Becoming a muscle god

by Corwin

Mike discovers what it's like to become a muscle god, and how awesome it is to turn the tables on the coach who’d thought he’d get to dominate the newly-grown Muscle Mike.

3,083 words Added Apr 2018 33k views (#291) 4.4 stars (10 votes)

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You’re in the weight room, training for the college wrestling team. The coach told you to train upper body today, so you started with bench press. It’s hot, and the sweat soaks you t-shirt as you lift 350 pounds. Your buddy John is spotting you. You crank out 7 reps with ease, but need a spot for the eighth. You get up, wipe down the bench, and John gets ready to do the set. You notice the coach watching you.

You glare at him. He’s so big and strong, and he likes to show it off. He pushes his team hard, and when they don’t live up to his standards, he pushes them harder. You hate him. You hate him because he’s everything you want to be. Huge. Handsome. Dominant.

John cranks out 8 reps, but nearly misses the bench. “Hey Mike, pay attention to what you’re doing!” says John.

“OK.” You help John with the bar.

The coach walks over. “Hey guys, let me show you how it’s done.” The coach strips off his shirt. He’s dark and swarthy, with a hairy chest. He looks about 24, but you know he’s older than that. He picks up the 350 pound bar and slowly lowers it to his chest. He completes 12 reps without breaking a sweat.

The coach gets up and bounces his massive pecs. “See, guys, that’s how it’s done. Mike, try again. And really push yourself this time. I know you can do this weight easy.”

You get an angry look on your face watching him show off arrogantly.

“Fine!” You get on the bench and proceed to do your reps. You crank out ten before slamming the bar down. Your pecs, shoulders and tris are pumped. You breath in your musky man-smell and smirk with the knowledge that the coach didn’t get you, this time.

“Good. Knew you had it in you.” He puts another 50 one each side. “John, I’ll work out with Mike.” It’s wasn’t a statement, but an order. John knows not to object. He walks away.

The coach gets down and crank out another 12 reps. “Good warm up. Think you can do this weight son?”

You take off your workout shirt. Your pecs are round and full. You have cannonball sized delts, and thick hard arms. Your waist is a washboard. Your blond hair and sea-blue eyes are accentuated by your tan. You know you’re handsome. You know that all the guys on the team envy your perfect looks and powerful build, and the way the girls fawn all over you. Yet, compared to the coach, you feel small. Weak. Skinny. You look at the coach and scowl, then lay back down.

“Bring it on coach!”

You crank out six. Nice and slow. Your chest is covered with sweat as you strain to get rep after rep. Your pecs pump huge as you force out each rep. When you drop the weight on the bench, it makes a huge CLANG. The coach is smiling. “Ya. Way to go Mike.” He shakes his head with approval. “You are one damn strong kid. Hey, if you’re done here, come back to my office. I got something to show you…”

You jump up from the bench rubbing your sore pecs.

“Ya, I’m done coach.”

You bounce your pecs.

The coach talks while you walk. “You know, Mike. I’m a good 280 pounds. I’ve competed as a super-heavyweight bodybuilder and won my share of trophies. I think you got good potential.” You both enter the coach’s office. On the wall are other players from the last few years. Each are hugely muscled, but not as muscular as the coach. “Got any idea how old I am Mike?”

You start to get a tingle in your shorts looking at the pics on the wall.

You scratch your head. “I don’t know coach…..32?”

“41.” The coach flexes his arm. “That’s a good 23 inch bi there, Mike. Cold. My thighs are 35, and I can bench 700 pounds for 8 reps. You know, Mike. I didn’t get this big without help. And I don’t mean steroids. I shared my secret with those guys on the wall. Each won the national wrestling trophy. I’d like to share the secret with you. What do you think?”

Your eyes are glued to the coach’s bicep. You sit down to hide hide growing hard on.

“Wow, coach! I’d do anything to get huge.” Your mouth gets dry at the thought, and you lick your lips. “Ya, like you, or even bigger, sir. I mean, coach.”

The coach walks over to you. He places his hand on your chest and squeeze. “Damn, you are one big guy. The other guys were no where near as big as you are now.” He lets go and shakes his head yes. “You see, Mike, I did some travelling in South America when I was younger. I met this woman. She said she had some magics that could make me huge, keep me young. She gave me the secret.” He pulls out a dark chocolate-like substance from his desk. “I’ve only taken one dose of this, ever. I’ve never needed more.” The coach looks at his body, places his hands on his hips and flexes. Every muscle in his body expands huge into tight, ripped definition. The bulge in his shorts grow. “This stuff takes everything you got and give you more of it. Lots more. Each guy reacts differently.” The coach breaks off a piece and hands it to you. “You want to be huge? Eat it. I should tell you, so far, no one has been able to match my muscle.”

“No one, huh?” You grin mischievously. You stand up and quickly snatch the whole bar and eat it all.

The coach laughs. “You got gusto kid. Oh, I forgot the other side effect. It makes you horny as hell.” I walk over and lock the door. I turn to watch you. You begin to get flushed. “Feeling dizzy yet? Don’t worry about it. It means you’re growing. How’s it feel?”

You begin to turn crimson red. “It’s burning, coach! I feel it spreading from my stomach … all over…. I feel like—I gotta—sit.” You collapse on the chair and start jerking uncontrollably. Suddenly, you’re yelling out in pain.

The coach pulls off his shorts. There is a bulge in his jock strap. He rubs it as he watches your body grow, becoming stronger. “Good. It’s starting to work.” He watches as you breath deeply. With each breath, your chest gets bigger. Your arms pound the floor, and swell with muscle. Your legs press into your shorts, which begin to get tight. Your body balloons with power and size. With each jerk, your muscles grow. So does your cock, which is creeping to the side of your hips.

“That’s my boy. Grow huge. Can’t wait to see how big you get.” The coach can’t take it anymore. He pulls down his jock strap, revealing a massive erect cock. “Guess you see the other effect now, don’t you?”

The convulsions start to become less intense but you keep swelling, becoming bigger and stronger.

The coach sees that it’s almost over. He walks over to you and lifts you up. Your body continues to grow. “Damn kid, you might get to be as big as me.” He rub his hands over your hard, round chest, then down your eight pack. Your shorts begin to rip.

You can’t say anything but “FUCK…ohh aaugggghhhh.”

“Yeah, getting huge. Only a few more seconds, Mike, then you’ll see what real muscle is like. Muscle like this.” The coach pulls you close and flexes, making his muscles hard and huge as he holds you in a bear hug. “Fuck, your lats are amazing! Damn wide and hard.” The coach bites your thick neck.

You feel the coach’s tight bear hug squeeze. Instinctively, you flex into it. The strength seems to fade. Is he releasing me? you think. Then you realize, No. I’m becoming bigger and stronger than him!

The coach doesn’t notice. No one has been stronger than he, so he can’t conceive it. “Yeah, that’s my big boy. Feeling better yet? Ready to test that new body? I’m game.” He says it with confidence, flexing his muscles in a show of superiority.

The kid is massive, and the coach smiles at the thought of how heavy he’s become. “Yeah, another super-heavy. Good.”

Slowly, as the growth recedes, you to come to.

The coach put you down and grabs your shorts. He rips them off. “Yeah, now you’re a man.” He slaps your bubble butt, which makes a loud smack. “Yeah, damned big.”

You look down on yourself. “Holy shit!”

“Go ahead. Flex. Check yourself out.” He points to a mirror.

The coach walks over to it, and hits a double bi. “Like this. Nice.” He admires himself, staring and the massive peaks on each arm. His cock jerks at the sight of his massive, prize-winning body.

You are still shaken up by the growth, but do the same. You feel your muscles forced wide, spreading huge as you fill the entire reflection with new power.

Fuck, coach! I’m huge!” Your eyes widen and you smile as you taken in your new massive body. “Look at these fucking guns!”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

The coach goes to his desk and throws you a measuring tape. “Go ahead. What are they, 22?”

The realization of your new size hits you, even if it hasn’t dawned on the coach. “You measure me,” you say slyly as you toss the tape back to him. You run your hands down your huge loaf-like pecs, wide eyed from the size.

“My pleasure,” the coach says arrogantly. You see his cock jerk at the idea. First, he flexes his arm, and wraps the tape around it. It stretches just past 23. “Yeah, fucking huge!” he says with confidence.

Now it’s your turn. You make a huge bi. He wraps the tape around it. His eyes go wide as he tries to squeeze the tape, but it won’t get any tighter. “HOLY FUCK. 26! That’s three inches bigger than me!”

“Yeah, coach!” You scream, flexing your arm even tighter, forcing the tape out more. You have a huge peak, and every striation of the muscle is visible through your paper-thin skin. “Looks like I’m no longer your little guy!”

The coach rubs his hand over your arms in disbelief. He squeezes, then harder, unable to dent the granite-like muscle.

Now he understands, you think. You grin wide, as your now huge cock begins to rise. It becomes vertical and grows just into the deep valley between your pecs.

The coach rubs his hands over his chest, feeling the meat. Then he does yours. “Damn, yours feel bigger too.” His cock bumps into yours. His eyes grow wider as he sees you’re bigger there too. “No one’s ever grown bigger than me. I… I…”

“Yeah. Looks like this thing worked better than you expected, eh?” You hit a few poses looking at yourself in disbelief and admiration.

“I need to measure that chest!” the coach screams. He pulls the tape measure out. His hands are shaking as he walks over. “Lift your arms. Let’s see how big that chest is. Don’t flex.” He wraps the tape around. 72!

“I don’t believe it. Flex.” Your lats stretch the tape as your pecs bounce up. The 84-inch tape is too small.

“Hell yeah!” Your dick starts to leak as you watch the coach struggle to get his big hands around your huge muscles.

The coach looks down at your dick with lust. He pushes into you, trying to force you to turn. “Damn, I want to suck that cock of yours.” He struggles, his arms bulging. His hands digging into you. His lats flaring as he calls upon all his strength in an effort to get what he wants. His face turns red as he finds that all his strength can’t move you.

“Yeah, looks like you’re the little dude now eh, coach?” You grab his arms and force them off of you. It’s easy, even though he’s struggling with all he’s got. “I think you’re going to be paying me some respect now, don’t you?” You turn to him, bouncing your ball-sized pecs right in his face.

“Respect is earned, Mike.”

“How about I just force you?” You walk over to him, and place a hand on his pecs. He leans into it, but you push with all you’ve got. The coach flies back into his desk, unable to withstand your one mighty arm.

“That’s Sir, not Mike,” you demand, adding, “little dude.”

“You can try.” His voice isn’t as certain as it once was as he pulls himself up.

Before he can recover, you jerk a knee his stomach hard. You hear the wind rush out of his lungs as he slumps over.

“Kneel!” you order. He looks at you. “Kneel little fella. You know I can force you.” You place your hands on your hips and flex, striking the pose the coach had made earlier. Your muscles are clearly bigger. Harder. Stronger.

The coach is slumped over, amazed at your strength. Slowly, he gets up. He looks at you, never having seen such determination. He slowly gets down on one knee. “S-s-s-sir.” He looks to the ground.

“Good boy.” He can feel your big dick poking his head as he looks down.

He reach to touch your hard cock, but you bat it away. You haven’t given him permission.

“So this is how its gonna work now, kid,” you say arrogantly. “You will worship me, treat me like a god, and no questions asked.”

He looks at you. There is a trace of lust in his eyes. He wants that power. Suddenly he jumps up and runs to his desk. Quickly, he grabs another piece of the ‘candy’…”

“Grrr…” You are on him before he can react, and snatch it from him. You twist his arm as easily as if he were a newborn babe. Your strength will not be denied.

“UGH!” he cries. “No, I’m sorry. Don’t hurt me,” he pleads.

You crush the rest of the candy in your hand and it pulverizes into dust which you drop onto your shorts.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do anything you say. I’ll worship you!” the coach pleads, then kneels before you. “How may I please you, sir?”

“Suck my cock, wimp,” you order.

He crawls toward you. He looks up, and sees your huge, fat cock. He slowly sniffs it, then licks its length. He moves to the head and has his tongue lap at it like a hungry dog. “May I put it in my mouth, sir?”

You look down grinning, holding your dick in you hand. You move it across the coach’s face, slobbering precum all over it.

“Thank you, sir.” A tear runs down his cheek, knowing he is beaten. “Please sir, may I suck it. Please.”

You smack his face with it.

“Look at you now, coach! Your own secret has turned you into a begging cocksucker. I always envied your size and power, and now that I’m bigger I’m going to show you what it is to feel that little and inferior. I’m going to give you a taste of what you gave me!”

“Please let me suck you. Please!” the coach begs. “I’ve always loved cock, Mike. I sucked those other boys off too. They liked it. But I dominated them. You…” He looks in awe of your size. “I feel so small compared to you. I…” He looks down, humbly. “Sir, may I worship you. You deserve it. You’re huge.” He kisses your feet and licks them. “I know how to make you bigger, if you want. I can make more of the growth compound, but only for you. I want you to be the biggest muscle god. Please Mike. Please sir. Will you be my god?”

“I am already your god!” You look at the begging man with disgust. How the mighty have fallen. “Wimp! Bitch!” You bounce your now huge pecs.

“Yes sir. Please sir. How may I worship you. May I suck your chest sir? Would you like me to suck your godlike pecs?”

“First things first ,bitch!” You place your cock head on his lips. “Take it all.”

He opens his mouth wide. Your cock is so thick. He slowly begins to push it in. He gets it in halfway, then he starts to gag. He pulls back, coughing. “It’s too big…”

You look angry at him. “Open that mouth, cocksucker.” You slam your cock into his mouth and ram it down his throat. He starts to cry, but that only gets you more turned on.

The coach places his hand on your ass as he adjusts to your superior organ. Your glutes are hard and ripped—pure muscle. He digs a finger into your rectum and finds the sensitive area. You moan approvingly. Suddenly, you feel your juices growing. You grab the coach’s head as you explode, feeding him your juices. You cum for 15 seconds before you allow him to pull off. He gasps for breath.

“Better get use to it, wimp. Your god expects you to worship him often. That was good for a first try, but I deserve better.”

The humiliated coach looks up, longingly. “Yes sir.”

3,083 words Added Apr 2018 33k views (#291) 4.4 stars (10 votes)

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