and resumed doing their work. "Sorry about that, babe! We're still waiting on that guy to come in and replace that door with something bigger. Need some help?" My fiancé, Elliot, said as he jogged around the desk to come and meet me at the door. As he made his way towards where I was, a grin formed on his face. "You seem to enjoy me suffering, Eli. I know you had to deal with this today, too" I said. I backed off from the door to allow Elliot to come outside and hold the screen open for me. He had some trouble squeezing through the frame, but he still managed to get through to help me out. "You're right, but that usually happens under certain circumstance." Elliot grinned as he looked at me. "The Difference is that I don't have to subject myself to it every hour of everyday. The backdoor is the only door big enough to handle my size, and I have the keys to it!" Elliot bragged about his work privileges as he patted the keys that hung loosely at the side of his waist. "Why can't you just be nice and let me through the back, dude. What have I done to deserve this abuse" I grumbled to myself as I started to squeeze myself through the small opening. "Because, if I do, then I won't be able to do this anymore" Elliot said. While I tried to get through the door, I felt two large hands clasp and squeeze my ass. "Oh, I see. Tch, get your handful, Elliot." I said as I quickly flexed my bottom, causing it to get hard. "Believe me, this is the closest you'll get towards having an ass this big." I added. I ripped by ass away from my fiancé's hands as so to finally get through the door. Feeling free to move as a I please again, I turn around to place a small kiss on his lips. "Thanks, dude" I said as I drew myself away from Elliot's lips. "No problem. Now, if you excuse me, I'll be heading to the back now" Elliot said as he jogged towards the back of the building. After watching Elliot disappear, I made my way towards the check – in desk to get myself scanned in. Since Elliot wasn't there yet, the only person managing the desk was Elroy, a guy I knew ever since High School. "Happy that you didn't get stuck in the frame again, Barns" Elroy joked as he took the ID that I handed to him. "Don't start now, man" I said, with a fake serious expression on my face. There was a time where I was rushing into the gym and got myself stuck in between the door frame. Took me a few minutes to get out, but, ever since then. Elroy wouldn't stop harassing me about it. It's not like it mattered to me, though. But I always tried to make it seem as if I got pissed when people joked about, just for the hell of it. "Hey, I wasn't starting anything. Anyway, Here's your ID. Have a good workout" Elroy said with a small smile plastered across his face. "Thanks. Catch you around closing time" I said as I took my ID. With everything set for myself, I rushed to where the locker room was located, so I could prepare myself for my work out. As I walked away from the counter, I heard some commotion coming from where Elroy was. While I wanted to turn around to see what was up, I decided to ignore it and focus on getting myself ready for my workout. My time in the locker room was that of a quick minute, as all I had to do was throw on my shorts, get my water bottle, and lock everything up in my locker. Many of the regulars that I knew in the gym tried to strike up conversation with me while I was getting ready, but I refused to let them sidetrack me. I was too excited to get back into my natural habitat, and to push myself to the very limit. I was quick to leave the locker room, and, as soon as I reached the bench, I went all out with the weights. By the time 45 minutes passed, I was half way through my work out. I was at the point where I was finishing up my 12 set of incline bench presses. With each movement, I felt my chest stretch and tighten – veins showing themselves through my thin skin. The pleasure that I was experienced while doing this was immense. It was like, with each time I lifted the weight over my chest, the endorphins would course through my body. This was the reason why I loved coming here, because this was one of the few places where I could achieve this sort of feeling. "Eighteen…nineteen… Twenty…fuck" I said as I struggled to get out that one last rep. With all my might, exerted all the energy out of my upper body into that one last push, and lifted the weight over my body once more. The intensity of the workout reached its climax, and so the pleasure reached its best. And like the sun, it quickly came up and quickly went down. The energy, pleasure, and strength drain out of me, as if I was slowly dying. Without hesitation, I dropped the weights, took a quick sip of water, and started making my way towards the next machine. As I lifted my body up from the bench press, the sweat from my previous work out fell off me like a waterfall. With the amount of sweat that was on my body, my tank top was properly soaked. Feeling uncomfortable with how my tank stuck to my skin, I pulled it all off – exposing my glistening hairy chest, and the six pack that I have been working on for years. As my chest hung out in the open, my veins still showed themselves through my skin, while the whole upper body region throbbed endlessly. Wanting to admire my work, I looked down and playfully popped my pectorals - laughing to myself and feeling as if I was king. "Yeah! Just one more" a trainer a few feet away me shouted as he helped a woman lift her weights. "One more, Lenna! You can do it!" the man said as he supported the woman, who was trying her best to finish up her last dumbbell curl. She took a deep breath, and, with all her might, she pulled her 20 pounders up. While I didn't show it, I was chuckling to myself about how she couldn't manage the 20-pound dumbbells. Not because I thought I was better I was better than her, but it just reminded me on how much I used to struggle when I first started lifting weights. After she was done with her set, she dropped her weights and started laughing to herself while, also, trying to catch her breath. "Jeez! Derrick, don't you think that this kind of workout is bit too much for me? I haven't even been in the gym for about a month. I think I need to go slower" The woman said as she tried to catch her breath. "Nah, girl. You got this! If I let you slack, then how am I going to help you get that summer body? Don't you want to look like this" the trainer said as he raised his arms, flexing them and causing them to look insanely large. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks." The woman said as she checked out the complete size of her trainer. "So, is that it for today?" She asked. "Yes, we are done for today. But remember what I told you about your diet. Try to cook more at home and try to eat within your daily calorie intake for now. We'll work more on it, later" the trainer said as he picked up the weights surrounding them. "Oh, of course! Thank you so much, Derrick" The lady said as she hugged her trainer. The hug lasted longer than necessary, and I noticed that the man was looking increasingly uncomfortable. As he stood there getting hugged, he noticed that I was staring straight at him, and he let a sheepish grin as he got the lady off him. "Have a good night, Lenna" Derrick said, chuckling as so to hide his discomfort. "Night, big guy" The lady said as she made her way towards the woman's locker-room. As soon as the trainer saw her disappear into the lady's locker room, he turned himself around a and made eye contact with me. He still held that sheepish smile from before, as if he was embarrassed about something. "Hey, dude, I know the feeling. Some of these people just like us for the muscle and that's about it. Sucks, but comes with the job, right" I said to the trainer. "Yeah! What can you do, right? Plus, having that kind of respect is kind of nice" the trainer said, laughing to himself. "Knowing that people love what they see kind of pushes me to become bigger, so I'll take it." "Right. Hey, quick question…" I said as I scanned the face and body of the man standing before me. "Yeah? What do you need, dude?" The trainer said as he made his way towards my direction. As he got closer, I noticed small rose and vine tattoos decorated all over his arms, and some scaring on his shoulder. The definition in his arms became more apparent as he approached, making me quite impressed with the work he put into himself. "Yeah….do I know you? I swear, I heard her call you Derrick, and I know someone by that name. You kind of look somewhat like him too. I was just curious" I said, as I continued to check the man out. The only answer that I got was a hardy laugh from the man. He seemed amused by me wondering who he was, which only confused me. "I knew that you would barely be able to recognize me. Can't blame you, though. Struggled to recognize you when I first saw you. Sup, Barnie?!" The man said, as he tried to hold back his hardy laughs. "Wait a damn second. Derrick? Is that you?!" I said, as all the pieces fell in place. The facial features, the voice, and the scars. This was Derrick, this was my Derrick. I couldn't believe it my eyes. I grabbed him and embraced him in a large hug, letting a deep laugh escape my body. "Dude! This is insane. Everything about you is just so different. You're almost like a whole new person." I said as I held Derricks shoulders. The Derrick that I knew a few years ago was different from the Derrick now. Before, he was about 5 feet, with very bony facial features, an afro, and long sideburns. His voice was so much softer, too. But, now, he was a very tall man – possibly 6'0. All his hair was shaved off, leaving him with something like a baby face. His arms and legs were large and toned, making it look like he barely had any fat under that skin. On top of that, the developed a deep, strong voice. "I guess that is what puberty does to ya, am I right? But, Barnie, look at you! How you been doing? You look nothing like how you did back in High School" Derrick said, as he scanned my entire body. "I guess it's puberty, and a bit of genetics. You're looking at 8 years of work, man" I said, mildly flexing my arms. "Man. I'm actually proud. I remember when we started going to the gym together. You were as skinny as a stick. Now look at you!" Derrick complimented as he continued to scan me. He focused his eyes onto my biceps, examining every corner and bulge. I noticed him doing this, so I started to flex my arms a bit harder. "Haw, show off" Derrick mocked as he, too, started flexing at me. "I guess you guys have seen each other" Elroy said, as he walked in our direction. "Dude, you knew he was here?" I asked, surprised that no one told me about Derrick coming. "Yep. Believe me, I was just as surprised as you when I first saw him. Just popped out of nowhere, really! Anyway, I was just coming over here to give Derrick something" Leroy said as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a white, folded piece of paper and handed it to Derrick. "This is the order sheet for the uniform that all trainers need to wear. Yours will be special due to your body type. Get that in to me by tomorrow, and we'll get you set up" Leroy said. "Yo, thanks for this again. I really do appreciate everything" Derrick said as he read the sheet. "Man don't even mention it. I'm just happy that you're back. We really got to catch up during the weekend" Leroy said, as he let out a wide smile. He waved goodbye as he went back to his desk. "Hey, man, I got to finish this thing up. Will I be seeing you in the locker room?" Derrick asked as he resumed checking me out. "Yeah. If anything, we can talk in about an hour. But, dude, are you working here" I asked. "Yep. Surprising, isn't it?" Derrick said, letting out a quick laugh. "Dude, that's boss! Hey, maybe give me a free training session" I joked. "Yeah, sure, dude! And how about you do my bills for free too?" Derrick joked. We both started laughing together, just like how we used to. With how we were acting, it was almost as if he hasn't left at all. After that, we both parted ways for the time being. After talking to Derrick, it was as if I felt this different energy coursing through me – the same energy that I felt when I had Derrick there to help me out with my workout. I was just so happy that I could see him again. But then I was also surprised. Why did he just show up so suddenly? Why hasn't he contacted me before he came? For him to disappear for 8 years and then to appear out of the blue like that was extremely weird. I placed these thoughts at the back of the mind for the moment, but I planned to bring it up to him whenever I had the chance. But, for the time being, it was time to finish my workout. Chapter 2: Reunion By the time that I was finished with my workout, the gym was emptied out and the doors were about to be shut. The locker room, around that time, was barren of any form of life, so I could have easily just taken off all my clothes and stood naked as I got ready to leave. Instead, I just sat there in my underwear, packing some of my stuff into my bag. The workout was still recent, so, as I sat down on the cold metal bench, I could feel my pecs pulsate subtly. I was still damp from the workout, so the sweat acted like a natural oil that brought out the definition of my muscles. I was able to admire every bit of the progress I made. The definitions of my six pack abs showed profusely. Every ab popped out and was perfectly aligned with each other. I admired my throbbing chest, counting each long vein that bled from my skin. I popped my pecs a bit, snickering to myself about how heavy and large they have become. I then checked out the logs that I call arms, slightly flexing them to make every muscle and vein pop. With my other hand, I traced my fingers over each crevasse bulge. In a few moments, I found myself lost in the formation of my body. "Stop feeling yourself" Elliot said, as he stood at the corridor of the locker room, smirking to himself. I quickly rose my eyes from my body, caught off guard by Elliot. I just chuckled to myself as I stopped flexing and plopped myself onto the bench behind me. "Hey, I should be able to appreciate what I have" I said as I gathered my tank and threw it into my gym bag. "Sure, Barns. You keep appreciating what you have. Might as well appreciate you lack as well" Elliot said as he walked himself in front of me. As he approached me, he ripped off his shirt, exposing his superior abdominal and pectoral muscles. He placed some stress on them, having all of it pop right into my face. I knew he was just playing around with me, so I played along. "Bitch…I don't lack anything" I said as I placed stress on my chest and abs. "What you see right here is 270 pounds of pure muscle right here, chiseled to perfection". Elroy looked me straight in the eyes for a few moments, and then reached his hand out to my left bicep. He then pinched me, and gently pulled my skin. "Bitch…you have more fat than me! Keep sucking your dick" Elliot said, as he continued to pinch my skin. I couldn't help but get somewhat tilted at that, but I still maintained my demeanor. I pushed his hand away and popped my pecs while looking at him seriously. "Man, you don't even know what you're talking about!" I said, faking the anger in my voice. "Jeez, babe, don't get upset. Just playing with you" Elliot said. He moved his hands to mt hips and pulled me close to him. We found ourselves just embracing each other, with me only in my underwear. I sill tried to make myself look upset, but Elliot saw through me. He leaned in, and placed me into a kiss, causing me to slowly melt in his arms. After a few seconds, he took his lips off mine. "Dude, you know that you look good. But you know you can always get better…" Elliot said, now brushing his hands over my back. "I know, babe. But I really do wish that I had a chest as good as yours" I said as I moved my hands from Elliot's hips and onto the chest. I softly squeezed his chest. While I did so, Elliot went in for another long kiss, this time more passionate than the last. "You will one day. I'll help you out with it" Elliot said in between kisses. As we continued to kiss, I started to massage his chest. I moved between moving my fingers across his chest in a circular motion to squeezing it firmly. As I continued to do this, he, softly, groaned. Happy that I was pleasing him, I decided to try something else. While I pressed deep into his chest, I quickly moved my fingers to his nipples, and slowly massaged him. At that moment, he pulled away from my lips and looked down at what I was doing. He groaned louder as I continued to rub my fingers across his two hanging members. Wanting to take it a bit further, I looked around the place to see if Derrick was anywhere around us, and, after making sure that we were both alone, I bent my head down and took his left nipple into my mouth. At that moment, he let out a loud groan, and his body started to crumble. I helped him lay down on the bench, and, once he was settled, I started feasting on his nipples once again. "Ung…stop, Barnie. Please. Someone will…" Elliot tried to push me away from his chest, but, before he could have done so, I wrapped my lips around his left nipple, and sucked it a bit harder. At that moment, he stopped talking and continued to groan, pushing my head down into his pectorals. "D-don't stop, please" Elliot stuttered as he started blanking out due to the amount of pleasure being delivered. "That's what I want to hear…" I said, knowing that my fiancé has now given himself over to me. I took my mouth from his most sensitive nipple, reached over to my underwear, and pulled it down over my leg – exposing the huge erection that I kept hidden from him. My fiancé looked towards where my dick was, admiring how veiny it was and how much it throbbed. I flicked the sweaty article of clothing into my locker, and then I laid my heavy formation down on Elliot – taking his head into my hands as I passionately kissed him. We fought each other with our tongues as I slowly grinded my crotch against his, causing his to grow considerably. That went on for a few minutes. Within that time frame, I kissed and twisted his nipples to get him fully erect. Once his dick got so big to the point where it felt uncomfortable to be in his pants, he pushed me off and started removing everything. We soon found both of ourselves naked and making out on top of the metal locker room bench. After a few moments, he we started to change positions. I laid in the same spot Elliot previously laid in before he got up. He moved over to where my head was and positioned his cock over my head, preparing to have it sucked by me. He crouched over my head, making sure to direct his cock right onto my lips. I, playfully, refused his member, as what we usually do when we have sex. But, after a few moments of Elliot saying, "Take this dick" and slapping it across my face, I gave in to his demands and started sucking the head of his dick. He placed his hands on his hips and looked down – silently groaning to himself as he looked at my feasting on him. "Shit, babe, keep sucking that dick" Elliot said as he forced his cock deeper into my mouth. And that I did – I started to constantly lick his head while it was so far in his mouth, while occasionally deepthroating him. Whenever I brought his cock that far into my mouth, how he would arch forward and clench his teeth made it all worth it. I started deepthroating him more often during that session, which drove him wild. After a few moments, he wished to deliver the same pleasure that he was feeling. He laid his entire body down top mine and decided to take my full cock into his mouth. I groaned loudly as I felt his tongue brush against my head. It came to the point where I wanted to stop sucking him to admire him going down on me. However, he pressed his body and his crotch hard on me, preventing me from lifting my head up properly. "No, no. Keep sucking. You love the taste of that dick." He said as he shoved his member deeper into my mouth. He showed no restraint in making me take his entire shaft but was so soft and gentle when he did it. He sucked gently as he had me experience the texture of his tongue slide up and down my shaft. Every other moment, he would surprise with a bit of nibbling, causing my whole-body shudder. Plus, having his cock practically shoved into my throat caused endorphins to run through my body. With both things happening at once, I felt my mind slowly go blank as the animalistic side of me took over. "You ready to get fucked? You want this big cock right up your ass?!" Elliot asked me after a few moments of sixty- nineing me. With my assistance, his dick grew a good amount – about 6 inches – from when it was limp. Mine had grown a good amount as well, but, from how things were looking, it didn't seem like it would matter as I would be the one to be used by him. However, I wished to please my fiancé whenever we got like this, so, without hesitation, I turned myself around – exposing my glistening backside and my asshole which was practically begging for it. "Did you wash yet, babe?" Elliot asked me, as he pulled my butt cheeks away to examine my hole more closely. "N-no, sir…I'm sorry" I said, embarrassed about how I presented myself to my fiancé. The embarrassment caused me to lose some of my horniness, but Elliot seemed unphased by it. "Well, if that's the case, better get your ass to the shower" Elliot said as he took his hands off my ass. He laid himself over my back and kissed the side of my neck before getting up from the bench. As soon as he got off me, I lifted myself up from the bench as well. As soon as I got up, Elliot grabbed my hand and started pulling me gently to where the showers were. There was no need to really force me to go, however, as I wanted to keep this moment of intimacy going for as long as I could. Chapter 3: Yours *WIP* A special thank you to Vinsfield for being such an awesome guy. Without him, I probably would have never been inspired to make these series of chapters. Also, a huge thanks to Juan! Good luck in getting gigantic, dude! I believe in you!
My Bodyguard
arpeejay posted a topic in 2nd Annual Storiversary ArchiveBy Arpeejay Part 1 "Leave the kid alone." It was the first day of my sophomore year at Worthington "Worthless" High School and Ralph Peters was about to kick my ass. Ralph wasn't all that much to look at and as bullies go he wasn't all that prepossessing either. He was no more than 5'8 and at 180 lbs. he was practically barrel shaped, his shoulders, chest, and midsection all exactly the same size, with the sort of stubby arms that make you think of T-Rex. Or Nelson Muntz. But considering I was two inches shorter and all of 120 lbs. soaking wet with the muscle tone of a wet noodle Ralph was more than big enough to clean my clock and then some. Which is why when he decided to put my skinny neck in a headlock, there wasn't much I could do about it. "Leave the kid alone." It dawned on me that the deep, masculine voice with the vaguely Northeastern accent was being directed at Ralph! I had been too busy saying my prayers to realize that I wasn't just imagining it! I looked up over Ralph's flabby arm to see who was doing the talking. Wow! Who the hell was this big guy?! Well over 6 feet and well over 200 lbs., with wavy brown hair, soft brown hair, slightly stubbly square jaw, sideburns. Wotta hunk! "So whatcha gonna do about it?" Ralph sneered. "Here to save Jensen's faggit ass?" The big guy had been moving closer the whole time Ralph. Now he casually untangled me from Ralph's arm and pushed my tormentor (well, TODAY'S tormentor, I should point out) up against the brick wall. Ralph's eyes widened and he began to squirm but it was pretty clear that the guy in front of him was as much of a brick wall as the one behind him. And THEN the guy reached under Ralph's armpits (ick!) and lifted him up to eye level. "I don't like bullies," he said in a low even voice. "Pick on this kid again and you can try ME on for size, got it?" And then he just held him there. Ralph's eyes darted back and forth, trying to think of a way out of the situation that didn't involve complete and total capitulation. I swear he was chubbing up, too! "Well?" Ralph deflated. He hung his head. "Got it," he said. "Just put me down, OK?" "Put me down what? I didn't hear you." Ralph mumbled: "Put me down, PLEASE." The big guy let go and Ralph took off like a jackrabbit. "Nick Delios," the big guy said, sticking out a hand the size of a hubcap! "Roger Jensen," I replied, taking his hand. "Look, it's lunch time. How about we head over to Franklin's and I will buy you a burger. It's the least I can do!" +++ "Is that guy always such an asshole?" Nick asked, squeezing into a booth that was clearly too small for his huge frame. "He's not the only one," I pointed out. "Not by a long shot. But he's persistent." Nick shook his head. "Every school I've ever been in, it's always the same," he said, finally letting go of my hand. "So you're new here?" I asked. "I don't recall seeing you around." Nick nodded. "Yeah, a new school every year," he said. "At least since my dad walked out. My mom doesn't like to stick around one place for too long." I shook my head. "Man, that must suck," I said. "Having to start a new school your senior year!" He frowned, then laughed. "What makes you think I'm a senior?" he asked. I just looked at him. "Uh, you're fucking huge, that's why!" He grinned. "Well, yeah, but it happens," he said. "I'm a sophomore. Same as you, right?" How did he know that? I wondered. "So, uh, did your parents, uh, your mom, like, hold you back for football or something?" It wasn't uncommon at Worthless, where football was king. "I'm 15," he replied, clearly a bit irked with my line of reasoning. "My birthday was April 10th." "Get out!" I answered. "Mine's April 11th!" He grinned. "So I'm ONE day older than you are?" I looked him up and down. "One day and about 10 inches and 100 lbs. older than I am," I pointed out. "You're 5'4?" he asked. "I would have guessed you were taller!" "5'6," I replied. "And 120 lbs., if that wasn't bleedingly obvious!" He arched an eyebrow. DAMN! I was always jealous of anyone who could do that! "Your guesses are a little bit off, in that case," he said. "I'm one day, eight inches, and 130 lbs. older than you are." Hack! Gasp! Wheeze! I nearly choked on my milkshake. "You OK, buddy?" he asked, looking concerned. Catching my breath, I nodded. "You're 6'2 and 250?!" He looked vaguely embarrassed. "I guess getting tall early runs in my dad's family," he said. "I was this height a year ago and haven't grown any taller since then, so I guess I'm stuck here." I laughed. "Six-two isn't a bad place to be stuck!" I pointed out. He grinned. "I'll just have to work on getting wider," he added. Fuck! "Clearly you have the genes for it," I noted. He shrugged his yard-wide shoulders. "I wouldn't know, to tell you the truth," he replied. "I never knew my dad's family and my mom's people are all shrimps." We spent the next 45 minutes going over our life histories. He had been born in New England, spent most of his elementary school years in New Jersey, and then hopping around Upstate New York before landing in Worthington. "Welcome to the garden spot of the Midwest," I said in my best deadpan voice. He looked around. "This is as good as it gets?" he asked. I laughed. "It's Indiana so, yes, this is about as good as it gets!" His mom, it turned out, was an ER nurse. Made decent enough money, apparently, but her work hours were erratic and it seemed every year she was looking for something better. "But it's always the same," he pointed out. "Which is why I get to deal with this new school shit every year. I really think she's afraid if she sticks around anywhere my dad is going to come hassle her." I sighed. "My dad's a jerk," I pointed out. "Well, at least towards women. My mom left a LONG time ago. He has a new girlfriend every year – and it never lasts. Ten years later he's still playing the field. You would have thought the fine women of Worthington would have figured it out by now." We talked about the classes we were taking. AP European History, Algebra II, Latin II, and Chemistry for me. Basic English, Basic Math, Basic Science, and Shop, for him. "Gee," he said. "You must be really smart." I snorted. "Nah, not really," I said. "I'm just a big reader. I figured out early on that if I stuck my nose in a book I could tune out the fights my mom and dad were having. And then it came in handy when Dad decided to bring home some floozy." He frowned. "You read for fun?" he asked. "Sure," I said. "Doesn't everyone?" I swear he blushed. "Never have been a big reader," he said. "Never had any books at home and, uh, the library scares me." I laughed, then stopped when I saw he was getting steamed. "Hey, sorry," I said. "I mean, if I work at it really hard I can imagine being scared of the library. It's quiet, it's big, there's usually someone too willing to shush you, and the layout isn't really obvious. But for me it's always been my safe space. Bullies don't go to the library!" He thought about that, for a while, eating fries off my plate while he pondered. "You know," he said. "I think I have a – what do you call it? – a proposition for you…" My eyes widened. "Uh, I know what Ralph said but I'm not really sure…" He waved his hands, pushing that away. "No, you're not getting it," he said. "The deal is: You're smart, I'm big. You get bullied, I have trouble with my grades…" Slowly it dawned on me what he was getting a. Pfft! And he thought I was smart! "So if I helped you with your school work…" He nodded. "You could keep the bullies off my back?" He stuck out his hand. "My tutor," he said. "My bodyguard!" I replied. We shook on it! +++ And that was how it started. "Want to meet up after class and get started on my tutoring?" he asked. I was somewhat surprised. We'd just met and already he wanted to hang. Naturally, he misinterpreted my hesitation. "Well, if you're busy…" I snorted. "Are you crazy?" I asked. "My social life consists of posting imaginary conversations with my dog on Facebook!" He laughed. "Let me guess," he said. "The dog is imaginary, too?" I blushed. "No, no," I reassured him. "Spots is certainly real. Just wait until he decides to hump your leg." Because God knows that's what I'd be doing! And I blushed again. "Where do you live, anyway?" I asked, going for the save. I nodded that way. "1382 Maple," he replied. Wow! "Get out!" I exclaimed. "You're in the Heights, too?! I'm at 1317 Maple!" He grinned. "That's, like, the next block, right?" he asked. "I'm still figuring out the neighborhood." I nodded. "Less than five minute walk from my house, which is a 15 minute walk from here, and on the way to yours." So we agreed to meet at Franklin's, then go to my place so I could drop off stuff, and head to his place. I was on pins and needles the rest of the afternoon, looking forward to hanging out with My Bodyguard, as I thought of him, and more than a little anxious about how things would go. "Uh," I said, tentatively, as we were walking along. "You might meet my dad." He arched that eyebrow again. "It's that bad?" I seesawed my scrawny shoulders. "Depends on whether this is one of his 'take the afternoon off and get drunk' days," I replied. It's no fun being the motherless child of a drunken father but in some ways I have it lucky. Pop runs his own accounting firm, makes a decent living, and his alcoholism is pretty much confined to one afternoon a week, usually Friday (but it varies.) Ditto, he's a happy drunk, quick to tell you that he loves you, man, really, really loves you. I keep bringing him beer until he gets sleepy, then I feed him something and put him to bed. (And, yes, his problems with women have everything to do with alcohol; he gets nervous, he gets drunk, and they can never-never-never reassure him that he's good enough. Sad, really.) I know kids whose drunken parents are physically or emotionally or verbally abusive. Like I said, I lucked out. And, no, I didn't say all that to Nick, didn't want to scare him away, but I alluded to it. "My old man was a shitbag," Nick pointed out. "He only got drunk once a month but when he did my mom came out of it with a black eye or a twisted arm or a bruised rib." I shook my head. "Dude, that sucks," I said. He nodded. As it turns out, Pop was home. "Roger, is that you?" he asked as I entered the door. (As if it would be anyone else!) Please, I thought, please, please, please! And, yes, there he was in his usual "Drunk Day" attire, green boxer shorts with purple elephants and a ratty wife-beater. NOT his best look! Don't get me wrong, my dad's not a bad looking guy. He's just a couple of inches taller than I am but he weighs half again as much as I do and it's mostly in the right places. Broad shoulders, thick chest, beefy arms and legs. So, yeah, he has a bit of a paunch but he's 45 years old, for heaven's sake, give him a break. He's a lot better built than Ralphie Peters, I thought, even though they're basically exactly the same size. "Who the hell is THAT?" my dad exclaimed. I looked over my shoulder and saw Nick standing backlit in the doorway. All my dad saw was a tall, VERY broad shadow! Nick stepped forward into the light, a tentative smile on his handsome face. "Pop, this is my friend Nick," I said. "Nick, this is my dad, George Jensen." Nick stuck out his huge hand. "Nick Delios, Mr. Jensen," he said. "It's a pleasure to meet you." His hand swallowed up by Nick's, Pop just stood there and stared up at the huge teen. "Jesus Fucking Christ," he said. "You're a BIG mofo, aren't you?!" I winced. Yeah, when he's in his cups, Pop's MBA vocabulary tends to fly right out the window. Nick just chuckled. "Working on it, Sir," he replied. "I just need to get my grades up." Pop looked at me. "Ah, ha," he said. "That explains it!" I really sorta wanted to know what exactly was explained, but I really sorta didn't want to know either! "Dropping my stuff off, then we're heading to Nick's to study," I said quickly. So I left them there for five minutes to talk sports, the only thing other than accounting and beer that holds Pop's interest, while I ditched my books and changed shirts. "Oh, oh, look out," Pop said, when I returned. "He's upgraded to Rugby rather than another Comic Palooza tee-shirt." He looked Nick up and down. "You must have impressed him," Pop said. "It's quite an honor when he upgrades to Rugby!" This time Nick and I both blushed. "OK, you two, get out of here," Pop said, opening the door with a drunken flourish. And we exited. +++ "What?" We were walking down Maple, and I was muttering. It happens. A lot. I mutter. When I'm stressed or upset or embarrassed. "What?" I looked up. "Oh, sorry," I said. "When I'm stressed or upset or embarrassed, I mutter. A lot." Nick dropped his big hand on my shoulder. "Dude, I can't imagine what would have you stressed or upset or embarrassed," he said, leaning down close to my ear, as if sharing a confidence. "I was quite amused by your old man." I looked up him, I looked up at his hand. I really was happy with the thought that it might stay there for the rest of my life. "And now it's YOUR turn," he muttered. Turnabout is fair play, after all, I guess. +++ The house Nick's mom was renting was virtually identical to ours, with the layout reversed and a different paint job. Other than that, I could walk through it blind-folded and find my way around. Which I pointed out to Nick, who said "cool," and showed me his room (LOTS of bodybuilding posters), his mom's room (LOTS of Impressionist prints), and the kitchen. "Man, I gotta eat," he said, reaching under his shirt and rubbing his flat belly. I tried not to swoon. I say "flat" but I mean "ripped," "corrugated," "cobblestoned," "eight-pack," you name it. "You should eat, too," he said. "It's the only way you're gonna get big." I started to stammer something about not having much of an appetite. He held up a big paw. "Stop it right there," he said. "It's just a matter of learning how to eat. And you DO want to get big don't you?" I blushed. "I mean, yeah, of course, but look at this…" I spread my hands, encompassing my scrawny body. "Underfed," he said. "Underconditioned. We can fix that." My eyes brightened. "Really?" He nodded. "No doubt about it," he declared. "Whether we can fix me…" I snorted. "I think we just need to find the right switch to flip," I said. He gave me a quizzical glance. "What are you interested in?" He pulled back his sleeve and flexed his right bicep. I gasped and grabbed the kitchen counter. "Please don't do that again!" I blurted. He grinned. "You mean ASIDE from bodybuilding?" I was stumped. "Oh!" I exclaimed. "Yes! What are you interested in aside from bodybuilding?" He pursed his lips. "Dogs," he said. "I had to give up my dog, Daisy, when my parents split." My eyes widened and my mouth opened. "Dude," I said. "That's so sad!" He nodded. "And, well, let's see. Woodworking, believe it or not, and, uh, well, gardening." It was my turn to raise eyebrows (both at the same time, unfortunately!) "For real?" He blushed. "I wish I had a green thumb," I said before he could go on. "Everything I try to grow withers up and dies. Plants literally RUN from me!" He chortled. "They do not!" "They do, too!" Just then the front door opened and in walked a very petite, very young-looking brunette. "Nick, I'm home…" the voice stopped when she caught sight of me. "And who is this handsome young fellow?" I turned bright red, naturally. "Mom," Nick said, intervening. "Meet my friend Roger Jensen. Roger, this is my mom, Deb Delios." I took her small hand – and, believe me, my hands are small enough that I notice when someone's are smaller! "Mrs. Delios," I said. "A pleasure to meet you." She laughed. "Well, aren't YOU the young gentleman?" she asked. It was clear that she was the source of Nick's vaguely Northeastern accent. "But you can call me Deb, OK?" I shook my head. "Uh, how about 'Nick's Mom,' or, uh, 'Mrs. D'?" She rolled her eyes. "What is this? A 70s sitcom? Whatever floats your boat, MISTER Jensen!" She eyed the kitchen. "I see the monster has been fed," she pointed out. "Did he actually leave any for you?" I stifled a burp. "Two tuna sandwiches," I replied, smugly. "Which is probably the equivalent of his usual daily protein consumption," Nick pointed out. I glared at him. "Is not!" "Oh yeah?" Mrs. D harrumphed. "You two knuckleheads stop with the bickering and clean up the kitchen while I go get changed, will ya? Afterwards we'll talk about dinner. You're staying right?" I looked at Nick, lifting my shoulders. "The woman lives to feed people," he pointed out. I snickered. "Explains YOU, in that case!" Which Mrs. D was getting changed, Nick and I went over his courses, his grades, which subjects he found challenging, what was easy, and so forth. And I gave him a complete rundown of life at Worthless High, with special attention paid to cliques ("Nerds for me, of course!"), bullies, and beauties. Dinner was delicious. What mom pulls leg of lamb, roasted potatoes, a killer salad, sautéed veggies, and chocolate cake out of her back pocket? Because that's what we had and I couldn't figure out how she did. I could barely stand by the time we were through and more or less staggered to the front porch, Nick in tow. I turned to him as he stood there, towering over me. "That was great!" I said. "I had fun!" he replied. "As for tomorrow…" I looked at him expectantly. "I'm your bodyguard," he said. "I will stop by your house and we will walk to school together. We will have lunch together. We will walk home together." I nodded. "And I am your tutor, which means…" He looked at me. "Public library after school," I said. He groaned, then got a really evil look in his eye. "Fair enough," he said. "Provided you go with me to City Gym on Saturday!" My eyes nearly popped out of my head! "They won't even let me in!" I exclaimed. He snickered, evilly. "That's where you're wrong, buddy boy," he said. "All you gotta do is get your dad to fill out and sign a form. Mom has a discounted membership through the hospital and I already have mine filled out and I can download one from their website. AND I have a free guest pass!" I didn't even think about it. I wrapped my arms around his rock-solid waist and gave him the tightest squeeze I could manage. "You're the best, Nick Delios!" Gently, he squeezed back. "We'll see about that," he replied. Part 2 can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14717-my-bodyguard-part-2/
My Bodyguard (Part 3)
arpeejay posted a topic in 2nd Annual Storiversary ArchiveBy Arpeejay Part 2 can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14717-my-bodyguard-part-2/ Part 3 Spring Break was a month later. Pop and Deb (after Valentine's Day, Pop told me in no uncertain terms to ditch the "Mrs. D.") were taking us to Sanibel. "But Sanibel's boring," I said. "Nothing to do but sit around all day or ride bicycles and dodge old people." Nick, practical as ever, asked the most important question. "Does the resort have a gym?" Pop nodded. "A big one." Nick looked at me. "I think we can deal," he said. Mrs. D, I mean, "Deb," chimed in. "More to the point, some good restaurants and a great golf course. And just who's paying the freight?" There she had me. "The people who like to play golf?" Getting there was interesting. Pop and Deb had first class seats (he had miles) while Nick and I were stuck in the back. "Me oh my," the very cute, clearly gay flight attendant said as we were getting ourselves seated. "I hope you guys won't be too cramped!" By this time I was up to 5'9 ½ and 200 lbs. I had gained 40 lbs. since Christmas but only an in to my waist. Meanwhile, my chest was up to 47 inches and my arms were 18 inches cold. (And, no, I hadn't been neglecting my legs. My quads were a decent 26 and my calves were just half an inch shy of my arms. When your waist in only 29 inches, 200 lbs. goes a long way!) Meanwhile, Nick was up to 330 lbs., still with just a 34-inch waist. You've heard of yard-wide shoulders? Nick's were literally a meter wide. I knew because I'd measured them. And if you happen to be metric-challenged, a meter is 39 inches! Just then a big fat bald guy in a rumpled business suit and a brief case showed up. Who goes to Ft. Myers for business?! "I'm the middle seat," he said, grumpily. I stood up and reached for my stuff. "Actually, we're traveling together," I said. "Would you like the window or the aisle?" Just then, Ryan, the cutie flight attendant, intervened. "You know," he said. "I think I might have a solution. Y'all hang tight and let me check something. I'll be right back!" And two minutes later, he was. "That's what I was thinking," he said. "Unbelievably, we had a cancellation so there's a seat available in first class. Do you want it?" He was looking at Nick, who was clearly the biggest of the three of us. Nick broke into a big grin. "I think this is your lucky day," he said to the fat man, adding for Ryan's benefit. "Since Roger and I are traveling together, this gentleman can take it and we won't have to be split up!" Ryan beamed at him. "Super! Just follow me, sir!" I looked at Nick. He looked at me. "That was close," I said. He nodded. "A fate worse than death," he agreed. +++ We were standing on the beach, watching the sunset over the Gulf of Mexico, where people who live in little pink houses vacation down on. Or, rather, I was watching the sunset. Nick was, as usual during our visit, surrounded by a gaggle of giggling girls. Brittany, Bethany, and Dawn, in this case (or, as I thought of them, "Spittany, Biffany, and Spawn") although it could easily have been Caitlyn, Kayla, and Kate, or Sierra, Tierra, and Vierra. Wherever we went, aside from the gym, THEY were there. Always three of them, always newly conjoined BFFs, always blonde or brunette or ginger (and never black or brown or something remotely multicultural – it was Sanibel, after all.) And Nick was lapping up the attention. Well, why not? He was a fucking mountain of muscle, with board shorts that barely contained his 34-inch quads, plus a nice dusting of dark curls on his chest and abs, and for this trip hair that was slightly longer and curlier than usual, plus ever-present stubble. He looked like a college football lineman. A Big Ten SENIOR college about to go off to spring training for the Pats or the Eagles or the Vikings. If he had stood still for more than five minutes, I am pretty sure they would have devoured him literally. "What I wouldn't do for a tranquilizer dart," I muttered. "Say what?" I felt a pair of big, meaty hands on my big meaty shoulders. "I'm thinking of tranking you," I said, not looking over my shoulder. "I'm guessing that if you're conked out, Spittany, Biffany, and Spawn are going to devour you. Literally." He chuckled. "Jealous much?" I felt my inner Diva rear her ugly head but before I could say a word, a pair of giant steel girders – Nick's arms, that is – wrapped themselves around my tight midsection. "I'm guessing I haven't been overly attentive," he murmured in my ear. I leaned back into him. "You can say that again." He gave me a squeeze. "It's because we're on vacation, you know," he said. "At school I have to keep my distance or I would have some BIMBO on my arm every day of the week." I turned to face him. "Isn't that what every sophomore stud wants?" He looked down, then up at me. "Not if it gets in the way," he said. I raised my eyebrows. "In the way of what?" I asked. He took my chin in his paw and angled it this way and that. "Of hanging with my best friend, of course," he said, nonchalantly. "What else could it mean?" What indeed! +++ Two months later and it was the weekend before prom. At Worthless, prom wasn't just for juniors and seniors, it was for the whole school. A little weird, but that's how we roll at W.H.S. I hadn't bothered my freshman year – who wanted to go with a little dweeb lie me – but now… In two months I'd grown another half inch taller, to 5'10, and packed on another 20 lbs. That's right: 5'10, 220 lbs. of solid muscle. I was far and away the best built guy at Worthington High School, with the exception of a certain mountain-shaped object who shall remain nameless, and one of the strongest, too. I was benching 455. For reps. And a week earlier I had achieved what eight months previously I would have considered simply impossible. One rep @ 505 lbs. Meanwhile, of course, Nick had likewise gained another 20 lbs. At 350, he was quite literally a mountain of muscle, with a 70-inch chest and arms that were closing in on 30 inches. Ditto, at the same state competition (I had joined the team) where I benched 505, he broke the all-time world teen record: 1100 lbs. Which put him right up there with Ryan Kennelly and Eddie Hall and the world's other elite powerlifters. And what none of the judges or other competitors or the lifting world at large knew was he was faking. Out of sight of anyone but me, he was benching 1100 for reps and his 1RM was actually 1400 lbs., four times his bodyweight. So we were both feeling pretty studly and fairly self-absorbed which is why we were thoroughly gobsmacked when Mrs. D, uh, Deb, called us into her living room for a chat. And there was Pop sitting in the best chair. "Boys," he began. "Oh, knock it off, George, let me do it," she said. "You'll just get all mushy." She cleared her throat. "George and I are NOT going to be here for your prom weekend," she said. Well, that wasn't completely surprising. Self-absorbed as we were, it had been clear since Valentine's Day that we were dating. "Instead, the two of us are going to Sanibel," she continued. "To get married." "What?!!" "No way!!" And I couldn't tell you, at this point, which of us said one, which said the other. Time for Pop to clear his throat. "You see…" "Oh, knock it off, Pop!" I exclaimed. "What fantastic news!" Nick crossed his gigantic arms. "But you don't want US at your WEDDING?" Deb, uh, "Mom" maybe (?), patted his sequoia-sized leg. "Sweetie, George and I have both done the walk down the aisle thing," she said, placatingly. "This time all we want is Justice of the Peace, a suite with an ocean view and a hot tub, and maybe a golf course…" Pop snorted. "And maybe a restaurant or two, although…" "We could always order in…?" I cleared my throat. "Glad we got that settled," I said. "Now I finally know what to call Nick's Mom. From now on, it's just Mom!" Nick chimed in. "And now the two of us are going to shove off to the Jensen household so you two lovebirds can spend some, uh, 'quality time' together." We skedaddled. "That was close," I said. Nick wiped his brow. Not much causes him to break out into a sweat! "I was afraid they were going to start making out in my living room!" Back at the Jensen Ranch. "Uh, so what about prom?" Nick asked. I shrugged my big, thick shoulders. Let me say that again: I shrugged my big, thick shoulders. I loved being able to do that! "Well, clearly we're going," I said. "Prom wouldn't be worth much without its two hottest studs, would it?" He frowned. Why was he being so serious about this? "But together, right?" I rolled my eyes. "Of course, together," I said. "Unless you were thinking of asking Paige, Sage, or Rosemary?" Those three were the ones most persistent in lavishing their attentions on Nick, much to his chagrin. Cute girls (we called them the "Scarborough Sisters," after the Simon & Garfunkel song, not that they were sisters) and all smart as whips until they got around Nick, at which point they became blithering airheads. "Good," he said. "That's settled. I'll pick you up at 7 p.m." I gave him side-eyes. "You will, will you?" He nodded. "I have it all figured out," he said. "Which reminds me: After school on Monday you'll want to go to Hadley's to have your tux fitted." CLONK! "My what?!" He looked at me. "You can't go to prom without a tux, can you?" Speechless. "I gave them your measurements," he said. "But they said with a physique like yours they're going to need to make some pretty significant adjustments." Astounded. Finally, I found words. "And what about you? Where are you renting yours from? Omar the Tent Maker?" He gave ME the side-eyes this time. "Mom had one made for me," he replied. "For my birthday. Tailored." I gaped. "But haven't you put on another 10 lbs. since then?" I had. We had celebrated our back-to-back birthdays with a long gym session, a birthday cake apiece, and an overnight Netflix binge. I've never been hungover but I'm guessing what I felt the next day was in the same ballpark! "I have," he said. "They built it with room for me to grow." Once again, my BFF was revealing hidden depths. "Alrighty then!" I said, brightly. "You DO have it all figured out, apparently." He reached for the remote. "Ready for some peak television?" he asked. "The Expanse or Man in the High Castle?" I replied. He smiled. "How about both?" +++ The doorbell rang at 7 p.m. Saturday. Have you ever seen 6'2 and 350 lbs. of solid muscle in a tux? A couple of things: First, it more than fills the doorframe. Second, Mount Kilimanjaro is less impressive! "I didn't think a corsage was appropriate," said the Man Mountain. "But I thought these would do instead." He pulled a dozen red roses from behind his back. SWOON "Uh," I said. "Is this a DATE date?" He smirked. "How would I know?" he asked. "I've never been on one." I nodded. "Me neither!" A voice from the Limo – apparently one with very good ears – added. "Yes, dummies, it's a DATE!" He looked me in the eyes. Deeply into the eyes. Like Bela Lugosi looking into your guys. "Why would I go with anyone other than the handsomest man at Worthington High School?" I'm pretty sure I squeaked. "Me? Handsomest?" He snorted. "Blond hair, blue eyes, stubble, built like a brick shit house," he said. "That guy you showed me, Adam Charlton, he's got nothing on you…" GULP! "Really?" He took my hand. "Do I really need to tell you twice?" Dinner at…Gustave's? "Probably we should have gone to Sonic," he said. "Since we can't have wine and we need to get out of here. But apparently the prix fixe menu is pretty speedy." Did he just say prix fixe? I barely knew what prix fixe meant; I wasn't expecting it from him! Ray deposited us at the gymnasium promptly at 8:30 p.m. When we walked in hand-in-hand… Gasps! "Can you believe it?!" Cat calls! Whistles! Claps. "I think I'm gonna be sick." That last was simultaneously from Ralphie Peters and Sierra-Tierra-Mariah or whatever her name was. For a lumbering mass of muscle, Nick was surprisingly light on his feet. For a couple of musclehead white boys, we weren't totally without rhythm. And, finally… The slow dance. I'd been dreading it. I knew the theory but… "Just follow my lead," he whispered. Turns out Taylor (I was never going to forget HER name) had taught him ("when…?") how to slow dance, knowing what he had in mind. And at the end, in front of 500 Worthington High School students, teachers, and parents, he kissed me. It wasn't a brotherly peck, either. I thought it was just me but when it was over there was absolute silence for about 30 seconds. Then the gym exploded in cheers, applause, whistles, the whole nine yards! We unclenched, held hands and, slowly pivoting, bowed to the four corners of the room. Then Ray took us home. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" he said, cheekily, as we exited the Limo. I looked at Nick. "Really?" He chuckled. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Taylor's uncle is well-known in the community." Community? What community?! There's a community!! At this point I couldn't tell you whether we danced up the stairs to my bedroom, Nick carried me up the stairs, or we just magically floated there. "Are we going to do this?" I asked. Now when he looked down at me he didn't have to look very far. I was 5'6 when we had first me eight months previously but now I was 5'10. "Is it what you want?" I squeezed him HARD. He gasped. That wouldn't have happened eight months previously either but I had put on 100 lbs. of solid muscle in the meantime. "Oh God YES!" I was ready to have at it right then but, as on the dance floor, he led the way. We kissed, slowly, thoroughly. He undressed me, slowly, thoroughly, teasingly, erotically. Then did the same for himself. By the time he was done my 9-inch boner was dripping pre like crazy and ready to explode at the slightest touch. I put my hand on his 12-inch ramrod. He groaned. "Who does what?" I asked. He arched an eyebrow. "My thought is: We both do EVERYTHING," he replied. "Then two-three-ten more times?" I asked. He nodded. "But have you…?" He shook his head. So did I. "But I've watched plenty of YouTube!" We both said it at the same time, then laughed. It was heaven. After we were spent, I asked him. "Why didn't we do this a long time ago?" He shrugged his Everest-sized shoulders. "I was waiting for you to figure it out." I punched his shoulder. I had punched my locker when it got stuck ("Worthless" Worthington strikes again!) and put a fist-sized dent in it. But Nick's delts at that point were about the size of my head. "Owee." He took my hand and massaged it. "I was waiting for YOU to figure it out," I replied. He stroked my cheek. "I think you would agree that at this point we have BOTH figured it out?" I nodded, then had a thought. "It's not just because I was a runt then and now I have muscles, is it?" He rolled his eyes. "You were just as hot then, Stud, as you are now," he pointed out, much to my surprise. "You just KNOW IT now." And maybe that was the difference. Not that it mattered. I was in bed with my man. And he was in bed with his. The Epilogue can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14719-my-bodyguard-epilogue/
My Bodyguard (Part 2)
arpeejay posted a topic in 2nd Annual Storiversary ArchiveBy Arpeejay Part 1 can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14716-my-bodyguard/ Part 2 Gee, that was a lot of back story, wasn't it? Just as well, though, since that first day together pretty much defined our sophomore year. Nick would come by in the morning, we would have lunch together, we would walk home together in the afternoon, followed by homework (at my place or his), an early supper (at my place or his), and then an hour at either the library (my place) or City Gym (his!) Nobody, and I mean nobody, gave me any trouble when Nick was around. When he wasn't around, there were two or three times in the first week or two when someone wanted to make a big deal about it, pushing me up against a locker, cornering me in the bathroom, knocking books out of my arms, usually to a taunting chorus of "Delios's Dweeb" or "Nick's Nookie." (Didn't I wish!) And then I would tell Nick about it and by the time we went home one or more guys were staggering around with black eyes, busted lips, and, a lot of times, wet crotches. Yes, he made them piss their pants! After THAT, the bullies tended to give me a wide berth. The jocks, on the other hand, most of whom weren't the bullies, stopped razzing me. If I was good enough for Nick, I was good enough for them. Likewise, the nerds – my clique of choice, even though I really didn't have much in common with them, other than good grades – fell for Nick pretty hard, especially when they discovered he had an EXTENSIVE comic book collection, with half a dozen vintage issues that caused their eyes to pop. It took all of an afternoon to get Nick comfortable with the public library. I showed him how it was laid out – fiction over here, young adult over there, non-fiction upstairs. Ditto, how the card catalog worked, how to find a book by an author, what it was like to browse. I even introduced him to Mrs. Pate, the afternoon reference librarian, quite possibly the most grandmotherly – and seriously professional – person I had ever met. As for his "reading below grade issues," I hit the nail on the head by introducing him to Jim Kjelgaard. No, not Worthington's Own Channel 47 Sportscaster! I mean the author, Jim Kjelgaard (1910-1949), the young adult author whose 1945 novel "Big Red," about a champion Irish Setter and the Quebecois boy who loves him, set the bar when it came to books about boys and their dogs! Nick, his brand new library card dwarfed and somewhat soaked by his sweaty palm, checked it out that first afternoon. And brought it back to me the next day. "More, please." I gaped. "You read it already?!" He nodded. "Have you read it?" he asked eagerly. I shook my head. "Well, no, not really, I'm more into SF / Fantasy, you know, but I've always heard…" Nick proceeded to tell me the plot, ALL of the plot, on our way to school. Well, take that back – he only made it about halfway through! He told me the REST of the plot on the way back. And over the Fall semester he proceeded to read every single Kjelgaard book in the Worthington Public Library, then got interested in SF / Fantasy when I pointed him to Andre Norton and Madeline L'Engle. By the middle of the semester he was reading at grade. By the end of the semester he was reading ABOVE grade. One day while Nick was perusing the Science Fiction section, the pile of hardbacks under his arm growing ever larger, Mrs. Pate pulled me aside. "This is for you," she said, handing me an autographed copy of Kim Stanley Robinson's newest book. "Mrs. Pate," I exclaimed, before she gave me that "quiet now!" look. "I can't take a gift from you. I should be bringing gifts TO YOU!" She snorted. "That young man of yours has turned into a champion reader," she said. "And it's all because of you! Warms the cockles of my old librarian heart! Think of this as a reward for 'Meritorious Service in the Cause of Readership,' OK?" I'm not sure who was more surprised, me or her, when I gave her a big hug! "Just don't tell him what it's about, OK?" she murmured. And I never did. As for me, well, who knew? I took to City Gym like a duck to water and thanks to Mrs. D's inability to take NO for an answer I started gaining weight. About the same time, my growth spurt, if that's what it was, finally kicked in. By the time Christmas break rolled around, I was up to 5'8, two inches taller than the day I had met Nick. And did I mention that I was gaining weight? Yeah. About that. I grew like a fucking weed! In four months I gained 40 lbs. of solid muscle. I was no longer a twig! I had a muscular 40-inch chest, a rock-solid 28-inch six-pack waist, and "decent" 15 inch arms. "Jeez, look at you," Ralphie said one day when we were in the locker room changing for gym. It's always been clear to me that the Locker Room Gods are actually minions of Hell because I had always wound up with a locker next to someone like Ralph Peters. "I guess the Big Guy has been feeding you good, huh?" he added. The leer was unmistakable in its meaning. Without thinking, I whirled, grabbed Ralph by his tee-shirt and slammed him into his open locker. "Listen, you fat fuck," I growled. "You can say whatever you want about ME but if I hear one nasty word from you about Nick Delios I'm going to beat the shit out of you." The naked fear in Ralph's eyes caused me to laugh. Surely he was kidding, right? I didn't just jack up my arch nemesis, did I, the one who still outweighed me by 20 lbs., even if it was 20 lbs. of blubber? "Whatever you say, Boss," he managed to splutter. "Nick's a good guy." I released his shirt. "Damn straight he is! See that you don't forget it!" I slapped the back of his head, slammed my locker shut, and headed out. At lunch, Nick kept looking at me. "Uh," he said finally. His vocabulary had grown by leaps and bounds but reticence was just part of his nature, what can I say? "Uh," I replied, waiting for him to get to the point. "Did you beat up Ralphie Peters in the locker room on my behalf?" GULP! I blushed, furiously. "Well…uh, well," I started. Talk about reticence. "We had words, that's all." He arched that stupid eyebrow again. "Oooookay," he replied. "Well, word on the street is that you slammed Ralph into the locker, slapped the back of his head, and told him to stop talking shit about ME or that you'd clean his clock." I licked my lips. I wasn't sure I liked where this was going. "And by word on the street, I mean that Ralphie told it Mark Connor who told it to Jack Gamble who told it to Theresa Fortney who told it to me…" I blew out the breath I'd been holding. "Well," I said brightly. "I guess it must be true, in that case!" He held up his big hubcap fist in front of my face. I looked at it. "Bump it, doofus," he said. I looked up at him. He had the biggest grin on his face. And bump it I did. Oh, yes, I was forgetting to mention the ironic part. The ironic part is that in the same time I had put on 40 lbs. of solid muscle, Nick, good as his word, had put on FIFTY pounds during the same time. That's right. By Christmas he was tipping the scales at 300 lbs. His chest was up to 60 inches, his arms were up to 25 inches, with a 34-inch waist and 32-inch quads. His strength was off the charts, too, which was good because the coaching staff at Worthington was really pissed off with him. Mrs. D wouldn't let him play football ("no concussions on my watch!"), he had no interest in making weight for wrestling, and the one time he tried rowing he swamped the shell. Which is why, in some degree of desperation, they started a weight-lifting team. Nick won every competition he entered and under his tutelage the big guys on the wrestling and football teams were getting significantly stronger, which made the coaches very happy indeed! So now you understand the irony of runty little Roger Jensen "defending the honor" of the biggest guy in school? Right? Right. "Does this mean I'm no longer your bodyguard?" he asked, looking somewhat forlorn. "And does that mean I'm no longer your tutor?" I snorted. "Get outta here, are you crazy?" I exclaimed. "Of course, you're my bodyguard! Of course, I'm your tutor. And, for that matter…" I stopped. He was looking at me with those soulful brown eyes from under those thick sexy eyebrows. "Yeah?" he asked, hunching his mountainous shoulders. I let out a breath, then leaned over and tousled his wavy brown hair. "You're not just my bodyguard," I said. "You're also my best friend. In fact, you're the best friend I've ever had." He grinned. "You know it's moochul, right?" You can take the boy out of New England, you can't take New England out of the boy. I leaned back and stretched, something I did a lot more now that I actually had a muscle or two to flex. "Yeah," I said. "I know. Or strongly suspected, anyway." This time I was the one who stuck my fist out. But he didn't bump it. He took it in his hand and held it for a minute, then squeezed it. "You're the best, Roger Jensen." I squeezed it back. "We'll see about that!" +++ Spring semester was the same as Fall semester only fewer sports and more activities. Like Valentine's Day. And Spring Break. And Prom. And growing. And growing. And growing. Valentine's Day was interesting, to say the least. For one thing, Nick bought ME a card! He handed it to me when he came to pick me up Valentine's morning. "Uh," he said, articulate as ever. "This is really a 'Thanks for being my best friend' card, you know, not any of that mushy stuff." I beamed. "Hey," I said. "I'll take all the loving I can get." He blushed. "And I have something for YOU, too, but you have to wait until this evening." His eyes widened. "Really?" It was my Grandma Jensen's famous Wauconda cake, named for the town in Illinois where she taught when my dad was in elementary school. Chocolate with chocolate fudge frosting. "Oh My God, this is so delicious," he said, having just finished off a third of the cake and washing it down with 20 ounces of whole milk. "You made it yourself?!" I nodded, pleased with his reaction. "I'm so glad you like it," I replied. "My Grandma Jensen's recipe!" Just then the door opened and Pop walked in. With Mrs. D.! They were dressed to the nines! Nick and I both stared! "What about Grandma Jensen?" Pop asked, then spotted the remains. "Wauconda cake!" Turning to Mrs. D, he proclaimed: "We can skip dessert at Gustave's, Deb. My mom's chocolate cake recipe is the world's best and Roger here is its greatest living interpreter!" Nick and I looked at them, looked at each other, looked at them again. "You're going somewhere?" "Gustave's?!" Deb, as per usual, rolled her eyes. "It's Valentine's Day, you think we're gonna Netflix and chill? Phooey on that." Then she turned and smooched Pop right on the mouth! "We'll be back late," Pop said. "Don't stay up. And DON'T polish off that cake!" When they had left, Nick and I just stared at each other. "Well," he said, finally. "That's interesting." I just shook my head. "How could we have NOT noticed?" He shrugged his mammoth, or more precisely, his MAMMOTH, shoulders. "I thought your dad was looking spiffer than usual," he said. "And Mom has been uncommonly cheerful, lately." I chewed my lip. "Are we OK with this?" He waffled his hand. "So long as he treats her right, I'm down with it." I sighed. "The problem in the past is that he usually goes overboard," I said. He leaned back and stretched. "We'll see," he said. "It doesn't matter. If it works great, if not, it won't make a difference for you and me. Will it?" I chuckled. "Not a chance, Big Man," I said. "Now let's go see that movie!" Part 3 can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14718-my-bodyguard-part-3/
goremeridian posted a topic in 2nd Annual Storiversary Archive(I just want to thank the MG forum for giving me the drive to start writing again. I've been in a bit of a tailspin for the last eight months or so, and I REALLY needed this. Enjoy...I hope!) Regrets Dylan hunched on his bed, cock twitching furiously in his tight black briefs. The wrinkled, sweat-drenched sheets were thrown back, exposing his lithe, faintly rippling tan torso to the silvery April moonlight. Exposing too his insatiable, slick hard-on, straining hungrily against his Calvin Kleins, sodden with load after load of his cum. He couldn't sleep. Not simply because of his horniness, though that was certainly a factor. It had been a week, after all, since he had last been fucked, and the hand working his 8-incher was no substitute for Sam's thigh-thick, veiny 16-incher slamming into his prostate and stretching him impossibly wide. His libido would not be satisfied with mere masturbation, no matter how violently he fapped. It was like the time he'd had a steak at Bavette's in Chicago. Dylan had known then that all other steaks afterwards would feel inferior. After feeling Sam's new, thick meat inside him, no orgasm would come close. Especially not a self-induced one. Not because of the heat, either. He was a sun-bunny; he'd practically grown up on Santa Monica Beach and even this hotter-than-usual climate didn't bother Dylan in the slightest. His modern house had an air-conditioning system that would have pleased even the most rampant thermophobe, but he rarely used it. For him, the heat was like a warm comfort blanket. Not because of the noise of the distant storm, either, booming faintly across the city, setting the big windows rattling, getting louder as the minutes passed. They hadn't had a storm here in LA in months, not a proper one anyway, and rather than being disturbed by the building rumble, Dylan felt a faint trickle of excitement running through his smoothly-muscled physique at the prospect. He put the strange irregularity of the storm's roars – a sudden succession of BOOMS, followed by a narrow stretch of silence before another BOOM split the sky, sounding like some kind of storm-giant's footsteps dragging through the distant moonlit city-sprawl – down to the sheer weirdness of the California climate. On the West Coast, particularly after a drawn-out, parched, tense season, they didn't have storms; they had STORMS. No, Sam couldn't sleep because – in addition to horniness, and heat, and excitement at the oncoming tempest – Sam was also feeling regret. And it went deeper than any of the other feelings. Bone-deep. Six months ago things had first come to a head. Sure, they hadn't exactly been going swimmingly before then, but that's when he and Sam had had their first argument. When Sam was only 314lbs. Dylan winced, as though the memory caused physical discomfort. Only. That stupid, stupid word. Absently, he started playing with his cock again. * "Three hundred and fourteen pounds!" Sam's handsome face sneered down at his little boyfriend. He was flexing his grotesquely swollen right bicep, the huge mound, silhouetted against the hot midday September sun beaming in through the window, clenching into peaked perfection with every squeeze. A pencil-thick vein pulsed magnificently across its surface, feeding the twitching, aching muscle fibres, straining the mountain of muscle bigger, bigger. Dylan's mouth was dry as he took in the sheer mass of his boyfriend. He had never seen him this pumped, this freaking HUGE. His tongue, eager to explore every crevice of his huge boyfriend's bloated, striated mass, TASTED Sam's testosterone in the air, and his tiny, tight buttocks spasmed in excitement. Sam smirked. The fact that Dylan was sitting down magnified the size difference between the two of them. He could barely make out his tiny, lithe boyfriend below his pecs, but just knowing that he was down there, just knowing that compared to his freakish mass, Dylan was a fucking HOBBIT, a puny little WIMP, triggered a moan of ecstasy that rumbled up through the bodybuilder's throat. He could feel his thick – fuck, his monster-thick – cock swelling in his too-tight gym shorts. The little fucker wanted him big? Well, he was that now and more. He groped his engorging member with the thick fingers of his free hand, marvelling – as he did more and more often of late – at the new girth of his endowment. So Dylan wanted him big, did he? Well, now he'd gotten his wish. And then some. Sam's groan of pleasure deepened, became more masculine, gravelly, as he fondled his monster cock. He was going to split the little size queen in fucking HALF! Dylan's hot apartment reeked of Sam's muscle and testosterone, as though reflecting the bodybuilder's excitement back at him. The smell had permeated the walls, the carpet – hell, Dylan knew even his clothes would smell of his boyfriend now, even after several washes. The bigger Sam got, the more smell he radiated, like some sort of divine aura of MAN and MUSCLE. And the little man LOVED it. "Weighed myself at the gym just now," Sam grunted. "Three hundred and fourteen. Nearly broke the fucking scale. That's finally bigger than Mr O, Dylan!" He brought both arms up into a double biceps pose. The peaks seemed to strain even bigger, even HUGER, even as the bars of thickening muscle rippled beneath the paper-thin skin of his wrists. Dylan loved his guns. This pose would set the little runt dripping cum, no doubt. "So what do you think of your stud boyfriend now, runt? This muscleman finally big enough for ya?" Dylan gazed up at his monster of a boyfriend. His nostrils quivered, taking big gulps of the huge stud's scent. Sam was swollen, bloated with mass, the striations of his freakishly large pecs practically bursting free from the too-tight muscle vest, his arms – no, he corrected, his CANNONS – looking hideously huge, the peaks rippling with steely sinew, like they were so massive they were going to split the skin, just as he had envisioned in his deepest fantasies. He would admit to himself, he had felt some modicum of guilt at putting his boyfriend through this, at driving Sam to become more and more musclebound, yet that smidgen of guilt was quickly swept away on a tide of lust. And yet… "It's amazing." He found himself stammering. "I mean, you look incredible Sam." The big man's grin widened at his words. "But…do you think you can get any bigger?" He asked. Sam's expression didn't fall straight away. It was as though the incredulity at his boyfriend's ungratefulness needed a few moments to take root. But it fell soon enough. "Bigger?" He lowered his arms, Californian sunbeams lancing suddenly into Dylan's wincing pupils. Sam said Bigger? but he may as well have said What the fuck?; his deep voice carried such pained disbelief. Dylan tossed his muscle magazine aside – he'd been sitting on the edge his bed gawping at the pictures of the muscular hulks flexing when Sam had burst eagerly through his front door – and quickly came to his feet. His eyes were at the same level as his boyfriend's Adam's apple. It looked bigger too, somehow. The little man's dick was rock hard with lust. What was he saying? His boyfriend had gotten huge for him, bigger than most other bodybuilders on the planet. Shouldn't he be satisfied? And yet he wasn't. He lifted his gaze. Sam's big, brown eyes wavered, somewhere between anger and pain. "I mean…you're only 314." Dylan heard the word only coming out of his mouth, the two syllables triggering a new frisson of guilt. He continued anyway: "But you could be so much bigger!" He reached out and grasped his boyfriend's tree-trunk arm reassuringly, the thick muscle slick with hot perspiration. "ONLY?" Sam snorted "ONLY?" He tensed his arm, splaying Dylan's fingers wide as they struggled to hold onto so much bloated mass. "I'm one of the biggest fuckers on the planet, and you say ONLY?" He grabbed his smaller boyfriend's shirt in a big paw, thickening arm muscles writhing and bloating obscenely, and threw him backwards onto the bed. Before Dylan could recover, Sam had torn off his muscle vest – the material barely registering to his superhuman muscle – and, tossing it aside, raised both arms into a double bi. "This is what you wanted, right? Extreme mass?" His biceps seemed to lurch even bigger as his anger fuelled his flexing. "I didn't even want this but you insisted." His voice was getting louder now. "I have killed myself…six hours a day in the gym for the last 4 months…" He slipped effortlessly into a lat spread, the monster muscles flowing like water and hardening into pale granite, his skin colour a testament to the hours spent heaving around iron in a dank, hardcore basement gym away from the sun. "I've taken all the fucking drugs you wanted, even fucking overdosing on those goddamn horse steroids, despite the fact my doctor warned me against taking even a tiny dose…" In a swift move the bodybuilder, muscles rippling hugely, tore his gym shorts and briefs off. His monstrous cock, veined and gloriously thick, swung free, and Dylan's nostrils were greeted with a new heady wave of testosterone. "I've even injected my fucking cock – MY FUCKING COCK – because you wanted me bigger everywhere." Dylan, still supine, head still reeling, could barely take his eyes off the pulsing monster as it thickened into its full, erect 11 inches. "You said you wanted me bigger than Mr O. Well I've done it – I've done it for YOU." Sam's voice was wavering, his anger splintering as his puppy dog personality – as his love for the little man – reasserted itself. Dylan sat up. Tears were beginning to form in the big man's eyes. He crawled across the bed and grasped Sam's cock with his right hand. It felt so thick between his small fingers, so musky-damp, so warm. He could feel his boyfriend's blood pulsing through the veins as he began slowly to work his hand back and forth. With his left hand he reached up to the bodybuilder's chest and began massaging his sweaty, glistening pecs. The hot Californian sun blazing through the window was nothing compared to the heat radiating from the bodybuilder's flexed, straining muscles, the thickening sinews rippling throughout his hyper-huge physique. "I DO appreciate it Sam." Because of the muscleman's anguish, his pecs were tensed tightly, and Dylan's fingers could only rub faintly against the striated surface, brushing the large, pink circle of his areola. "Every day I've seen you getting bigger and bigger…" He adjusted his arse as it spasmed once more. "I've felt you getting bigger and bigger. And I know it's all been for me. It's because you love me." Sam's pecs were slightly less flexed now. Dylan continued: "But I never said I only wanted you bigger than Mr Olympia." He squeezed Sam's left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "I want you SO much bigger, Sam. Much, much bigger. Would you…do that for me?" Sam's nipple hardened, even as his expression softened. "Even bigger?" His voice, capable of booming across a loud, clanking gym, barely came out as a croaked whisper. "I can't help it, big guy. I'm a macrophile. It's a sickness, you know that. It's what drew me to you that first day, in the gym. You were the biggest guy there. But…" He shrugged. "I just need you HUGER. Bigger than the guys in my magazine. Bigger than anyone." Dylan paused in his ministrations. "I've been researching. New drugs, new routines…experimental stuff…" "Don't stop," Sam grunted, and his little lover recommenced working his thick tool. A small part of him liked the idea of getting even bigger. Wasn't that why he'd taken up bodybuilding in the first place? But a larger part of him was afraid. He was already a freak. How could he live a normal life if he got even bigger? Then he glanced down at his little boyfriend, kneeling cutely on the edge of the bed, his little earnest gaze peering up at him, his diminutive fingers straining to wrap around his monster dick as it thickened between his tiny fingers. And he caught the magazine beside him. Morphed bodybuilders, total alpha freaks. His heavy balls pulled close, swollen with seed as the image of him being bigger – way bigger – than even the computer generated mass monsters in the magazine swam before him. He envisioned his tiny boyfriend's ecstatic face turning white with lust and awe when he flexed 30 inch biceps in front of his eyes. No, 40 inches. 50! Even BIGGER! With a grunt, he ejaculated. Hot, heavy squirt after hot heavy squirt of thick man-cream exploded from his swollen, sweaty godcock, coating Dylan's face even as the little man struggled to stem the flow by swallowing the tip. "Nggg, I'll do it," the freak groaned. Glugging down the last few drops, Dylan looked up eagerly past his boyfriend's bloated, swollen pecs, his fingers fondling the steel-hard nipple familiarly. "What?" He coughed, cutely, cum running down his chin. Sam smirked. "I said I'd get even bigger, if that's what you really want." He sighed around the smirk. "A LOT bigger." * That had been their first argument, but not their last. Sam buffed his pillow up, as though that would help him get to sleep, and flopped his aching head back down onto it. He knew, however, that his discomfort wasn't physical. Why couldn't he keep his cock out of it? This was the longest relationship he'd ever been in – and he'd certainly never met a man as willing to accommodate his desires like Sam – and yet he'd wrecked it completely, all because of his stupid obsession with monstrously huge men. Sam should have walked then. Dylan wouldn't have blamed him if he had. Four months of hell, he'd put himself through, all for his selfish little boyfriend. And how had Dylan rewarded his efforts, his pain, his sacrifice? By telling him he wasn't big enough. But the big man hadn't walked. Indeed, he'd become even more accommodating, even more determined to grow to a size that Dylan could finally be satisfied with. The storm sounded closer now. The slow, steady booms and thunderous roars reverberated across the city. Dylan had started to sense the faint tremble of an earthquake, too, as though the land were trying to copy the sky. He both felt and heard the BOOM of the angry, swirling heavens and the bones of the tectonic plates resounding together, grumbling through the sleeping silvery city, followed shortly by a second, closer, BOOM. A storm-giant's footsteps indeed. He'd been through LA earthquakes before, however, and wasn't worried. Even if storm and quake got much closer, it wasn't like he was going to get to sleep now anyhow, not the way he was feeling. Distantly, he heard the tintinnabulation of glass breaking in a moonlit street. Some shop owners hadn't quake-proofed their storefront windows, probably. Idiots. He thought about moving over to the window to see if he could make anything out, but he was too busy working his cock to get up now. Instead, his thoughts drifted to the last time he had seen his boyfriend. The last time he had felt that magnificent dick deep inside. One week ago. * Impaled. Dylan had heard the word before. But it was only when he was with Sam that he truly understood what it meant. "MFFFF," the hulking bodybuilder grunted, his hot breath, redolent with the faintly saccharine whiff of protein shakes, blasting into Dylan's face. "Just a few more inches to go, runt!" Dylan squirmed, eyes rolled back on his head in ecstasy, as his boyfriend's steel-hard thick 16 inch meat squelched and pulsed even deeper into his insides, rearranging his guts so that they could accommodate his monster endowment, stretching his sphincter wider than a man's arm. He could take it, though. It wasn't as though Sam had gotten this big overnight. For six months since the only 314lbs argument the huge bodybuilder had worked to better himself, to grow into the kind of man that Dylan fantasised about. As he had grown, so too had the godcock attached to his hulking, sweaty, swollen mountain of a body. And through their daily powerfucks, Dylan's ring had, by necessity, grown with it. Sam's strength had grown too. He claimed to have benched 8200lbs only that morning. That was nearly four tonnes of iron. And Dylan could believe it. The way the man effortlessly gripped him with one huge calloused paw while he began to move him up and down on his monster cock – pulling him all the way up until he felt the bulbous head stretching his sphincter, then SLAMMING him back down, pushing his fuck-tool to new depths, forcing his godcock to wreck more and more of his lover's insides while his skinny limbs spasmed, flailing uselessly about him – made it perfectly clear that to Sam, Dylan was nothing more than a fleshlight, and weighed about the same. Dylan wasn't the only one in ecstasy. While Sam regretted not having a mirror to watch his massive, grotesquely swollen form crushing his smaller lover while he pounded him to oblivion, he could see the effect his cartoonishly enlarged mass was having on Dylan. And it thrilled him. The poor little man could barely walk these days, and when he did it was only to totter over to greet Sam at the door when he returned from a gym session so he could throw himself at the bodybuilder's clenched brawn, tiny tongue out and eager to lap up the sweat glistening amid the striated, heaving Herculean freak-mass. Or to spear himself once more on the bodybuilder's steaming hot, veiny megacock as though trying to split himself in half. The little fucker was surely finally satisfied with his boyfriend's size – a fact that Sam was relieved and excited about. The last six months had been hell. Quitting his job to devote more than eleven hours a day to the gym. Overdosing on experimental steroids and cock-enhancing drugs Dylan had found on the Kazakh black market that made the crazy growth cocktail he'd taken in the first four months seem like aspirin. Heaving weights around that a year ago he wouldn't have dreamed he could lift – and wouldn't have dared to try for fear of tearing his goddamn arms off. Sweating blood, day in, day out. Not to mention enduring the steady rise of horror and disgust in people's eyes when they saw him – the local freak, a celebrity, a real-life fucking Incredible Hulk of god-mass crammed into too-small workout clothes. In the last twenty-six weeks he had become the biggest, most grotesquely musclebound bodybuilder in the world. 6 foot 8, 634lbs of man, with a 16 inch cock thicker than his own freakish, bunching Popeye forearms. He had effectively given up any chance of having a normal life ever again. But to satisfy little Dylan, to see the excited look on his face, like some eager puppy, whenever he returned from the gym, it was all worth it. He'd done it because, despite Dylan's selfishness and his obsession with macrophilia, he loved the little guy with all his heart, and couldn't imagine being with anyone else. Today was where the growth ended though. Finally. He'd still need to take the drugs and haul the iron to maintain his hypermuscled monster freak conditioning, but less often. He could finally – finally – reclaim some sort of sense of self. Maybe he could broach the subject he'd been meaning to ask for some time, seeing as they had been going out for nearly a year, now that they were in a good place. Or so he thought. "I've been looking online," Dylan moaned, drained of energy, as he snuggled beside his giant lover some time later. He was tentatively feeling around the hugely gaping hole of his raw arse with his little, twitching fingers, wondering absently whether it had been so stretched that it would never return to its original tightness. "Mmmmm?" Sam rumbled inquisitively. He was in a half-doze, exhausted from the killer gym session and the two hour fuck fest that had followed. His muscles ached pleasantly – except his four-tonne-lifting pecs, which throbbed painfully in every steel-hard striation every time he flexed – and the big man was on the cusp of drifting off. "Online?" Dylan wrapped both his arms around Sam's right bicep and gave the relaxed muscle a tender kiss. Even unflexed, the grotesque muscle was a sight to behold, and felt harder than diamond beneath his soft lips. Flexed, it was 72 inches, over twice as big as the medicine ball Dylan used for his workouts, when he could find the energy or the ability to move. "Yeah. There's this experimental treatment developed by some Crimean scientist, based on solar energy, bulls' semen, radiation…I think there's even some blue whale DNA in there somewhere; I didn't read the small-print. It's the effects that I was more interested in. It will make the muscle growth you've experienced so far pale in comparison." Had he been less weighed down with lassitude, Dylan would have noticed that his boyfriend had grown very, very still. "I've had some samples shipped to your apartment. Thirty crates. Even a few millilitres would kill a normal man. I thought you could start on a couple of hundred litres a day – don't worry, you'll put it all to good use, particularly with the new, even tougher weightlifting regime I've been putting together for you…" For a big man, Sam could sure move quickly. He heaved himself to his feet, big limb breaking effortlessly free from Dylan's grasp, towering over his tiny lover, freakish cock swinging and slapping madly about his bloated thighs. From this angle he couldn't see Dylan – or much of anything – below his monster 283-inch pecs as they twitched angrily into pallid twin landscapes of titanium brawn. He felt the muscles in his arms flex and twitch, pushing his limbs away from the rippling sinews of his lats as they strained freakishly beneath his pale, paper-thin skin. "You mean I'm not done GROWING?" He stammered. He had meant it more aggressively, but exhaustion and disbelief had worn his voice down. Dylan blinked, surprised. "Of course not. I mean, you're big…really big-" His 8-incher twitched in agreement. "But you're only 630lbs…" "634 this morning," Sam growled. He raised both arms into a double bicep – Dylan's favourite pose – and FLEXED his freakish arms, blotting out the goddamn spring sunlight and plunging his lover's small form into penumbra. "I am the BIGGEST BODYBUILDER ON THE PLANET, runt…BIGGER THAN THE FUCKING HULK." He didn't realise he was shouting now, his booming, manly voice spilling out of his throat, the delts framing his bull-neck swelling with inconceivable might and mass. "THAT'S WHAT THEY CALL ME, YOU KNOW – THE HULK." He grunted, squeezing MORE mass into his biceps, feeling the blood-engorged veins pulse maddeningly up and down his grotesque arms, feeding MORE blood, MORE testosterone, into the sinews, pumping them up BIGGER and BIGGER, past 76 inches now, so goddamn ANGRY that he just wanted the little shit cowering before him to pass out in fear and lust. Not that he could see the little man past the swollen god-mass of his rippling, striated pectoral muscles. If he could, he would have been greeted by the sight of Dylan fapping madly as he gazed up at him. Dylan loved it when Sam got aggressive like this. Loved it when he flexed, showed off his mass, the insane size difference between them, even as he hated himself, loathed himself, for putting Sam through this. "But…" He forced his regrets aside. "But think how amazing you'll look when you're even bigger! Won't you do it – for me? Because you…love me?" He started to come to his feet, but Sam's cock, swelling and bloating into a freakishly thick tube of veiny man-meat that could choke a fucking hippo, caught him on the side of his head with a glancing blow and sent him sprawling back onto the sheets. All about him the smell of Sam – the rich, godly musk of MUSCLE and MASS – seemed to thicken, become tangible. For a moment, Sam was quiet. Like he was mulling something over, like a great, ponderous thought was working its way through the bodybuilder's mind. The room was quiet, except for the steady pulse of the muscleman's heartbeat. For a moment, Dylan waited, trying to catch sight of his lover's face beyond the heaving mass of sinew that was his chest, to catch that thought in Sam's big, brown eyes, eyes that he knew would be wavering in surprise, in anguish, in pain. Then Sam nodded to himself, and, with a grunt that grumbled up from somewhere deep within his monstrous chest, broke the silence: "I have to go." It wasn't a shout, but it may as well have been. Dylan felt as though he had been punched in his stomach. Had he pushed Sam too far? Returning regret – and fear – began to curdle in his belly as the big bodybuilder slowly and determinedly turned away, his monstrous form seemingly even bigger than when they had fucked, as though reminding him of everything he was losing because of his stupid, sick macrophilia. By the time Dylan found his voice again, his freakishly huge boyfriend had gone. "What have I done?" He murmured weakly, crawling pathetically about on the wrinkled, sweat-soaked bedsheets, the pain of guilt worse than any anal discomfort he was suffering, far worse, far deeper. "What have I done?" * Six nights later, there he was still. Unable to sleep, unable to move, unable to think about anything other than muscle, cock, and regret. Hot wind howled about his house now, roaring against the rattling windows like a giant's breath. The earthquake-storm too had increased in power, in intensity. It sounded like the goddamn streets were buckling, cracking and splintering, tarmac snapping and buildings crumbling, streetlights and neon shopfront signs spluttering and dying. BOOM, it went, setting his house shaking, the deep noise of tectonic plates grating against each other synching orchestrally, majestically, with the roaring of the furious storm. Somewhere distant, a dog was barking madly, and car alarms were screaming in the night. A crack was running up one of his walls. This was a big one. Perhaps the biggest he'd ever experienced. BOOM, it went again, like the angry heartbeat of the world. Then – for a moment – it stopped. Dylan twitched, cock-gripping fingers slick with pre, and his breath caught in his throat. And suddenly the roof of his house exploded inwards. Brick-dust and plaster rained down into the bedroom. Gasping, Dylan squirmed in terror as debris bounced off his bed, pulling his legs up to his chest as though by making himself smaller he would avoid getting crushed. The last thing he expected to hear was his boyfriend's voice. Or to see the tip of his impossibly huge cock poking through the giant hole in the roof, glistening before him like the inviting mouth of some monstrous, purply cave, swirling with plaster dust and debris. The overwhelming smell of MAN and MUSCLE instantly caused Dylan to cum, violently – so violently, in fact, that he almost missed the words: "HEH, WHO'D HAVE THOUGHT YOUR LATEST LITTLE COCKTAIL OF DRUGS WOULD WORK THIS WELL, YA LITTLE MACROPHILE?" Dylan couldn't reply, so terrified and turned on was he. It wasn't an earthquake at all. Wasn't a storm. It was…his boyfriend? It was…Sam? Holy fuck. "MMMM? SO," The bodybuilder continued casually, his mountainous, flexing titanic bulk hunched over the tiny neighbourhood, his monstrous phallus twitching as he impaled his little lover's house still further, splintering the wooden floor of Dylan's bedroom beneath its impossible weight, smearing thick pre over the walls, the furniture, over the tiny shuddering figure huddled on his bed, and widening the creaking hole in the roof as the drainpipe-thick veins criss-crossing its surface began to fill with blood and his godcock began to swell in his excitement. After ten months and one week, he was starting to see the appeal in growing more and more massive. "YOU THINK I'M BIG ENOUGH NOW?" He chuckled, his hot breath blowing the roof tiles off a distant apartment. "CAUSE I'VE STILL GOT 29 CRATES TO GO…AND I THINK I'M JUST BEGINNING TO ENJOY MYSELF."
dominate Dominating the dragon pt 1 by weiss.sean
Welshy posted a topic in StoriesHey guys. A man by the instagram name of weiss.sean has been writing a story about me, check it out and check out his profile on insta, mine too mrwelshy We are not supposed to judge a person by the shoes worn. He has an innocent and sweet face, he is one of those people that you immediately trust once you look in the eyes but, what he can do with his body nobody else is capable of. He is a 25 Welsh guy. A guy that put his life into the discipline of Iron, a man that is sculpting his body to reach levels of perfection. A bodybuilder. His body is pure perfection, a sweet face set on a muscular and ripped body. Trained in MMA, BJJ and Kickboxing. What else could man of that age request for more? Why building a body with those masses and then training for fights? Welshy, his name. His innocent face does not match to whom he is in reality. He is so perfect in every way that he might be compared to a war machine. He is powerful, strong and agile at the same time. He could put any bodybuilder down in seconds and end their careers for good. Welshy's presence on the stage was well known as he was an amazing poser full of energy that could amaze an entire crowd even without music and his body was stunning. His most muscular hit pose was a feast for the eyes. One, two, three movement followed by a grunting "boom" to show such power. Anytime he hit an abdominal and tights he used to scream out a very loud "yeah". He was pure beauty, an intimidating element for his fellow competitors. He was cocky and arrogant, always keen to show off his body to the others and ready to mock all those bodybuilders that were not at his level. He of course won that competition but he couldn't imagine that he was about taste something completely new in his own career, "fall, dominance", he the one whom used to dominate men with his body.. A guy that could end up Branch Warren's life with a bearhug. Welshy, the guy able to put Conor McGregor to sleep with a punch but as said before, never judge a person by the shoes worn. Welshy will soon teach the quote "the bigger they are the harder they fall". Welshy was in the locker room and the only one person with him was "skinny" Denis as named by Welshy. Denis was not even close to half of Welshy's body structure. Denis was not ripped or as huge as Welshy. No comparison could have been even spoken. Huge Welshy started moving in circle around Denis, in his classic cocky way. He finally approached Denis and whispered in his ear "Look, a retirement would be mandatory if I were you, maybe try to be a personal trainer, you're not worth as bodybuilder, not at all", gently but arrogantly he slapped Denis's face. Suddenly Denis grabbed and squeezed Welshy's testicle, Denis "got Welshy by the balls" literally. The Welsh Dragon was in pain and doomed by Denis. The pain was unbearable. "Before, I rip them off, leave me alone" said Denis to Welshy. "OK, ok, I got it, sorry, sooooooooorry" screamed Welshy. Denis released the grip. Welshy was heavily breathing, holding the crotch for the pain, shocked eyes appeared in his face. Welshy was in pain but full of anger. Welshy threw a right punch to left Denis's chin with all the power he had in that moment. A punch of that power should have broken anyone's chin but Denis's head did not move of a single inch hence a smile appeared in his face. -You thought, you could hurt me, didn't you Welshy? Let me tell you a thing, I am going to break you, you'll be food for my dogs shortly, but first look at me- Welshy stepped back of few inches and in the meantime Denis's body started changing. His body chsnged, what Welshy described previously as a "skinny" body type turned into the most shredded body Welshy has ever seen in his life. That body was absolutely huge and demonly defined. Denis hit a double bicep, showing the Welsh Dragon his "improved " body, screaming a very loud "boom". -Try again Dragon if you dare!- Welshy blew another punch towards Denis's face but the other bodybuilder, faster, grabbed the Dragon by his throat and lifted him up off the ground. Welshy was trying to free himself from that grip, kicking against the mole, trying to catch a breath simultaneously with Denis's taunting. He has never experienced such strength in his entire career. "Welshy, you encountered the wrong person to play with. I'll show you what being strong really means then I will fuck you". The Dragon kept on try to get free and the air became gold, unreachable. Denis released the old making the victim slips into his arm in a bearhug. Denis held Welshy by the waist, with his arms wrapped as a python and started squeezing. Welshy realized how hard Denis's body was, metal around his waist. Denis's pecs were pressing against Welshy's abdomen and the Dragon could feel how rock hard those pecs were. Welshy suddenly had a semi erection thinking about his cocky sliding up and down between them. He came back immediately on earth when he felt the pain in his ribs and backbone. "You know I can squeeze the life out of you, don't you Welshy?" said Denis. "Please stooop, you, aaarrrghhh, you...killing me" moaned Welshy. "This is just the beginning, pain is what you need then you will worship me and afterwards, I'll literally fuck you up" replied Denis. Denis dropped Welshy onto the floor like a bag of potatoes. The Dragon was lying on the floor, in pain. Denis approached him and pulling his hair, brought his face to his muscle quads, forcing Welshy to lick them. Welshy was kicking and feeling the mole's body with his hands. He seemed like touching granite. Every inch was rock hard solid. Denis's quads were huge and ripped, strong and powerful, capable of squeezing a stone between them. Welshy was in full erection. Denis lifted him up from the floor pulling his hair and what Welshy was imagining when in the bearhug happened. Denis placed Welshy's cock in his hard rock pecs and started wanking Welshy with them. Welshy face was priceless. Welshy cock was moved up and down. "Let me see if you can resist without coming after 3 minutes" Denis asked Welshy.
Away Game: Chapter 2
spacevlad posted a topic in StoriesThis is the second and (as of now) final chapter of the story. In this chapter, Adam and Wyatt explore their feelings for each other. Lots of sex and growth ensues! "What are you doing?" Wyatt rumbled softly. Adam retracted his hands and then froze, holding his breath. "Were you touching me?" Wyatt asked. "It-it was an accident, I was just, uh shif ting around, and—" "Uh huh. Hmmm little buddy," Wyatt slurred and then reached over to Adam. "What are we gonna do with you, hmm?" the big man rumbled and then reached for Adam. Adam tried to back up but was already on the edge of the bed. Wyatt's huge arms wrapped Adam up like he was tackling him, and then the big lineman pulled Adam closer into a tight, warm, fleshy embrace. Wyatt squeezed Adam into a bear hug and pressed Adam's face against his chest. "Yeah come here little guy," Wyatt whispered. "Damn, you're so skinny," he said and humped his waist forward, rubbing the titanic bulge in his shorts against Adam's stiffy. "Yeah, I thought so," Wyatt hummed as he rubbed his bulge against Adam's. "You like big guys, don't you?" Wyatt asked as he squeezed Adam harder. "Y-yes," Adam grunted as the most beautiful man he'd ever seen ground his giant body against him. "I'm sorry, you're just so BIG and I, I, I just wanted to see what it felt like, and—" "Shhhhh, little guy, you're in luck. As it turns out, I love skinny little guys like you," Wyatt breathed as he moved his lips closer to Adam. Adam could taste the beer on Wyatt's lips as they kissed, their tongues wrestling, Wyatt's thicker lips and mouth dominating Adam's. They kissed for what seemed like forever to Adam until Wyatt pulled away. "How's that, little freshman?" Wyatt said with a grin. Adam was speechless and just sighed in relief and pleasure. Wyatt's huge left hand explored Adam's skinny frame, reaching lower, running over Adam's ribs and hips until he felt the meaty handfuls of his kicker's bubble butt. "Ohhhh fuck yeah," Wyatt rumbled as he felt Adam's perfect, round ass. His huge paw took handful and squeezed, his fingers sneaking into the crack of Adam's ass. Adam returned by rubbing his hands hungrily all over Wyatt's chest, shoulders, and arms, feeling every inch of bulky muscle packed on the college senior. Wyatt tensed and flexed his muscles to show the power he had over the diminutive kicker. "You like that? All that muscle? You wanna feel?" Wyatt rumbled as he shifted his weight and pinned Adam on his back. "You like all this size?" Wyatt said as he straddled Adam and flexed his big arms, 22" of thick power, exposed hairy pits radiating his jock BO stink into the room. "Oh fuck yeah, ever since the first day I saw you at practice I couldn't believe how big you were, fucking huge," Adam breathed as he reached up and rubbed Wyatt's huge belly, which was pressing down on him. "Aww yeah, the first time I saw you I knew I watched your skinny little ass, couldn't wait to stretch you out on my thick cock," Wyatt drawled as he pressed his hard bulging cock against Adam's shorts, knocking on the door to Adam's thigh hole. "Oh fuck, yeah, big man, do whatever you want to me, so much bigger and stronger than me, do it," Adam whispered and Wyatt growled in response. The big man stood up at the end of the bed, shucked his shorts, and then spat into the palm of his hand. He reached down and started stroking himself, his dick 8 inches long and nearly as thick, a huge red mushroom head slick and hard. His pecs and arms and traps tensed as he pumped his cock harder, his huge thighs fighting for space against his swelling balls. He was hairless, totally smooth and sweaty, slick and glistening in the moonlight filtering in through the blinds. Adam ripped the sheets and covers off the bed and got in position, stretching his flexible legs over his shoulders and spreading himself wide. "Aww fuck yeah Adam, such a furry hole, look at that, perfect fucking, ooooh yeah," Wyatt growled as he slipped a slick finger inside Adam and rubbed it around. "Gonna stretch you out SO good bro, you're gonna be feeling it for days, I promise. Most guys can't take my cock… can you?" Wyatt said as loosened up Adam while staring right into Adam's brown eyes. Adam just groaned and moaned louder, the big lineman's fingers already making him feel things I had never felt before. He looked up at the monster jock towered over him, thick muscles tensing, lineman gut jiggling slightly, swollen cock throbbing and leaking. "Yeah here it comes bud, get ready," Wyatt whispered as he got back onto the bed, the mattress shifting and groaning as his 360lb bulk straddled the little kicker and he pushed his cock relentlessly inside. Adam groaned and Wyatt clamped a huge hand down over Adam's mouth, silencing him. "Shhh bud we can't have the rest of the team hear us," Wyatt growled as he pushed his cock in even deeper. "Ohhhhh fuck yeah," Wyatt whispered as he pushed in all the way up his balls. Adam could feel the big tight balls pressing against his ass. He looked up at his enormous buddy with his mouth agape, then nodded for more. Wyatt slowly pulled his cock out right up to the ridge of his mushroom head and then slammed back in with a grunt, like he was slamming into someone on the football field. "Uuunnnnnggggg," Adam said as quietly as he could, still shocked that this was happening. The huge lineman grabbed Adam's ankles and held them in place as he thrust in and out of Adam. "Oh my god bud you got SUCH a tight hole for me to fuck, don't you," Wyatt rumbled as he set Adam's ankles on his shelf-like shoulders and pecs. "So fucking tight for my big thick dick, huh" Wyatt said as he increased the pace of his fucking. "Uhhnnnngggg yeah big guy, fuck me, fuck me Wyatt, holy shit, so big!" Adam said as Wyatt rode him, pounding in harder and harder, all 360lbs of his bulk crashing into him. "YEAH fucking right so huge, gonna grow more and more too huh, big fuckin' monster jock pounding you GOOD," Wyatt breathed as his lips and mouth tensed. He pounded away relentlessly, slamming his heavy bulk into Adam's tight hole, stretching it, ruining it, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Adam's entire body. Minutes went by with the only sound being Adam's muffled groans, Wyatt's determined growls, and college jock beef slamming together. Wyatt's eyes squinted together and he twitched. "Feels so good, big top pounding his little freshmen kicker, hell YES," Wyatt boomed and his face contorted in a tight expression as he exploded into Adam. Adam felt the heat of his lineman buddy filling him up, making him feel complete for the first time in his life, felt pressure surging inside. Wyatt groaned and grunted and pulled out, cum dribbling onto the sheets of the bed as he stood again at the end of the bed, his huge thick red cock bobbing and dripping onto the floor. "Your turn now, little guy," Wyatt rumbled and he climbed back on top of Adam, this time at a different angle. "What, what are you, whoooooooooaaaaaaaa," Adam breathed as Wyatt slurped up his rock-hard cock into his mouth. It did not take long for Adam to explode into Wyatt's mouth and for the hungry jock to slurp up every drop of Adam's seed. "Mmmm nothing like a midnight snack," Wyatt grinned as he scooted forward until he was laying next to Adam once again. "Come here, little guy, you're all mine now," Wyatt said as he wrapped his huge, strong arms around the kicker and pulled him in until he was spooning him. "Wyatt, that was amazing," Adam said as he felt the warm breath of the senior blowing against the back of his head. "Shhh little guy, just go to sleep now and let me wrap you up," Wyatt said as he squeezed Adam in his arms. "I got you now." Adam just smiled, euphoria still tingling up his spine and ass from being freshly fucked, and they both drifted off to sleep. -- Adam woke up still being gripped tightly by Wyatt's huge arms. Massive scarred-up forearms seemed to cover most of his torso, and Wyatt's beefy pecs pressed against Adam's back and neck uncomfortably. Adam shifted and wriggled a bit, trying to escape Wyatt's grip, but found that he couldn't. It was enough to rouse the sleeping giant though. "Hey there little guy, good morning," Wyatt purred, his deep voice sounding soft. "Well, that was fun last night huh?" he asked as he squeezed Adam from behind again. "Uh huh, it was… incredible!" Adam said and pushed himself against Wyatt harder, his ass pressed up against Wyatt's morning wood. Wyatt shifted away from Adam and reached his arms up to stretch. His huge body stretched longer than the length of the bed and his arms actually bumped against the headboard. Annoyed, Wyatt grunted and stood, looking a bit… different. "Whoa, what the… is the room smaller than I remembered?" Wyatt asked, reaching up to scratch his chest. Adam turned to look at the beefy lineman and his jaw drawed. Wyatt was noticeably bigger. Several inches taller and much more muscular, he looked more like a professional wrestler or strongman competitor than a chunky offensive lineman. He still had an ample belly and soft extra padding, but he looked harder, bulker, bulgier, more muscular everywhere. "W-Wyatt… you… are you bigger??" Adam asked in confusing as he scrambled out of bed to compare his own size to Wyatt. Wyatt waddled over to the bathroom, his heavy steps shaking the entire room, and looked in the mirror. Adam turned the light on, and Wyatt took a deep breath and drew himself up to his full height. "Well holy shit, I'm DEFINITELY bigger than last night! What the fuck," the big senior rumbled, his voice deeper too. "I look fuckin' AWESOME!" he said and he raised his right arm up to flex. His huge bicep exploded with thick, round muscle, a vein throbbing down the center of it. "How the fuck did this…happen!?" Adam stammered as he snuck around Wyatt—who had completely eclipsed Adam from the mirror—and started exploring every inch of beef on Wyatt's huge body. "I don't know, bud, but I feel amazing… I'm gotta be almost a foot taller than you and at least 100lbs bigger," Wyatt said as he flexed every way he knew… he tensed his traps, which merged with his bull neck, he brought his fists together and saw his pecs pulse with thick powerful muscle, he shook his thighs and watched the massive quads solidify into rock-hard beef as he flexed. Wyatt's huge cock throbbed and stiffened up fast, poking out into a raging boner as he watched himself flex and watched his little buddy worship his growing body. He turned to Adam, grabbed underneath the kicker's arms and lifted him up, and made out ferociously for over a minute. "Oh fuck yeah, this is bigger too!" Wyatt purred as he reached down to squeeze his cock after detaching from Adam and letting him down to the ground. "You wanna get down there and take care of that for me?" he growled. "Yes sir!" Adam dropped to his knees and opened wide, stuffing Wyatt's swelling cock into his mouth. Wyatt groaned and wrapped one enormous hand around Adam's skull, pushing his cock in deeper as he started thrusting rhythmically. Wyatt looked in the mirror, a skinny little twink on his knees choking on his massive cock, a gigantic football monster staring back at him, packed with more size and muscle than he ever let himself dream of having. He flexed his arm and tried kissing it, but there was too much trap and delt meat in the way for him to reach. He moaned and blew his load down Adam's throat. Adam sucked down all he could and then fell back onto his ass. He looked up at Wyatt towering over him, a huge muscular giant, his body swollen with muscle and fat, and he grinned. "Now it's my turn!" Adam huffed and he held his hands up for Wyatt. Wyatt reached down and effortlessly lifted the 150lb kicker into his arms and carried him over to the bed. "That's right little bud, I need more of that sweet cream of yours. This big boy is hungry!" Wyatt boomed and then threw Adam onto the bed from several feet away. Adam scrambled and fell on the bed and was quickly pinned down by Wyatt's huge bulk. The heavy lineman crushed him until 450+ pounds of muscular football jock, smearing post-cum all over Adam's chest and flat stomach. "You're so little, and I'm so BIG, damn we make a perfect pair, huh?" Wyatt rumbled as he grabbed Adam from underneath, pulled him up, and then slurped up the kicker's comparatively smaller cock. Adam lasted even less time than last night as he watched the giant football stud bob his head back and forth over as he sucked Adam's dick. How as this real? Adam wondered but ultimately couldn't think straight as the pleasure radiating through his body. He exploded into Wyatt's mouth after only a few seconds. Wyatt greedily slurped up every drop, sucking hard to make sure he didn't miss one, and then stood up. This time the results were more immediate. Wyatt felt a pleasing warmth radiating through his body, starting in his stomach and then pulsing out from there like a furnace. He grunted and groaned and he felt his muscles cramp and tense involuntarily. He winced, took a deep breath and stretched his arms up, and then let out a huge sigh. As he did, his entire body exploded with size. He surged up several inches, his body grew thicker and wider, his muscle ballooned harder and rounder. He took another deep breath, deeper this time, and then groaned, growing and growing right in front of Adam. Wyatt's arms bumped against the ceiling as he grew, past seven feet tall, the floor creaking under his exploding weight. "Holy shit, Adam, look at this!" Wyatt boomed as he exploded with more size, growing and growing into the biggest damn football player that's ever existed. He swelled up to strongman size, then powerlifter size, then BIGGER, his body bulging with hard muscle, his gut round and jiggly still but with turtleshell abs swelling underneath. His arms stuck out to his sides as his arms and lats fought for space, and his traps and shoulders blew up taller and wider. He adjusted as his weight as his thighs ballooned thicker, rubbing against each other awkwardly. His calves bulged with more size, absurdly huge and matched only by his huge feet. His cock throbbed hard again, over a foot long now and thick as a beer can. His piss slit flared angrily and the big mushroom head glistened red. Wyatt felt the surge of energy subside and brought his arms together in a most muscular pose for Adam, his massive chest bulging with muscle. "FUCK YEAH!" he roared. His whole body was slick with sweat, and he seemed to shine in the morning light. Wyatt went to the mirror and grunted and growled and laughed as he looked over the changes to his huge body. He looked over at the doorway to the toilet and laughed; there was no way he was fitting in there now. Adam appeared at his side, nestling in under his sweaty, rank armpit. The little guy only came up to Wyatt's nipples now, and his eyes were even with the top of Wyatt's huge round belly. "Well, little buddy, whatever's in your spunk has a pretty powerful effect on me, I'd say!" Wyatt rumbled as he pulled his little boyfriend next to him and squeezed him in a friendly headlock. "I sure am glad we got paired to room together!" Wyatt said. He shifted Adam around and reached under the kicker's arms and lifted him up; it was even easier now than just minutes before. He pulled him close and kissed Adam aggressively, pressing the little freshman's body against his gigantic one in a huge bear hug. After a minute, they finally detached, precum from Adam's leaking cock smeared against Wyatt's gut. "Me too, big guy… me too!" Adam said with a grin and they kept making out, their cocks throbbing against one another, ready for another round of growth.
Muscle Worshippers: Chapter 7 of 14
LJackson posted a topic in StoriesChapter 6 is here. 7 Stephan Friday, September 5th 'So,' Hakan said, as we closed up the cafe today, 'what was it with those guys?' 'What guys?' I kept my voice totally straight-bloke-ex-policeman level, squirting antibacterial spray over the kitchen worktop. Focusing on the polished granite, trying to make my face just as unreadable. 'Nice try, mate,' Hakan replied. 'That might have worked on the dope-smokers and speeding offences you used to haul in, back in the day, but you're in the company of a grandmaster now.' 'You mean Olly and his pal?' I said. 'The lad who came in on my recommendation?' 'Yeah,' said Hakan, flinging me an amused glance. 'Only a couple of lads,' I said, with a shrug. 'Gym buddies, I think.' 'Just buddies?' 'The Beas- I mean, the dark-haired guy. He's got a girlfriend.' I was buffing that surface to a shine it had never known before. 'I've seen them out together.' To put it mildly. 'And unless I read it wrong, Olly — the other guy — he wouldn't have minded a turn with her, as well.' 'Fit?' I froze. 'Who?' Hakan laughed. 'The girlfriend. Who d'you think!' I could barely remember her now. 'It was just the once, but — yeah, I should say so. Like a model.' 'Ah, I hate those fake looks,' said my boss, polishing with his tea-towel. 'Too much time in the gym, they come out looking like something made by Mattel.' I thought about Hakan's wife, the sexy Ayla I glimpsed at the interview, trying to gauge her place in this pronouncement. 'Well, I guess you're in the minority.' 'Well,' Hakan said, putting away the last pan, 'I guess I am.' He stood up and reached for the drinks cupboard. 'Brandy?' 'Love one,' I said, tugging off my apron. Hakan watched me with a snigger of amusement as he filled two tiny glasses. 'What?' 'Need to get you a bigger one of those, if you're sticking around,' he said. 'It was fine on my sister, but it looks like a napkin on the Jolly Green Giant.' 'Watch it,' I said, threatening to chuck it at his head. 'And yeah, I'm sticking around, if you say I am.' 'What I say, goes?' he said, handing over the glass. 'I wouldn't argue with a man like you, Hakan,' I said. 'You better not,' he said, with a slightly mad look. When he gave me a smile to show he wasn't kidding, he still looked sort of dangerous. Then he knocked back the Brandy with a gulp. 'So where'd you meet the man mountain, eh? In the police?' For a second I didn't know who he was talking about, was trying to think of some mutual acquaintance we might have. 'What, Olly? I don't really know him.' 'Hey! You know him well enough to recommend your fine new working establishment, and he seemed pleased to see you.' 'Funny, though,' I said. 'I don't think of him as big. Not like his friend.' 'There's not much to choose between them.' Hakan shook his head. 'I like to think I can handle myself, but with those guys? For once, I'd hold my tongue.' 'They certainly eat the same amount,' I said. 'How many pounds of beef was it?' 'I wouldn't know, you're his pal, weigh him!' laughed Hakan, refilling my glass without asking. The small kitchen was filled with the aroma of the booze, dark and sweet. I hadn't felt so relaxed in years. I don't know when I last laughed that way. I clinked my glass impulsively against his, feeling full of good wishes. 'Next time, though,' he said, suddenly looking vengeful, 'you can tell them not to wash down my cooking with their filthy protein shakes. Or I'll take them both on and use some of my kitchenware to make the point.' 'They must both be doing some extreme stuff in the gym to need all that fuel,' I said. The pair had arrived straight from their work-out, faces flushed, the Beast's arms and shoulders in his purple t-shirt looking jacked. Both of them slightly wild-eyed. 'You know what they say. You have to eat big to get big.' 'Exactly my issue. My cooking is not fuel for their body obsessions,' said Hakan seriously. 'It is about pleasure. Happiness. The stuff of life.' 'I still can't believe Olly's getting to be so strong,' I said, changing the subject. 'He must be working hard at it. When I met him, he couldn't have taken the lid off a jar of pickled onions without straining.' 'Goodness knows what he's hiding under that baggy sweat top he's rocking,' Hakan replied, 'but it wouldn't strain him to do anything, my friend. I shook hands with him, and those hands were big. He's a dangerous bloke. I bet the weed smokers didn't give him shit.' 'Oh, he's not in the force,' I said. 'He's a librarian.' 'Funny,' said Hakan. 'He is! He works up the street.' 'He looks like army material,' Hakan replied. 'Apart from that fluffy blonde hair.' 'Yeah, he's still fluffy,' I said, savouring my third Brandy. 'Hope he stays that way.' 'Hmm,' said Hakan, regarding me thoughtfully. 'He seemed to get a lot of attention from you, for a librarian you hardly know.' 'Maybe,' I said, trying to think fast, trying also not to lie. Hakan looked like the kind of alpha male who'd be seriously weird about working with a gay guy. I'd managed to keep things under wraps for a week together, even feigned interest when he pointed out his favourite female customers. 'I suppose it's because he's putting on muscle so fast. I worry that it's not healthy.' 'He looks in the peak of health.' 'He's just a gentle guy. Nicely brought up. Intelligent. Softly spoken.' I shrugged. 'I don't want him to lose that in his quest to get big. I wish he'd settle for being normal.' 'Neither of them are normal now. What does his fellow meathead do for a living?' 'Internet porn,' I said, and burst out laughing. Hakan didn't laugh. 'Really?' Suddenly I realised I was saying slightly more than I'd meant to. 'I — that is, no, of course not. I'm kidding.' I licked the Brandy off my lips. Hakan had one sleek, black eyebrow raised. 'So why say it?' I took a deep breath. 'It's just that I once saw him online. Not a porn site. It was a thing about, you know, keeping fit. Muscle building.' 'You were looking to get into that shit too?' 'Don't we all think that kind of thing, now and again?' 'I don't need to build nothing. I am built. I am splendid,' Hakan said, poker-faced. He spread his arms in a parody of Mr Universe posturing. 'Doof!' he grunted with each new pose. 'Boom!' He had the classic ex-military build, with a certain amount of bulk from years of dedication to the culinary arts. He wasn't ripped, cut, defined or sculpted but he was huge, hairy and powerful. I found myself licking my lips again, even though the guns show was meant for laughs. At least, I was sure it was for laughs. 'Doof! Boom! Doof! Perfect!' 'Yes, maybe you are. Us mere mortals need a bit of work. It's meant to be inspirational.' 'Okay,' said Hakan, scratching his stubble. 'Show me.' I swallowed. 'Uh, what do you...' 'Show me,' Hakan said, 'this website with Olly's buddy on it. I'm curious. My laptop's upstairs.' I followed him up the narrow little stairwell to his flat, eyes fixed on his delicious-looking arse in his jeans. How was I going to get through this, I wondered. He didn't seem to have guessed about my sexuality but this might be a test too far. Should I back out? I remembered how I'd been undressing him in my imagination during the interview. As we went up the corridor, peering into the bathroom, the tiny kitchen, I thought how I was beginning to go beyond the surface with him. Dangerous waters, but irresistible, especially when you're building up a wank fantasy. We stopped momentarily at the door of a bedroom. The interior was cluttered with books, papers, ring binders. 'Ayla,' said Hakan. 'My sister, remember?' 'Ah,' I said. 'I thought she...' But I left things there. I was too curious to back out now. Besides, Hakan himself had asked to see the website. There was nothing gay about it. The Beast was proof of that. Hakan's bedroom was ultra minimalist. It looked as clean as a monk's cell. The bed was low on the floor, laptop on one side, a glass mug freckled with coffee grounds on the other. Hakan patted my shoulder with one big paw. 'Close the door.' 'Oh?' I said, following orders. 'There's a smoke alarm in the hallway,' he replied, going to open the window. 'And I'll never hear the end of it from Ayla if she smells anything.' He was rolling a cigarette now. I realised how strongly the bright, clean room smelled of tobacco. Hakan had never shown any indication of smoking before. He kept it all up here. 'So show me this website.' I turned on his laptop and, without having to even think of it, tapped out the web address. We sat down on the bed and I set up the laptop on my knees. He lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply. 'I hope you can delete this off my internet history later,' he said. 'This machine is meant to be for my accounts.' 'I've done that enough times,' I told him, clicking through a couple of screens. 'Don't worry.' 'This doesn't seem to offer much in the way of routines, diet suggestions, that sort of thing,' Hakan said. 'Whoa, look at that dude. He's like the Hulk!' 'That's right,' I said. 'Some people take it way too far.' 'I reckon for some guys, there is no 'too far',' said my boss. 'It's like an addiction, isn't it? Just keep getting bigger and bigger and bigger.' 'That's right,' I said. 'I worry that could happen to Olly.' Although it would also be fucking hot if it did. He could afford to get — well, just a little more muscly... 'Is your friend on here?' asked Hakan, reaching over to my lap to scroll down, pressing the laptop onto my already hard dick. 'Mmm,' I grunted, 'I don't think so. I suppose it's only a matter of time.' I typed in that familiar profile name into the search box. 'Here's the thing you wanted to see.' 'Me?' Hakan chuckled, sucking on his cigarette, as the Beast's video loaded. 'This is your fantasy. I'm just interested in you, my friend.' He peered at the screen. 'Nice looking house.' 'I reckon it must be one of the big places in the village,' I said. 'The old Georgian buildings opposite the picture gallery. You can see all this lavish furniture and stuff from the street.' 'Ever see that, from the street?' Hakan said, digging his finger at the screen. The Beast was standing in front of the webcam in a white singlet and shiny black boxing shorts. He had a calm, noble expression on his face, one arm raised behind his head, revealing the width of his triceps and the span of his lats. The other arm slowly raised, revealing the planetary scale of his bicep. 'Hmm,' Hakan said. 'That is impressive.' 'He looks sort of like a Greek statue. Uh, don't you think...?' I stuttered. 'More like a Greek poser to me.' Hakan reached across me to drop his cigarette in his coffee cup. His elbow flattened me against the bed. I could smell the bitter cologne on his neck. Eyes still on the screen, he sat upright again. 'I don't need to go round with my shirt off to prove I'm a man. Look at me.' 'You've got testosterone coming out your, ahem, pores,' I said. 'Guys like me could do with a bit of muscle to help them along.' 'This is your ideal?' he said, rubbing his chin doubtfully. 'Yeah, I'd like to be built like that, I suppose,' I said. 'You're tall enough. You're intimidating. What are you compensating for?' and he snarled a laugh. I managed to laugh in reply. 'I don't have any worries on that score.' 'Yes, yes, they all say that,' he said, completely truthfully. 'Go on then.' 'What?' I wondered if he was asking me to leave. He was unzipping his jeans. 'Let's compare, man.' 'Uh, if it's all the same...' 'Hey,' he said, reaching into his jeans. 'Don't make me do this solo, man.' As I watched, he pulled his dick out of his fly and held it up between finger and thumb. My first thought was, Well, if you really want to know, Hakan, I am bigger than you. Then I thought, Uh-oh, but I've still got an hard-on... It was too late to split hairs about that kind of thing. 'Hey man,' he said, as I unbuttoned my fly and lifted out a stiff prick. 'I think you'll find that's cheating.' 'Sorry bro,' I said, waggling it proudly. 'That's how it comes.' 'Okay, hold it, I'll catch you up,' he said. 'Rewind that video.' With my free hand trembling, I slid the video tracker back to the start of the Beast's display. 'You like this stuff after all, mister?' Hakan spat on his fingers and slicked them around his dickhead and up and down the shaft. It was already semi-hard. I wondered what it would look like when he was at 'competition level'. 'Well, it's a new world to me, but I don't need much to get me in the mood, you know what I mean?' I knew. Delicately, I primped my stiffy with the tips of my fingers. I was getting into this idea of competition. My heart was beating fast. I didn't want to lose out on size-points to Hakan: though, I figured, this was a win-win situation. Onscreen the Beast was pulling his singlet over his head. 'Oh yeah,' said Hakan. 'Take it off for me. Dance for me, bitch.' The Beast refused to dance, but now he pulled a 'most muscular' that made his pecs stand out proud. 'Fuck,' said Hakan, pumping his fist. 'Capital titties, there.' 'Wouldn't mind sliding my dick in between those,' I said. 'Don't think mine would fit. Too wide,' said Hakan, holding his now hard cock up for my inspection. 'It's wide, alright,' I said, 'but still no match for mine.' 'Get lost,' said Hakan. 'Admit it.' 'Never.' The Beast onscreen was showing us the size of his back. 'Hate to be his girlfriend,' Hakan said. 'The weight of him on you. Imagine.' 'I am imagining,' I said, wanking my dick faster now. 'Little poof. I can't believe you persist in this crazy idea that you're the man than I am,' Hakan growled. 'Bring that over alongside mine.' I leant closer. He reached over to hold mine at an angle that suited him. Then he held mine in his fist, comparing the feel of the girth with his own, as if he were choosing avocados in the supermarket. Then he leant in closer and placed his hand over our dickheads to measure the comparative height. 'Oh, yeah,' I couldn't resist saying. 'Yeah,' he said. 'Mine is definitely larger.' 'What?' 'Much larger.' He cocked an eyebrow. 'You'll just have to deal, bro.' 'Let me try,' I said. I love the feel of a new man's dick. I love how the temperature, the shape, the contour, the hardness, the length of hair, the softness of the skin are never the same from one lovestick to the next. I pretended to making careful calculations, while all the time just enjoying the sensation of drawing his foreskin slowly, luxuriously back and forth. I spat in my palm and slicked his dick up wetter and wetter till I was moving almost frictionlessly. I looked at Hakan's face, which was etched with concentration. He caught my eye and set his jaw. 'Glad I hired you,' he said. 'Good to see you know what's what.' 'I wasn't expecting this.' 'No,' he said. 'Me neither. But I saw a different side of you with — what's his name?' 'Olly,' I said, still massaging his meat-rod. 'You couldn't stop staring at him,' he replied, closing his eyes as if going off into the reverie. 'You're his slave, man. You want him bad.' 'Maybe,' I said. 'I want a lot of guys. That's my trouble. I'm greedy.' 'Nothing wrong with a big appetite,' said my boss. 'Addiction's something else. Something crazy hot. This website makes total sense. You worship that guy's body.' 'Is that so wrong?' I said. He looked me in the eye. 'Not when it's about to make me cum, bro.' I could feel him fattening up in my hand, ready to blow. 'If you say so.' 'I do,' he said. 'Keep obsessing. He needs someone like you. It's the last piece of his puzzle. One day he'll realise it and — Holy fuck!' His hot fuck butter was spuming over my fist. 'And fuck, but I want to see what you both do when that happens.' I smeared his sticky white funk over my knob and wrapped his fingers around it. 'There's more to the story,' I said. 'So tell me,' he said, reaching up to pinch my right nipple. So he did. Well, he is my boss.
transformation The Lycanthrope Genome (Part 3 of ?)
ravenweremuscle posted a topic in StoriesThe first two parts are here: Part 1: Part 2: The Connections After a few minutes of trying to compose himself from what just happened, Roman quickly scoots over to an empty corner of the room where he can find something to shield him from the heavy breathing that is projecting from his husband Nathan. He can hear him snarling as the hulking beast attempts to stand up but crashes down into one of the chest of drawers in the room. He is obviously extremely disoriented. Roman covers his mouth so he doesn't let out any kind of noise. Before long, the furry wolfman jump up and goes through one of the hotel room windows as glass flies down to the ground beneath him from their thirteenth floor balcony. The Italian gets up to see that Nathan is now running down the highway as car alarms go off and people are screaming. He can hear this going on for a few minutes as he disappears into the distance. Roman goes to retrieve his cell phone again and calls someone else that he knows. "Come on…..come on…..pick up….." The phone rings several times before someone finally picks up the call. "Hello Roman, I assume that something has happened if you are calling me." The Italian sits on the hotel bed and wipes his forehead trying to calm himself down. "Umm of course, I think you know what has happened." The man on the other end sighs a few times before he speaks again. "Did your husband go through a change? Have you been hurt in any way?" "No I'm fine. He was completely out of his mind and jumped out of one of the windows here and went down the street. I have no idea where he went though. Please, I don't want him to die from all of this insanity. You promised me that he would be able to live with this." The man sighs again. "Okay, just tell me what room you are in so I can come over and we can talk a little more about this. I have people that are tracking him down as we speak. It turns out that he isn't the only wolf on the loose right now. There are others besides him. Just stay put." They both hang up and Roman spends another twenty minutes going over the situation in his mind. There is a knock on Roman's door. He gets up from the bed to go and open it after hesitating a bit. When he does, the man rushes in and walks over to the broken window. He then opens the balcony door to look over the side before going back into the room. "We need to leave now Roman. People are going to get curious if we stay here." He looks in the bathroom and sees the catastrophic mess in the shower. "WOW, and I thought Domino's change was extreme. This is really horrendous. I guess his body needs to adjust to its new host. *looks at Roman* Grab your stuff, we need to go now." As they both leave the room, there are hotel personnel and police officers coming around the corner. Both Roman and the other man manage to take cover just in time. They find a set of stairs that go down to the main floor and out into the parking area. The man points at a dark van and tells him to get in. The man starts up the van as Roman gets into the passenger seat and they slowly creep out of the parking lot. They start talking to each other again. "Okay, I think we should see which direction your husband might have went Roman. Who else knows about this anyway?" Roman pauses for a few moments before he admits that he called Domino's house. "You called Domino? What did you tell him?" "Well…..actually I spoke to some Spanish guy there. I think he might be his assistant, but I'm not sure." The man stops the van at an intersection and looks over at Roman. "You spoke to a Spanish man? Hmm…..that must be Carlos then. He was just changed him into a wolf himself at a meeting the other night. They must be fucking each other than if he answered the phone." Roman looks at him puzzled. "Do you think that Domino is attempting to create an army of werewolves in the city?" The man starts driving again. "I think maybe he thinks that he can change all of his male employees into werewolves. I know he specifically wants Bulgarian men at his company because they are born with an unusual gene that makes them very powerful when provoked. Not all of them though are able to do this. I should know because he has attempted to do this to me in the past." Roman makes a few 'hmm' sounds before he speaks again. "How close have you gotten to Domino?" The man smiles at him and winks. "I would say quite close. I have engaged the wolf in him many times and it has taken a liking to me. Of course I have pleasured it as well so I know that it won't kill me on purpose." "How do you not change when it scratches you? I know that can happen when you are having sex with it." "I am immune to the wolf curse. *shows his clan tattoo behind his ear* See that, I am part of a group that studies the behavior of lupines and how they can further their agenda. I am glad that you have elected to help me and my kind Roman." "Well, I just hope that I am making the right decision including Nathan in your studies as you call it. What is your name by the way? You never told me before." "You can call me Val if you want. Let's go and find your husband now before he decides to kill a whole bunch of people." The two men continue to follow the destruction that Nathan has left in his way before it finally stops at an old factory on the edge of city limits. They both slowly get out of the van and creep around to one of the garage doors there. They can see that it has been ripped open and peek inside. Valentin takes a few deep breathes and slowly moves through the opening. After a few seconds, he puts his arm out motioning for Roman to follow him inside. They can both hear several different types of grunting and gnashing noises coming from the center of the warehouse. They can see that there are four wolfmen feeding off of three victims they have killed together. This intrigues the Bulgarian greatly because he is wondering why they would not fight each other for what they would view as being an alpha. Roman and himself are trying to stay close to the back wall and not make too much noise as they navigate towards one of the abandoned offices that is near them. When Valentin tries to open one of the doors, the creaking sound it makes interrupts the eating of the pack and they turn around quickly with them still munching on their food. The Bulgarian immediately puts both of his hands over top of Roman's mouth since he can tell that the Italian is about to freak out and scream. One of the werewolves sniffs the air and is now walking towards them. It is quite obvious to Val that the wolfman recognizes Roman as its deep brown eyes fixate on him. Val grabs Roman and tosses him into the office doorway as the werewolf charges him. Roman scoots quickly underneath one of the computer desks in the room to hide. The other wolves are now jumping into the office and begin to search for the Italian as he squeezes himself in as far as he can. He closes his eyes when he feels one of them starting to breathe on him. The wolf reaches its huge heavily-muscled furry paw in towards him with its claws fully retracted. He covers his mouth hoping that he can somehow avoid being killed as the wolfman's huge claws start to slowly shred his shirt and pants as it attempts to pull him out from under the desk and into its body. It is obvious to Roman that it wants something other than to eat him. The wolf's cock is starting to emerge from its sheath as it starts to leak precum onto the floor. It reaches underneath his torso and rips the back of Roman's pants out and yanks his briefs off as well revealing his hairy bum. The wolf makes a few deep grunts as it grips the frightened Italian by his sides before flipping him over to try and penetrate him. It runs its thick tongue up and down his back before slowly sliding it into Roman's winking hole. Roman yelps feeling the thick mouth muscle massaging his anal cavity as he is lifted onto the desk so the horny animal can get a better grip on him. After a minute of this, the wolf starts to push its bloated rod inside him but before it can proceed further, it is hit by a long silver object which makes it let out a terrible squeal before it falls down onto the ground. Another werewolf attempts to jump over the one of the ground to attack someone, but ends up nearly in the same predicament as it also yells in pain before passing out onto the ground as well. A hand yanks Roman up off of the table and stands him up. It is Valentin who has somehow survived all of the carnage going on around them. He checks Roman's backside and checks to see if his skin has been pierced in any way by the wolfman and somehow it miraculously has not. He hugs the scared Italian as he scans the room to check where the other werewolves are moving around at. "That was too close Roman. *shows him a silver staff* There is a reason why I carry this. If it comes in contact with them, it makes them automatically react and causes them to revert back into their human forms. Unfortunately, I have to get pretty close to them to pierce their skin." There are lots of cracking and crunching sounds echoing throughout the room as Valentin turns to see that the werewolf that was trying to attack Roman is someone that he knows from Bulgaria. "I should have known…..Petr…..what are you doing here? If he is here, then that means that……" The other one that fell on top of Petr is someone else he recognizes. "Georgi? I knew this would happen. *sees the third man in the office* Now who the hell are you?" All three men are groaning as they start to come around from their wolfy hangovers. Roman is still in shock from the whole situation as he starts to stumble past Val and staggers out of the office. He turns to see that Nathan is trying to stand up after leaning up against the office wall. He was also knocked down onto the ground after his confrontation with Val. The man is dazed and confused as the Italian rushes over to him to help him up. He hugs the blood soaked stud as he kicks all of the furry debris and gore away from beneath his feet. Nathan hugs him tightly and softly whispers into his husband's ear before moving away from him again. "Why is this happening to me?" He looks down at his freshly formed skin and notices that he is naked. He groans a little as Roman starts to walk him towards one of the bathrooms that are located beside the office area. They enter as Nathan's husband leads him over to one of the sinks and turns it on. He lets it run for a few seconds before he starts to run water over top of his well-muscled partner's stained beard and starts cleaning it with his hands. Nathan looks into the mirror behind Roman and sees the torn fabric in the shape of a wolf's claw on his back and notices that his husband's hairy ass is completely exposed. He panics. "Oh my god no, did you get raped by one of us?" Roman shakes his head. "No, thank god that Valentin was here to stop the werewolf that was on top of me. He has some silver staff that he uses to protect himself with." "So that must be how I became human again. I sensed it deep down, but I couldn't stop the other me from attacking anyone." Roman manages to find a stack of paper towels in a dispenser and starts using them to clean off more of the blood on his husband's well-muscled neck and chest. He is surprised at just how thick Nathan's chest is. His pecs and nipples are much larger than they were the last time he saw him. After finally getting his chest clean, the Italian slowly starts to clean off his husband's lower half. He is surprised to see that even Nathan's cock and balls have blood on them. Just breathing on them makes them react as the bloody stud goes fully erect as his cock stands up into the air. His balls look to be quite full as well as their color changes to resemble two purple golf balls. He looks up at his husband who smiles down at him. "I am not going to help you with that right now Nathan. How could you be so turned on by all of this carnage?" Nathan shrugs his thick shoulders. "I don't really know Roman. I suddenly feel extremely horny and I can't seem to control it anymore. I guess you will have to help me with that as well." Nathan's husband coats a few towels with soap and uses them on his thick 9x6 inch rod before putting some clean water on top of it to clean off the rest of the blood. The well-muscled stud presses his huge quads and huge rod against his partner and rubs a few droplets of precum onto his sweaty cheek. He grunts a few times trying to communicate with Roman without saying a word. "You are not the same Nathan I once knew. I don't remember you ever being like this before the change. I will do this for you this one time, but I don't want to get any of your jizz on me because I don't know how toxic it is to me." Roman slowly starts jerking his husband making him buckle as a long strand of precum spills out of his engorged cockhead and dribbles to the ground each time he rolls his foreskin up towards his thick cockhead. His engorged balls tremble as he grunts deeply and grabs his husband's head making Roman a bit nervous. "Be careful Nathan, I don't know how strong you are now. You might accidentally hurt me." Sweat is now pouring profusely from Nathan's body as it starts to roll down his huge muscles and onto the ground joining his precum. He moans feeling his load building as his precum flows a bit thicker. His breathing intensifies as he feels the beast from within him starting to navigate to the surface again, but this time he is not concerned about changing. The bathroom door swings open as Valentin moves towards Nathan and shows him the silver staff he is holding. "Knock it off Nathan. I will stab you again with this. *sees how turned on he is* What are you doing Roman? If you keep doing that, he will tear you to pieces." Roman stops what he is doing and moves away from Nathan. The horny musclebeast is in no mood to stop feeling that way and attempts to finish what was started on his cock. The beast is trying to come out again as a few popping sounds are heard coming from Nathan's back as he grows furry again. Valentin wastes no time and stabs him with his staff which causes the wolfman to scream in agony as he falls to the ground with the Bulgarian sitting on top of him. His cock blasts a massive volcano of thick cum all over the bathroom as some of it hits Roman in the face. He quickly rubs it off and smears it onto the floor. "Shit…..shit…..shit…..damnit. Am I going to be okay? His cum is hitting me in the face." Valentin turns to look and yells, "Get out of the way Roman. Run into the stalls and close the door." As he does so, he can hear Nathan yelling and agonizing as his cock continues to blast cum into the air. After a few minutes, he finally stops moving and goes unconscious. He hears the staff hit the floor and it is thrown under a neighboring stall. Valentin gets up and runs over to where Roman is and knocks on the door. The Italian opens it as the Bulgarian throws a few paper towels into Roman and tells him to clean it off quickly. There are now two other guys in the bathroom wearing large bath towels around their waists. They both have similar features to Valentin. They help Roman up from the floor and escort him out and into the warehouse. They introduce themselves after helping Roman out of his cum soaked and torn shirt. "My name is Petr Brugunov and this is my assistant Georgi. We both work at Full Moon Pharmaceuticals in the research and development department." Petr pauses for a few moments and motions for Georgi to look Roman over. "Let him check to see if you need any medical attention while I have a little chat with Valentin." They both leave the bathroom to talk privately. "So, how did you turn me back into my human self, Валентин?" Valentin pauses for a few moments before he starts talking to Petr. "If I tell you Петр, then I will have to kill you instead of helping you." He winks at Petr, who winks back. Both Roman and Georgi walk out of the bathroom together. The Bulgarian walks over to his master and puts his arm around his huge hairy muscular waist. The other man that was involved in the carnage is sitting down in the office with his hands in his lap. He is also wearing a towel, but it fails to cover up his cock and ballsack as the whole package peeks out. Petr and Georgi walk over to the ripped-up garage door and look it over. Roman and Valentin go in to talk to the other man. The Bulgarian goes into interrogation mode. "Now that you are a little more coherent, I need you to tell me how you ended up here and who you are." The man isn't as broad as the others, but his muscularity is still quite impressive. He looks as if he just finished a cutting cycle as his entire body from head to toe is vascular. His arms look a bit overgrown for his frame, at least according to Roman as he can't take his eyes off of them. The man notices and slowly flexes them before he answers Valentin's question. "Well…..to tell you the truth, I don't remember. I signed up for a special lab study at Full Moon Pharmaceuticals, and they injected me with a few different serums. There were two other men that were having the same procedure done on them. After about ten minutes, I could feel something happening to me. It was as if I was being put to sleep because I could feel myself starting to drift away. The other men were freaking out like crazy. I think I even saw one of them die. It was bizarre. I remember feeling my body go numb and my skin burning. Ohh and my name is Gilbert Hadwin." Valentin turns to look at Roman. "Does this story sound a little familiar? When we spoke on the phone, you told me that Nathan went through a similar procedure. I believe that this was done by Domino's people." While they are talking, he can hear a helicopter in the background. Out of the corner of his eye, the Bulgarian notices Georgi escorting Nathan past the door opening to the office. He jumps up from his chair and rushes over to look and sees that Petr, Georgi, and Nathan are taking their towels off and jump through the ravaged garage door before hopping onto a helicopter that is waiting for them. It quickly takes off once they are all on it. "We have to go now Roman. Your husband has been taken from us again. We need to get moving if we are going to find him again. Gilbert you will have to come with us." After a few moments, Valentin and Roman help the man up and they quickly leave the office. The Bulgarian tells the Italian to take the man to the van while he goes to retrieve his staff. He meets up with them a minute later inside the van. Gilbert is sitting in the back of the vehicle and is looking around at all of the equipment that is set up and is confused by what he is seeing. "I feel like I have entered an alternate universe. Who are all of you?" Valentin and Roman look over at each other before turning to look back at him. The Bulgarian then says, "Actually this is the world we all live in. You are just becoming aware of it through a different lens. Some of us will live and some will die. Maybe you will be one of the lucky ones." The man looks at them both and shrugs his shoulders as he shuts the van door. They drive off down several streets following the path of the helicopter until it lands on top of a darkly lit skyscraper. The building is not marked with any kind of signage whatsoever. They pull in and Valentin and Roman jump out. The Bulgarian is holding his staff as he slides the van door open and tells Gilbert to stay put because this might be too dangerous for him. He agrees as they slide the door closed. Both men stare at each other one more time before saying a few more words to each other. "Val, what do they want with my husband? There has to be something you are not telling me." Valentin looks at him and shakes his head a few times. "You will find out soon enough Roman. I feel like this is about to come to a head." They both quickly find the front entrance and rush inside not knowing what they will find next. End of Part 3
Cambio de planes (cap1)
Thedemon1906 posted a topic in StoriesPrimera historia que posteo en español espero que la disfruten. Si quieren que la siga por favor muestren su apoyo Hace mucho tiempo que estoy enamorado de mi compañero de clase heterosexual, pero no fue hasta hace unos días que decidí tomar cartas en el asunto. Joaquín es de los deportistas del colegio, juega un juego famoso aca llamado Rugby. Muchos lo deben conocer por sus jugadores fornidos y masculinos y él no era la excepción. Aunque no tan grande como los de la televisión, Joaquin a sus dieciséis años ya medía un metro noventa y sus músculos empezaban a notarse. Tenía unos ojos negros impresionantes que combinaban con su pelo y el tono oscuro de su piel latina. Joaquín y yo nunca fuimos amigos cercanos, aunque algunas raras veces vino a mi casa. Pertenecemos a mundos diferentes, él era deportista y yo todo lo contrario. Aunque solo tenía quince mi cuerpo estaba fuera del promedio. Conocía que eran los bíceps y abdominales solo por verlos en otros hombres pero por mi parte nunca los tuve. Media un metro ochenta ,y aunque no era bajo, me mantenía en el promedio. Mi pelo era marrón y mis ojos verdes, pero lo que más destacaba de mi era mi casi inexistente pene de dos cm y mi culo mas que prominente, monstruoso. Fue hace unos días buscando por internet porno, una pagina de publicidad se me abrio. "Pócimas para el amor y la vida Avenida libertador 386" Fue en ese momento cuando decidí en ir a investigar. Un dia despues de clases me desvie un poco de mi ruta normal para ir a mi casa. Mientras caminaba recordé el incidente que había tenido devuelta hoy en el vestuario. Las risas de mis compañeros al ver mi paquete desnudo se había hecho costumbre, junto con los golpes y empujones que siempre lo acompañaban. Javier era el q mas me molestaba. De casi un metro noventa y ocho y un cuerpo bien tallado yo siempre era su presa. Todo se calmaba cuando llegaba Joaquín a separarnos. Cuando me conecte otra vez con la realidad me dí cuenta de que había llegado. El negocio en cuestión consiste en una puerta muy chiquita y cero ventanas. Empuje la puerta para encontrarme en una habitación circular con aspecto muy lúgubre. Estantes de lo que parecían ser líquidos de colores se encontraban a lo largo de las paredes. En el centro una mesa redonda se erguía y en la cima una bola de cristal con una campanita de hotel al lado. Toque la campana y me senté a esperar en uno de los cojines de la mesa. "Ya lo atiendo" gritó una señora que a juzgar por su voz cargaba muchos años de vida. Una puerta q se encontraba detrás mío se abrió y de ella salió una mujer de por lo menos ochenta años vestida con una túnica negra hasta el piso y unos collares con gemas que parecían antiquísimos. -¿Qué es lo q desea?- -Necesito una poción para volver gay a mi amigo heterosexual- -JAJAJAJAJAJAJA- Rió la vieja mujer - eso es lo que todos los homosexuales de tu edad quieren. Ven, toma, pon tu mano encima de ls esfera primero veamos tu destino- Hice lo q la mujer pidió incrédulo y por dentro de la espera un humo empezó a salir. Ahí es cuando lo vi todo. Yo era alto y estaba jugando al rugby con Joaquín. Mis músculos se notaban a través de mi uniforme transpirado. Era heterosexual y tenía una novia. Pero de repente pusieron la decisión de ser capitán del equipo entre Joaquín y yo. Joaquín sabia que yo ganaría entonces vino a la misma bruja que yo y le compró dos pócimas. Una para que yo y el resto de personas no se den cuenta de mi cambio y otra para volverme lo que soy un estúpido, débil y sumiso pasivo quien nadie recuerda quien era antes. Cerré mis ojos y los volvi a abrir, no creyéndome los flashes de memoria que recien habia experimentado. -¡El me lo robo todo solo por ser capitán!- grité mientras mi percepción de mi compañero cambiaba. Me sentía frustrado y dolido, especialmente defraudado. - Es verdad, pero estas en suerte querido porque con la poca plata que poseía tu Ex amigo no llegó a comprar el seguro. Por un módico precio te puedo vender la poción para convertirte en un viril activo y la pocion para convertirlo a el en un pasivo y si quieres tambien te regalo una para enamorarlo. La única que te saldría cara seria la que utilizarias para que nadie se de cuenta de los cambios.- Me quedé unos segundos absorbiendo toda la información y contesté. -Me llevo todas menos la del olvido, no la voy a necesitar- Una sonrisa se marcó en los labios de la mujer al entregarme las pocimas y la sonrisa suya se me contagió a mi. "Cambio de planes"
Supergod Part 3
BigBen posted a topic in StoriesThe next day at school it was gym class and Sammy and the rest of the class were changing into their speedos for swim class. Sammy and his nerd friends having small, skinny bodies whereas the jocks were tall, had six packs and pecs without looking like bodybuilders, flexing and showing off their muscles to each other. Dan hadnt shown up yet, probably too busy enjoying his new life as a Supergod, Sammy thought to himself. The rest of the class hasn't a clue, Sammy just couldn't wait for their reactions when Dan finally showed up to show off his new strength, powers and most of all, his body. As the class had made their way out to the pool the coach took attendance and noticed that Dan was missing. "Where's Dan? He ill or something?" "No I'm right here coach!" and with that the whole class turned around to see Dan walking out the walkway from the changing room, clad in nothing but a pair of tight crimson red posing trunks, his Herculean muscular quads bouncing as he strutted through to join the rest of the class, flexing his basketball size pecs and then his bowling ball size biceps as the rest of the class stared in awe, most trying to hide their erections. "What is the meaning of this, Dan?! That's not appropriate swimwear! Have you been taking steroids?!" The coach barked at Dan. Dan just turned and smirked back at the coach, striding toward him, imposing his mammoth figure over him as he looked down on the athletic swim coach who used to boss him around. "Hey you know what coach, I think it's about time you...cooled off" and then Dan took a deep breathe and blew out ice cold air all over the coach, essentially freezing him solid. "Whoa dude! You just froze the coach! What are you?" Said Chad, one of Dans jock buddies. "You are now looking at the new superman boys! Your new god!" Dan said, raising his arms with emphasis on the word god, then raising himself up in the air, showing off his ability of flight. "And now that I've given you a demonstration of what i can do boys, you can all spread the word throughout school. I'm bringing in a whole new world!! HA HA HA!" Dan boomed before he raised one arm up and kept his body straight in classic superman pose before he flew out the building making a giant hole in the ceiling. The class couldn't believe what they just saw, neither could Sammy. They quickly took the coach to the school nurse who hadn't a clue what to do with him and returned to the showers. Sammy however, was still too in awe of Dan and trying to contain his erection in his trunks, decided to wait behind to shower by himself, he could also feel something churning in his stomach and wondered if it could be from Dans cum he swallowed the night before. Haha imagine if I gained superpowers too, thought Sammy. As Sammy went into the showers after the rest of the class left, he stripped off his speedo letting his throbbing cock fall free and started lathering himself up under the shower, and started gently whacking himself off when one of the jocks, Brett walked in. "Hey little Sammy, guess you got all boned up over the new and improved Dan too, huh " Brett said as he walked in, pointing his pretty impressive cock straight at the startled Sammy who tried to cover himself up. "Brett what do you want? " "What do you think Sammy? I'm a testosterone fueled man and I need release, and your ass looks good enough for it" Brett said as he grabbed Sammy and forcibly kissed him, he then dragged Sammy across the room and sat on a bench, motioning for Sammy to hop on his cock. Sammy couldn't resist, he was so horny from the sight of Superdan he slid himself on Bretts cock beginning to moan as he continued to imagine Dan, but also imagining becoming a supergod himself as he began to moan some more. Brett was enjoying bouncing the nerd on his hard cock too, even though Brett considered himself straight he was still so hard from Dan and his display of strength and superpowers that even this nerds ass will do to satisfy as he started pumping harder and faster. Sammy was loving it and really getting into it, when suddenly he felt the churning in his stomach again as Brett pumped more and more before releasing a hot load into Sammy "ohhhh man!" They both said in unison as Sammy then released his own load on Brett too. But Sammys stomach still churned, and then began to hurt as Sammy quickly hopped off and collapsed on the floor as the pain worsened. "What the fuck? What's wrong? I wasn't that big was I? Haha" Brett said. The pain then suddenly stopped and Sammy stood up, but something was different. Like he had a realization, a newfound knowledge. The cum the nerd had swallowed from Dan the night before had a whole ton of potency krypton power in it and all it needed was a trigger, and the sexual energy and Bretts cum was just the trigger it needed to give Sammy the knowledge of this and what he suddenly was capable of! "HAHA no don't worry Brett! You weren't too big! Not at all! But don't worry...I soon will be....what did you call me before, Brett? Little Sammy? Well get ready to meet MASSIVE SAMMY!!! HAHAHA" And with that Sammy spread his legs a little and squatted a little, clenched his fists so hard and concentrated "GRRRRRR!!" , and concentrated "ARGGGGHHHHH" , and sure enough the potent Krypton energy inside him was released! And Sammy began to grow with extreme pleasure as he felt his back widen, his chest balloon out, his body gain mass all over! "HAHAHA! YESSSS! THINK I'M A NERD NOW BRETT? GET A LOAD OF THIS!" and Sammy concentrated more, and more and began to inch up and up and up, reaching 8 feet tall! His arms became the size bigger than any bodybuilders and his shoulders made him look like a tank! Sammy concentrated even more and a 6 pack ballooned out "hmmm a little more" and Sammy concentrated again forming a nice irresistible 8 pack! And finally concentrating some more, his limp cock became thicker and longer, and his cock hardened once again as Sammys eyes changed colour to a reddish hue and he grinned. A massive cocky grin as he looked down, and down at Brett before flexing a double bi. "WHAT DO YOU THINK OF LITTLE SAMMY NOW BRETT? " Brett was in shock again. First Dan, now Sammy as two massive super muscular freaks, he became instantly hard again as Sammy continued flexing before fishing out an XXL size bright red speedo from the lost and found and slipped it on before going back out to the pool and looking at the hole Dan made before "SUPERGOD HUH? HAHA! I'M COMING FOR YOU DAN!" Boomed Sammy as he squatted down flexing his legs, arm extended and jumped high then flew after Dan! "HAHA YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN FLY NOW DAN! I'LL SHOW YOU WHO THE TRUE SUPERGOD IS!" Sent from my Samsung device
Papa Bear
londonboy posted a topic in 1st Annual Storiversary Archive[Selfishly, this story has things I love - older men, romance, sex, and strength. I humbly submit it as my offering to this great event.] His big beefy calloused hand wrapped around the back of my head and pulled my face into his concrete-hard right pec. There was a loud smack as I hit his unyielding tight flesh. I couldn't have pulled my head away even if I had wanted to – he was just that strong. His fingers tightened on my skull and he rubbed my nose, lips, cheeks, and forehead back and forth across the wide expanse of his chest muscle. It seemed as big as a continent. I had become something akin to a washcloth in his hand. My crushed nose got some temporary relief as it slid down into the deep, seemingly unending crevice between his mammoth mounds of meat, but then he started flexing and squeezed the holy hell out of my face. I was suddenly shocked by how powerful pec muscle could be. Meanwhile, his other equally large, strong hand slid slowly down my back and found its way into my ass crack, easily parting cheeks and pressing dangerously against my tight hole. His first two fingers toyed with me as both hands moved slightly upward, making me go up on the tips of my toes. "Unhhhh . . . yeaaaaah," he said in a low deep growl-like whisper, clearly pleased by how my bubble butt clamped tight in response to his invasion. He stopped the advancement at my ass, pulling his hand away – obviously, that particular part of my body would be a special reward for a later time. I fell back down on the soles of my feet, no longer supported by his strong hands. The fingers at the back of my skull moved again, my face was pulled from its resting place between his tensed pecs and roughly dragged through the heavy salt-and-pepper fur covering his mammoth chest. I knew where I was headed before I even got there. The big muscular paw led my saliva-leaking mouth directly to his massive right nipple – jutting from his pec like a huge knob of granite flesh waiting to be adored. My lips instantly parted to accept the hard thing and I was surprised by its size. "Suck," he ordered, in that same sexy-as-fuck low voice that seemed to rumble loudly from his enormous chest. I marveled at how a man's voice could sound so powerful and full of testosterone. My mouth immediately became like a high-powered vacuum. I latched onto his hairy pec like I was in a contest to see who could leave the most nipple hickeys – even though I knew his skin was too hard for me to do any damage. The big man let out a deep animalistic growl that made it clear I was doing a good job. The grip on my head tightened even more and my face was compressed into his hard muscle so deeply it hurt. Evidently, my oral skills became too much for the big man, though, because he suddenly let his fingers grip my hair and he pulled my head backwards, forcing my face to turn up towards his. He brought his lips down to mine and immediately his mouth became a much more powerful vacuum than I ever could have dreamed of being. He sucked so hard I swear my feet came off the ground again. His tongue didn't just dominate my mouth – it ignored the fact that I was even there and had its way with me – jabbing deeply into my throat. I started to become alarmed that I would soon lose teeth, tonsils, or possibly my own tongue – his kiss was more like an ancient army with a battering ram. Still, it was thrilling beyond belief. Obviously, the massive man liked it too, because he pulled his face away from mine and again emitted a pleased low growl before slamming my face back into his pec, so I could return to pleasing his nipple. This was the third time in three weeks I had summoned the huge man known only as Papa Bear to my condominium. He was an expensive hustler, but his particular specialty was way beyond what my fantasies could ever have begun to conjure up. The three hundred and fifty pound muscled bear was somewhere around fifty-five to fifty-eight and had the kind of manly beard that would make any lumberjack jealous. A silver crew cut that seemed to emphasize his masculinity even more and a body that seemed like three huge power lifters molded together just added to the overall package. When you touched his muscles it felt like they were perpetually tensed – as if he was flexing for you all the time – but then you realized he was just hard as hell . . . everywhere. When I stood beside him it felt like I was a five year old hanging out with his monstrous father. He wasn't much into conversation, a definite plus, and – somehow – the guy instinctively always knew what I wanted . . . or needed. The first week I had told him I was in the mood for lots of sex, so he banged me hard numerous times in different spots around my home. I was in so many different positions that night I saw my place from angles I had never even imagined. We actually didn't make it to the bed in the master bedroom. I lost count of his orgasms somewhere around two o'clock when I was being pounded so hard on the dining room table my eyes were rolling back into my head. I did, however, remember groping his hard-as-stone guns through the entire evening – somehow their obvious strength and size anchoring me in reality. I swear the already massive things swelled even bigger during the sex that night. The next morning, as I lay nude and totally spent on the carpet in the middle of the living room and Papa Bear prepared to leave, he apologized for how sore I was going to feel for a few days. He also reminded me I had asked for lots of sex. I ended up calling in sick at work for two days - just because every muscle in my body was in agony and I found it very difficult to walk. It had been exactly the kind of evening I had wanted. When I called him the second time I swear I detected a pleased tone in his voice and I was impressed when he said he remembered exactly who I was and where I lived. Before we hung up he asked what I was looking for from the evening and I told him it had been a rough week and I was looking for some romance and cuddling. When I opened the door a few hours later I was greeted with a dozen red roses, a bottle of wine, and Papa Bear dressed in an insanely tight crisp white button-down shirt – opened more than half way down to show off his mega furry pecs. I was pretty sure my entire head could've disappeared between the man's mounds of muscled chest beef. When he bent his arms I swear you could hear the material in the sleeves screaming because it was stretched almost to the bursting point. One of the hottest things in the world, to me, is a guy wearing clothes and his muscles still being so defined that you can actually see veins and striations. I had a feeling if the senior muscle man had inhaled too deeply the poor shirt would have instantly been a pile of shredded rags on the floor. Once the flowers were arranged nicely in a vase and the wine had been poured, the big man picked me up in his arms as if he was just giving a shrug, motioned with his head for me to take the glasses, and then carried me to the large master bathroom. I could sense that my weight barely registered to his bulging guns. He held me with one arm as he started the water in the large Jacuzzi bathtub, and after checking to make sure the temperature of the water was just right, he set me down, kneeled, and began to lovingly undress me. He stroked my body as he undid buttons and zippers. Once I was standing there nude, he stood up – his full six foot four inches – and slowly took off his own clothes, making sure he tensed every bulging muscle as it was uncovered. He knew watching him undress would turn me on completely – and the skyrocketing rod at my crotch confirmed that assumption. To tease me, he flexed his gigantic arms when he was fully undressed, knowing the show would make my night. He, again, easily lifted me and then placed me in the tub – cupping warm water in his hands to let it cascade over my body to help me get used to the warmth. The temperature of the water, however, seemed to soar to boiling point as soon as he joined me in the tub. I was just as turned on by his soft caresses as I had been by his all-night power plowing the week before. Once he was nestled comfortably in the big bathtub, he pulled my smaller body onto his, his bulging chest becoming a pillow for my head. We sipped our wine in silence as he softly pinched my nips, fondled my balls, massaged my shoulders, arms, and legs, and kept my cock at full mast with loving thick-fingered strokes every few minutes. Even though his body felt harder than stone, it was so comfortable lying there – feeling my body go up and down as he inhaled and exhaled. I fell asleep resting on him and about an hour later I woke up to find myself in bed and him propped up on one big arm beside me – staring at and caressing me as I slept. He leaned his face down to mine and gave me a kiss on the lips. He then moved his mouth near my ear. "Would you like this big man to be inside you?" he asked in a soft sultry voice that was full of love, need, and extreme power. I simply nodded my head, too turned on to say a word. He reached over and pulled my body on top of his as he lay on his back. It was as if he were merely pulling up a light sheet. Resting on top of his mountainous torso was quickly becoming one of my most favorite things in he world. He then slid both hands down my sides and grabbed my hips. He easily lifted my body in the air, turned me upright, and then I felt his hardening cock slap against my ass with a loud thud. He lifted my body higher and then moved my ass so it hovered over his straight-as-an-arrow steel-like thick rod. He lowered me slowly – until the wide tip of his penis poked teasingly into my tight hole. I clenched my ass even more – determined to block his passage, with the intention of giving us both more pleasure. This made him smile and chuckle – me thinking I could prevent him from getting what he wanted. His grip at my hips tightened and he pulled my body downward – slowly and methodically. His cockhead easily pushed its way through my tight love hole and I threw my head back as I let out a defeated scream. Papa Bear had penetrated my inner sanctum with a mere tug of his mighty arms. The big man's cock was clearly as strong as the rest of him - because it didn't waiver at all during the invasion. The big man let me rest there – impaled by his big hard weapon – until the initial pain turned into something closer to tortured pleasure. He was only slightly inside me and, yet, it seemed like I was being plowed by the thick end of a baseball bat. His smile grew bigger and I quickly figured out that my tight hole was also giving him much pleasure. His cock was leaking so much pre-cum it was like an instant full tube of lube had been emptied for the plowing that was to come. I felt my chute slowly accepting Papa Bear's big hard tool and the huge man slowly pulled my happy body lower – making me moan loudly with pure joy. I was breathing heavily and pinching the shit out of his nipples by the time my butt cheeks felt the bristles of the thick fur around his balls. And then he was completely inside me and I rested securely on his crotch. Papa Bear released his grip at my hips and my body stayed in place – like the sheath of a sword. That's when the big body beneath me began to roll like giant gentle waves hitting the beach. The motion of his pulsing crotch gave me unfathomable feelings of ecstasy and I squeezed his nipples even harder. "You feel so fucking good," he said in a voice that seemed to soothe and empower at the same time. It was like the low strong hum of a powerful jet. Papa Bear finally melted into a rhythm that made it seem like we were on a waterbed enjoying the constant swishing back and forth of heavy liquid below. His strong broad body supported me easily and every time his hard tool thrust deeper into my body I would tug on his nipples to make him arch his back even more – sending his cock further into me. We had become one entity – a cycle of pleasure running through both of us, constantly exciting the other man to new levels. His pulsing cock caused me to tighten and push down heavily and that just made him want to shove in harder. I was so 'on fire' from his slippery cock moving in and out of my ass that I didn't even realize how close I was to ejaculation. Suddenly, my body tensed up all over and rockets of cum started shooting out of my hard as stone cock – held tightly in the grip of Papa Bear's right hand. Huge splotches of cum shot up past the big man's face – hitting the wooden headboard of the bed, like some orgasmic art project. I blasted off about twenty rounds and somewhere in the middle of my release the big man started spurting gobs of his manly juice into me. Watching me get off had been too much for Papa Bear – he responded with his own cannon shooting off a big load. With every super orgasmic release his crotch bucked upward, which only rammed his rod harder into me and sent me reeling even more. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the big man stopped spewing and when his breathing finally returned to normal he lifted my body off his tool. Papa Bear then, again, laid me on top of his big torso. His hand immediately returned to my ass and started caressing my cheeks – as if to tell me he was waiting for a chance to return. "Did Papa Bear help his boy forget about his ugly week for a little while," he asked softly – true concern clearly in his words. "Yes sir," I replied. "Good. You rest now, son. You deserve it. I'll be right here to comfort and protect you while you sleep," he added. "You don't even have to worry about work. We can talk about me going in with you one day and taking care of anyone that bothers you. I'll not wear a shirt and that'll intimidate the hell out of anyone that's a pain. How does that sound?" I didn't even respond because by that time I was fast asleep – surrounded by hard warm muscle and the comfort of his soothing voice. It hadn't been a difficult decision to call Papa Bear the first time. A friend of mine had given me a flyer for this dude that he said was the exact man I was looking for. I was impressed with the picture of the man's arm – I was gigantic and it didn't look morphed in any way. But it was the written invitation to have a true older alpha come take care of you that really intrigued me. God, I loved huge mature men. There's just something unbelievable about a white haired muscled monster that gets me going big time. I'm sure it has something to do with them being experienced – years meaning they have learned a lot about life, about themselves, and about pleasing others. I was a big sucker for white, fur-covered mountainous pecs, too. A generous dusting of hair surrounding plump nipples made my mouth water. A massive muscled grandpa-looking dude could be fodder for my jerk-off sessions for the rest of my life. The friend who gave me the flyer had heard me pour my heart out numerous times. He was the bartender at one of my favorite gay hangouts in the neighborhood, so he had learned a lot about what I liked and what I didn't. He also knew how often I fell for older men that just wanted a quickie – and usually ended up getting my heart broken. I trusted my friend to help me out, so it was easy to take the flyer. When I dialed the number on the advertisement, a deep alpha voice said, "You better like muscle and what it can do if you're calling this number. You're talking to Papa Bear." "Um . . . excuse me," I said, a little caught off guard by the answer. "The name's Papa Bear, kid. You want me to take care of you?" came the reply and the gruff voice thrilled me again. "Uh . . . um . . . yes . . . sir." I responded. "Oh good, I like polite boys," Papa Bear answered. "Text me the details – name, address, what you're looking for from my visit, and anything that might be off limits for you." "Um . . . off limits? Like what?" I replied, clearly inexperienced in this kind of business transaction. "Like, is it not okay to break furniture or be rough enough to cause bruises or make sure you share any particular fetish you may have," he replied – and the idea of him crushing furniture made me harder than I already was. "Got it, sport?" "Um . . . yes sir," I replied. "Try not to beat off too many times thinking about our upcoming meeting, kid, or staring at my big arm on that flyer," he said before hanging up. "I want you to be juiced to the max." Thankful for silence, because my cock needed time to back off from the edge, I immediately texted him the details, including how I hoped it could be Saturday night. I was a little surprised when I got an instant reply. The message only said, "I'll be pumped," and there was an icon of a flexed biceps. I stared at the screen for a while – unable to control the excitement that was gushing through my body – specifically returning to a part of me below the belt. I wanted to beat off to the flyer of Papa Bear's arm, but I could still hear his deep voice telling me not to. I knew I would have no concentration at work or home for the next four days. I also knew I'd clean my place better than it had ever been cleaned before. That had been how it all began and now we were in the middle of our second visit. I dreamed about Papa Bear the entire night after our romantic time in the tub and the slow, toe-curling sex in bed. When I woke up, I immediately sensed that the big man was not there. It was kind of like when you're sitting in traffic and a huge dump tuck beside you finally pulls away – you instinctively can feel the absence of something so gigantic. I started to get a little sad, thinking the older muscleman had left, but then I smelled freshly brewed coffee and what I'm sure was bacon and eggs. My morning wood stiffened even harder when I imagined Papa Bear working away in my kitchen. Then, as if on cue, the mountainous bulging man walked into the bedroom, wearing only the apron I had been gifted with at the end of a weeklong cooking class in Tuscany. When I wore it, the red and blue material almost covered my entire body – coming down below my knees and the opening at the neck hanging down below my chest. On Papa Bear, however, the apron didn't even cover his crotch and his chest was so big it made the top part of the material look like a small tight bib. The man's huge dong was hard and arched out like some kind of pornographic crane. Papa Bear smiled at me when he saw I was awake and he stood by the bed, reaching down to tug on my raging hard-on through the sheet. "Looks like we were both thinking about the other," he said and I simply nodded yes – enjoying his big paw roughly fondling me below. "I've got breakfast and coffee ready, but I was hoping you might want me to fill you in another way, first?" I didn't say a word. I merely reached out and started stroking his hard cock – marveling at the fact that my hand couldn't reach completely around it. Clearly, the man had not built his muscles to compensate for inadequacy in other areas of his body. I, again, didn't say a word – I just nodded my head and brought my mouth to the tip of his cock, kissing it lightly. In such a short time that I wouldn't be able to tell you how it happened, he had lifted my body off the bed, taken off the apron, sat down on the edge, and was lowering my ass toward the big penis tower between his legs. I bent my knees so I'd end up kneeling when he was completely inside of me. By now, I was used to the moment of impact from his unyielding power stick. The head of his dick felt like stainless steel or something even harder when it poked teasingly at my hole. I shocked the older muscleman a little when I suddenly jerked my body downward in his hands and forced the plump head inside of me with one quick pop. I shouted and he grunted in pleasure as soon as I forced the invasion. Papa Bear, however, took my lead and with his powerful arms he plunged my body down his long thick rod with one quick jerk. For a few seconds my mouth opened wide, but no sound came out. It took only a few more seconds for me to register the extreme pleasure of having him all the way inside of me and I began to moan happily as he rolled his hips on the bed and forced himself back and forth in my love canal. "You feel so good, babe," he said – and I swear it was one of the most loving things I had ever heard. "How 'bout being a good boy and sucking on these huge pecs while I rock your world." Most people would have considered those words cocky. Not me. I understood this man almost as much as I understood myself. He knew his words would please me – and they did. They pleased me very much. And pleasing him always made me happy. He also didn't need to ask me twice about his thick plugs. My mouth was on his right nipple in no time at all. A confident man knows what he wants and what he likes – and he's not ashamed to ask for it. Papa Bear loved having his nipples abused. I had learned that already in our few times together. I clearly got the balance of teeth and sucking just right because the big man's body uncontrollably responded to my work with shivers, goose bumps, and a racing heart that pounded loudly through the man's mega pecs. "Aw fuck, you've got a hot mouth, son," the big man said in between low, animal-like moans. Papa Bear also clearly had glutes of steel. His ass was pulsing up and down on the bed, with an added crunch from the man's cobblestoned abs, and that was creating a rhythm between our two bodies that quickly edged us both toward release. It felt like I was on the back of some giant horse that was galloping wildly. I continued to chow down on his nipples – moving from right to left as he held tightly to my hips, thrusting my body up and down on his cock even faster and harder than before. I was a guy that had had lots of sex before this man. That's not boasting, it's just a fact. But sex with Papa Bear wasn't even an action – it was more like something that just happened – like breathing or swallowing. We were natural together. It was a matching of giving and receiving that blended perfectly. My cock was tightly pressed between our bodies – rammed continuously against his hard stomach - and, like the night before, I was so excited by this man and his body I started cumming before I even realized I was near ejaculation. Suddenly, my cock was spewing hot milky jizz between our torsos. I continued to tug mercilessly at the man's thick, hard nubs and finally Papa Bear could take no more. It was probably a mixture of the abuse at his chest, the clenched ass around his thick tool, and my hands savagely kneading his hard massive guns that sent him over the top. Again, I was filled with the love juice of this muscled senior and it seemed like I was being injected with the nectar of the gods. I swear I could feel how his cum immediately energized and fed my body. It was like he was the conduit bringing some kind of life force to all of me. I received every drop he had to offer and never stopped sucking on his pecs. Soon, our heartbeats had settled into a normal rhythm and I pulled my face from his chest. We simply stared at each other for a few minutes. "You make me want to be big and strong," he said softly. "You already are big and strong," I replied. "Yes I am. You make me want to be bigger and stronger," he answered. "That turns me on like you wouldn't believe," I said, smiling at the big man in a way that made him smile, too. "Want some coffee? I made it strong . . . like me," he said, chuckling at his own joke. "That sounds great, but I don't want to separate from you, just yet," I replied. "You don't have to," he said and then stood up – easily taking my body with him. "You're so light it's like only having a sweater wrapped around my waist." To be carried – with a thick rod still plugging your hole and strong arms wrapped around your lower back – is one of the best feelings in the world. It means the man holding you is big . . . and strong . . . and in charge. There's something about a powerful air fucking that is simply amazing, but sometimes just to be carried or held can be so much more exciting. Papa Bear bounced my body up and down in his big hands a few times - just to emphasize how I weighed no more than a beach ball would to a normal man. I had the strong feeling he could have tossed me through the ceiling, but I knew he wouldn't. That wasn't the kind of guy he was. He loved his strength – and showing it off – but he wouldn't ever think of hurting me. Once we made it to the kitchen he placed me in a chair and then poured us both some coffee. He sat in the chair next to me – swinging his leg over the back of the thing in that macho alpha kind of way. A plate with breakfast food was placed in front of me. He then started eating, but flexed his free arm right beside me – the peak swelling to hugeness. I immediately knew it was for me to have something to grope while I ate. The man certainly knew how to please. I reached over and placed my small fragile-llooking hand on top of his monstrous biceps and then tried desperately to press the skin inward - even a little bit. This made Papa Bear grunt a small chuckle, as if he was saying 'no way, kid,' and he flexed the thing even harder. We ate our food in silence – my hand caressing his big gun the entire time. Every now and then I'd lean over to kiss the big mound of muscle and Papa Bear would lean in to do the same thing – our eyes meeting over the giant peak. It wasn't until that moment that it registered we were both sitting there totally nude – raging hard-ons poking upward in our laps and still sticky from my earlier explosion. My hand went back to the top of his bulging arm and tried desperately to grip the muscle – but to no avail. "Big enough for you, son?" Papa Bear asked. "Yes sir," I replied, "and then some." "I'm always forgetting how big they are and busting the seams of my sleeves. I probably ruin two shirts a week," the big man said as we both stared at the mammoth mound, which he was tensing upward and then relaxing. It was mesmerizing. "Most folks say biceps are the muscles that most exemplify strength. What do you think, boy?" "When they're as big as yours, sir, they certainly shout power – lots of power," I answered. "They used to be my favorite muscle on a huge man, but you've helped me see there are lots of other great muscles, as well." "Yeah, like what?" he asked. "Well, after your arms, it's kind of hard not to be immediately attracted to your tremendous chest, sir," I said. "It seems to go on forever. But then, you've also got some keg-sized muscled thighs, abs of steel, shoulders wider than most doors – oh, and forearms that would even make Popeye jealous. And then let's not forget your insanely thick and powerful calves – they turn me on a lot. So, I guess in answer to your question, I am attracted to all of your muscles. "That's a great answer, kid," he replied and leaned down to give me another kiss. "It's starting to feel like I finally found the real reason I'm so big. I got to get going, sport. Shall we clean up this kitchen?" "I'd rather you leave that for me to do and, instead, we take a quick shower together," I suggested. Before I could say another word I was back in his arms and we were headed back to the master bedroom. My supersized shower – with two powerful jet showerheads seemed small as soon as Papa Bear stepped inside. We spent the next fifteen minutes soaping up each other – his body taking a lot more time than mine because there was so much of him – and then we rinsed. He picked me up like a child after wrapping me in a towel and dried me off while I was held aloft in his arms. I watched him dry off, then dress, and finally we were standing at my front door. It was obvious neither of us wanted the time to end. He gave me a long kiss and then there was the exchange of a white envelope. I could have sworn he found this moment as awkward as I did, but I knew that wasn't possible. As soon as he was gone, my place felt empty – such a huge presence had disappeared. It was like knocking down a wall and then immediately missing it. That night I called him to set up another meeting – for the upcoming weekend. He picked up after the first ring. "I was hoping you'd call and yes I'm available for any time you say," was how he answered the phone. This thrilled me more than I could have imagined. It seemed like he was genuinely into me – and not just playing a part for the money. I had thought hard about this conversation since I knew he would ask me what I wanted from him at our next visit. And sure enough, after we had settled on the date and time, the big man asked his usual question. "What do you need from Papa Bear this week, boy?" he growled. "I would like you to be a dominant alpha, sir. If that would be okay with you," I said and I swear I could feel him smile. "Are you sure, bub? That's my favorite role to play. I can really get into the part," he said – and I could tell he was very excited about the possibility of being allowed to be free to be the huge alpha he was. "I'm sure, sir. I can handle it," I replied – and this seemed to please him very much. "Then listen very carefully, son," he began. "I want you to greet me at the door stark naked. No underwear, no socks, and not even a ball cap. I don't care if neighbors are walking by or if there's someone else at your door. I'll be there at eight. Remember, you better be nude. I want immediate easy access to all of you. I don't want to have to punish you right from the beginning. You understand your Papa Bear, son?" "Yes sir," I replied, my excitement clearly obvious in my answer. "That's a good boy. I'll see you Saturday at eight," he said and then hung up. A week can sometimes fly by or feel like an eternity. That particular week felt like ten years. I could think of nothing else other than groping Papa Bear's huge arms, sucking on his massive succulent chest, and feeling his strong body underneath me as I was filled with his loving tool. Twice, while sitting in important business meetings I had been asked a question and I said the word 'muscles' as my answer before I even realized what I was doing. Another thing that made the week drag was the fact that I didn't once let even a drop of my sweet juice ooze from my cock. I wanted to save it for Papa Bear. I wanted to explode so hard for him that night that it would be perfectly clear I had saved myself just for him. When it was finally Saturday, I did more chores than ever in my life, just to fill the day so I wouldn't beat off in anticipation of our meeting. An hour before the big man arrived I stripped to my birthday suit. I was so worried about disappointing the man that I walked around for sixty minutes completely naked. At ten minutes until eight I stood by my front door – like a puppy waiting for its master to return. The man's loud knock ten minutes later made me jump and my cock shoot hard at the same time. I opened the door quickly – ready to show my alpha what a good boy I was. It had not dawned on me that Papa Bear might have chosen to do the same thing he had requested of me. When I looked out, he stood there in all of his powerful glory – just as naked as I was. A raging hard-on poked upward from his crotch and I immediately realized he was just as excited to be there as I was. "Good boy," he bellowed in a low voice and I swear a big gob of pre-cum oozed from my cock in happy response to his pleased look. "I have a feeling some of your neighbors are busy beating off right now. I might have been too much for them." The man reached out, grabbed me under my arms, and then lifted me up to plant a big kiss on my face. As usual, it wasn't a pleasant caressing kiss – it was more like a cannon ball blasting through the side of a ship. I was held aloft like some kind of child's doll while the big man's tongue pillaged my mouth in a way that made it clear Papa Bear was in total alpha mode. He carried me a few steps into the place while using his foot to close the door behind him. He pulled his face from mine and tossed my body to the ground – fortunately I was able to stay standing. The big man's chest was heaving up and down – like some kind of massive battleship riding waves in the ocean. Again, it was clear that Papa Bear was just as excited as I was – and I briefly wondered if he had spent the entire week thinking about this moment, too. "Come here," he ordered, since his toss had sent me a few feet away. I walked up to him and he immediately raised his arms into a full-on, mountainous double biceps pose that made my knees immediately begin to wobble. I moaned out loud and this made he big man smile. He tensed his arms so hard that his face turned red and I swear his biceps seemed to swell higher than they ever had before. Papa Bea then let out a loud growl and threw his body into a frightening most-muscular pose. Every part of his body seemed to scream power as it exploded in supersize. If I hadn't been turned on so much I clearly would have been petrified. The man released the pose and then just stood there – bulging like some morphed version of a normal man. I suddenly got the feeling he was calming himself down. It dawned on me that the man clearly knew what he was capable of – how powerful he could be if he let himself go. This was his way of not losing control – containing the alpha beast within him so he didn't hurt something in my home or me. And that brings us right back to where this story began. Papa Bear's huge hand cupped the back of my head hard and then smashed my face into his massive pec. I sucked his hairy nip with all of my might – ignoring the pain his hard-as-stone flesh inflicted. I was in heaven, totally dominated by this older muscleman – used like a toy, yielding to his grip like a plaything abused by a toddler. Papa Bear was grunting and moaning in a way that only fueled me on. To know I was giving this man pleasure excited me so much. To know he controlled the situation completely only made it that much hotter. "More teeth," he ordered and I started roughly chomping down on the hard nub in my mouth. "Hell yeah, that feels real good. Don't be afraid to use your molars, boy." When you parachute from a plane there must be this point – soon after the initial moment of utter panic – when you simply give up all worry and completely give yourself over to the air around you. You submit to gravity and begin to enjoy the act of falling – the joy of being utterly free. Held tightly in the steel like grip of this elder powerful man gave me the same kind of feeling of freedom. I submitted myself completely to his lead – his control. Every molecule of my being seemed to be fully erect – totally tuned in – to his dominance. To be that free was a gift only a strong man could give. Of course, Papa Bear was aware of this fact, as well. It was clear he knew he had me in the palm of his hand – both literally and figuratively. He also didn't abuse his power. That was not his style. He simply accepted the situation, as the way things should be. He was bigger. He was stronger. He was older. He assumed his rightful place as mentor, master, and dominator merely because of these concrete facts. I was his Gumby doll to be folded and manipulated in any way he desired. I was lucky to be his toy. I was privileged in my submission and we both knew it. I was the one paying for his services, but I was the product being used and not the other way around. The strong hand gripped my hair again and jerked my head back – causing my teeth to pull his nip roughly at the same time. The hard thing popped from my mouth as Papa Bear brought his lips down again for another round of face sucking. His mouth suctioned onto mine like some kind of high-pressurized interlocking doors on the International Space Station. There are kisses you remember because they are warm, gentle, and incredibly romantic – and then there are kisses etched in your memory because they are so manly and rough that you feel your own testosterone level has increased considerably. Papa Bear didn't really kiss – it was more like his mouth ravaged your entire insides. His tongue dominated in the same way his powerful hands did – as if there was little awareness of the small being he plundered. It's not that he didn't care – you could feel his passion even in the dominance – it was just that you were unable to resist him in any way even if you had wanted to. By now, my stiff-as-a-board cock was leaking copious amounts of gooey homage to my muscle master. I couldn't have turned off that pre-cum faucet even if I had squeezed my dick with all my might. Papa Bear's other hand – the one not strongly interlocked in my hair – slid down to my ass and one of his thick fingers teasingly caused my pucker hole to clamp tightly shut when it, again, brushed roughly across it. My body was being stimulated simultaneously in so many areas that my eyes were beginning to roll back into my head. The big man was like an orgasmic lightning bolt shocking the hell out of my body every few seconds – causing me to jerk up on the balls of my feet in excitement. He again pulled his face from mine. "Gonna make you my boy-sicle on a thick stick," he said, gruffly. His long powerful forefinger forced its way into me and I let out a loud moan that filled the room – making it clear that the invasion had been satisfying. My poor clenched asshole had been defenseless against his penetration – again showing my weakness and his strength. Papa Bear's mouth clamped back down on mine, so his tongue could mirror the exploration his finger was doing below. I was now his finger puppet – controlled in every way. Submission isn't weakness – no matter what anyone says. It's a gift that you have to choose to give. There was no part of my body offering any resistance whatsoever at this point. I submitted my entire being to this elder muscle god – in hopes that he would give me pleasure beyond my wildest dreams. I didn't just let him have his way with me – I encouraged him to completely view me as his. My moans begged for it. My open mouth and open ass screamed for it. Every turned-on inch of my body gave permission for it. At this point we both knew he controlled my orgasm, too. I was his loaded gun and he could pull the trigger any time he wanted. His thick finger exploring my ass shaft or his tongue invading my throat could have easily sent me over the edge at any moment, but Papa Bear wasn't done playing. He wasn't through showing me how he could dominate me on so many levels. Suddenly, his finger retreated from my hole and I immediately missed its presence – its power. I could tell he was amused as soon as I let out a disappointed whimper. He liked making me need him so much. His mouth left mine and again I profoundly felt the absence. Luckily, his muscled body still pressed against me, so I continued to be consumed by his presence. "You're completely mine now, boy," he said, peering intensely into my eyes. "I own you." "Yes sir," I instinctively shot back – even though we both knew his words had been a statement and not a question. "I make your sun rise and your sun set," he added. "Yes sir," I answered – again, merely to show him my obedience. Papa Bear rolled his monstrous pecs up and down just to give me a thrill. I watched, mesmerized, as the hard muscled beef tensed upward and then tumbled back down like huge waves lapping onto a wide sandy beach. The big man clearly knew his pecs could cause a muscle trance in any man he cared to show off for. My mouth was open wide in awe as I saw the hard muscle tense and release – controlled completely by its master, just as I was. It was the kind of perky bulging chest all pro bodybuilders dreamed of having and it was covered in his delicious salt-and-pepper fur. The word 'seasoned' popped into my head as I stared at the bulging mass that had been shaped into perfection over many years in the gym. I thought about all the incredible poundage that had been lifted day after day to make this man's body pop out in such mouth-watering goodness. Every fiber of his frame seemed to be hard and massive, but then he'd tense different parts and they'd grow even bigger. The huge god raised his right biceps and flexed it hard near my face. "Taste the power, son," he said – again it sounded more like an order than a suggestion. If your lips have never kissed warm, hard-as-hell muscle before then there is no possible way to explain the experience. It's like trying to explain the ocean to someone who's never seen it – until they stand on the edge and see the incredible expanse, the majestic beauty of water going on and on, and hearing waves roll in they'll never fully understand. It's the same when your mouth touches the expanse and majestic beauty of an older man's huge rock-hard gun. It's when you finally do it, that it all makes sense. When my lips pressed into his manly tight skin it was like a million little pins suddenly poked every part of my body in unified excitement. There's something about a flexed biceps that reeks of power, masculinity, and pure beastly dominance. Both the worshipped and the worshipper feel this – it's where the huge bodybuilder and the smaller plaything meet completely on the same level – and experience the same unleashed enjoyment. The bigger man knows his gun is a giant magnet and the other guy gladly yields to the unbreakable force that pulls him into the muscle. Papa Bear's massive triceps looked like the hull of an ocean liner – hanging down all tensed and enormous. The blasting peak on top looked like a flesh covered mountain range. His upper arm was much bigger than my head. My face pressed against the hard skin and the only thing that filled my view was muscle. I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and began kissing and licking the marbled wall before me. I swear I could feel the testosterone oozing out of every pore of the huge man's body. It felt like my face was pressed against a bunch of bricks – or more like bricks covered in steel. If I could have bottled the man's aroma I would have called it 'Strength' because that's what he smelled like. Again, it was hard to explain, but you could sense the power of his arm and his entire body just by inhaling his sweetness deeply. He radiated confidence, security, and something akin to an unstoppable force. Papa Bear picked up on the fact that I was taking deep soothing breaths through my nose so I could savor his masculine scent. "Let's take you to smell central, boy," he said and I could tell by something in his voice that he was smiling. Again, a big paw grabbed the entire back of my head and, pushing my face harder into his skin, it slid me across the huge biceps and into his hairy, sweaty, muscled pit. The man clearly knew it was exactly what I would want. Even the bristles of hair in his arm cave seemed hard and powerful. I immediately took a deep breath and my body shook with excitement as I inhaled his powerful bear musk. It was the perfume of a Greek god – a mixture of sweat, muscle, manliness, and something that could only be described by the word 'security.' I could have stayed pressed into that man-cavity for the rest of my life. I let my tongue dart out many times just to lap up some of the delicious taste of pure masculinity. I was sure my own muscles would grow a tad bigger just from licking some of his testosterone-laden pits. I also had a feeling I'd be sprouting some thicker hair all over my body, as well. It was obvious that Papa Bear liked having his pits cleaned – he was grunting and moaning even louder than before. This only made me want to bury my face deeper into the pit. I started kissing, licking, and sucking his underarm like I was some kind of muscle pig. "Gotta fucking kiss you again, man," he grunted suddenly. It was as if Papa Bear could no longer restrain himself for some reason. He quit flexing his gun, pulled my face from his pit, and then grabbed me roughly by the ass and lifted me into the air. He slid his hands down my legs – encouraging me to wrap them around his waist. He latched onto my thighs tightly as he walked towards the wall. Once he had my back firmly against the solid plaster he let go of my legs. My body was held in place merely from the force of his powerful body pressing into me. It was difficult to breathe, but I didn't care. Being surrounded by all of his muscle was pure heaven. He brought his hands up to my cheeks and then pressed his lips against mine. I had thought he had kissed me roughly before, but all of that was child's play compared to this super hyped-up suction kiss. Immediately, it felt as if Papa Bear's tongue was going to push my head through the wall. Even this particular muscle in his mouth seemed to be super powerful. His hands squeezed my head tightly and his body pressed me against the wall even harder. Again, Papa Bear suddenly pulled his face from mine and spoke as if his life depended on his next move. "Gotta be inside you, son," he growled, and I swear I almost came. While keeping my body in place simply by pinning it between the wall and his huge chest, Papa Bear reached down and latched his big hands on both of my ass cheeks. He then started pulling them apart – opening me wide. Soon, I felt the stone-like tip of his thick long cock press into my hole. People often forget that a man's dick is a muscle, too. It needs to be worked out and trained just like a biceps or a quad. Papa Bear had clearly been pumping his tool for many, many years. It was powerful beyond words. The fat mushroom head felt like it could puncture steel. He pulled his chest back a little and let my entire weight fall down on the hard head. I sat there anticipating some kind of loud pop when he plunged into me, but Papa Bear had a different plan. He let my body sit on top of his hard tool for a while – teasing me and making my body ache for his manly invasion. It was only when I began to whimper like a begging puppy – in need of his plowing – that he finally acknowledged me. "You're mine now, son. You wanted to be dominated tonight – controlled – and now you've met your master. I'm gonna make your every thought and desire come true. I'm gonna make you wish I was inside of you twenty-four-seven." This was exactly what I had wanted when I called the man earlier that week. I had said I needed him to dominate me, but what I had really wanted was to give myself up to him in an orgasmic offering. I wanted to submit myself in a way that would please both of us beyond anything we'd ever experienced before. We were about to meld into one. Very soon I would be like one of his huge muscles hanging all over different parts of his body. It would register to him that I was another human – but I would be part of the big man – something wrapped around his cock to give him pleasure. I had no way of stopping what was coming – even if I had wanted to. I was his gift to open – his man to plow, as he wanted. I could feel every part of my being giving itself to him – my ass, my thoughts, my desires, and my love. I needed him inside me in the same way I needed air. It wasn't something I constantly thought about, but once I was awakened to the need it consumed me completely. It was clear that Papa Bear understood how I felt – and not just because he was being paid. He sensed my devotion – my total submission. I also got the feeling that he gave himself to me in the same way – becoming my protector, my rock, and my muscle guardian. Of course, my brain kept saying he's a paid hustler and he's just good at his job – don't think he's fallen for you. But my heart kept saying the man had desire for me that went way beyond just doing a good job. When his cock head burst through the gate of my love chute it was like the most dramatic part of some kind of celestial symphony or the highlight of a magnificent firework's extravaganza. We both moaned in unison and then I gasped out loudly as my body slid down his long thick tool. To be filled by a strong muscular man is such a reward – such a real-life fantasy coming true. But to be filled completely while being held in the air – strong arms holding you and huge legs supporting the weight, and a giant chest pressing into you – now, that is beyond heaven. Being connected to an older powerful muscle bear in such an intimate way could be fodder for all the jerk-off moments of the rest of an entire football team's lives. As wonderful as it was to be in this position there was also part of me that wished I could be across the room watching it. To see this big man impaling me while he easily held my body in the air would have been a picture I wanted in my mind forever. And then Papa Bear did a strong pelvic thrust that sent my body upward and I slid back down his tool with a big smack at the bottom. It was as if his crotch now controlled everything. The friction made in my ass from his move was almost too much to handle. I was afraid of spewing. It took all of my concentration to not unload my entire cum-bank in one huge explosion. The big man clearly sensed this and knew how to prevent it. "You cum when I say you can, son. And only then," he growled as he continued to bounce me up and down on his cock with successive thrusts. The man was powerful enough to easily lift me in the air and keep me there for a long time. I also had the feeling I hadn't begun to see the total strength in his body. But it was his intention – no, his complete acceptance that he could control my orgasm - that excited me beyond what I could have ever imagined. My body instantly obeyed his command. I immediately knew my jacked-beyond-belief cock would await his 'okay' before it exploded – no matter how close he edged me towards release. Papa Bear, of course, controlled the tsunami that was building within me. My release was his and only his to control. Every fiber of my being submitted itself to him. He realized this fact. He sensed how his words had made my cock obey – instantly. He let out a loud grunt – continued to thrust his crotch even more – and pulled my body away from the wall. He walked us both to the middle of the room – my body still impaled on his strong tool and still bouncing up and down in response to his powerful thrusts. Every time I came slamming down on his cock after his crotch jerks would send me upwards I'd moan loudly – uncontrollably egging him on. Papa Bear began to air fuck me even harder – grabbing me at the waist so he could enhance the bouncing of my body with his powerful arms. I would slam down on his tool even harder – giving him more pleasure than the time before. My clenched ass was basically his tool for getting off – as if it was just a coincidence I was a human being. The goal of the entire pounding process was to give himself the kind of release fit for a huge muscle god. I was his orgasmic plaything and the pleasure I was getting and would receive just happened to be a by-product of his own powerful titanic release. I had ceased to be the client – I was the means to an end, a very big, pleasurable end. Meanwhile, I just enjoyed the ride - groping his big hard arms as he easily manhandled my body up and down on his big tool. Seeing Papa Bear's body getting jacked even more as he pumped me up and down and in and out was like porn heaven. A light sheen of sweat now covered his entire bulging body – only enhancing the size of his rock-hard muscles. My giant elder dominator was now in his own world. He, of course, still knew I was there – still knew his job was to please me – but he also knew getting himself off was what I wanted most. My much-needed orgasm was important – but not nearly as important as seeing Papa Bear pump out a testosterone-laden eruption of his powerful juice. I wanted to be filled with his sweetness – and then I wanted to hear his command allowing me to cum. My body was now full of boiling man honey – fueled completely by Papa Bear's muscles and confident attitude. I was a dam ready to burst – begging to explode – and he was the superman capable of busting through. The bucking of the big man's hips increased to what seemed like super sonic speed. My ass was being pounded heavier than it had ever been before. I tightened my sphincter just to give him more pleasure. At the same time I continued to run my hands all over his tensed bulging biceps – his muscles causing me to get excited way beyond what I had ever imagined possible. I was bouncing up and down so hard I was afraid I was going to break something. The big man's moans were getting louder and louder and I could tell he was close to his titanic eruption. His body was tense all over and this caused giant veins to pop out everywhere. He looked like some Greek god pulling down the pillars of a huge temple. I could feel the intensity of my on orgasm building just from the way his body now looked. Suddenly, his moans stopped and his body tightened up even more. He slammed me down to the base of his cock and kept me there with a strong grip – and then he bellowed loudly. "Cum, boy!" Happier words had never reached my ears. My body obeyed its master immediately. A volcanic eruption shot forth from my cock – sending a huge blast of cum into the air, which then rained down and splattered against his huge pecs with a loud smack. As I continued to send out volley after volley of my warm seed, the big man's giant tool pulsed strongly in my ass and then spewed forth like some kind of untapped fire hydrant. I was instantly filled with a hot wet lava-like sensation. It definitely felt like some dam has been burst – wave after wave of his love juice shot into me with a fierceness that was unfathomable. The loud beast-like grunts that accompanied each thrust of his hard-as-hell cock added even more pleasure to the moment. Again, Papa Bear was lost in his orgasm. I was now only the little plaything that was getting him off. I'm sure it registered to the giant elder man that I was there, but it didn't matter – his body was so on fire with his ejaculation he pounded me like a heavyweight boxer taking out his frustrations on a punching bag. Each thrust of his crotch sent his massive rod deeper into my love canal and this caused me to cum even harder. The strong elder man started to walk around the room as his rod sent a few last missile spurts into my body. My own still-hard cock continued to gurgle out cum – even though I was sure my body had never been emptied the way it just had. "Fuck . . . I'm so jacked, boy! Take a look at all that power, babe," Papa Bear said, and I immediately knew he was staring at our reflection in the giant mirror on the far wall of my dining room, since he had stopped all movement. The first time you stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon you immediately understand your own insignificance in the scheme of the universe in a new way. At the same, time, however you realize you are part of the beauty of the cosmos, as well. Seeing my small frame being held in the gargantuan pumped-to-hell arms of this super Gramps caused the same exact reaction in me. I was being held by a force . . . a power . . . a beast so big it made me feel like a tiny insect. At the same time, however, the enormous man's strength empowered me in a way that was hard to describe. It was like his testosterone was infectious. Because his herculean body was so easily holding me, I felt safer, more secure, and more supported than ever before. Papa Bear was, indeed, 'jacked' beyond belief. I could see why the elder man had been so pleased. Muscles didn't just bulge out all over his body – they were more like some morphed-up 3-D version of the man being projected onto an immense IMAX screen. My entire upper torso was puny compared to his granite-like massive beach ball sized biceps. His gun looked like he had just finished some three-hour lifting session – focused only on his arms. For a second I actually thought the man's powerful biceps and triceps would make the Grand Canyon look lame. This senior man had held me aloft for so long I had forgotten that most people are not able to carry grown humans around for that amount of time. And there was no evidence of the man being even the least bit tired. I was still impaled by his stiff rod and it was obvious, from the pulsations below that Papa Bear was turned on by our reflection. He noticed that I was staring at the huge hard peak of his arm, so he let go of my ass with one hand – easily holding me in place with the other – and then balled up his fist, and flexed the biceps at his side. "I've always been big, boy," he said – in a low growl-like voice – like he was starting a fairy-tale story for a child. "My mom said she could feel me flexing in her womb. The doctor said I came out already chiseled like a tiny gymnast – a six-pack and bulging biceps. No one knew what made me so muscled – they said it must have been lucky genetics. The medical profession was a little taken aback by howmuch weight I gained those first few months and how I skipped the baby 'fat' period and went straight to being stacked. They said I used to crawl under my playpen and bench it up and down before I could even walk. My dad said I liked to crush and bend things before I could even sit up. He said he could tell that my unformed brain still understood that I needed to work out. At three years old I could whoop the asses of my two brothers – who were six and eight. They said I used to pick them up and toss them across the room and then stand over them flexing my body. I don't really remember that, but I do remember always being stronger than my friends and other kids in my grade. When I was six years old I could beat my dad at arm wrestling. At my elementary school there was this big burly janitor named Stefan, who noticed how big and strong I was and encouraged me to start lifting weights. He had a basic set of dumbbells and barbells at his office in the boiler room. I would go there every afternoon and he'd show me the correct way to lift for maximum growth and strength. He couldn't believe how quickly I caught on or how fast I grew. When I left for junior high he said I was stronger than most college dudes and I was already bulging through my clothes so much that many teachers thought I was wearing multiple layers. The day Principal Donovan told me to take off my sweatshirt because he thought I was wearing padding was the best. I slowly pulled the thing off and then bounced my beefy pecs a few times followed by a few flexes of my arms. Old man Donovan looked like he had seen a ghost. He turned red, moved his clipboard down to his crotch, and stammered as he told me to put my shirt back on. Is my little story making you happy boy?" "Yes sir. Very much, sir," I whispered back as I looked up to his bearded manly face. "Good, I like it when you're happy," he said, smiling down at me. "I bumped into Mr. Donovan about twenty years later at the supermarket. His open-mouthed stare and wide eyes made it clear he was shocked – and pleased – by how big I'd grown. He had to actually crane his neck back to look me in the face and I was about twice the size of him. We chatted for a while and one thing led to another. Soon, I was at his house - squeezing his face between my pecs, crushing his head between my biceps and forearm, and compressing all the air out of his body between my tree-trunk sized thighs. I'd never seen a guy so into being dominated – well, up until you. He'd beg me to shake hands with him and squeeze so tight that I worried I'd crush his bones. It was wild. He didn't want sex and I was shocked that he never spurted – not one time while I was there. But he told me when I was leaving he had never been with someone so huge and strong. He said it would be a night he would never forget and I have the feeling that old man Donovan still thinks about me and our time together and busts out huge wads that bring him close to blacking out. "I know the feeling," I said, smiling. "Yeah, you do," he said, still holding me in the air. "When I was nine there was this kid named Jared who got his mother to make us superhero costumes. He insisted I wear the Superman outfit and I don't even remember what character he was. It wasn't important to Jared, either; he just wanted me to dress up as Superman. He then insisted we wrestle, even though I outweighed him by over a hundred pounds. He was groping my muscles big time as we wrestled and I started to get my first major boner from showing off. At one point I had him pinned to his bed and he whispered in my ear, 'Lift me over your head.' My cock shot rock hard at the thought and a few seconds later I had his smaller body easily in the air – held aloft by my bulging arms as if he weighed nothing. I started walking around the room and as soon as we both got a look at ourselves in the mirror over his dresser we simultaneously shot through puberty. We both busted out our first boy wads – dumping major amounts of hot cum into our costumes. I couldn't believe how fucking huge and strong I looked holding him in the air. My arms didn't drop even a fraction of an inch as I spewed my torrential load. Jared's body continued to flop around in my strong hands long after my explosion had ended and that's the first time I realized my supersized muscles had a mysterious power over some fellas. At first, I worried about what my penis had just done, thinking I was sick or something, but then I remembered hearing some older boys talking about 'getting off' and I quickly figured out this is what they meant. On top of that, it felt so freaking awesome I knew it must be something good. We both spewed about four more times that night, from me curling him, doing push-ups with him on my back, and a lot more, but nothing got us both off as much as each time I lifted him over my head. Jared needed little time to refuel his body – especially when I would lift his body up and down, easily using him as my boy-bell. When his orgasm would finally end he'd look at my reflection in the mirror and say something like, 'Toss me on the bed, Superman.' It was such an incredible night. "I'd love to see you in a superhero costume sometime," I said, smiling. "We can make that happen, " he said, just as happy as I was at the idea. "High school was better than I ever could have imagined. I was the biggest guy on campus. Who knew so many horny athletes would dig my muscles so much. I lasted two weeks on the wrestling team, but Coach Williams told me I couldn't do it anymore after that because I was just too strong and too big. Nobody wanted to practice with me and he knew other schools would swear I was in my twenties. At first I was pretty upset, but then Coach told me I could use the Senior Gym any time I wanted. A freshman in the Senior Gym was unheard of and they didn't like it one bit - that is, until I came in, stripped down to my shorts and started lifting. I curled with one arm what the strongest guy could bench – so they immediately became submissive little gymbos trying to win my attention and affection. Ryan Smith, the captain of the football team, seemed to adore me the most. He constantly begged me to show off my strength – lifting benches loaded with ten guys, hoisting up the back of some car, and picking up his tight jock body with one hand and holding him overhead. That last feat used to please him the most. That's pretty much when I started learning exactly how to please fellas. Guys would invite me for sleepovers and insist we play gladiator or superheroes, just like Jared. They always wanted to be the bad guy and have me use my powers to subdue them. It's when I learned to role-play. Can't lie, son, I got off on it, too." "How could you not?" I replied. "Exactly. College is when I got into bodybuilding and dominated the amateur circuit in my state. It was fun for a while and I loved having auditoriums full of screaming fans, but there was something about one-on-one muscle worship that got my juices flowing more than anything else in the world. To have a smaller guy begging me to flex, needing me to show off, and wanting my muscles more than even air, itself, was like the biggest adrenaline rush I'd ever felt. Suddenly, I wasn't just building huge muscles for myself anymore, I was doing it to please guys that would never get the chance to know what being big felt like. I viewed it kind of like charity work – helping dudes live out their fantasies. That's also about the time I met Doc. I was about twenty-two and I literally bumped into this wall of muscle at the gym one day. When I glanced up from where I was knocked down on the ground I beheld a strapping white-haired behemoth. He smiled down at me, said 'sorry little fella,' held out his hand and told me everyone called him 'Doc.' My feet came off the floor when he pulled me upward and I had never felt a grip so tight – or seen paws so big. Doc reached around and squeezed the back of my neck hard and told me I was a cute little man. It was the wildest thing – every time he referred to me as small my cock pulsed harder than it already was and I felt giddy as a schoolgirl with a first crush. "How old was Doc?" I asked, and Papa Bear smiled, knowing older muscle men turned me on. "Older than I am now. He was probably sixty-seven or sixty-eight and built like a tank. He wasn't a pretty-man bodybuilder – no, he was a sexy-as-fuck powerlifter who was thicker than a building. I was bigger than most men, but he was a giant compared to me. I followed him around the gym like a puppy that day – hoping to learn anything I could, but secretly hoping I could win his favor or something more. It was the weirdest experience for me – to be on the other side of muscle adoration. Suddenly, I wasn't the alpha. I was the smaller guy begging for a show or some kind of attention. When he was finally done with his strong-as-fuck put-me-to-shame lifting he grabbed his bag and headed toward the door. He turned around near the exit, looked at me, and only said, 'Heel boy.' I was at his side in mere seconds and I never left it. Doc trained me for twenty years. He taught me things like how to make a man cum by lifting him with one hand around his neck and how to give a man maximum pleasure while fucking him in mid-air." "I've had first-hand experience of how well you learned that, sir," I quickly said. "Indeed you have," Papa Bear replied – smiling down at me. "What happened to Doc?" I asked – and I swear I saw Papa Bear's eyes mist up a little when he spoke. "The man was lifting until age 90. He was still huge and powerful. Five days after his ninetieth birthday he died of a massive heart attack. Your Papa Bear has never been so sad in all of his life, son. This is the man that molded me more than anyone else. He helped me to zoom beyond what I thought were growth and strength plateaus. He also taught me how to be as gentle as a kitten and how that can be as much of a turn-on as tremendous power. Doc always said his proudest day was when I finally lifted more weight than him. Granted, this wasn't until I was about thirty-four. The man just never seemed to stop growing or getting stronger. But the day I out lifted him he did something I never expected – he let me plow him. It was like finding the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow – the big man offering his ass to me. The man was so big and strong I was able to go wild and fuck him with all of my power – and that pleased him more than either of us expected. That night, while we lay in bed after having sex for the fourth time, he looked into my eyes and said, "You're the alpha now, kid. I'm still the boss – just because of my age – but you're the top man. I've plowed so many asses – including your own – it will be good to be submissive for a while. Who knows, maybe I'll get stronger than you again one day, but I doubt it. My kid's growing up to be a fucking beast and one day men will cream in their pants simply because you bent your arm in a tight t-shirt." "That, alone, can make me shoot," I said. "Son, you squirt when I only bounce my pecs once," he said teasingly, but we both knew he was right on the money. "Simply because of their size, sir" I replied and then asked, "Aren't you getting tired of holding me?" "Not at all, son," he answered. "As a matter of fact, I completely forgot about it." "Just how strong are you, Papa Bear?" I asked. "How strong do you want me to be?" he teasingly shot back. "The strongest," I quickly said. "Done," he replied and jiggled my body up and down in his hands as if to emphasize the point. "I need to tell you something, son. And it might make you a little mad, so I apologize in advance." "Okay . . ." I said, tentatively, not sure where the conversation was headed. "I'm not a real hustler," Papa Bear said. "What?" I asked, very confused. "About four weeks ago you were very drunk at The Eagle. Do you remember?" he asked, referring that favorite haunt of mine. "Yes," I replied, knowing exactly what night he was talking about. "You were at the bar pouring your heart out to Sam, the bartender – going on about how stressful work was and how you didn't have time for dating. You told Sam you wished you could just find someone you could pay to have sex with – someone huge and older. Those were your only conditions. Do you remember," Papa Bear asked. "I do," I again replied. I had been drowning my sorrows about another ended romance and how there didn't seem to be any true alphas in the world. "I had been watching you all night, kid, but you were too drunk to notice. When you left I asked Sam about you and he said you were one of the nicest guys around. He also said you made lousy choices when it came to men," the elder big man said, laughing. "That's last part is pretty accurate," I replied. "Well, two nights later I asked Sam, who happens to be a good friend, to slip you a fake flyer I had created the next time he saw you. I knew what you were looking for, so I put a picture of my biceps on the paper, along with the invitation to have a true alpha make all your dreams come true. A day later I was ecstatic when you called," he said. "I'm really sorry and I'd understand if you didn't want to see me again." "What?" I asked, honestly surprised by his words. "Why wouldn't I want to see you?" "Well I did lie to you," he answered, "and I kind of took advantage of the situation." "Yes, yes you did. However, it didn't feel like the sex or the conversations were ever a lie," I said. "No, all of that was real . . . and the best sex I've ever had," Papa Bear added. "Same for me," I answered back, "but I do have one important question." "What's that?" Papa Bear asked and I could tell he was nervous about what was going to come. "Where's my money? I paid you a lot of money for two visits," I said, smiling at him. "I put it in a safe place," he answered. "I was hoping we might use it one day for something fun . . . like a vacation." "Or maybe a honeymoon," I replied and the smile on big Papa Bear's face was priceless. In response he bounced his monstrous pecs and squeezed my ass tightly.
The Muscle Institute Case B: Making Up For Lost Time (Darkori Brothers)
ravenweremuscle posted a topic in StoriesYou can check out the previous case here: Case A, Part 1: Case A, Part 2: Case B: "Can we please move this along a little bit faster; I have places I need to get to." "Dude, you have to wait just like everyone else does, alright?" The extremely muscular receptionist at the front desk, Armand, has been listening to this 41-year-old overweight man for several minutes now as he continues to complain about the waiting time. "Dr. Darkori will be out soon, he has a huge backlog of people he needs to see. He sometimes has to spend more time with some clients because of their complex issues." The side door leading into the exam rooms opens as two very well-muscled men emerge holding hands. One of them appears to be sporting a giant volleyball in their stomach as well. The other one hands Armand a clipboard as they wave goodbye to him and head out the front door. He smiles and waves back at them as he asks the overweight man what his name is. "Alright dude, you are probably next. What is your name again?" "Henry Davis. I was referred to Dr. Darkori by Dr. Aberdeen about a fertility problem I am having." Armand shakes his head yes. "Yeah I talked to Aberdeen the other day. He said he was sending someone here that had an issue with their penis. The doctor will be out shortly to meet with you. I do have a warning for you though. He looks a bit different than everyone else you might see." Henry looks at him puzzled. "What do you mean 'different'?" Armand chuckles a few times. "Oh you will see what I am talking about when he comes out here." After a couple of minutes, a red-skinned man in a white lab coat walks out and leans on the receptionist's desk. Armand hands him a clipboard and he skims it over quickly. "Whew, this has been a busy day so far Armand. *looks over the file* Mr. Davis is it? Follow me then and we will have a consultation." Henry follows behind the doctor into an exam room that looks almost like any other you would see in a doctor's office. The doctor takes a seat at a small table with a laptop on it and starts to enter a few entries into the computer. He motions for Henry to go ahead and sit on the exam table. After a couple of minutes of documentation, the doctor turns to look over at the overweight man. "Okay Henry, it appears you have been referred to me because of an issue with your penis. My name by the way is Seth Darkori in case you were wondering. Just call me Seth if you want to, I don't mind at all. Now, tell me more about what your problem is and I will determine how to proceed." Henry looks at him in disbelief as he scans the doctor's red body and muscular frame. He might even be slightly attracted to him. "Uhhh…..well can I ask you a personal question first? Why are you…..ummmm…..well…..why is your skin red?" Seth laughs for a few seconds before he speaks again. "Don't worry Mr. Davis, I get this question every other time someone new comes here. I was born this way actually. It is in my genetics. I function the same way you do so there is no need for you to focus so much on it. Now tell me more about why your penis is in need of being examined." The man sighs a little before he continues his explanation. "Well, I have a very tiny penis. It is affecting my social life greatly and I am getting tired of feeling bad about it. I'm not sure what can be done about it, but my primary doctor thinks you can help me somehow." Seth smiles as he gets up from his chair to walk over to Henry. He then remembers to put some gloves on before he proceeds. "Sorry, I'm used to my assistant Brodie being here. He took the day off to be with his partner so I have to do everything. Let me take your blood pressure and whatnot before I take a look down there." The doctor performs the collection of vitals like blood pressure, body temperature, heartbeat count, and even checking for lumps on the man's body. He then motions for Henry to stand up. "Okay, I am going to need you to take your pants and underwear off for me so I can assess your condition." Henry seems embarrassed but understands that he needs to do this. He sheds his dress pants and puts them on the floor before pulling down his boxers very slowly. His erect 3-inch penis and tiny ballsac are nearly hidden underneath the fat he has accumulated over the years. The doctor looks at them calmly as he reaches down to touch and rub on the small pole. "Hmm, yeah it is pretty small. What surprises me the most Henry is that your balls are actually quite underdeveloped. They should be much bigger than this. You should have healthy vascularity in both your testicles and your penis and I don't really see that. I do have a procedure that I can perform on you though. Lay back on the table for me please while I go over and find the right instrument to administer the medication to you." Henry lies back down on the table as the doctor goes over to his cabinetry and opens up one of the drawers. The overweight man can't help but to watch him and sees the doctor pulling out a few metal rods on the counter. After taking three of them out, Seth walks back over to press them up against the man's hard cock until he finds the right size for it. He makes a few 'uh huhs' before walking back over to put the other two back in the drawer. He closes it and opens a cabinet above him to pull out a bottle with a bunch of capsules inside. The bottle itself is labeled 'enlargement'. He takes the rod, puts it inside the bottle, and slides one of the capsules into one end of the rod before putting the bottle back inside the cabinet again. He grabs a bottle of lube and walks back over beside Henry to grab an instrumentation table which has wheels on it. The tray on the table is already prepped for use so Seth can put his instrument and the bottle of lube on it. He stands very closely by Henry's side. "Okay Mr. Davis. I am going to be performing a procedure on you that will cure your penis problem. You will be feeling a lot of pressure when I insert the instrument into your urethra. After a couple of minutes, you might start to enjoy it in all actuality. I have had patients tell me that it is quite relaxing. I am confident that this will be successful so don't worry about it too much." The doctor squeezes some lube on to his gloves and then rubs it all over the metal rod. He then finds Henry's cock again and strokes it a few times to get it hard once more. The concerned overweight man can barely watch as Seth parts the cockhead's slit and slowly slides the rod down inside his cum canal. Henry groans feeling the rod rubbing up against the walls inside his shaft as it continues to slide down even further. It finally stops at the base as the doctor looks at his patient's face and sees that he is in a bit of discomfort. "Don't worry Henry. The hardest part of the procedure is about to pass. I am going to release the capsule at the end of the rod and will pull the rod out slowly so it doesn't irritate the inner lining of your shaft. You will feel a very strong numbing sensation passing through your entire penis and into your ball sac. It should not take more than a few minutes for the procedure to be completely done. *puts a finger up in the air* Ohh and another thing…..*pauses for a few seconds and then smiles*……there might other benefits to this procedure as well. I haven't tested your blood or your metabolic system, but you may lose some weight as well depending on how your body reacts to the capsule. That will happen simultaneously with whatever occurs with your penis. Just stay calm for me for another minute or so while the capsule dissolves inside your shaft." Henry's cock throbs while the doctor holds the metal rod in place. He feels the capsule begin to break open as he releases it by pressing on a knob on the top of the instrument. He slowly slides it up and out of the man's urethra and sits his cock off to the side towards one of Henry's legs where it continues to lightly bounce. The red-skinned doctor then places the rod on the tray and moves it over to where it was before he decided to use it. It is quite obvious that the pill is already starting to work because Henry has a puzzled look on his face. "Oh gawd! Yeah Dr. Darkori, I can't feel my dick…..this doesn't feel right. *the numbness moves into his testicles* Ack! What is happening to me?" The man's cock pulsates as a couple of light pops come from within the base. It turns a bright red as the veins in his shaft start swelling as it begins to lengthen as well. At the same time, his testicles are swelling as his sack expands to prepare for their new size. Henry feels his testosterone levels rising too. He is sweating profusely as reaches down to rub his chest with his hands and lightly moans to himself. The doctor examines his cock as it rises from Henry's leg and into the air as it continues to lengthen as it then reaches for his stomach. It is now over 6" long as new blood vessels start growing from out of nowhere. His testicles are looking like normal-sized ones now as they continue to swell. The numbness is now resigned to just the inner part of his cock's base as his shaft resumes its metamorphosis. Seth grins knowing that the procedure is working according to plan as he sees the man's stomach starting to shrink as well as his shirt moves closer down to his chest. Henry's cock slides up along the bottom half of the shirt as a couple of very bloated veins are now wrapping around the shaft as it surpasses 9" and continues to snakes its way up towards his ribcage. He moans deeply as he reaches up to pinch his nipples which are fully erect now. His testicles are nearly as big as golf balls as they fill in the remaining space inside his sac. Dr. Darkori runs his fingers along the slick wet shaft feeling its raging power in his hands as it continues to expand and lengthen. "Things appear to be going quite well Henry. *notices how his patient's body is getting more defined* It appears that the capsule is tapping into your metabolism as well. Your body fat has decreased in half already." Seth reaches down to feel how firm Henry's legs are now before returning his hands back up to Henry's huge shaft. He strokes it a couple of times making the much leaner patient grunt loudly as the doctor squeezes his huge cockhead causing a river of precum to flow into one of his gloved hands. The man's cock has now reached his well-defined pecs which are now pasted to his soaked shirt. The doctor runs his precum laden glove along Henry's lips before sitting him up on the table so that his immense cock can now touch his mouth. "I do believe your penis is in need of some attention Henry. Open your mouth so it can find its way inside." At this point, Henry's testicles have grown to the point that they resemble baseballs as they stretch his sac to its limits and his cock is beyond a foot long as he slowly leans his head down onto it massaging the cockhead with his tongue and lips moaning deeply as he tastes the sticky precum flowing down into his throat. His body has now gotten down to less than 10% fat as his muscles are completely visible in his shirt. He moves further down on his shaft and picks up speed on it as it swells and his ballsac contracts. His voice strains as the sensation is nearly too much for him to bear as he feels his cock getting ready to blast his insides. As the river of cum rushes into his 15" rod and down into his stomach, the doctor watches Henry's body hemorrhage as his muscles start exploding in size. He moans deeply as he continues to massage his huge pole with his mouth as the white flood starts to roll out of his mouth and down the sides of the powerful rod. With his body still arched downward, he tries to stay in rhythm as his abs, obliques, and lower back muscles double up on each other. He comes up for air after swallowing a few gulps of cum to take a few deep breaths as his pecs and upper back blast through his shirt as it cascades to the ground beside the doctor. He is now reveling in his transformation. "YES! MORE…..I WANT MORE! I haven't felt this alive in my entire life. Feed me more oh great penis!" He goes back to worshipping his cock as it dumps more cum inside his body. His voice is noticeably deeper as well now as his facial muscles look much fuller than before and the hair on the top of his head is growing much thicker. He is developing a very thick brown bushy beard with a few grey strands in between every few hairs. Seth continues to squeeze the massive pole as Henry's softball-sized nads react to the stimulation. Both of the growing man's legs are inflating into huge hairy redwood-sized tree trunks which coincide with the huge heart-shaped diamonds that are taking over the lower half of his body. His shoes explode under the sheer power of his fat toes and 18" feet. The doctor seems to be quite taken with Henry's metamorphosis now. He pulls his patient's 16" member out of his mouth to lean in to run his own tongue all over the massive cockhead which continues to spurt thick globs of cum. He makes a few 'mmmm' sounds before he looks into Henry's eyes to tell him something. "It tastes quite good Henry. *feels a quick rush of energy passing through him* I think I am…..*his back and chest muscles immediately tear through his lab coat* OHH GAWD YES! This is going to be quite fierce." The doctor flexes his guns and pushes his chest out to destroy whatever fabric is left on the top of his coat. His legs and cock emerge shortly after that as the red behemoth grunts a few times before hopping on to the table and positioning himself just above Henry's gargantuan pole. It immediately starts to slide itself into the big doctor's hole which stuns the patient. Somehow, Seth's body is molding itself to his cock as it continues to slide further inside. Seth smiles at Henry before bouncing up and down on him. The huge muscular top moans loudly as his cock and balls continue to produce more and more cum as it floods the doctor's system in waves. "YES! This feels so good Henry. I can feel myself…..*loud stretching noises are ringing from all over his body* MMMMMM…..your cock is an amazing muscle builder Mr. Davis." Seth is growing again as he feels his legs and ass spilling over the sides of Henry's waist. He bends over to bury his growing tits in his patient's face as his nipples start leaking fluid down the muscleman's big chest. The horny top munches on them tasting the sweet liquid coming from them as the doctor's dick manages to find Henry's mouth from in between his huge red mountains. Henry sucks on his cock vigorously tasting the thick precum as he takes turns on Seth's bloated pecs and his raging 20" cock. The exam table crumbles beneath them as they continue to keep pace with each other. After a few minutes of toying with the doctor's mammoth cockhead, he is rewarded with a thick white flood which places Henry in a comatose state. It is the tastiest liquid he has ever consumed but it is also too much for his mind to handle as he lies there motionless. "OH DAMN! I'm sorry about that Mr. Davis. I got so ravaged by my lust that I forgot that my cum causes a euphoria in humans. I think we need to stop now anyway since it is obvious that this was a rousing success. Unfortunately, I will have to give you a partial antidote to this because you can't leave here looking like this." The doctor slowly slides up and off his dazed client as he waddles over to the cabinets again where he realizes that his hands are too big to open the cabinetry. He breaks the cabinet door open to retrieve a long needle with a huge bottle of liquid. He quickly jabs the syringe into the bottle and collects part of the specimen before plunging the needle into his bulging 28" right gun. He finds another long needle and collects more of the specimen into that one before walking back over to his patient's side and gets down on the ground again. He is already starting to shrink as he plunges the needle into Henry's huge 25" left bicep. "This is a fast-acting agent in case you didn't notice already. Don't worry your penis and ballsac will still retain a very healthy size after you scale down a bit." After just thirty seconds of the serum being in his system, Henry shrinks down to about half the size he was before. His cock slowly shrinks down a few inches, but then stops at around the 10-11" mark while his balls stop somewhere between golf ball and baseball size. The doctor examines them closely before sucking on Henry's cock a few times to make it rise again. He smiles as he continues to jerk him until a few more ropes of cum come spilling out his cockhead. "Everything looks perfect now Henry. I have done all I can do for you at this point in time. Now if you will, please go wash up in the bathroom over here *points to the other side of the room* while I clean up some of the mess we made." He helps Henry up and leads him over to the bathroom where the lean muscular man begins to shower. The rubble they left is pushed into a corner on the other side of the room as the doctor finds a clean shirt and a pair of pants for him to wear when he leaves. He remembers that Henry was wearing boxers as well as he finds them sitting on the table he was doing some of his research on. He picks them up and hands them in to Henry who gasps loudly when he puts them on. He quickly rushes out into the exam room and points down at his huge bulge. "OH MY GAWD! It is so huge I can barely wear these now. This is awesome! Thank you so much Dr. Darkori." The doctor grins and hands Henry the shirt and pants he got for him and tells him to put them on. They fit almost perfectly as his new incredibly well-toned muscular body fills in every square inch underneath the fabric. Seth finds Henry's old pants and hands them to him. "I don't think you will be needing those anymore Mr. Davis. Your legs might fit fine inside the pants, but your waistline is probably half the size it was when you walked in here. These are just a reminder of who you were before. Okay, I think my work here is done. *hands him a clipboard after he signs his name on the dotted line* Take this to the man at the front desk and you can go ahead and leave. Call me when you need to come back for anything else. *waves goodbye*" Henry waves back and smiles as he goes out the exam room door and down the hallway. Seth rushes into the bathroom shortly after to take a shower himself. He remembers that he needs to find another lab coat in the closet and puts it on first to make sure that he can fit in it. After cleaning up, he secures it firmly so that his junk doesn't fall out by accident. It is time for him to meet his next client and leaves the exam room to go back out to the main lobby.
Little Mouse - Part Four
londonboy posted a topic in Stories[Nothing better about being on break for Christmas than getting to write some stories. Sorry, it's short.] "Come on, Matt, let's wrestle." "You got to be kidding, Mouse. You're so small I'd obliterate you in less than twenty seconds." "You might be surprised, you know. It's possible I could last longer." "Come on, squirt. Get real. Look at the size of me. You're like not even the size of one of my legs. I flex a gun and it bulges out thicker than your chest." "Yeah, but just think about the fun we'll both have as you manhandle me as if I were nothing. That should get you excited, huh?" "You are one fucking muscle whore, aren't you, little Mouse. You are just trying to get me to toss you around like a little toy. Being dominated by me is like taking speed, isn't it? You just can't get enough." Matt moved so quickly that Michael had little time to react, let alone do anything to prevent what was coming. Matt easily picked up the little guy, lifted him over his head, and then slammed him down onto the bed on his back. The mattress was soft, but Michael still got the air knocked out of him. Within a flash, Matt had thrown his huge body on top of the smaller guy – smashing him with his big torso. The wrestler then grabbed the edge of the mattress on both sides and started grinding his body into the smaller guy. This had been exactly what Michael had hoped would happen. Michael was too wound up by the remnants of Tommy's power bar still surging through his body, as well as the usual high level of excitement that the big wrestler's body caused. He immediately squirted a major gob of his juice that quickly soaked through his underwear and gym shorts. The wetness was instantly felt by the big jock. "Aw fuck, Mouse. Did you shoot a load? Damn, I can feel it – all sticky and wet. Dude, all I did was shove you into the mattress. Oh shit, Mouse, now my pants are all messed up." "Can't help it, Matt. I just love it when you put me in my place. Better watch out, though, one day I might be able to match your strength and maybe even surpass it. I might be dominating you!" "When donkey's fly, little Mouse." "Or maybe when I can toss your ass across the room – it'll be the same thing." "What was that, Mouse? Did you just say you thought you might one day toss my huge body across the room? Little man, you couldn't even budge all this muscle one inch using all of your strength – let alone, pick me up. But look at this. I can hold you in place with just one hand." It wasn't clear if Matt knew that Michael was egging him on or not. It didn't matter, though, since Matt was playing into the smaller guy's desires perfectly. Matt reached down and put one of his massive hands around Michael's neck and softly squeezed – playing with the little guy, but using enough strength to remind him who was in charge. Matt pressed down at the same time – holding Michael in place, easily. There was no way for Michael to escape the grip and that's just the way he liked it. At the same time, Michael noticed something even more wonderful – he could feel Matt's cock getting harder – much harder than it had ever been before. He could also feel the thing throbbing with excitement. It seemed that Matt was enjoying the little exchange as much as Michael was. The smaller guy decided to test a theory. "That puny arm, Matt? I bet I can beat that tiny thing with very little effort." The smile that crept across Matt's face turned Michael on even more, but it was also a tad frightening. Challenging Matt was hot-as-hell to Michael, but it looked like it thrilled the big wrestler even more. Matt's cock jerked hard inside of his pants – Michael could feel it pulsing strong. The big hand around the smaller guy's neck gripped harder and he could feel his head and upper body being pressed into the mattress with even more power. It was getting more difficult to suck in air – his windpipe was slowly being crushed. Matt was breathing more deeply – kind of like a bull getting ready to charge. Michael figured it was time to take all this sexual tension to a new level. "That all you got, punk? I bet a high school girl could easily whip your ass. And here I thought you were some kind of big, strong wrestler." Michael's teasing sent Matt into a super-charged alpha frenzy. He let go of the guy's neck, quickly slid his body up until he was kneeling beside the smaller dude's face, unzipped his pants, and had his hard cock slammed into Michael's mouth before either guy batted an eye. The thrusting that ensued was like a major medieval battering ram against castle gates. The dominating ballet act has been choreographed perfectly by Michael. All of this had been exactly what he wanted. The bigger man was face fucking like crazy in order to show the smaller guy he was nothing. Michael sucked like a pro – having learned exactly what to do to get Matt to the brink of no return quicker than anything. Before either man even had time to catch a breath, the big wrestler was churning out one of the heaviest loads ever – something that satisfied both men to no end. Michael's throat seemed to be a bottomless well that could suck up anything Matt had to offer, while the wrestler seemed to pump out enough juice to make up for all the weeks of those pitiful spurts that had come before. Even in the midst of all this action Michael was able to take note of how challenging the big man had turned both of them on beyond what he ever imagined. Matt seemed to love the idea of some guy going all cocky on him and then the bigger man putting him in his place easily. Michael began to wonder what was going to happen when he was actually big enough and strong enough to seriously challenge the other man – even though that thought was still truly foreign to him. He figured he was going to be able to cause Matt to orgasm even ten times stronger than he just had. That was going to be hot beyond belief. The usually reserved wrestler let out a moan so loud that Michael figured it was heard across campus. The release was so bombastic, that Matt could not help from sounding like a giant growling bear. "Awwww fuuuuckkkk, little Mouse . . . that was incredible. Your tight little throat never felt so good. Did you see how I smashed you with just one hand? One hand! And yet you mouthed off like you were some guy five times bigger than you are. Shit, that turned me on so much. Acting like I was dominating someone big and cocky. Oh, we're gonna have to do that a lot more, Mouse. You're going to have to act all tough and bossy – and then I'm going to put you in your place. I'm going to dominate you like you're the little squirt you are. Fuck, that's going to be so hot. I gushed like an ocean, didn't I?" Michael's mouth was still full of Matt's now semi-hard cock and he had swallowed like a madman. The moment had been the closest thing to mutual satisfaction the couple had ever experienced. That thought thrilled the smaller man very much. He had caused Matt to become more excited than ever before. It was like they were moving to a new level in their relationship and that made Michael happier than he had ever felt with the wrestler. Slowly, he was beginning to trust the relationship again. He was thinking he had found a secret way to make Matt bust his nuts hard every time – by challenging him. Michael also knew the bigger he got the more he'd be able to challenge the wrestler. That thought turned him on tremendously.