Mirror mirror

By Corwin 
2 parts
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• Latest update: 7 December. Next update: 21 December. (Submissions welcome.)

• Latest from BRK: “Flashmob”, Parts 9‑10.

Part 1

Jon walked into the gym, ready to work out. Jay at the desk nodded to him, recognizing his tank-like body. At five foot six and 240 plus pounds, he ranked among one of the biggest at the gym, but that wasn’t his goal. He wanted to be the biggest.

Jon looked around. In the pit, where the big guys trained, Kyle was spotting Steve. Kyle was six foot seven and had a build Arnold would be jealous of. Jon envied Kyle’s height, and the respect it commanded, but he envied Steve more. Although two inches shorter than Jon, he weighed two hundred ninety five pounds, all of it ripped to shreds muscle. Jon’s 19 inch arms were dwarfed by Steve’s 24s, and his 50 inch chest was flat compared to Steve’s 58. Everyone of Steve’s muscle bellies was thicker and more ripped that Jon’s. When Steve took off his shirt, people always gasped at his cinder block abs that took on an even more menacing definition when flexed. Steve was a nice guy, but Jon longed for the power and size Steve possessed. He saw Steve get under nearly 600 pounds, and squat it, Kyle counting each of the reps. Steve made it look easy, and he enjoyed being the second strongest guy in the gym.

Jon noted some of the regulars around, Jake, Mitch and a few others. He nodded to them and went to the locker room. He knew their eyes followed him. They were nice guys, but as one of the bigger guys, he had their respect.

He walked into the locker room, seeing Ron changing. He was about six feet tall, and had a hard lean build. Ron’s locker was next to his, and they tended to have overlapping schedules. Jon nodded and saw Ron wrap a towel around his waist before taking off his shorts. Jon smiled.

Ron had been working out at the gym for about nine months. He was a runway model, with wavy black hair, a rugged face and classically handsome features. Ron joined the gym to put on some mass to do more fitness modelling. At the time, the locker room was the territory of Paul Horster, or Paul the Horse. Paul had a skinny build and used the cardio equipment, but he spent more time in the steam room and locker room where he strutted around naked. He loved making sure every saw his huge cock and balls, and loved to brag about his double digit size. When Jon or Steve were checking themselves out, pumped after a hard workout lifting heavy weights, The Horse would often strut over to make sure that no matter how big their muscles got, his measurement of manhood was way bigger than theirs. It often worked too.

When Ron joined the gym, he had a good build, lean and ripped but wanted to get a bit bigger. After one of his first workouts, he was on his way to the steam room when he passed the mirror. He stopped to look when The Horse came up, naked as usual, making sure to strut in a way that caused his big cock to bounce.

“Hey man, looking good,” Paul said.

“Thanks,” said Ron and started to turn away, but Paul jumped in his path.

“Going for a steam? Always hot in there.” Paul put his hands on his hips, making sure to accentuate his horse cock.

Ron looked him in the eye and shook his head, a look of annoyance on his face. He pulled his towel off and threw it over his shoulder and adopted Paul’s pose. Paul scanned Ron’s body, and stopped at his groin, seeing a cock that not only rivaled his own, but looked a bit bigger. ”You wanna do this man? Let’s go.” Ron took a step, forcing Paul back toward the steam room door.

Paul looked confused. No one had ever challenged him before. He was always easily the biggest. Ron opened the door, and stepped in. Paul paused. ”Coming, tiny?”

Paul’s ego was at stake, so he followed.

Ron never admitted what happened in the steam room, but Paul came out 15 minutes later, got dressed and left. For the next month, when anyone saw him in the locker room, he was wearing a towel or shorts. When he saw ‘Ron the Rod’, his eyes would always drop to the man’s prominent bulge. Sometimes he’d mutter, “Fuck.” Rumor has it The Rod was over two inches bigger and a lot thicker than The Horse, but neither Paul or Ron would admit that.

Whatever happened, Paul quit the gym. Ron didn’t like showing off The Rod, unless some jerk decided to be a show off, then he’d put the guy in his place.

The memory made Jon smile.

Ron nodded to Jon as he headed to the steam room, leaving a pair of shoes under one of the benches. He stopped before the mirror, turned and looked at himself. His hand moved to the towel, but then he heard Jon behind him and stopped. Ron turned and went to get his steam.

Jon stripped down and saw his own reflection in the mirror. He had never thought of it before, but almost every guy couldn’t get passed the mirror without checking themselves out. Some used it to check out other guys while they changed. It was a strange place for a mirror, amplifying the changing area like it did. Alone in the locker room, he walked over naked, checking himself out.

He raised both arms and struck a double bicep. ”BOOM!” his 19s exploded. He turned sideways and hit a side chest, his blonde hair unable to hide the thick muscles of his pecs. ”YA!” He checked out his butt, hard and round from deep squats. His quads and hams were thick. ”Look’n good, but damn, I want to be bigger.” He started to laugh. ”Mirror mirror on the wall, make me the biggest of them all!”

That’s when it happened. Time seemed to slow for Jon. Waves developed in the solid mirror. In the center, a spot developed that echoed outward creating circular waves. From this dot, silver fingers emerged, then a hand, then a wrist and a thick forearm, The silver arm grabbed Jon’s shoulder in a vice-like grip, and he felt himself pulled forward. He hit the plane of the mirror, but it felt soft. Fluid. He felt himself pulled forward, a warmth surrounding him as the floated into the mirror. For a moment it was hard to breath, like he was drowning. The force continued to pull him, and he felt himself emerge. He was in the locker room again, but now everything was backwards. He turned, and saw what looked like a window and beyond it was the locker room.

“What the fuck?” Jon quickly looked around. He heard something. ”Who’s there? What’s happening.” Another sound, like a footstep. Jon turned, and saw something. It was like the room was warped into the shape of a man. A very large, muscular man. And the shape was coming toward him. Instinctively, Jon tried to move back, but the shape was fast. It reached out a hand, pointed a finger at his head and touched him.

‘Don’t be afraid.’ The thought filled his brain, and the touch was warm and comforting.

The shape, the Being, had to be close to 7 feet tall, and almost as wide. Jon had to look up to see its face, a blank mask with no eyes or mouth. Looking forward, Jon saw his face deformed into a hyper-ripped eight pack, and his hair chest created a bush around an elephantine cock and ostrich-egg sized balls. It dawned on Jon that the Being was a mirror, or, more precise, a skin of polished silver reflecting images back at him.

‘Yes’… another thought filled his mind, then images. There was a molten pool of metal and the feeling that everything was new. A birth. The metal cooled, become hard. Trapped. Time stopped, then heat again. There was a glass, and a spraying and polishing. The world became dark, then light. Here.

Jon tried to understand. ”You live in the mirror? How? Where did you come from?”

Nothing. No, not nothing. Emptiness.

“You don’t know?”

More images filled Jon’s head. A small speck, looking at the locker room. He saw motion, the men coming to change and work out. A feeling of loneliness. Wanting contact. Reaching out. As he does, one stops to look. Then another. And another. As they pay attention, the speck changes. It starts to grow, taking on the shape of the onlookers.

“You? That is why everyone looks when they pass.”

Loneliness. The Being grows. In his mind, he sees Kyle and a feeling of size. He sees Paul and Ron, and a feeling of virility and power over men. He sees Steve and Greg, and a feeling of strength and power. And he sees himself, and he feels strength but also recognizes a longing for all that the others have.

“I don’t understand.”

A feeling of being trapped grew in Jon. It started small, and images of each man flashed in an endless loop. With each iteration, he sees the Being grow and the feeling of being confined which started small but grew until it was unbearable.

The Being pulled his finger back, then raised both arms. Huge biceps flexed upward, pecs and lats flaring. The being trust a leg forward, the mirrored surface of his massive quad flowing into rivers of pure power.

The flex pushed Jon backward, a sudden irresistible pressure, like everything around him was being pressed into the massive flexing body and there was no where to move to avoid the growing mass.

“You grew too big. The mirror, it constrains your size?”

The Being nodded, and stopped flexing. Jon nearly fell forward as the pressure decreased. The Being pointed at Jon again. In his mind he heard, “Make me the biggest of them all.”

Jon suddenly felt afraid. ”You’re not some kinda of body snatcher are you?”

A wave of amusement washed over him, and he feels relief. The Being pulled back and looked through the window.

Jon turned. Someone came into the locker room. He recognized Greg. He was in his work clothes—a construction worker. He could almost smell the musk of a day’s hard work on him, only to make it muskier by lifting incredible poundages as he builds his super-powered body. Jon knew Greg’s reputation as the strongest guy in the gym, and it was well deserved. Greg was a powerlifter, and even though he only weighed 250, he benched more than 3 times his weight. While he wasn’t as ripped as Steve, he could best the powerhouse in every exercise and lorded it over the shorter, more muscular man. Every few months, Greg would challenge Steve to an arm wrestling contest. Greg would flex his smaller twenty inches, taunting the man with the larger muscles until he’d consent. The results were predictable. Both men’s forearms would burst into veiny relief as their abundant muscle pumped large. Steve’s 24s would peak and throb with superior size, trying fruitlessly to overpower Greg. Greg would grin, his muscles absorbing Steve’s power and dominating it with his own superior might. Steve’s wrist would bend backward as Greg grinned. Steve would snarl and demand more power, but it never mattered. Greg made it look easy as he slowly, methodically pushed Steve’s struggling arm down. Greg would then grab Steve’s cannon and squeeze. Steve would flex, but would always wince in the powerhouse’s grip. ”Not even trying.” Sometimes he’d challenge Steve to crush his gun, but that was pointless. Greg’s body was too hard.

Jon watched as Greg removed his shirt, then looked to the mirror. His pecs were perfectly formed, with nipples that pointed to the ground. A devilish grin appeared on his face as he checked out his huge arms, chest and back. The hardness of his body was obvious. He kept watching himself as he pushed his pants down over his massive legs. He laughed as his round, rock-hard gut pushed his briefs out. No six-pack for Greg, until he flexed and it appeared. He walked to the mirror and pushed his briefs down, his five inches pulsing hard between his massive nuts.

“You’re doing this?” Jon asked the Being, but there is no answer. Instead, the Being walked forward to Jon, stepping into the same space he occupied.

Jon found it hard to breath. His vision became blurry and his body became someone else’s. Jon felt his skin tingle, like it was stretching. He felt different, like he was becoming heavier. He felt strong. Jon’s arms rose, and he flexed into a double bicep. He looked forward, and Greg was hitting the same pose, a self-satisfied look on his face. Jon felt his arms flexing harder, contracting more and more, huge granite baseballs of power. Jon had flexed often, but this felt different. He thought his muscles felt heavy and was he able to contract them more?

Greg unflexed his left arm, but flexed his right harder. His 20 inch softball became an iron-hard cannon ball on his arm. Jon’s did the same. Greg and Jon placed their hands on the muscle. ”Fuck!” both said in unison. So hard. They squeezed. ’Never so hard…’ Jon thought, feeling incredibly strong. Jon’s thoughts turned to lifting the heaviest weights with ease. It seemed natural to him, like he always knew he could… can… and will.

Greg/Jon/the Being turned in unison, dropping their arms and hitting a side chest. Jon couldn’t believe how the flex felt. He hit the pose harder than he ever had, his muscle demanding to contract into an iron shield over his body.

The pressure over his body relaxed, and Jon could breath, but he needed to flex more. His muscles felt so good. Strong. Hard. Powerful. He loved it. He moved his leg, and Greg did the same, flexing hard. Thick, ripped muscle crashed forward. Greg moved his hand over his thick quads, and Jon did the same. ”So big and hard,” he said.

‘Yesssssss…’ was the response in his head.

“Time to get bigger,” said Greg, as he turned away from the mirror.

The Being withdrew from Jon. He looked smaller, less rugged. Jon’s body, on the other hand, felt heavier. Harder. ”Stronger?”

The Being nodded.

“I’m strong like Greg?” Jon’s hands formed fists, then relaxed, then fists again as if eager to test their new power.

The Being shook his head, and extended a finger. ’Stronger.’ The word echoed in his mind with his excitement at the thought of being the strongest man in the gym.

“Stronger? How?” Jon’s hands flexed again, his forearms throbbing and tensing.

The Being moved his finger and pointed toward the locker room. No, pointing toward the window. It was slightly curved.

“The glass magnifies? but it’s so small.”

The Being made contact again. ’Feeds me. Makes me grow. Too much.’

Jon shook his head, trying to understand. The Being fed off of what? The difference between reality and perception?

‘Yes.’

Like fire or something? When someone lights a match?

‘No. Living. Desire.’

Greg desired power. Steve wanted size. Jon wanted it all.

‘Yes.’

Jon heard a muffled noise, and looked out. Steve and Kyle were coming into the locker room while Greg was pulling up his workout shorts.

“Dudes. Finished pumping?” Greg stood up. ”Looking huge, as always, Stevie-boy.”

“Hey man… you’re late today.” Kyle smiled and slapped Greg on the shoulder. ”Shit dude, you’re stoked!”

“Nah, not yet. Man, gotta get a pump. Really swole, ya know?”

“Ya, you little dudes always talking about your pump…” Steve smiled and flexed his pecs through his sweat-stained shirt. Greg responded by punching them, not holding back his power and forcing Steve to step back.

“Sorry man… Sometimes I forget my own strength.” Greg smacked a fist into his palm, making a loud crack, then shrugged. “It’s a back day for me and I gotta get out of here to spread these wings…”

Steve still had the grimace of defeat on his face at having to succumb to Greg’s power, but shook it off. ”Ya man. Go pump.”

“You done?” Greg asked, cracking his neck by shaking his head from side to side.

“Legs. 6 plates.” Steve bragged.

“Cool. That’s chest for me. Well, for a warm-up.” Greg slapped his iron shields for effect. He pulled the shirt over his massive pecs. ”Damn, thought for a minute this might have been yours. Wouldn’t want my hard pecs to split them.”

Steve lifted his shirt. ”Dude, that flat chest couldn’t split anything that could contain my man tits.” Steve rubbed his chest, the let his shirt drop like a tent over his thin waist.

Greg smiled and flexed. ”6 plates? A bit light for chest, but these MEN can do that. Greg flexed his pecs and for a moment, Steve and Kyle just stared. Then Kyle started to laugh.

“Have a great workout superman!” He then turned and went to his locker, fumbling with the lock, his hands shaking.

Greg smiled, winked at Steve and headed to the door. Steve scowled at Kyle, watching his hands shake at Greg’s gloating. He’d pay for that. Later.

“Think I’ll go for a steam,” Kyle said. Jon thought he saw Kyle look toward Ron’s shoes, but couldn’t be sure.

“OK… Maybe I’ll go in too, but can’t stay too long. Gotta get home to the misses… you know how she is…”

“I thought she was at worki…” Kyle stopped, seeing the look in Steve’s eye. ”Ya, maybe a beer then?”

“Maybe,” Steve said. He turned, and opened his locker.

As soon as Kyle saw Steve’s attitude, he opened his own locker, no longer fighting with the key and slammed open the door like is was a on fire. He stripped down fast, throwing his clothes into the locker and put his size 14s next to Ron’s, noting they were about the same size. He grabbed a towel, scratching his large, sweaty balls as he saw his impressive body in the mirror.

“Everything about him is big,” Jon muttered, watching Kyle wrap a towel to cover up and step into the steam room.

‘Soon, but him first.’ The Being looked toward Steve, who was struggling to get his sweaty shirt over his powerful chest. He fought with the fabric, twisting his ripped abs and forcing it over his barn door lats. Inch by inch his hair body emerged, the black fur damp and pressed into the abundant muscle.

Steve’s shorts were equally challenging, His legs were obviously pumped, and shorts that would have hung loose on any other man had ripped around massive quads and hams, not to mention his glutes. He started to push them down over his bubble-butt, but struggled. ”Fuck it,” he said, grabbing the elastic and pulling. He shoulders flexed, and Popeye forearms rippled. The fabric had no chance against bis that are two feet around and the power they possess. Steve had gone commando, and his massive ball sack thrust forward by his enormous legs, his tiny cock lost in the size of his jewels.

Jon could feel the Being summoning Steve to the mirror. As Steve approached, Jon was once again engulfed inside the Being. His heart raced, and it was difficult to breath again, but it didn’t matter. Another feeling spread over Jon. He felt his legs start to press together. He looked down,but his pecs were inflating and he couldn’t see over them. He felt his titanium hard arms being pressed outward by his expanding triceps and lats. He cocked his head and felt his traps.

When Steve got to the mirror, he snapped his arms up into a double bicep. ”BOOM!” his 24+ cannons exploded.

Jon’s did the same., their motions synchronized Two mountains of shredded show muscle flexed hard. Jon grinned and flexed even harder, feeling Steve’s size mix with Greg’s dense power. Jon felt his body growing, his strong, hard muscles thickening with new size and even greater power. Veins appeared under his skin as he demanded his muscle to contract harder and harder. In unison, both men moved an arm to their lips and kissed it, but Jon could tell… his was bigger and harder than Steve’s.

The two moved liked synchronized swimmers, matching each motion, into a crab most muscular. DAMN, Steve was in awe of his huge size, but for Jon, it was two Incredible Hulks challenging each other. Their traps rose high. Their pecs ripped with power. Their abs flexed into solid bricks. Their lats wide as eagle’s wings. And for all Steve’s size, Jon was bigger. He flexed harder, his body tensing from granite to diamond. Jon felt it, and it was good because he felt strong.

Steve turned to the side, flexed his abs, bent his arm and powered his 58 inch chest. Jon hit the same pose, feeling muscle pressing into muscle, bicep into pecs, triceps into lats. He flexed his glutes and hams as he bent his legs. ”Fucking huge!”

Steve turned toward the mirror, and flexed his legs, checking out his pump. Jon flexed his legs, feeling the power as his quads ripped into thick bands, his hams pressing back and his glutes formed round balls. His thick pillars pressed into each fighting, muscle fighting muscle for space to flex and show their size.

Steve nodded at his reflection, then turned, walking naked toward the steam room. With each step, his muscle rippled, a human tank of unstoppable size and power.

The Being withdrew from Jon. Jon’s eyes adapted again, but the Being looked smaller. His massive form now resembled a gymnast more than a body builder. ”What happened?”

‘Good,’ the being transmitted. ’Not constrained any more.’

Jon ran his hands over his body. ”God, it feels so good.” He touched his hairy chest, the dense muscle fighting his fingers. He abs were ripped even unflexed, and when flexed, felt harder than bricks. He brushed his balls as he ran his hands over this wheels. ”Fucking superman!”

Jon turned to the Being, and felt strange. Outside, in the locker room, several men came in. They moved faster and faster, becoming a blur that Jon could barely see. Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

“What was that?”

‘They stay in there for a while. Coming out now. The next.’

“What? Who?” but as Jon said it, the steam room door opened. Ron came out, a towel over his shoulder. His lithe body covered by beads of water, but Jon wasn’t looking at that. Between two long, toned legs was a thick, semi-hard elephant truck and pendulated back and forth between each thigh, slapping almost down to the stud’s knees. The Rod was half again longer soft than Jon was hard.

Before Jon could respond, the Being engulfed him again. Instantly visions filled his mind. Ron sitting in the steam room. Kyle approaching, naked, his six foot seven frame towering over the sitting man, his 6 soft inches exposed. Kyle’s cock in little time grew to it’s full nine inches, challenging Ron’s soft 9 to a sword fight. Ron’s cock accepted the challenge. Kyle flexing, biceps, pecs, lats and legs worshipped by Ron, his dick inches longer and half again as thick as Kyle’s. Kyle rubbing the inferior sword, flexing and his size being worshipped by the less muscular but better hung stud. Then Steve came in. He flexed, huge muscle coming to life, dominating the taller man. Ron’s dick fought to explode as Steve’s tank like body overwhelmed Kyle’s with flexed and rippled power. Ron’s mind was in overdrive dominated by two muscle gods yet he continued to dominate with his unbeaten cock. The robust explosion culminated his submission to their power by draining his balls into the towel now on his shoulder.

Jon’s own cock grew with excitement as Ron’s memory flashed in his mind. Again, he felt different. His manhood started to grow, but didn’t stop. His cock lifted, the heft being pulled down by gravity while his muscle tone demanded it to rise.

Ron checked himself out in the mirror, taking his organ in his hand. Jon did the same, feeling his 9 inch thick double-digiter getting harder.

“Damn, him too?” Jon wrapped two hands around his length, but there was room for two more, at least. Jon groaned, stroking his length and feeling his fingers spread apart by his girth. He flexed his groin, his cock becoming as hard as the rest of his body.

‘Virile. The size of a man.’

The door opened again, and Steve and Kyle came out. Steve smiled at Ron’s display, bounced his pecs, and headed to the shower, making sure to flex his shredded glutes with each step. Ron’s eyes were transfixed on the man’s massive size, his eyes scanning from the top of his thick back down to his round glutes until he noticed Kyle. walking over. The tall man’s cock was growing again and he turned to face the mirror while staring at Ron’s superior organ.

“Damn, love your size,” Kyle muttered.

Ron grinned. ”Love your huge body too, stud.”

Jon felt strange again. The world seemed to be morphing, growing smaller. Jon was looking down, staring at Ron’s dick like Kyle was. ”Such a turn on…” the three thought in unison. Now, Jon and Kyle seemed linked, and both men raised their arms into a double bicep pose. Kyle looked at himself in the mirror as Jon did the same, staring Kyle in the eye. Kyle nodded toward the showers and both Ron and he walked off.

The Being withdrew. It was now child-like. Small. Its body looked toned, but lacked the huge muscle it once had.

Jon looked down on it and started to feel sorry. That stopped, and a wave of happiness filled him. Jon felt something else. He felt constrained, like he was in a box that limited his motions.

The Being touched him. ’Yes. Now you understand. You freed me, for now.’ In his minds eye, he saw a huge man, broad shouldered with arms the size of bodybuilder’s legs and legs, ripped with muscle, the size of trees. The man was tall and hairy, with a manhood that would challenge and turn on any other person. The man was built like a tank, but a very tall one. And the man’s face was Jon’s.

“Me?”

‘You.’

Jon turned to look out the window, and saw time speed up again. Greg came into the locker room like the Flash, changed and left. So did others. Finally, he saw the kid at the desk come in and turn off the lights. The locker room was lit only by one bulb. ’You are now the biggest. Enjoy. I’ll be watching.’

Jon felt something, like he was being pushed away. He felt like he was floating in water, then pushed under. He couldn’t breath. He felt caught in a tide that pulled him along. Then it stopped. He was in the locker room. He was facing the mirror, his head at the same height as the top. His shoulders were so wide they seemed to stretch across the mirror.

“So that’s it?” He raised his arms into a double bicep, filling the view with his massive size. The sight of his body, the biggest body, turned him on and he felt his cock coming to life.

“Not yet,” he told his growing organ as he turned. He did a perfect butt-to-the-dirt squat, and grabbed one leg of a six foot bench that was behind him. He lifted it inches of the ground, straightened his arm then stood to his full height. ”Shit, this feels light!” He flexed his other bicep, and estimated it had to be 27 or 28 inches. He began to lose the fight he was having with his growing cock as his size and power became more apparent. The python began to rise, and he flexed his groin muscles, pushing blood into it so that it climbed up over his belly button, along this divide and met the underside of his pec’s cleavage. He slowly put the bench down, dropping it in the end. He faced the mirror one has time, raised his arms, putting his hands behind his head and flexed. Muscle fought with muscle as his ultra-shredded huge body

Jon walked to his locker, turned the lock and opened it. He pulled out his clothes. His shirt was at least 6 sizes too small, and his pants would never make it over his legs. Even his briefs looked tiny, and Jon was afraid of strangling his huge nuts. He tossed them in the trash.

Jon caught a glimpse of himself. He grinned. ”I could go out like this. Not sure if anyone could stop me, but…” He looked around the locker room. Steve was shorter than he was, but was closest to his current bulk. Kyle, on the other hand, was closest in height, and his clothes were also always a bit baggy. Jon walked over, and saw it had a key lock. He picked it up in his large hand, and looked at his forearm. He wiggled his fingers, watching the muscle ripple. He wrapped his fingers around the lock and started to squeeze. Jon wondered if he’d be strong enough as he slowly tightened his grip. His forearm looked so hot and hard, he squeezed harder and heard a crack, his fingers jerking in. A bit harder and it cracked louder. Jon wasn’t even trying hard. With a burst of his full strength, he squeezed, the lock disintegrating in his hand.

Jon looked at his fingers, making a fist and releasing it, his forearms swelling and relaxing. ”Damn.” He quickly removed the bolt and opened up the locker. He felt inside, and pulled out two pair of workout shorts and a shirt. ”No shirt,” he threw it back in, and fumbled with the shorts, tossing a damp pair into the locker. Jon heard something fall on the floor with a crack. He knelt down and picked up a plastic tape measure. He looked at it, then flexed his other arm, starting at tape. His pecs tensed a bit, then he relaxed an put the tape in the locker. ”Tomorrow.”

He took the pair of shorts and forced them over his legs, seams popping as the fabric stretched to accommodate his girth. He nodded, noting how they fit like a second skin, then walked out into the gym, pushing the fire escape door open and walking to his car.

Part 2

Jon missed the next day of work and the gym. He had no clothes that fit him anymore except for Kyle’s stolen shorts. He went on the internet and bought clothes, paying for 1 day shipping. He didn’t mind walking around nude at home, and he kept staring at himself in the mirror, amazed at his transformation. He bumped his head a number of times on doors until he learned to duck. For some of the smaller doors, he had to twist sideways, or his shoulders would get caught. The weights he had in his house to pump up were like feathers now. An old ez curl bar that he twisted into a prezel proved only a moderate challenge. With each realization of his size, his muscle mass or his power, his massive cock would grow and smack his washboard abs. Jon also learned his balls produced enough cum for him to shoot a dozen times a day and still be ready for more.

The first clothes to arrive was a track suit. He squeezed his arms into the sleeves and watched the fabric stretch to its limits. The suit hung loose over his abs, but his thick lats and beach ball sized pecs required him to zip it up only part way. He had to sinch the waist down while his legs filled ever part of the pants. Jon went commando, his massive balls creating a huge bulge and his python-like rod running down his right leg.

He walked into the shoe store barefoot and tried on a pair of 16 sneakers. They were too small. 17s fit him better. The clerk looked at the size on the box, then his eyes darted to the massive bulge in Jon’s pants. He blushed and his hand was visibly shaking when he gave Jon his change, never making eye-contact with the huge stud.

Jon’s next stop was the gym. He got there earlier than normal, and saw Greg in the parking lot. ”Hey Jon,” he said unsurprised at the man’s transformation.

“Hey. You’re early.” Greg opened the door and held it for the bigger man.

“Ya. Safety inspector had to shut the site down. You’re early too.”

Jon nodded and went into the locker room. He was confused why no one seemed to notice his transformation. He looked in the mirror and saw a shimmer. ’Fixed it,’ entered his mind.

Greg was opening his locker, and Jon went to his, pulling out a pair of workout shorts and a jock to hold his goods.

“Hey man, we haven’t worked out together in a while,” Greg said, ignoring Jon while they changed. ”Want me to put you through some paces,” Greg smiled, flexing his arm. ”Feeling really strong today and could use a witness as I crush some of those gym-maxes I’ve set.”

Jon pulled up his shorts, and saw Greg flexing his 20 incher into it’s renowned granite hardness. Jon looked at the mirror. ’Only appearance,’ shot through his mind. Jon smiled.

“Sure man,” Jon squeezed his hand into a fist, flexing his forearms to their 20 inch size. ”Feeling pretty stoked myself today.” Jon got a cocky grin on his face as he thought about testing his strength against the strongman.

“Cool. Arms then?” Greg slapped Jon on the back hard. It made a loud smack, but Jon didn’t budge.

Jon grabbed a beater and pulled it over his herculean torso, noting a mild look of surprise on Greg’s face. ”Ready?” Jon asked, slapping Greg back, holding back only a little on his strength. Greg took a stumbled step forward, the look of surprise heavier on his face.

Jon’s smirk grew and he felt a huge rush of cocky self-confidence. He started walking toward the door to the gym. As he opened it, Kyle ran into him, literally bouncing off Jon’s powerful body.

“Whoa!” Kyle said, looking up into Jon’s face. ”Big man, they’re going to need to make larger doors for you!” Kyle laughed. He was used to towering over other men, dominating them with his height and size. Being this close to a larger man made him a bit uncomfortable.

Jon looked down on Kyle, amazed at how skinny he looked. Behind him was Steve. ”Ya, us guys with real mass always have problems with the width of door. Even skinny guys like Jon.”

Jon raised an eyebrow at the little tank. ”See you on the floor, Steve,” he said, pressing past both men. Greg followed, both men walking over to the dumbells.

Greg grabbed a pair of hundred pounders. ”Warm-up?”

“Sure,” Jon replied. ”Bit light, but why not.”

Greg started, alternating arms as he curled the weights. At fifteen, he stopped.

Jon too alternated the weights. They felt like nothing, but the feeling of blood flowing into his muscles excited him. At fifteen, he kept going, speeding up, staring straight into Greg’s eyes. At twenty-five, he stopped, putting the weights back.

“So that’s how you want it?” Greg said, grabbing the 150s. He started his set.

Jon grinned, and walked over to the 160s. Grabbing them, he started his second set. He felt energized, his powerful body getting pumped.

Greg watched, as Jon methodically lifted, keeping time with Greg. Greg had 5 reps on Jon, and demanded his strong arms move the weight. Greg’s shredded biceps throbbed larger with power with each rep.

Jon stared at Greg, matching him. The bigger weights felt like nothing, his own arms swelling with power.

At 15, Greg started to slow, but Jon kept the pace. At 20, Greg put the weights down. Jon continued, 16, 17, 18, never slowing. He stopped at 25, and smiled at Greg. ”Looks like that’s how I want it,” Jon finally replied.

“Game on,” said Greg, grabbing 175s. ”Remember, the gym record is 215 for 6, and it’s mine.”

Jon grabbed the 180s. ”Game on.”

Kyle and Steve were several yards away doing bench presses. Kyle got off the bench, his warm-up with 3 plates done. He moved around to put a fourth one on for Steve, noticing Greg and Jon out of the corner of his eye. Steve easily lifted the bar, slowly lowering the bar to his swelling chest, Kyle spotting him but getting distracted by the brewing battle of the powerhouses taking place.

Jon and Greg did rep after rep, challenging each other. Greg stopped at fifteen reps, but Jon did twenty. Greg rubbed his left bicep, forcing blood into it, helping it to recover. He wasn’t going to let Jon dethrone him. Greg was the undisputed strong man.

Jon just looked at him. ”Let me know when you want to start the real workout and give up on these warm-ups,” he said with a smirk. Jon was feeling a huge rush exercising his new body, getting swole, feeling the pump and experiencing the rush of lifting super-heavy weights. And best of all, he loved the knowledge he was stronger than Greg.

Greg grabbed 200s. ”This is my workout weight,” he said. Jon cocked his head, grinned and grabbed the same.

Kyle was now doing his set, and it was Steve who was distracted by Jon and Greg’s power war. Jon worked bis with the huge weight, and watching Greg surpass his maxes was always a turn on. Seeing Jon pushing Greg was new. Jon looked massive and thick, but Jon was taller than Kyle and Steve knew Greg’s shorter stature gave him an advantage.

Greg and Jon counted reps. Greg was working hard, a small layer of sweat developing on his body. He gritted his teeth at the eighth rep, seeing Jon going for nine. He forced it out, feeling his muscle object to the strain. Jon started a tenth. Greg ignored his muscle’s objections, slowly raising the weight. Jon thought about continuing, but not yet. He put the weights down, and so did Greg.

“Good work,” he said to Greg. Greg was breathing hard, and nodded. His arms felt the strain of being pushed. ”That was ten, let’s add some weight. Five or ten more pounds?”

Greg rubbed his pumped bis. ”Ten,” he said confidently. ”The way we’re going, I’m going to break my record.”

Jon just nodded and grabbed the weight. Staring into Greg’s eyes, they started to curl. Greg demanded his muscle work. On the seventh rep, he grunted loudly. On the eighth, even louder. On the ninth, his biceps were on fire. The tenth rep was slow, gravity fighting him. He needed to cheat, but he got it. The weights slammed to the ground.

“Fuck!” Greg cried.

Jon’s set was easier. No screaming or grunting, just the deliberate motion of muscle over weight. He was getting pumped, but knew he was capable of a lot more. As he watched Greg struggle for ten, he quickly did twelve reps before replacing the weights.

“Might as well do the 225s. May even get 230,” Greg said. ”You’re one strong SOB. This is a great workout.” Greg flexed his bi hard. ”The strongest is getting even stronger!”

Jon flexed his arm next to Greg’s, deep striations appearing in the muscle. Jon’s bigger muscle looked harder than Greg’s.

“You’re huge, man,” said Greg, “but not stronger than these beasts.”

“I’m keeping up with you,” Jon replied.

“So far, but I’m just getting started.”

“Why don’t we just cut to the chase and do this directly, mano-a-mano.” Jon walked toward a bench near Steve and Kyle. Jon knelt on one knee, placing his elbow on the bench and flexing his fingers, his huge forearm pulsing with anticipation.

Greg laughed. ”It’s your funeral, man.” Greg positioned his arm.

Kyle and Steve stopped their workout to watch. Jon looked so confident.

“I’ll ref,” said Kyle, walking over and grabbing the men’s clenched hands, their fingers twisting for the best grip. ”On three. One… two… three…”

Greg squeezed Jon’s hand with a grip that could dent metal. Veins throbbed on his arm, powering his unbeaten muscle. He felt his muscles contract hard, his granite body oozing with power and strength.

Jon’s arm didn’t budge. Greg stared him in the eye and pressed hard, throwing his full muscle into the fight.

Nothing.

Jon smiled. ”Figuring it out, huh? You’re strong and were number one.” Jon squeezed Greg’s hand, returning his powerful grip with one stronger.

Greg winced.

“You work out with 200. Think I’ll need 250.” Jon flexed his wrist, causing Greg’s to bend backward. Jon smiled. He pressed into Greg’s arm, taking it halfway down then stopped. ”They say it’s easier when the wrist is bent.” Jon let Greg’s arm come back to neutral, totally controlling the powerhouse. He let Greg’s wrist return to neutral. ”Don’t want to be accused of cheating.” Jon pressed into Greg’s arm, slowly lowering it.

Greg’s face was red. His whole body was shaking as he demanded more and more strength. Jon’s grip crushed into his hand, and he felt his own fail. He hardened his wrist, only to feel his might crack and his wrist bend backward. Superior might forced his arm down, then allowed it back up again. Now he felt Jon’s power again. ”No!” he hissed, redoubling his effort. Sweat began to bead on his head.

Jon watched as he took Greg’s arm past the half way point, then three-quarters of the way down. An inch from the table, their hands stopped. Sweat poured from Greg’s forehead, the strain evident on his face. In his eyes, the realization that he was now number two.

“Yes,” said Jon, slamming Greg’s arm down, holding it there for a second to make the point, then let it go.

“Holy fuck!” said Kyle. ”You made that look easy.”

Jon walked to the dumbells, and grabbed a couple of 260s. He turned toward Kyle, making sure he, Greg and Steve were watching him. He started doing reps, getting a workout for the first time today. He did seven, and struggled a bit on the eighth. He put the weights back.

He walked back to Kyle, looked down into his eyes and said with total confidence, “It was easy.”

Greg walked away to the dumbells. He picked up the 260s, and couldn’t curl them even once.

Steve got a rush at Jon taking down Greg, but decided that the powerhouse needed to be put in his place. ”You might be strong,” bragged Steve, “but proportionally I’m still the biggest here.”

“Think so?” asked Jon.

Steve grabbed the base of his shirt and started to lift. ”Ya.” He pulled off his shirt, his unflexed ten pack shadowed by his massive pec shelf. His traps rose tall, and his shoulders made him look as wide as he was tall. He hit a most muscular pose, flexing his massive torso, barn door lats eclipsing everything behind him. His sequoia-sized legs shredded as he cocked his knee to display football-fat calves. ”Being short and massive has some advantages that you tall guys don’t have.”

“Pretty good,” said Jon, removing his own sweat-stained shirt. He hit his own crab. His shoulders appeared wider than Jon’s giant height. His own washboard looked like it could grind rocks into sand. His pecs were round and ripped, veins pulsing over them. His thick lats looked like airplane wings, while his legs and calves made Steve’s look thin. ”Why don’t we let Kyle decide? What do you think?”

Kyle was staring at Jon, but Jon’s question awoke him. His eyes darted to Jon, then Steve, then back to Jon.

Jon winked, then relaxed his pose, raising his arms into a mountainous double bicep, making sure his lats flared, pecs raised, abs and legs flexed. Steve did the same, but Jon flexed harder, making sure his dense power radiated from his body.

“Ah…” Kyle said, visibly shaking at the the site of Jon’s power. ”Steve, ah, I think… Fuck, Jon you’re a freak. Damn, what size! Beyond massive everywhere! And your waist. Shit, it looks so small and hard.”

Jon laughed. ”Guess that settles it.” He smacked Kyle on the back, flexing an arm in his face. ”Seems like you like this too!”

Steve didn’t look happy, but nodded to Jon. He scowled at Kyle. ”Guess I just need to work harder.”

“Us too,” said Jon, turning to Greg. ”Now let’s get back to our workout.”

From the squat rack, Ron had watched the whole thing from a safe distance. His mouth went dry when he saw Jon beat Greg. He visibly shuddered when he saw him look down on Kyle. And he nearly creamed himself when Jon and Steve had their flex-off. Ron tried to concentrate on his own workout, but his eyes kept looking toward Jon. Jon was now using bigger weights, but encouraging Greg to push himself. Kyle was doing the same to Steve, urging the little tank to pump bigger.

After about an hour, Ron finished his workout. He walked to the locker room, and his eye caught Jon’s. They nodded to each other.

The locker room was empty, and Ron lifted his shirt. He looked toward the mirror. He was definitely getting bigger. He pushed down his shorts as someone else came in.

“Hey big man, how’s the modeling going?” Jon asked.

“Did a shoot yesterday for Men’s health,” Ron said. Jon walked over to where Ron was and noticed that Ron had taken a deep breath, enjoying Jon’s musky, sweaty scent.

Jon smiled, then grabbed his sweaty shirt. ”I may need some help with this,” he said, lifting it up to his lats. He bent over, his head pointing to Ron so he could get a grip on the fabric. He felt Ron’s hands shaking as he pulled it over. ”Thanks,” he said, taking the shirt and tossing it on a bench. Jon lifted an arm, smelling his sweaty pit but making sure Ron could get a whiff too.

Ron turned, unable to speak. He grabbed a towel, then dropped his briefs, wrapping the towel quickly around his waist.

“Looks like your workouts are paying off. Got a pretty good pump going there.”

Ron turned toward Jon, and blushed. ”You too,” he said, but felt the effect of Jon’s presence and compliment on his pole. Jon noticed the towel tenting out from Ron’s size.

“Probably should lose the towel. That looks uncomfortable,” nodding to the huge bulge. With that, Jon dropped his own shorts.

Ron looked down, his eyes widening. The surprise at seeing the muscle god’s python startled him, and his own towel fell. Ron’s cock appeared to be a good nine inches of semi-hard meat, while Jon’s hung a good nine inches soft.

Jon took a step forward, and grabbed Ron’s dick, stroking it in his big hand. He felt it thicken and harden. ”How big does this thing get?”

Ron’s eyes were closed, a look of pleasure on his face. ”On a good day, a bit over twelve. Close to eight and a half thick. Damn, your hands feel good. C-c-c-an I?”

“Can you what? You into my size?”

“Fuck ya. So tall. Your muscle is incredible. And your strength.”

Jon squeezed Ron’s cock a bit harder, making the man moan. ”Go ahead. Feel anything you want, handsome.”

Ron reached down, and felt Jon’s organ. He was getting harder, and Ron felt Jon begin to rival his own size. When he felt Jon’s cock gain steel-hard status, he opened his eyes. Looking down, he saw that in this sword fight, he lost. ”Fuck! No one ever beat me before!”

Jon felt Ron’s cock flex with excitement. ”Looks like we both have a common problem here. What do you say we go over to my place and resolve the issues.” It wasn’t a question.

Ron nearly lost it. He turned, and put his shorts back on, manipulating his rod as best he could.

Jon did the same.

No word was spoken as the men stowed their stuff. They grabbed their gear and left together.


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