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Description A star alpha male has to take back his gym from a bully, except the only way is to grow himself bigger than the already monstrous interloper.

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Updated27 May 2014
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8 Parts tap bar to showtap bar to hide

Part 1

Chris pulled into the gym’s parking lot. His day had been long and rough, and he was looking forward to pumping heavy weights. The cab of his truck felt confining to his 270 pound body. His 18.5 inch arms rubbed against his barrel chest as he turned the wheel, parking in two spaces. He hated feeling cramped, and he knew his body needed the extra room to move comfortably.

When he stepped out of the truck, Chris saw a couple guys leaving the gym. He recognized them. They were serious lifters, coming to the gym every day and training for a couple hours. They thought they had nice bodies, about 220 pounds of ripped muscle, give or take. They were wimps. What they considered lifting heavy, Chris did for warm ups. Knowing that they were pushing themselves, trying to build muscle that Chris already had, push him to lift harder. This wash is buddy Mike’s gym, and Chris was the biggest, strongest mother in the place. That’s how he and his buddy liked it too.

As Chris walked past the two boys, he nodded, staring straight into the first’s eyes, then the second’s. He could see it. The jealousy. The envy of his power. Yeah, they wanted it, but they would never have it. Their envy fed Chris as he geared up for today’s lift.

The guy behind the desk greeted Chris as he walked past and into the locker room. His locker was in the back, but Chris wasted no time in stripping off his tshirt. He noticed the guys in the locker room catch glances at him as he strode to his locker. He heard one of the bigger guys whisper, “Shit, he’s even bigger than last time.”

‘Yeah,’ Chris thought, ‘but not big enough.’ He grabbed his gear from his back, and stripped out of his jeans. He always wore a jock, so he pulled his shorts over his tree trunk legs. His workout shirt was ripped. He was never able to keep them whole. His swollen pumped muscle always tore through, and it wasn’t worth restricting his growth just to keep a t-shirt pristine.

As Chris left the locker room, he saw his friend Joe walking in. Joe and the gym owner Mike were friend’s from youth and had gotten the weight lifting bug together. There had always been a friendly rivalry between Mike and Joe, and many of their friends referred to them as ”The Twins” since both had similar shapes, mass and lifts. Joe and Mike often tried to work out with Chris, hoping the big guy might give one of them the edge to finally surpass the other. “Hey Tank,” Joe extended his hand in greeting, calling Chris by the name he was known the gym. “Just startin’?”

Chris took Joe’s hand and shook. “Yeah, chest today,” Chris said. Joe was one of the bigger guys, and he and Chris sometimes worked out together. Joe couldn’t really keep up, but it allowed Chris to go as heavy as possible with a partner.

“I could really use your advice, man,” said Joe. “I’ve been stuck at 375 for three months. Just can’t seem to get these boys to do anymore. Mind if I work in with yeah?”

Chris laughed. “Well, I’ve been gettin under 480 for reps, but I guess I can find some time to help you out.”

Joe’s eye widened, and he slapped Chris on the chest. “Fuck, you are one big boy, Tank,” he said. “I’ll change and join you,” Joe said@, rushing to the locker room.

Chris walked over to a couple of the power racks with benches. He loaded a bar up with four plates, got on the bench, and cranked out a set of 20 reps. “Too light,” he grunted as he put another couple of plates on. He was finishing another set of 20 when Joe came over.

“You’re a machine!” he said.

“Let’s put some real weight on this bar and I’ll show you what a real man can do,” Chris said. He put another two plates on as Joe got his bench set up with four plates.

Chris laid back down on the bench and started to lift. Joe stood by, ready to help, although he knew Chris could handle this weight with ease. Chris pumped out 13 steady reps, but began to slow at 14.”Wimping out, huh Tank?” Joe teased. Chris’s face turned red, forcing out two more reps. “Never!” cried Chris as he dropped the weight onto-the rack.

Joe grinned, and got under his bar. Chris moved to stand over him as Joe did his set. When he began to slow, Chris sneered. “Who’s the fucking wimp! You want a man’s chest like mine, you gotta work hard.” Joe strained, and eked out 15, but Chris had to help him put the bar back.

Chris grabbed four 10 pounders and upped the weight. “Don’t worry, I’m here to help you,” Joe joked.

“When I need the help of a runt like you to lift something this light,” Chris said, beginning his set. He had intended to do eight reps, but pushed out ten, slamming the weight into the rack as he finished.

“Fuck yeah!” he said, looking at Joe. But Joe was watching something else.

Chris turned, and looked in the direction Joe was looking. There were people working out, but nothing special. He could see the gym’s office, but the door was closed. Inside, he saw Mike, the owner. He seemed to be arguing with someone. He noticed Mike jerk backward, as if someone had pushed him, then Mike was pressed against the glass and lifted upwards.

“What’s up with that?” Chris said.

“Dunno,” said Joe. “Saw some new guy go in there and close the door. I saw Mike stand up, and then, well, …”

“I’ll be back,” said Chris, walking toward the office. With each step, he got more pissed. Whatever’s going on, it was interrupting his workout. Nothing interrupts Chris. Before he got to the office, some busty broad got in front of him.

“You don’t want to go in there,” she said. “My boyfriend is having a talk with the owner, and he wants some privacy.”

Chris took her arm, and gently but forcefully pushed her out of his way. “Yeah, whatever.” HE didn’t like manhandling women, especially babes like this one, but he was loosing workout time to deal with this boyfriend’. He knocked on the door, then slammed it opened.

Sure enough, there was some guy in there roughing up Mike. He had grabbed Mike by the shirt, and was holding him against the wall. Mike’s hands were pressing on the guy’s arm, but the man held him firm. The guy was wearing a tent-sized sweatshirt that draped over what appeared a large frame. He wore jeans that hugged squatter’s glutes and fit over his thighs and calves like a second skin. “Get the fuck out of here,” the guy said, not even turning to look at Chris.

“You gonna make me,” challenged Chris.

The guy twisted his head. He was good looking, but no A&F model. He gave Chris the once over. The guy snickered, then added, “I said to go away little man.”

Chris flexed his chest and took a step toward the guy. The guy responded by dropping Mike and turning to face Chris. “This isn’t any of your business,” the guy said.

“Mike, is it my business?” Chris asked.

“Tank, I…” Mike started, but Chris interrupted.

“See, Mike said it’s my business.” Chris now stood chest to chest with the guy. Chris had to admit that the guy was big, but he flexed his pecs in a show of his own superior size. The guy responded by bringing his big hands to Chris’s pecs and shoving. Hard. Chris resisted, but found himself taking a step back.

“Tank?” the guy chuckled at Chris’s nickname. “Dude, you may think your big,” he said as Chris regained his footing, “but you are way outclassed by me.” With that, the guy grabbed at the base of his tshirt and lifted slowly. Chris first noticed the man’s six pack. His waist must have been 34 inches, but it was thick with muscle. Ashe hefted the shirt over his pecs, his lats flexed wide like a stealth bomber. The guy pulled one arm out of his sleeve, then another, letting his chest relax as he casually dropped the shirt to the floor.

“Shit,” said Mike, whose eyes were darting back and forth between Chris and this guy.

“What are you? 220? 230 maybe?” he asked Chris.

“275. Plus,” said Chris, refusing to be intimidated.

“I’m a hard 295,” said the guy. “You are looking at a 56 inch chest,33 inch waist, and 21 inch guns. Cold. This is a tank’s body, not that skinny thing you got. So, leave me and this wimpy guy alone. We’re negotiating how much he’s gonna pay me to work out at this gym.”

“You may be big, but I’m the main man at this gym,” Chris said, lifting off his own shirt and flexing his own pecs. “You wanna take on this muscle, let’s go at it, wimp.”

“Tank,” Mike said, trying to intervene, “it’s OK. I’ll”

“Fuck it’s not OK,” said Chris. “Come on, wimp. Workin’ chest today. Liftin’ heavy. You think you can keep up with my muscle. Let’s rock and roll. All this talkin and huff’n and puff’n ain’t proven nothin’. The test of muscle is out there, not in here.”

The muscle head looked at Chris, then at Mike. “Yeah, maybe showing you boys what a real man can do will make my point.” He started toward the door, pushing Chris out of the way. He shoved hard, and even though Chris had braced himself, he was forced to step backwards out of the guys way.

As soon as they entered the gym, the guy’s girlfriend came running up to him. “Is this our new gym?” she asked, grabbing his arm.

“Soon babe,” he said, wrapping his huge arm around her and lifting her off the floor. “Gotta show these wimps what power is first.”

She sighed and smiled.

Chris ignored the display and walked to where he was working out. He took the small plates off, and replaced them with two more 45s. “500 here,” he said, lying down. He saw Joe, who was about to say something, but saw the determination in Chris’s face and the fire in his eyes and thought better of it.

The other guy had gone to Joe’s bench. He layed down, and Chris heard the weights clank as they left the rack and the guy began a set. Chris ignored him.

Chris grabbed the bar, then slowly lowered it to his chest. With determination, he forced the bar up. Chris forced thoughts of failure from his mind. The bar was light. He was strong. With perfect control, he did a second rep, then a third. His chest began to burn, but he ignored it. The pain fueled his determination. Four. Five. He heard people in the background, “Tank. Tank. TANK.” Six. Seven. His face was flushed red. His chest was on fire. He lowered the bar, and with a scream, raised it for his eighth rep. He made it look easy.

He sat up, and looked at the muscle head. His girl was counting as he pumped out reps at a feverish pace. “Thirty,” he heard her say, and the guy wasn’t stopping. He past forty with no problems, then, at fifty, casually put the bar on the rack. “Kinda light for a warm up,” he said, sitting up. His chest was covered with a fine mist of sweat that glistened in the florescent lights of the gym. “You done over there? That looks like a good weight for a warm up,” he said, getting up.

Chris stood up. A crowd had begun to gather around them, and he heard murmurs as they got their first good look of the new comer next to The Tank. The guy grabbed a towel from his girl, wiped his chest then wiped the bench. Laying down, he took a few deep breaths, then grabbed the bar. His control of the weight was perfect, and he seemed totally at ease as he cranked out rep after rep. He heard someone in the crowd start counting at 5. By his tenth rep, half the crowd was counting. When he reached fifteen, he casually put the bar down. He sat up, flexing his pecs hard, forcing veins and striations to appear on his herculean chest. “Yeah, better for a warm up,” he said, smiling. “Whatcha say to another two plates for the next set?”

Before Chris could reply, the guy stood up. He heard someone gasp, and another person mutter, “Look at the size of him.”

“Do it,” said Chris, his voice booming. “Whatever you can do, I can do better.”

Two of the lifters grabbed a couple of plates and put them on the bar.

“Doubt that,” said the new guy. “I could do this weight when I was 18. Shit, I benched 300 when I was 16. Don’t hurt yourself trying to keep up.”

Chris felt his heart beat faster. He prepared himself, placing his hands on the bar. He could do it. He knew he could. It was heavier than he had ever lifted, but fuck that. He was strong, and his power would prevail. He screamed and lifted. The bar jerked up, and Chris lowered it to his heaving pecs.

The weight felt like it could crush Chris. He tried to control it, but it was hard. He lowered the bar to his pecs, arched his back, and pressed. The bar went up slowly for the first rep. The second was harder, and the third nearly impossible. Chris thought of the arrogance of the muscle head, how he had threatened Mike, and how the bimbo had swooned all over him. He felt an adrenalin rush and pressed out a forth rep, then a fifth. The bar wobbled as he tried to control it, and barely got it to the rack after the sixth rep. Chris was breathing hard as he laid on the bench.

“That all you got?” asked the creep. “I guess that’s pretty good for a little guy like you, but get up and let me show you how it’s done.”

Chris began to move, but the guy grabbed his hand and yanked him off the bench. His girlfriend toweled down the equipment as the guy waited.

From the crowd Chris heard more whispers. “Shit, Tank is pumped.”

“Yeah, look at that swole.”

“Never seen him that big before.”

“The other guy is huge, do you think…”

“Tank’s unbeatable.”

“Is he?” Chris looked at the bar. Nearly 600 pounds. This guy can’t be that strong, can he?

The guy lay back. “Show them how it’s done, Ron,” the girlfriend said.

So now the creep had a name. Ron lifted the bar. He lowered it, totally under his control. She counted. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. He didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. He put the bar back. Sitting up, he said, “Now that’s a workout.” Again, he flexed his pecs hard.

“Fucking muscle monster,” he heard someone say. “Even makes Tank look small.”

“Put on another two plates,” Ron ordered. “That’s a good work out weight for me. Bit light, but I’m not really dressed for a heavy workout,” he said, taking the towel and wiping down the sweat in his pits. “You wanna try?” he asked Chris. “That last weight seemed a bit much for you.”

“Out of my way,” Chris ordered. He had butterflies in the pit of his stomach, but he had to do it. He was number one in this gym.

“OK, but I did do twice as many reps as you last time. I don’t think…”

“Shout up and let me lift,” said Chris.

Ron stood, and Chris laid down. He told himself he could do it. He took several deep breaths, grabbed the bar, and pressed with all his might. The bar didn’t move. He tried again. Nothing. He screamed, demanding all the strength he could muster. Still, the bar remained on the rack. He tried one last time, but the weight was too much. He sat up, defeated.

“Good try, little guy. But let me show you what these muscles can do.” Ron got on the bench. He prepared, then lifted. His tris looked like steel cables as the bar moved. It had so much weight it seemed to sag, but Ron had total control. He lowered the bar to his chest, which seemed to grow to meet the metal. He raised the bar, his pecs swelling with blood. A vein protruded from his chest and pulsed with the beat of his heart. He cranked out a second rep, then a third. The crowd began to cheer for him to encourage him to do another, then another. After eight perfect reps, Ron put the bar back as easily as he had lifted it. He jumped off the bar and hit a crab pose, then turned into a side chest, showing the massive muscle that had just bested Chris.

Ron walked over to Mike. “Look’s like I got me a new gym,” he said, putting his massive arm on Mike’s shoulder. “And a new friend.” He said the word friend with an intonation that suggested more. Chris knew that Mike had access to ‘roids that he shared with his best customers, and Ron obviously knew that too. The muscle freak obviously had plans to get bigger, and he wanted Mike to help him.

“Yeah, guess so,” said Mike, a certain sadness in his voice.

Joe and some of the others went to talk to Ron, asking him advice in a congratulatory way that displayed their obvious jealousy and envy at his size. Mike tried to get away, but Chris could see Ron grabbing his friend’s shoulder tightly, sending the clear message ‘you’ll leave when I let you leave.’

Chris went back to his workout. He moved to a cable machine, and began to do cross-overs, taking out his frustration on the machine. He was lifting heavy, and the pain from his sore muscles and his anger only caused him to lift harder. He barely noticed when Ron came over to where he was working out.

“I’m gonna work in,” he announced as Chris finished a grueling set. Chris had just dropped the cables when Ron shoved him out of the way. He grabbed the cables, and yanked them hard. Ron’s chest exploded into ripped muscle. He did a second rep, then growled, “Damn, I knew this would be too light for me!”

“Fuck you,” said Chris.

“You and what army,” Ron said, doing reps faster now. He did a set of 15, then intentionally dropped the weights with a loud crash. People turned to look.

In a loud voice, Ron announced, “I gave you your warning. This is MY gym now, so don’t go fucking pissing me off.” He slammed a pointed finger into Chris’s swollen pec.

Chris quickly grabbed the finger. “Don’t fuck with me,” he said.

Ron grabbed Chris’s arm and squeezed, pulling his finger free. “No, it is you that doesn’t fuck with me, runt.” Chris tried to move his arm, but Ron’s gun flexed and contained Chris’s might. “I’ve destroyed little guys like you before, and I’ll do it to you too. You better just get use to being number two here. Get me too pissed off, and I’ll help that dude Joe grow huge. Not as freaky as me, but he’ll make you look skinny, you can be damn sure about that. Keep pissing me off, and no gym in this city will let you train there. Fuck, you’ll be lucky if bowflex will let you buy their shit.”

Ron pulled Chris’s arm down, and stepped forward, pressing his sweaty chest into Chris’s. Ron flexed his torso, making his body warm steel. He stared straight into Chris’s eyes, his breath filling Chris’s nostrils. “Understand?”

Chris stared at him, then spit directly into his face. Before he could back away, Ron pushed him hard forcing him to step back and trip. Chris landed hard on the floor.

“Just for that, you can forget any help Mike has been getting for you. You’re cut off. I’m Mike’s new best friend, and I’ll decide who gets what from him.” Ron wiped the spit from his face, and went to Mike’s office.

Joe came over, offering a hand to help Chris up. Chris batted it away and stood up on his own.

“Shit man, what did you do to piss him off?” Joe asked.

“Existed,” said Chris, who headed toward the locker room. As he did, he saw Ron go over to talk to Joe, putting his arm around Joe’s shoulder as if the he had just found a new friend.

Chris undressed and went to shower. When he got out, Ron was in the locker room. He was putting something into a duffle bag, and Chris recognized the vials as roids. Ron turned, and smiled at Chris. “That Mike is a good guy. Couldn’t wait to give me his best stuff to help me get bigger. Said it was for some loser, but after seeing how big I was, he needed to help me get even more freaky than I am.” Ron flexed his arms into a double bi, raised them high, then turning his head, kissed one peak, then the other.

Chris said nothing, his anger building. He dropped his towel, and reached for a jock. He heard Ron laugh.

“Shit dude, you’re small all over,” he said. Chris turned to Ron, who had shed his jeans and had a towel draped over his cannonball shoulders. Ron hefted the sausage that hung between his legs. At first, Chris thought Ron was sporting a hard-on, then he noticed how soft it was. ‘Shit,’ he thought, ‘this guy is bigger soft than I am hard!’ Chris clenched his fists as his anger grew toward this new asshole. “If your girlfriend ever gets tired of boys and wants someone who is a man everywhere, let me know. Tif doesn’t mind me playing around a little. Shit, she even plays with me. Loves to hear the other babes scream as I plow them with my big nine and a half inches.” Ron headed to the showers.

Chris had had enough. He pulled back and slammed his fist into a locker, denting the door so much that the lock broke. He heard Ron laugh, which only made him want to lay a few of his punches into the scumbags face. Instead, he pulled his pants on, grabbed his shirt and went into Mike’s office.

When Chris got in, Mike jumped up with a startled look. “Shit,” he said, “no one saw you did they.”

“What the fuck?” asked Chris.

“Ron or his girlfriend,” Mike closed and locked the door, “they didn’t see you come in here?”

Chris’s eyes narrowed, and Mike closed the shades. “Think she’s talking to some girls. The jerk wad is in the shower.”

“Good,” said Mike, relaxing a bit.

“So what’s this giving him roids. They weren’t mine, were they?”

“I told them they were, but no,” Mike opened a drawer and handed Chris some vials. “This is the good stuff. Shit Tank, you gotta help me. I’ve heard of this guy. He goes around from gym to gym, drives the clients away and takes the owners to the cleaners keeping him supplied. HGH, Dibol, you name it.”

“Fucker threatened me,” Chris said.

“Yeah, that’s what he does. Anyone he thinks might be able to take him on, he goes after them. First, he gets them cut off. Then he forces them out. One by one, he drives all the big guys away. The little guys go next. Shit, like they have a chance against him. When the gym folds, he goes on to the next one.” Mike shook his head.

“So what d’ya give him if I got the good stuff?” Chris asked.

“Half strength. Put a false label on it. Heard his old gym folded, and took that as a precaution. Tank, I know you wanted to grow.”

“Never big enough,” Chris interrupted.

“Well, I’m here for yeah. You’re the only one who can put that freak in his place.”

“May need some more stuff. Better if you can get it,” Chris said.

“Anything,” said Mike.

Chris nodded his head, stood, opened the door and walked out.

Part 2

For the next week, Chris’s time at the gym began to change. He seemed to get less attention, as the other people’s attention turned to Ron, who had acquired the nickname ‘Kastet’, or Kas for short.

“It’s an anti-tank missile,” some geek had said, trying to get into the big man good graces. “The way you destroyed Tank, man…”

Ron chuckled at hearing this. He flexed his right arm in the dweeb’s face, pointed to the huge bicep and said, “These are the only missiles I needed to destroy that runt.” The guy nearly creamed his pants right there, and had to run into the locker room before he embarrassed himself anymore.

It didn’t matter, though, the nickname stuck. Every time Chris heard someone talk about Kas, he felt a deep anger in the pit of his stomach. It drove him to work harder, lift heavier. He’d show these fools what a determined muscleman could do. He was determined to crush Ron.

Kas made it a point to laud his strength over Chris whenever he saw them. If Chris were doing barbell curls with 135, Ron would do 170. If Chris were squatting 600, Ron would do 800.

Chris was juicing and eating to an extreme, and it was showing. His sessions in the gym were intense, driven by Kas’s assholish attitude toward him and his own desire to be the best. He could tell it was paying off, as he noticed Ron’s workout’s lacking a certain intensity.

Unfortunately, Ron noticed it too.

Chris showed up late for his workout, and Mike greeted him at the door. Ron’s eye was swollen shut, and he had a huge black and blue mark on his arm in the shape of a hand.

“Sorry Tank,” he said. “You can’t work out now. Kas is in there and…”

“Fuck that,” said Chris, trying to push by, but Mike stopped him.

“He knows.”

“The asshole did this to you,” Chris said matter of factly. Mike just nodded. “Let me in. I’ll kill him.”

“Tank, he’s too strong. He had the juice I gave him tested. He found out it was only half strength. He came into my office totally crazed. He said he noticed how hard you’d been working out, and knew you had the real stuff. That’s when he started whaling on me, saying nobody takes his muscle from him without experiencing pain. A couple guys tried to stop them and he tossed them aside like they were nothing. Said they’d be next if he didn’t leave us alone. He tore my office apart and found the real stash. He took it all. I saw him shooting up in the locker room. That’s when he ordered me to bar you from the gym. Said if he every saw you come around again, there’d be real trouble. Then he headed to the gym, saying he had to make up for lost time. Tank, he’s attacking the weights like I’ve never seen. Please, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Fuck him. I gotta lift,” said Chris, looking inside and seeing Ron doing leg presses with what looked to be over 1200lbs.

“Look,” said Mike, grabbing Chris’s arm and leading him away from the window. “Can you come back around 9? Kaz—”

Chris snarled. “His name is Ron,” he said sternly.

“OK,” said Mike. “Ron is always gone by then. I’ll close the gym and you can work out then.”

Chris thought about it. “He took my juice, right?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got something. He doesn’t know about it. Experimental. I’ll tell you about it later. Tank, I need you to work with me. Ka… I mean Ron is too much for anyone else. He’s afraid of you. He knows you have the potential to crush him. I’ll help you if you help me. Please.” Mike seemed to be begging.

“OK, I’ll be back,” Chris said, knowing that it won’t be Mike who will be the one begging, but Ron.

When Chris showed up, the gym was locked. He pounded on the door, and Mike came and unlocked it. He seemed skittish, like he was worried. Chris pushed his way in. He needed to lift. The delay had only intensified his desire to pump and pump hard.

“He just left,” said Mike. “I hope he didn’t see you.”

“Fuck ‘em,” said Chris, making his way to the locker room. He walked to his normal locker, and saw the door ripped off. “What the fuck!”

“It was Kas. He was looking for your juice.”

Chris lifted a pair of torn shorts from the floor. His jock was missing. “He needed to take my jock? Maybe the queer wanted to sniff it or something.”

“Ignore that for now,” said Mike, handing him two vials.

“What’s this?” said Chris.

“Juice. No, super-juice. New stuff. A hybrid. Think of it as caffeine plus T times 10. The stuff is suppose to increase the intensity of your workout and promote muscle growth. It also blocks some hormone or something that keeps guys small.”

“I’m not small,” said Chris.

“No, I mean, it breaks plateaus or something. Basically, it enhances everything you got and decreases everything that stops you from getting there. Suppose to make you eat like a horse too,” said Mike.

“I do that now,” said Chris, changing into his shorts and workout shirt.

“Not like with this stuff. The other vial is HGH. It intensifies the effects of the other drug. I figure, in a couple months, Kas…”

“Ron,” snarled Chris.

“Yeah, him, you’ll be way stronger than he can imagine.”

Chris looked at vial. He filled a syringe, pulled down his pants, and stuck it into his glutes. The substance burned, but Chris knew the pain only made you stronger.

Chris pulled his pants up and headed toward the gym with determination. When he got to the door, he felt a moment of light headedness. He slowed, then felt his heart beating fast. He felt anxious. Energized. When he continued forward, he was focused like never before.

In the gym, he grabbed a couple of 50 pound dumbbells. With deliberate determination, he raised and lowered the weight, squeezing his 18 inch bi with each rep. When Chris completed the set, he could barely wait to start the next. He picked up a pair of 65s, and cranked out a set of 12. For his workout, Chris used 70s. After the dumbbell curls, he did a 4 sets of Scott curls, then 4 sets of barbell curls.

“Damn, you’re a machine today,” said Mike.

“Whatever that stuff is,” said Chris, “it’s great. I’m not even tired, but look at this pump. Totally swole!” Chris raised his arms into a double bi, and checked out their size in the mirror. “Looks like 19 or more with this pump.”

“Yeah, but Ron is over 22 cold now.”

“Fuck him,” said Chris, grabbing the barbell and squeezing out another set. “I’ll pump these muthers to 24 then.”

Tank was like an uncontrolled animal. He walked to the cable machine, and began a set of curls. “Don’t wreck the machine,” Mike joked as he watched Chris crush out rep after rep.

“If it can’t take my power, it deserves to be wrecked,” said Chris, flexing his arm. “Gotta be over 20 now. Shit, I’m stoked. Get me a protein shake. All this lift’n’s making me hungry.”

As Mike walked away, Chris jumped and grabbed a chin up bar. He hoisted his nearly 280lb mass up and down, flexing his bis with each rep ashe did rep after rep. When Mike came back, Chris had just counted out 50 and let go. He grabbed the shake and chugged it down.

Chris looked at the clock. It was nearly midnight. He was covered in sweat and could only imagine what he smelled like. “Damn. Have I been lifting for three hours?”

“Like a beast,” Mike said. “I’ve never seen you so focused. Shit, I’ve never seen anyone work out like that before. You keep that up, fuck, I can’t even guess how huge you’ll get!”

Chris said nothing. He just nodded and walked into the locker room. He stripped off his sweaty clothes and put them in his gym bag. Walking to the shower, he appraised his physique in the mirror. His powerful shoulders and arms and rock solid waist, massive pecs and thick lats. His legs were tree trunks and his cock and balls hung like a bull’s between them. Yeah, he was a super man on his way to be a superior man. “Fucking crush that Kas.”

Chris got home at 12:30. He was starved. He walked past his computer on the way to the kitchen, stopping only to start his mail program.

“One new message,” flashed on the screen.

Chris grabbed a chicken breast, and pressed the command to read the message. His anger flared with the from line displayed the name “Tank Killer”. Inside the message is a video. Chris plays it.

Windows media player springs up and loads the file. Chris sees a hand, then a powerfully muscled back walking from the camera. Ron turns around, wearing nothing but Chris’s jockstrap. “Hey runt,” he says. “Figured since your days of liftin are now over,” he stressed the word ‘over’, “you won’t be needin this anymore.” Ron put his fingers in the waistband and snapped it into his firm abs. “Have to admit, it’s kinda small.” He turned sideways and showed how his nuts barely fit in the pouch. “Can’t really get my big boys in here, can I?”

A female voice off camera giggles and says, “You are one big boy.”

Ron smiles and signals for his girlfriend. She comes over and begins to fondle him through the jock as he kisses her and strokes her ample breasts. The jock begins to stretch and then he starts to tear it off as Ron’s monster cock hardens, allowing it to spring free. Ron rips the jock off his body and stands in front of the camera. “Gotta go fuck my babe with my big, hard muscle cock. Figure you can jerk off over my manly body just like my new buddy Joe likes to do. Figure I’ll train with him now that you are banned from every gym in the city. Have a good life, loser.” Ron flexes his arm and kisses his huge bicep, then the video ends.

Chris stares at the computer, chewing on the chicken breast. He swallows. He turns the computer off, and goes back to the kitchen for more food. “I’m gonna crush that asshole,” is all he says as he keep seating.

Part 3

The next month was a blur for Chris. First his routine was upset when he lost his job. He awoke after his grueling workout, and he was sore and famished. His muscles ached like he had never before worked out. It was a good ache. It was the kinda ache that meant he worked hard. He knew when he worked hard, he grew.

He went to the stove and started boiling water for oatmeal, then he went to the bathroom to take a piss. His stomach growled and empty growl, and he went back to make his breakfast. Each movement was a symphony of pain, a signal of the success of his workout. The reward for enduring the pain was strength, muscle and the respect and awe that came with them.

Chris made a huge bowl of oatmeal and a protein shake, and ate them so fast it was like he had never seen food before. His stomach still growled, so he began to make a second bowl. While it cooked he showered. The hot water felt good as it splashed on his massive body, and he massaged his powerful form with his big hands. As he stepped out of the shower, he stopped and looked at himself in the mirror. He struck a double bicep and admitted his form. It was the form of the alpha man—big and powerful. He felt his cock twitch as he admired himself, secure in the knowledge that any woman would kill to be with him and any man would kill to be him.

He walked back to the kitchen and ate his second breakfast in less than half an hour. Mike had told him to take another injection, so he did. By the time he got dressed, he felt pumped for the day. He got into his truck and drove to work.

When he got there, he was met at the door by his boss and two security guards. His boss had a black eye, and he knew something was up.

“Sorry Chris, I can’t let you come in,” his boss said.

“Why? Wassup?” Chris tried to push past, but the guards stepped forward.

“Chris,” his boss’s voice cracked showing his fear, “I don’t want anymore trouble. I’ve got to let you go. I’ve got your stuff…”

“What do you mean trouble? What’s going on? What did I do?” Chris was getting agitated, and the two guards grabbed each of his arms. Immediately, their faces showed fear as they realized the size and power he had. He would have laughed at how pathetic they looked if the situation weren’t so serious.

“Chris, you’ve always been a good employee, and really, it isn’t you?”

“Did something happen?” Chris could tell from the guy’s face that something did. “Did a guy named Ron…” The manager jerked back, and he didn’t have to finish the question. Chris felt his blood pressure rise with anger. He looked at the box on the ground that had his stuff in it. Without a word, he bent down and picked it up, then turned and left. When he got to the truck, he started and began to mutter, “gonna fucking crush him.” He felt his shirt stretch and tighten as his muscles flexed in anger at what just happened.

Chris drove back to his house. His stomach was growling again. He dropped the box, then grabbed at his work shirt by the neck and pulled, ripping it off his body while screaming a primal scream. As the shirt ripped off, his torso flexed and he looked like the hulk coming to life. He stormed into kitchen and grabbed two cans of tuna, downed them with two glasses of water, then made another protein shake.

As he ate, his situation dawned on him. Ron was out to destroy him. He knew how to get big. A man needed to eat big and lift heavy. Ron thought he had taken the gym away from Chris, but that wasn’t enough for the asshole. Now, he had taken Chris’s job. It cost Chris hundreds of dollars a month to buy food, and with no job, his bank account would soon be sorely hurting. He spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what to do.

When he got to the gym that night, Mike picked up on his mood right away, and offered a solution. “Tank, he’s going after you to get to me. I’ve told you what he does. He uses gyms until they dry up, then he moves on. He needs this gym right now, and he needs me to get him the juice, so he’s destroying you.”

“That suppose to make me feel better,” Chris asks as he grabs a bar and starts to do some serious dead lifts.

“I won’t let that happen to you. I can’t! Look, I’ll put you on the payroll. I need you huge, man. I need you to destroy him.”

“Fuckin crush him,” Chris grunts, interrupting.

“What d’ya need. Five grand a month do you? You got it. The gym is free. The special juice is free. Shit man, anything you need.”

Chris finished the set. “You train me, pay for it, and I’ll fuckin turn that shit look like the little dwarf he is.” Chris extended his hand, and Mike took it. They had a deal.

Mike lived up to his end of the bargain, and so did Chris. Each day was like the first. Chris work up more sore than he had ever been. He spent his time eating and training. He changed his schedule so he could spend nearly all night in the gym lifting. He slept during the day.

After a week and a killer back work out, Chris was moving rather slow. “Tank, you look like you could use a back massage.”

“Fuck yeah,” Chris said, twisting and stretching his thick back. “Fucking full of knots back there.”

Mike signalled to a table. “Take off your clothes big guy. I’ll loosen those knots.”

Chris stipped down to his jock strap. He thought he saw Mike catching glimpses of him, but he knew Mike wasn’t that way. He laid on the table.

“Gonna need to a get a larger table for you,” Mike joked as he placed his hands on Chris’s traps. He squeezed. “Gettin’ really thick, but man, are you tight.”

“Feels good,” replied Chris. “Tryin’ to relax, but been lift’n real heavy.”

“It’s showing,” replied Mike, working his fist into Chris’s lat. He moved his hand to the groove leading to Chris’s spine, and said, “These wings are so thick, two fuckin fingers are vanishing in this divide.”

“Gonna fuckin destroy Ron,” Chris said, then added, “Man, that feels good.”

“You been tracking your progress?” Mike asked.

“Been gaining, if that’s what you mean.”

“Hard to tell,” said Mike. “To be honest, you’re looking more ripped.”

“Gained five pounds,” said Chris.

“You been measuring?”

“Not in the past couple weeks. So big, need someone to hold the tape. You wanna volunteer?”

“Gotta track your progress,” Mike said.

He continued to massage Chris’s back, and could feel Chris relaxing. When he finished, Chris lay there while Mike grabbed a tape. Chris sat up, a content look on his face. “Ready to be impressed,” he teased.

“Try me,” Mike challenged.

“Try this,” Chris said, slowly raising his arm then flexing hard. His bicep exploded with power, raising upward. He pushed his arm into Mike’s face, a wall of muscle size. Mike wrapped the tape around it, looking at the number. “Like my 19s?” he asked.

“No,” said Mike calmly. He dropped the tape, and looked at the scowl on Chris’s face. “I love your 20s big guy.”

“Yeah,” he slapped Mike in the chest. “That’s an inch in a week!”

“And from the look at the pump on your chest—”

“Don’t talk, measure!” said Chris, flexing his pecs and flaring his lats.

Mike wrapped the tape under Chris’s arm, around the thick muscle bellies of his pecs and the thickest part of his back.

“56, pumped,” Mike said. “But—” Mike added.

“But what?” Chris said. “Huge has no buts about it.”

“Look at your pecs. You’re ripped.” Mike made a fist and hit Chris’s pecs hard. “Hard as armor, Tank! You’ve never looked this good. Only person I’ve ever seen better…” Mike didn’t complete the statement.

“He’s dead meat!” cried Chris, “and you punch like a girl.” Chris laughed, bouncing his pecs. Then he stopped, and looked at Mike. “He growin this fast,” Chris said, flexing his powerful arm again and admiring the huge 20 inch peak. “Fast like this?”

“No, but he’s growing. Put on a couple pounds last week.”

“Yeah, but I’m gettin bigger. FUCK—LOOK AT ME! Check out these wheels,” Chris said, flexing his legs. Mike wrapped the tape around them, and announced measurement of 29, then moved the tape to Chris’s calves and announced a solid 17.

“Yep, you are huge,” said Mike. “And we’re gonna make you even huger.”

Chris nodded his agreement.

“Why don’t we catch a steam then get out of here,” said Mike, lifting off his shirt. Chris looked at both of them in the mirror. Mike was big and toned, but looked like a runt compared to Chris’s massive body. “Yeah,” Chris said, seeming to acknowledge Mike’s suggestion but really noting his agreement that things were as they should be. Chris was huge, and the other men were small. Yeah, that’s the way things should be.

Chris peeled off his sweaty jock strap and threw it in his bag. Turning, he walked buck naked into the steam room with Mike right behind him. They sat down, and Chris noticed Mike staring at him.

“Somethin wrong?” Chris asked.

Mike hesitated, then said, “Your cock. Uhmmm… I don’t…”

“What about it?” Chris said, looking down.

“Man, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, but, well, it always hang like that?” Mike said, acting kinda flustered.

“Like what?”

“I noticed it before, in your jock. Almost looked like you had a sock stuffed down there. And now, well, the way it’s hitting the bench. Never thought you were that big before, that’s all. You sportin a woody or something?”

“Been kinda horny I guess,” Chris said, “but you’re not my type.” Chris smiled at his joke.

“Sorry I brought it up,” said Mike, insulted.

“Hey bro, no problem. I dunno. I got a good 7 3/4 inches that drives the women crazy, but now that you mention it—”

“Hold on,” Mike said, getting up and walking out. He returned in a second with the tape. He threw it at Chris. “Go for it. You want some privacy?”

“Nah. If you ain’t seen a hard-on by now.” Chris started stroking. “Besides, you might learn somethin’.”

“Asshole,” Mike said, sitting down, but Chris noticed Mike’s cock starting to swell as he watched Chris jerkin.

“Fucking huge body,” Chris muttered as one hand jerked his dick into steely hardness and the other felt the weight of his pecs and hardness of his abs. “Man, you gotta measure me. Feels too good to stop. “Mike hesitated, then Chris growled, “Just do it!” Mike couldn’t resist the power of his command.

He walked over to Chris, his own hard-on sticking out like a divining-rod, grabbed the tape. Chris pushed his cock out as Mike ran it along the top, then let go and walked over to watch Chris finish his business.

When Chris was done, Mike asked, “Didn’t you say you were about 8?”

“Yeah, why?” Chris said, a bit out of breath after relieving more tension.

“You’re about 9 now. Just shy of it, actually.”

Chris’s eyes widened. “I’m fucking getting huge everywhere!” Chris said. “Man, that’s great! Turnin’ into fuckin superman!”

Mike looked at Chris in a strange way. “Hey, that gives me an idea,” he said. They walked out of the steam room, then over to a locker. “This is Kaz’s.” Mike unlocked it, then pulled out something that looked like a torture device. “Never knew what this was before, but saw Ron with a couple tens in here.” He handed it to Chris. “Does it fit over your cock?”

Chris tried, and put it on like it was some sort of jock strap with a chain suspended from his dick.

“Bet the jerk does some sorta dick curls with this or something. No wonder he keeps that bitch so happy,” Mike said

Chris began to get hard again. “Grab a five,” he said. Mike hung it from the chain, and it pulled Chris’s rod down. He began to flex, forcing the weight up. He eked out six. Mike could barely believe what he was seeing as his friend finished the last rep. “Take it off me,” Chris ordered Mike.

“Man I don’t know,” Mike objected.

“This isn’t about what you know,” Chris said. “It’s about making me grow. THAT MEANS ALL MY MUSCLES—Besides, you gotta track my progress, and that means getting an up close look.” Chris glared at Mike, “Now do it.”

Mike had no choice.

That was a month ago. Chris stood in front of Mike as Mike watched him do 12 reps at 30. His cock was now over eleven inches, and he loved the way Mike was shaking in his boots when he thought of what a powerful fuck Chris now was. His guns were now nearly 22 inches, his chest pushing 59, and his wheels were close to 34 inches around.

“Like what you see, little man,” Chris teased.

“You bet,” said Mike, moving to take the weight off the chain. He knew his place now. He removed the curl-device, freeing Chris’s monster cock which slammed into his abs and extended above his bellybutton. “Shit Tank, looks like you might be actually getting to big for this thing.”

“Has been feelin a bit tight I guess,” Chris said, smirking and flexing his cock in Mike’s face. “Just too damned big, but still not big enough. I’m bettin little Ronnie’s 10 inches is more like 9. We need a new one.”

Mike stared at Tank, his mouth growing dry. “Yeah,” he choked out. “Ah, guess so. I’ll go pick one up tomorrow.”

Looking at the mirror, Chris said, “Biggest man around, huh?”

“Soon,” said Mike. “Saw Kaz today. He’s up to 24 his arms and 61 on his chest. Even saw him using 30 on this thing today, and he did 15 reps.”

“We’re doing 35 next time,” announced Chris, his voice displaying a confidence that he could easily do that much.

“I figure in another week or so, you’ll outgrow him. In a month, you’ll crush him.” Mike said, taking off his clothes.

Chris stood, looking in the mirror, admiring his body, knowing that soon, he’d be even bigger. He looked to Mike, who also had a raging hardon, although it looked a lot smaller and thinner than Chris’s. Looking at them in the mirror, Chris thought Mike looked like a little boy compared to his man’s body.

Chris walked to the steam room, never looking at Mike. He opened the door, then sat down. “Look’s like you got a little problem there Mike.”

“Sorry,” Mike said.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” said Chris. “It happens to me. Got so much T running through me now, shit, I could go all night and never stop.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Mike said.

“Don’t know about you, but I gotta do something about this,” Chris said, grabbing his own throbbing organ. “Thinking about some nice hot pussy,” Chris’s words began to trail off.

Mike’s hand flew to his organ. “Man Tank, you’d rip her open!” he blurted out.

“Think so,” he asked softly, imagining a woman worshipping his powerful body.

“Dude, you’ve got an elephant’s dick there. You fuck her, and she’d probably scream like a banshee before passing out trying to take that meat of yours. And that’s only your cock. Shit, you’re 300 pounds on top of her, probably crush her with all that big muscle. And power, you’re stronger than almost every man in this place. You think a woman can handle that power?”

“Love to see her try,” Chris said, two hands now stroking his length faster and faster.

Mike tried to put both his hands on his cock, but he was too small. He watched Chris with envy, thinking his own hand could join Chris’s and there would still be hard, fat man-dick sticking out. “Fucking three hander,” he whispered softly, but not softly enough. Chris heard him.

“Yeah, can’t wait to test drive this big cock on a nice wet pussy. Her big breasts dripping cause she’s so fucking turned on by the big man that’s fucking her. Screaming. Thrusting hard into me. Me into her. Shit. Think about that.”

“God,” Mike said.

“Yeah. I’m a fucking god,” Chris agreed.

Mike watched Chris in awe, thinking about the huge man having his way with a woman. As he imagined it, he felt his balls pulling tight. He saw Chris’s huge nuts doing the same. Suddenly, Chris shot. Even though he was on the other side of the room, Chris’s explosion shot directly at Mike, hitting him in the chest. It stung like a paintball had exploded on him. His own inferior orgasm followed as Chris shot a second load, hitting Chris’s abs with the same potent force.

Chris opened his eyes. “Oh fuck,” he said, looking at Mike. “Sorry man!”

Mike didn’t say anything, and Chris couldn’t tell whether he was blushing or red from the hot steam. He got up, and came back with a towel, wiping himself off. Two red marks were clearly visible on his skin where Chris’s jism had slammed into him. A few minutes later, both got up, got dressed and left.

Part 4

Chris woke up late the next day. As he did his normal routine of cooking, eating and flexing, he noticed he was running low on food. It was a warm day, and the market was normally crowded with soccer moms. He pulled out a white wife beater and a pair of jeans. He hadn’t worn either in a month. The jeans stretched and seems ripped, unequipped to deal with thighs and calves as big as his. The waist of the jeans hung loose around the solid washboard Chris had developed. He grabbed a felt and pulled it tight, noticing that it was two notches thinner than the last time he had used it. He had trouble pulling the shirt over his massive chest, and the material began to rip under each of his arms as it tried to contain his overpowering form.

He grinned and nodded his approval. “Give them a thrill,” he thought. He was right. As he made his way from vegetables to meats to juices, dairy and fish, he noticed the woman staring. Conversations stopped as he came into view, and a few of the women even pointed or gasped openly. “What a man!”, “god”, and the seductive smile all accompanied Chris as he made his way around the store.

“Tank?” he heard someone say as he was picking up some canned goods. He turned. A young blonde woman in a tube top and white shorts was looking at him. She looked familiar. “I thought that was you. I’m Amy. Joe’s girlfriend.”

“Oh. Hi.”

Amy smiled at him, but her eyes weren’t looking into his. Instead, they were darting from his arms to his pecs, then down his waist and stopping at his crotch. Her eyes seemed to widen as she tried to take him all in.

“Uhm… Anything new?” She finally asked. “Joey hasn’t said much about you recently.”

“Haven’t seen him in about a month,” Chris said. Amy was attracted enough, but he didn’t want Joe to know he was still around.

“Yeah, all he talks about is his training partner Kaz. It’s Kaz this and Kaz that and how big Kaz is and how strong Kaz is and how Kaz is helping him get huge.”

“Yeah, well, I gotta be going,” said Chris, trying to cut the encounter short.

“Oh me too,” said Amy and headed for the check out, getting in line in front of Chris. “I don’t know who the guy is,” Amy continued, “buthe’s really helping Joey. He’s put on a lot of muscle. Keeps bragging that Mike is beginning to look small next to him. Well, Joey’s got help,” and she winked at him, “but, well, you certainly know how it is. You know this Kaz?”

“Name’s Ron,” Chris said, finally able to get a word in.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure he can’t hold a candle to you,” Amy said. Then, more seductively, “You are one big boy.” Looking toward his crotch, she continued, “All over.”

“Yeah,” said Chris. Amy was interrupted by the check out clerk who was ringing up her bill. As the clerk packed her bags, Amy asked if they had any boxes. The packer left, and returned with a box, and put the bags in that.

“Oh, that’s so heavy. Tank, could I ask your help carrying it to my car.”

“Ma’ame, I’d be happy…” the bagger began.

“No. I’m sure Tank can help me. Please.”

There was something in the way she said ‘please.’ It was like she was begging. That she had some primal need that only Chris could fulfill. He was curious. “Sure.” The bagger put Chris’s bag on top of the others. Chris lifted the box with ease, and Amy put her hand over his bicep.

“Ooooo,” she cooed. “That’s so big and hard,” she said as she walked with him. “You know, I really have a thing for big, strong, muscular men. I don’t know that I’ve ever met anyone as big as you before. I mean, Joey is nice, but”

“He’s a runt,” Chris said.

“Well,” Amy said, “he’s got some good attributes.” Amy had parked next to Chris’s truck, and Chris put the box of groceries down.

“Strong?” Chris said, looking Amy over. He liked the way her ample chest filled out her tube top, and thought back to Mike’s comment’s the night before. Deciding to impress her, Chris walked over to his truck. “Can he do this?” Chris squatted down and grabbed the rear of his trunk. He’d lifted it before, but this time was different. It felt light and seemed pretty easy. He heard some rips, and suspect his flexed muscles were too much for his jeans and shirt. He turned as he heard Amy gasp. Her breathing was deep, her eyes wide.

“Your pants,” she gasped, finding it hard to speak.

Chris lowered the truck. “Don’t make pants big enough,” he said as he peeled off his beater and wiped his head with it.

“I can imagine. Your legs look so thick.”

“Wasn’t talking just about my legs,” Chris said, stepping forward to tower over her. He pressed his pecs into her breast, looked down at her and said, “And you don’t need to imagine if you don’t want. You may be Joe’s girl, but if you want to experience a real man, we can go back to my place.”

Amy blushed and actually began to shake a bit. “I’d like that,” she said, reaching her hand to where Chris’s pants had split and touching the exposed skin of his thigh.

In a fluid move, Chris whisked Amy up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he effortlessly carried her to the front of the truck, opened the passenger door, and put her in. He grabbed the groceries, stuck them in his truck, got in and began to drive.

Amy could barely wait. Her hands rubbed his arms and caressed his chest. She muttered about how “big” and “huge” and “strong” he was. When they stopped at a red light, she nearly crawled on top of him to kiss him, her tongue pressing into his mouth with such eager abandon he nearly missed the light changing back to green.

“Ever been blown while you drive?” she asked, moving her hand to his crotch. As she rubbed, she said, “feels like you got a nice big hard-one now that could use some relief.”

Chris laughed. “You’ll make it hard, but that’s me soft.”

She rubbed harder. “Soft? But it feels so big.”

“Gets bigger,” he said matter-of-factly.

Amy unbuttoned Chris’s jeans, then unzipped them. She moved her hand inside. “Damn your abs are hard,” she said as she found her target. She pulled, freeing Chris’s snake from the entrapment of the fabric.

“Oh god!” she said as she saw eight soft inches. “That’s soft?” she asked, moving her face lower. She kissed it, then put it in her mouth to measure it. “You’re almost as big as Joe is hard, and just as thick now.” She put her mouth on it again, messaging the meat with her lips and tongue. Within seconds, she began to gag as Chris’s organ came to life and swelled thick as a beer can and much longer. Amy’s mouth stretched wide open, trying to control it, her head being pressed into the ridge’s of Chris’s abs as the cock snaked upward. Finally, needing air, she gave up her attempts at control, and the raging hard-on smacked hard into Chris’s abs.

“It’s so hard,” she gasped, trying now to get her hands around it.

“Work all my muscles,” Chris said. “Even that one. But you’ll see soon enough. We’re here.” They pulled into the parking lot of Chris’s building. He tucked his meat away, zipped himself partway up, then got out. Walking over, he opened Amy’s door, scooped her up in his arms, closed and locked the truck, then carried her to his apartment. All the while, Amy’s hands rubbed Chris’s hard muscles, his high traps, thick delts, powerful bis and tris and armor-like pecs.

As soon as he put her down, Amy tore off her top, then moved to remove her shorts. There was a wet spot on her panties. “Do you like my body?” she said, as he walked over to Chris. She unzipped his pants, and began to pull them down. “I love yours. So huge. So strong. So ripped.”

Chris stepped out of his pants, and Amy stood up and took a step back. “Oh god.”

Chris smiled, and raised an arm, flexing his 22 inch cannon. He slowly moved into a crab, extending his leg and flexing his ripped quads and calves.

Amy watched the display, her hand moving to her crotch as she stroked herself.

“You got great breasts,” Chris said, moving closer to her and placing his big hand gently on one.

“38 double-D” she bragged.

“Mine are nearly sixty now,” Chris said as he knelt down and put his mouth against her lavia. He wrapped a single arm around her waist as he began to tongue her sensitive areas, then he stood up, lifting her so his mouth remained lapping at it’s target. He flexed his other arm in a display of power, and felt Amy’s juices flow with excitement. She clawed at Chris’s invulnerable arm, desperate for more displays of his manly powers. He could feel her bucking and panting as she murmured his name, “oh Chris. Fuck. Please. Oh yes. Please fuck me.”

Chris walked slowly to his bed. Bending over, he gently laid Amy down, then crawled in next to her. He kissed her, letter her taste her own juices on his breath. His hand moved to her crotch, and he began to pet and stroke her. He slipped on thick finger into her, then two, then three. He stretched her, and when she was ready, he positioned his monster cock and pushed.

“Wait,” she begged, as she flipped her legs behind her head. “Now,” she whispered. “Give me all of that super big cock.”

Amy cried in ecstasy as when his fat mushroom head penetrated her. She screamed with joy as inch after inch of Chris’s tool thrust in and out of her. When Chris was about half way in, her felt her walls clench against him, trying to crush his uncrushable cock. She screamed as her first orgasm washed over her. With each additional inch and every thrust, Amy’s orgasms became more powerful, more portent. She was crying incoherently as her hands raked over his chest and abs.

Chris rubbed his massive frame over her tits, as they leaked juices as every part of Amy’s body responded to him. Chris turned his head, and saw their reflection in a mirror. He saw a good 2 inches of his cock still not penetrating Amy, and his wide lats and ripped glutes totally controlling her. She looked small next to his hulking masculine form. Chris’s excitement grew as he realized how his power effected Amy, and saw the reflection of his alpha-male form in the mirror. He thrust harder, fording every inch of his thick eleven inches into her.

Amy screamed as her juices shot out of her, her orgasms coming one after another in uncontrollable pleasure. Her vagina tightened hard against Chris, but that only made his organ harder. He slowly pulled out, then thrust hard in. Amy’s eyes rolled back in her head as she became incoherent in her orgasmic bliss. She was limp on the bed, totally outclassed by the muscular sexual monster invading her. Chris felt his balls pull tight, preparing to release his own powerful orgasm.

Chris felt his cock flex, stretching Amy’s walls against their will. He felt her orgasms intensify as he shot his bullets into her, his cock throbbing and flexing, totally in control. It was too much for Amy. With a last scream of pleasure, she clutched at Chris’s manly chest, then succumb to the overflow of emotions and passed out.

Chris pulled himself off her limp body.

Amy woke up hours later in her car at the grocery store parking lot. She had been bathed, and Chris dressed her. He had carried her to her car and left her there on his way to the gym. On her steering wheel was a note containing one word. “Thanks.” Amy smiled, a warm feeling rushing over her. Her body still tingled from her experience with Chris. She had never felt this satiated before. A feeling of panic suddenly struck her when she thought she may never feel this way again.

She drove home to meet Joe. As she thought about him, Joe didn’t seem all that desirable to Amy any more. Chris had set a new standard, and it was one Joe would now have to live up to, if he could.

After his tryst with Amy, Chris became more aware of the effect he had on people. Men and women alike stared at him with envy, jealousy and desire. During the day, he began to take walks, strategically removing his tshirt or accidentally ripping a sleeve as he flexed his growing guns. Out of the corner of his eyes, he’d watch women stare and guys cower. During one encounter, he heard one guy mutter, “He’s not so tough.” Chris stared down the guy, a small 280 pound power lifter. The guy came over to pick a fight. Chris made short work of him, lifting the guy up over his head and tossing him through a plate glass window. He stepped over the shaken guy as he left, turning to snarl, “I’m way tougher than you are, runt.”

Chris continued his nightly workouts with an intensity bordering on mania, and the results showed. A few days after screwing Amy into oblivion, he got to the gym and Mike was waiting for him. “Got something to motivate you,” he said. They went into Mike’s office, where Mike had a small television and VCR. “Thought you might like to see this.” Mike started the VCR.

The screen showed the locker room. Mike had security cameras installed, and normally didn’t bother with the tapes unless someone complained about something. The locker room was empty, but there was the sound of the door opening, then Joe’s voice.

“Shit, that was intense,” Joe said. “Kaz, you are a machine.” Joe and Ron stepped into view, and Joe was stripping off a sweat-soaked t-shirt. “Look at this swole,” he said, raising an arm. Ron just nodded, and threw him a tape. Joe wrapped it around his arm, and read the number. “Fucking 21 and half, pumped. And a fucking 20 cold. I’m fucking huge thanks to your workouts!” Joe said, slapping Ron on the back.

Ron smirked, then flexed his own gun. “This is huge,” he said.”Measure it. See what a real man’s arm is like.”

Joe lept at the chance like a puppy dog trying to please his owner. His eyes widened as he shouted out, “over 25!” Joe grabbed Ron’s arm, and pulled down as hard as he could. Ron’s shoulder’s burst into deeply striated ripped muscle as Joe couldn’t budge the huge rocks.

“Gotta be stronger than that to move these cannons,” Ron said. “Now, go get the strap so I can finish my workout.” Joe ran and grabbed the modified jock strap that Ron and Chris used to do dick curls. Joe came back and knelt before Ron as Ron lowered his shorts.

“Gonna fuckin’ blow him or somethin’?” Chris mocked as Joe’s face obscured Ron’s crotch.

Ron stepped into the strap as Joe lifted it into place. He seemed to fumble as he tried to position the strap.

“Don’t jack me off, faggot. Put the weight on!” Ron said.

“It’s broken,” said Joe, turning red at the implication he might be gay.

Ron pushed Joe, and the smaller man fell backward. The camera now gave a clear view of Ron’s substantial manhood and the broken strap. Ron was fumbling with it, then ripped it off. “Fucking thing is shattered.”

“I didn’t…” Joe started to say.

“Yeah, of course you didn’t. I’ve seen your hang. Pretty big, but not in my class. This happens as I grow. Stupid straps just can’t handle someone that’s horse hung like me. Probably broke last time we used it. I’ll make another one and we’ll do this tomorrow.”

Joe looked at Ron, then began to pull off his pants. A big nine incher jumped up. Ron smiled, then stepped forward, showing off his big eleven. “See, you’re just small everywhere aren’t you.”

Joe looked down. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I was kinda hoping, well, maybeI could use the strap sometime. Amy’s been rather, well,…”

“Ain’t pleasing your babe, huh?”

“Always could,” Joe said. “But lately, well, she’s not acting as excited as she use to. Kinda lies there, and I get the impression she’s faking it. Maybe I’m just…”

“Dude,” Ron said, stroking himself, “this big boy here can lift 35 pounds for six reps.”

Chris laughed and smiled when he heard that, knowing he was doing over 50 now.

“Women go nuts with that much power. If you prove yourself, maybe I’ll let you train that muscle too. But first, you gotta help me get those sponsorships I’m after. When those company reps see my bod, I want the to begin to toss the bucks at me. You help me do that, and sure, I’ll help you with your little problem there.”

Mike stopped the tape. “Kaz has ordered me to host a competition. He wants and old style bodybuilding show. You know, where the guys powerlift first, then have a pose down after. He’s got some bigwigs from some supplement company coming in, and he wants to humiliate everyone and show the reps that he’s the biggest and baddest around.”

“He ain’t,” said Chris. “Now let’s train. I’ve got a competition towin.” Chris walked into the gym to work legs.

Part 5

The next morning, Chris woke up to someone pounding on his door. He moved to get out of bed, his legs sore and throbbing from last night’s workout. He stood, looking at his massive quads and diamond-shaped calves. His legs pressed against each other and rubbed together when he walked. There was a massive bulge in his briefs as if someone stuffed two grapefruits in them. He moved his hand down to his crotch and scratched his nuts. The banging continued.

“Who the fuck is it?” he screamed as he walked toward the door.

“Tank,” a woman’s voice called from behind the door. “It’s me. Amy. Can I please come in?” There was a pleading quality to her voice. The way she said ‘please’ seemed to be begging.

Chris opened the door.

Amy looked at Chris standing naked except for his briefs. Her eyes widened, and she seemed to start shaking. “Oh god,” she cried. She jumped at him, wrapping her arms and legs around him, pressing her body into his and began kissing him. “You’re even more than I remember. More man. More sexy. So strong.” She reached her hand into his briefs. “Ohhh,” she cried, “and so big.”

Chris took a step back, carrying Amy with him as he closed the door.”Babe, not that I don’t appreciate the attention, but what gives?” Amy continued to press her body into his, rubbing her hands over his wide back and kissing his powerful chest.

“God, I need you,” she said. “Can’t stop thinking about you. All your muscle. Your strength. The way you fuck me. Oh god, I’m getting so wet just thinking about it.”

Chris smiled, thinking about the tape from the night before. “What about Joe?” he asked slyly.

Amy released her hold on Chris and frowned a bit. “Ever since the last time,” she said softly, “he can’t satisfy me anymore. He tries, but I can only think about you. His dick is so small, and he’s so weak and…” her eyes move to Chris’s cock… “Oh please Tank. Let me give you a blow job.” She unbuttons her jeans and pulls them down. There’s a wet spot on the front where her juices are flowing in anticipation. She begins to rub it with her one hand as she looks Chris up and down while licking her lips.

Chris smiles. Without a word, he turns and walks into the kitchen. Amy follows silently. Chris grabs a gallon of milk and dumps it into a blender, then pours in several scoops of protein powder. Her turns the blender on, then grabs a syringe filled with his special ‘roids.

Amy falls to her knees and crawls to Chris. She reaches up and grabs his brief, pulling them down. Chris places the syringe in his glutes as Amy’s tongue laps hungrily at his cock and balls. “This always makes me horny. You just service me while I replenish my protein, OK?”

“Yes. Please. Yes.” she says, grabbing Chris’s big legs and sucking his cock. Chris throws the empty needle away, then grabs the protein shake and starts drinking.

Chris finishes his shake, puts the blender down and looks at Amy.”So, Joe can’t please you anymore?” he says innocently.

“Nuhuh…” she gags as she sucks desperately on Chris’s huge organ.

Chris puts his hands on his hips, and flexes his abs, chest and legs. Amy gurgles a sigh and sucks harder.

“You like that? You like my big fucking muscle? My big cock? You want more?”

Amy begins to claw at Chris, expressing her pent-up desires.

Chris pulls his cock out of Amy’s mouth. She lunges at him, trying to grab him. “No! Please!”

“I want you to see exactly how much of a man I am,” Chris says, almost ignoring her pleas as he walks into his bedroom. On hands and knees, she crawls after him. He throws a tape at her. “Measure me. Start with my cock.”

Amy starts to cry. “Thank you,” she says, taking the tape and stroking his iron-hard pipe. “Gotta see this big eleven inches,” she says, placing the end of the tape at the base of his cock. She extended the tape, then her hand began to shake. “Oh god. God. It’s over over eleven inches… almost 12.” She quickly wrapped the tape around the shaft.”And nearly seven and a half inches thick. Oh god!”

Amy stands up, her body visibly shaking with desire. She places one end of the tape on Chris’s nipple, Chris raises his hand and holds it there. Amy walks around Chris, unable to wrap her arms totally around his massive chest. As she matches the tape to the end, she reads off “60.” Chris smiles, then slowly begins to flex. The tape zips across his skin as his lats flare and pecs ripple into super hard muscle. Amy swoons as she reads off the 65 inch number.

“How big is Joe?”

“Joe’s only 52 inches. And the guy he works out with, he’s 64. Thought that was big.”

Chris’s cock involuntarily jerks at hearing that his chest is a full inch bigger than Ron’s.

“Arms!” he orders.

Amy nearly fell over herself getting the tape around Chris’s raised gun. Chris didn’t flex until the tape was fully around, then jerked his mountain out arm to attention. The tape nearly ripped at the power of his flex, and Amy gasped when she read “over 25 inches.”

“Bigger than Joe,” Chris said.

“and Ron, or so Joe tells me. He’s a little smaller than 25 right now,” Amy said.

As Amy continued to measure, the results were all the same. Chris’s activities became a blur in his mind as he lifted Amy to the bed and began to fuck her. In his mind, he thought about Ron. He pictured Ron lifting at the gym, struggling to keep up with the weights Chris easily tossed around. He imagined flexing next to Ron, the runt looking skinny and weak and Chris being huger than huge. He imagined Ron in tears, crying at Chris’s superior size and power, totally crushed by Chris’s size and might. Finally, Chris thought about fucking Ron’s woman, totally ruining her like he had ruined Amy for Joe. When Chris finally shot his load, Amy had passed out. Chris had heard her screams of ecstasy as she came and came and came. He got off of her, went and showered, then ate a huge meal. She was still passed out when he threw on a baggy sweatshirt and sweat pants and went to the gym.

Chris didn’t notice that he was being followed. A truck pulled out of his parking lot after him, then tailed him to the gym, pulling into a space close to the door. When Chris walked by, a fist came out and slammed into his chin. A man jumped him, pushing him against the wall.

Chris reacted on instinct. Chris powered out of the man’s hold, his huge arms snapping out of the smaller man’s grip. Chris hands grabbed at the man’s shoulders and with a single push, turned himself away from the wall and slammed his attacker against the brick.

The attacker made a sick, weak “umph” as the air was forced out of his lungs from the abruptness of Chris’s move. The attacker began to buck and fight to free himself, but it was hopeless. Chris was in charge now. For the first time, he focused on the attacker’s face.

“Joe?” he snarled. Chris slammed his big forearm into Joe’s neck, pinning his head to the wall. “What the fuck are you thinking!” Chris’s face was red with anger. He was ready to beat this fool to a pulp, but held back for an explanation.

Joe’s eyes shot fire at Chris. He grabbed the big man’s arms with his hands and pushed. Joe’s pecs flexed and his tris bulged as he exerted his might against Chris.

Chris pressed his arm harder into Joe’s neck, easily overpowering his little friend. He watched Joe struggle helplessly, his 20 inch arm sand bodybuilder-sized chest straining against the unceasing might of Chris’s body. Chris started to laugh at Joe’s struggle. “Fucking wimp! I asked you a question, runt! You can struggle all you want, but you ain’t goin no where until you speak up. And you don’t want me to get bored,” he added as a threat.

Joe pushed as hard as he could, letting out a scream and contorting his face in the effort. Chris pressed harder, and moving his face within inches of Joe’s said with a snarl, “I said talk.” Chris pressed his arm in a bit more, crushing through Joe’s flexed neck. Joe choked.

“I’m gonna kill you,” he swore. “What are you doing to Amy! Why’d she go into your apartment. Mother fucker, if you hurt my girl…”

Chris grabbed Joe’s left arm with his free arm and pinned it to the wall. Releasing Joe’s neck, he grabbed his right arm and pinned it to the wall. Chris took a step forward, pushing his huge chest into Joe’s. Chris flexed so Joe could feel his steel hard muscle crush into him. Chris stared into Joe’s eyes, flexing harder until he saw fear, then terror, then pain. “If you aren’t man enough to take care of your girl,” Chris sneered, “don’t blame that on me, boy.” Chris pressed hard into Joe, then stepped back and let him go. “Now I’m going to go lift some heavy weights like a real man.”

As Chris turned, Joe said, “Kaz banned you from this gym, fuck wad.” Without looking, Chris extended his arm and grabbed Joe by the neck. He pushed, throwing the man into the door in front of him. Joe tried to resist, but Chris was far too strong. He tossed Chris into the reception stand. “Don’t fuck’n mention that piece of horseshit to me. I’m bigger, stronger and badder than he ever was or will be. You watch MY workout and I’ll show you why Amy’s at my apartment begging me to plow her. I’ll show you the difference between a MAN like me and a wannabe like Ronny”

Before Joe could say a word, Chris lifted off his sweatshirt and tossed it to the ground. “You’re huge!” Joe gasped, his eyes widening as he took in Chris’s huge arms, massive chest and muscular stomach.

“Yeah,” said Chris, turning to walk to the locker room to finish changing, “but not huge enough. Wait til you see me pumped.”

Mike saw Chris entering the locker room, and Joe standing staring in disbelief. “What are you doing here?” Mike asked, approaching Joe. “The gym is closed.”

“Man, you’re nuts!” said Joe. “You been training Tank? Kaz ordered you…”

“I know what he said, but what choice did I have? Kaz has ruined every gym he’s ever trained at. First he drives the customers away, then he leaves. I gotta keep my business.”

“Dude, it’s your business or your life. I mean, no one’s as strong as Kaz. Not even…”

“Tank is stronger,” Mike said, interrupting. “He’s my super-powered secret weapon. Man, the dedication. He eats, sleeps and trains to be huge. It’s his single focus.”

“He looks big, but Kaz…”

“Is smaller man. In just over a month, Tank grew so big that he crushes the man in every category. He lifts heavier, with more intensity and flexes as big or bigger.”

“The guy’s fucking little runt,” said Chris, emerging from the locker room. “Weights set up for arms?”

“You bet big guy,” said Mike, running behind Chris to help with the workout. “How you feeling today.”

“Strong.” Chris turned to Joe. “Hear you been training with little Ronny. What’s he warm up with?”

“Kaz starts with 100s,” Joe said, unimpressed with Chris’s attitude.

Chris walked over to a couple of 110s. “A bit light for a warm-up. Did these last time. Should move up, but what the fuck.” Chris cranked out 20 reps. “Shit. Should grabbed 115s.”

“Sorry Tank,” said Mike, grabbing a pair of 120s. “You can make up for it now.”

Mike was use to seeing Chris turn into a machine in the gym, totally focused on his workout, but Chris was different today. He was showing off. What Mike didn’t understand was why. As Chris finished cranking out another 20 reps with the weight, he pronounced it too light.

“Give me the 150s,” he said, turning to stare at Joe.

“Kaz works out with 160s,” he said nonplussed.

Chris snarled. “This is still my warm up, punk.” He grabbed the weights and began curling, never breaking eye contact with Joe. At ten reps, Joe’s eyes wandered to Chris’s arms. At fifteen reps, they began to widen. At 20, Joe’s jaw had dropped. Chris dropped the weight, and looked at Mike, who was just as impressed as Joe. He rubbed his bis, feeling the hard muscle. “That warmed me up. Now, get me some 180s.”

Mike looked surprised, and thought about asking Chris if he was sure about that, but Chris had turned to stare at Joe again. Mike walked over to the rack and set up the huge weight. He brought the dumbbells back one at a time, unable to carry both together.

Chris bent down to pick up the weights. He ignored the sound of fabric ripping as he lifted the weights. Slowly, he contracted his right bicep, a thick vein pumping hard just below the skin. His huge bicep flexed into super hardness as he controlled the weight, slowly lowering it with apparent ease. He repeated the motion with his left arm then repeated again, then again and again. Sweat glistened from his powerful body as he completed eight reps, then forced out nine and finally ten.

“Fuck,” Joe whispered as Chris rubbed his bicep.

“Think I’ll go heavier,” he told Mike as he flexed his arms into a double bi to examine his growing pump. “Let’s do 200.”

“That’s forty pounds heavier than Kaz!” Joe said in disbelief. “You can’t be that strong.”

Chris sat on a bench while Mike grabbed the weights. As he sat, his shorts ripped more. Rather than answering Joe, he examined the shredded material trying to cover his ass and legs. “Shit, I’m going to need new shorts.” He grabbed the waistband and tugged, ripping the tattered shorts off. “You guys don’t mind if I train in just my jock, do you?”

Mike finished getting the 200lb dumbbells. “No Chris. Whatever makes you happy. Just keep growing so we can show ‘em whose the boss here.”

Chris nodded and stood up, his eyes never moving from Joe.

On the other hand, Joe’s eyes scanned over Chris’s body. The word, “fuck” formed on his lips as he saw Chris’s overstuffed jock straining to contain his manhood. “Can’t be,” he muttered.

As before, Chris controlled the weight. Doing rep after rep slowly, with perfect form, he pounded his biceps. His body turned red as his blood pumped to feed his strength. Chris watched as Joe’s hand moved to his crotch to adjust the growing bulge he had. Just like with Amy, Chris’s power was affecting Joe now. The thought of the power and the effect it had on others fueled Chris’s arms as he forced out eight perfect reps. Chris dropped the weight as Mike came running over like a lonely puppy.

“That was fucking super, Tank,” Mike gushed as he grabbed and squeezed Chris’s pumped arm. “Shit, you’re a fucking powerhouse.” Mike rubbed Chris’s arm, and Chris flexed the amazing bicep for him to feel. Mike’s big hands could barely cover the huge mound that Chris controlled. “Hard a steel. Dude, you rule.”

“Yeah, but I gotta do another set. Still not big enough,” Chris said, pushing Mike aside.

“And Dude,” Mike said as Chris picked up the weight, “you gotta buy a bigger jock. Shit man, you’re overflowing.”

Chris watched as Joe’s eyes darted to the straining fabric at his crotch. Like before he did his set of eight perfect reps, feeling his muscles grow as he lifted the weights. Chris put the weights down with a grunt, then moved his hands and adjusted his jock.

“Things already a XX in the pouch, and it’s too fucking small.”Turning to look at Joe again, “Even had some sexual release before I got here, but these boys are ready to go again. I can feel my fuckin’ man-juice flowin’. But I ain’t got no time to be horny. I’m here to grow.”

Joe’s mouth grew dry at the implication, and his hand went to adjust his cock, which was lengthening and thickening thinking about Chris and Amy. As Chris continued to exercise, pumping his arms harder than Joe had ever seen anyone workout before, Joe’s mind continued to drift back to Amy. Had the power in Chris’s arms been the attraction? The man’s huge torso or tree trunk legs? Or had it been that huge horse cock and grapefruit-sized balls that provocatively stretched Chris’s jockstrap. As Joe watched Chris’s sweaty body glisten in the gym lights, he marvelled at the way Chris dominated the weights and made a mockery of his and Kaz’s so-called workouts. Joe felt totally inferior and he hated it. He tried to shake it off, but then Tank would smash through another one of Kaz’s record lifts, and the feeling would overtake him again.

“Now that’s a workout,” said Chris as he placed the 250 lb barbell back on the curling bench. Walking over to Joe, he flexed his monster gun in the man’s face. “No fucking missile can take this cannon down,”he announced. Shakily, Joe’s hand moved and lightly touched the huge peak. Chris flexed harder, forcing his huge bicep into Joe’s timid hand. Joe grabbed at the peak, his hand too small to cover it all.

“Oh fuck,” Joe said while rubbing the huge arm. “You’re a fucking muscle monster Tank.”

“Damn right I am,” said Chris walking toward the locker room. “Got one more exercise to do. Mike, is it ready?”

“You bet Tank,” said Mike, running ahead of him.

As if in a trance, Joe followed Chris into the locker room. Mike held the modified strap that Chris used to exercise his monster cock. Mike moved forward to help Chris out of his jockstrap, but Chris pushed him away.

“Joe, you always bragged about your mule dick. Come here and get me out of this thing, and get an up-close and personal look at what drives Amy crazy.” Joe didn’t move, so Chris walked over to him. “Scared to see what a REAL man looks like,” Chris said, hefting his package in his hand for effect.

“I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of there,” Joe said, his self-confidence rising.

“Prove it then.”

Joe’s eyes narrowed. He unzipped his pants and pulled them down. Chris had to admit Joe was bigger, but no where near in his league. Joe’s legs looked to be about 30 inches and were ripped.

This time, it was Mike who reacted, muttering “whoa” as more and more of Joe’s body became visible. “Shit man, I knew you were working out with Kaz, but…”

“Just gettin’ huge,” said Joe, flexing his arm in a show of his size.” Gotta match what I got here,” he said, grabbing his crotch. His white briefs bulged full with his own snake. Joe smiled as he contemplated Chris’s reaction, and pulled his briefs down. A thick hard nine inches sprang out, and Joe stroked it appreciatively.

Chris laughed, pulling his own jock down. Soft, Chris’s cock was just as long as Joe’s hard-on but even thicker. Joe gasped at the sight of the superior manhood, as Chris bragged, “No wonder Amy comes begging me for it.”

Mike knelt before Chris and helped him put on the strap. He was glad that Joe’s attention was on Tank and not on him. ‘Damn,’ he thought. ‘I’ve been so preoccupied training Mike, I didn’t notice that Joe was massing up too.’ His eyes darted between the two, and even though Joe had an amazing body, he looked like a prepubescent boy compared to Tank.

Chris stroked his cock into its full foot-long length, then turned back to Joe smiling. “Ronny does 35 pounds, right? Mike, put 70 on.”

Joe watched as Chris hefted the 70 pounds, elevating it up and down as he strengthened his horse cock into iron hardness. Joe began to mutter, “no, that’s impossible. shit,” as he subconsciously continued to stroke his own mule dick.

As Chris completed his third set, Mike moved to remove the weights.”Heh, check out the faggot. Looks like I totally short-circuited his brain,” Chris said, walking over to Joe. “It’s ok LITTLE guy,” Chris said, stressing the little part, “ain’t no one as big, strong or sexy as I am.”

“Oh yeah,” swooned a woman’s voice from the doorway.

Joe’s attention snapped back as he turned and screamed, “Amy!”

“Whatcha doin’ here, babe?” Chris asked.

“Couldn’t stay away Tank,” she said as she brushed passed Joe and brushed her hand against Chris’s sweaty chest. She moved her mouth close to him and licked his pecs. “Mmmmm, you taste so good,” she said.

“Amy,” Joe said, pleading.

“Amy, Joe’s here,” said Chris.

“He is? Oh, I didn’t see him. And Mike too.” She turned back to Chris and continued to worship his body. “I want you to fuck me,” she whispered to him.

“Joe, Amy wants me to fuck her,” Chris announced. He pushed gently against Amy, and urged her to sit down. “Let me show you why?” Chris walked over to Joe, and ripped off his shirt. Now, both men stood naked. “Amy, want a show? Wanna see how Joe compares to me?”

“No one compares to you Tank!”

Chris smiled. “You’re probably right.”

“But I would like to see Joey and Mike together,” said Amy. “They’re both kinda big, but not like you.” Amy stroked her hand over Chris’s abs and brushed it against his cock.”

“Hey Tank, I don’t want,” Mike started, but stopped when he saw the anger in Chris’s face.

“The lady wants a show,” he ordered. “She wants the small dogs to parade around before the big dog comes on stage. Now strip and give her what she wants.”

Mike froze, then looked at Joe who was grinning. Slowly, he began to remove his sweatshirt. His pecs rippled as he lifted the shirt off, revealing a tight six pack covered in thick black hair. Mike’s shoulder’s were round, and his biceps popped and flexed as he moved to pull off his sweatpants and jock. Mike’s legs were thickly muscled and covered in the same black fur that the rest of his body shared. His cock, though, was small, a little button lost in a forest of hair. Amy giggled when she saw it.

Joe wasted no time. We walked next to Mike, raised his arm into Mike’s face and said, “BOOM!” A thick 21 inch peak came up. Mike flexed, but his 18s looked small compared to Joe. Joe grinned, and his big cock jerked with superiority.

Mike turned, flexing his thick pecs and extending his arm into a side tri pose. Joe countered, his thicker pec shelf and hyper-striated tri dominated the man who was once refered to as his “twin”. Joe revelled in the feeling of beating Mike, turning and striking a hands-on-hips most muscular, flexing his legs which rippled with thick, powerful muscle.

Chris watched as Joe began to pose with new determination. His poses flowed as if they were choreographed. His symmetry was as good as any professional bodybuilder. Mike, on the other hand, looked choppy. He lacked the fluidity of motion and the proportions Joe had. While he tried to keep up, he was outclassed in both size and style.

“Looks like I’m gonna need to train you to get as big as little Joey here, huh Mike,” said Chris standing. He pushed between Mike and Joe, and entered the pose down. He raised both his arms, flexing his huge guns, flaring his lats and pumping his pecs. Turning to look at Joe, he said, “KABOOM” as his flexed harder, his bicep exploding into hypervascular, hyperstriated wonder. Chris’s bicep looked nearly twice as big as Mike’s who was now the smallest man.

Mike tried to shirk away, but Chris jumped in front of him, shaking his massive thigh before flexing it into super hard definition. Mike turned, and saw Joe doing the same thing, though his leg looked like a toothpick compared to Chris’s. Mike turned, and saw Joe flexing his cow next to Mike. Mike looked so small. He stared at the superiority of both men, hung huge and muscular, and began to cry.

“Yeah!” cried Joe, flexing his bi in Mike’s face.

“Yeah!” mimicked Chris in a girly-voice, flexing his larger arm in Joe’s face.

“Oh Tank,” said Amy jumping up and grabbing his huge arm. “You are… are…” Amy looked bleary-eyed, and started kissing Chris’s huge gun.

“Amy?” Joe cried, flexing his own arm.

“Love your big arms,” Amy said, looking at Joe as if for the first time. “So much bigger than these wimps. So strong.” She placed her mouth on Chris bicep, kissing and licking it so more. “You are so big and they are so small. God, I need you to fuck me. Please fuck me here, now, in front of them. Show them what a real man is like. Please.” She begged Chris.

Joe’s eyes grew wide, and a he choked back his own tears. He turned, seeing himself in the mirror and realizing that yes, compared to Chris, he really was small and weak.

“Where you goin’, runt,” Chris bellowed, stopping Joe in his tracks. “The lady made a request.”

Joe turned, a tear on his cheek. “Fuck you and her. Isn’t it bad enough you’ve just humiliated me and taken my girl.”

Amy giggled as she rubbed her hands over Chris’s sweaty pecs.

“You started it,” said Chris, grabbing Joe by the shoulder and forcing him close. “Mike, didn’t Joey here always use to tease you. Something about him being bigger.”

Mike looked up. “He is bigger,” admitted Mike, adding, “now.”

“No, I mean something else.”

Mike made a small nod.

“Yeah,” said Chris, taking charge. “Real proud of your big dick.” Chris said the word ‘big’ with an air of contempt. “Amy, why don’t you-measure us.”

Joe tried to pull away, but Chris held his shoulder tight so he couldn’t move.

“Tank, no one is bigger than you,” Amy said, stroking both men to full hardness.

“Show him, babe. Show him just how big Tank is. Show him with your mouth.”

Amy grinned. She knelt before the pair. Chris looked a Joe, who was staring at Chris’s monster, comparing his tool with the huge cock that pointed upward from between Chris’s legs. A look of total inferiority appeared on his face.

Amy moved her mouth close to Joe’s dick. She licked the head, then moved her mouth over the shaft. She stroked her mouth over it several times, deep throating him more and more before finally burying her head in his hairy abs.

“Now me,” ordered Chris.

Amy moved away from Joe. She kissed Chris’s cock, then opened her mouth wide, but failed to get the fat head in the first time. “So thick,” she muttered as she tried again, forcing her jaw wider to accommodate the thick man-tool Chris had. He began to stroke the shaft with her warm, wet mouth, forcing more and more of the tool into her throat with each stroke. When she was about half way down, she began to gag and had to pull back. “Too big,” she said, but tried again and then a third time, each with the same result.

“That’s enough babe,” Chris said finally, grabbing Joe’s tool and pressing it against his. Chris was almost twice as fat and inches longer. “Runt boy here gets the idea. Whatcha thinkin, runt boy?”

Joe’s posture said it all. He stood slouched over, totally defeated. His eyes stared aimlessly at the floor.

“Say it,” Chris demanded.

Joe’s mouth moved, but no words came out. He cleared his throat, but even that sounded pathetic. “Tank… so big… huge… I’m nothing… less than nothing… shit, no wonder Amy wants you…”

“Figured that out, didja?” Tank said, flexing his arm in Joe’s face. “Boom,” he whispered, and Joe sank to the floor.

Both Mike and Joe sat there, then looked up at Chris. Both wanted to be him, envied his power, his size and his sexual prowess. Mike had made Chris the total alpha male, and both longed to be him and to make Chris even bigger, stronger and more alpha. Joe just wanted to die.

“Can we leave, Tank?” Amy asked.

“No,” said Chris. “I want you to go home with Joe.”

Joe looked up, and Amy seemed about to abject.

“Babe,” Chris said to her, “I got this all worked out. I need you to help me. Yeah, Joe is a pathetic runt, but he loves yeah. He just learned that there’s no one who is as big or as much of a man as me, and I need his help. He’s gonna keep workin’ out with Ron, but he’s gonna tell me everything. He knows I’ll squash both of them like a bug if he tells Ron about me.”

Joe nodded.

Chris continued. “And Joey here is gonna give me advice on posing. Yeah see, in a few weeks, when Ronnie has his little contest, I’m gonna win. I’m gonna out lift and out pose him. Mike will make me stronger,”

Mike nodded.

“and in return, I’ll help him grow to be as big as Joe is.”

“But Tank, I need you,” said Amy.

“You’ll still see me babe. You can come over every couple days and I’ll keep you satisfied. And when you’re with Joe, you just think about these big muscles,” Chris says, striking a most muscular pose that displayed his incredible physique. “and this huge cock, and keep little Joey happy. Do it for me, OK babe? It will make me happy, and make me even bigger than I am now. OK?”

Chris placed one finger under Amy’s chin, and looked her deep in the eyes. Amy was frowning, but eventually she said, “I’d do anything for you, Tank.”

Part 6

It’s now the day before the competition. The last three weeks seemed to fly through Chris’s mind. They were filled with sleep, eating, lifting heavy and hard, and an occasional sexual affair with Amy. She kept Joe happy, and Chris kept her happy. Chris was a man of his word. The weeks were also filled with muscle and growth. Chris was huge—bigger than he had thought possible, but still not as big as he wanted. That didn’t matter today, though. All that mattered was that he was way bigger and way stronger than Ron. And according to Joe, he was.

Mike was growing too. He had put a good solid inch on his arms and was catching up to Joe, who was growing jealous that his own workouts with Ron weren’t as intense as the ones Mike was having withChris.

Joe would show up regularly at the gym and watch Mike and Chris hit the weights, awed by the intensity and determination both men showed. In the locker room, Joe was rewarded by measuring their progress. Inch by inch, pound by pound, Tank grew bigger and stronger. Joe’s mouth would go dry as he witnessed not only Tank’s muscles thicken and strengthen, but also his manhood.

Joe didn’t need to tell Chris that. Amy’s reaction to Chris was all the proof he needed. When Chris passed 13 long, thick inches of throbbing manhood, Amy nearly had a seizure from cumming so much. Joe’s mouth went dry thinking about Chris and Amy, and he found himself finding ways to bring them together. When he was alone, he’d jack himself raw thinking about Chris’s power and sexual prowess.

Tonight, he had invited Tank and Mike over for dinner to celebrate. Tank was in training, so Amy prepared a meal to his specifications. He needed to be ripped and lean. She made chicken breasts with no salt, and a simple salad. Tank ate fifth and sixth helpings.

After dinner, the festivities began. Joe brought out a scale, and placed it in the middle of the room.

Amy stood up. “Gentleman. Welcome. Tonight we see which of you is the true man here. I’m your host for these festivities. I hope you don’t mind if I make myself more comfortable.” The men made cat call sand hoots as Amy removed her tshirt and pants, and stood wearing just a bikini. Amy turned, showing her firm breasts and shapely legs and arms. “I’m glad you appreciate me, but we’re not here for that. We’re here so I can appreciate you. Now gentleman, it’s your turn. Mike…” she pointed to the scale, “time to weigh in.”

Mike got up and walked toward Amy. He went to step on the scale, but Amy stopped him. “Now Mike, don’t be shy. We’re all friends here and we know that clothes add a couple pounds.” She smile, then in a deeper, sexier voice said, “Show me what you got, big boy!”

Tank and Joe laughed. Mike blushed, then started to laugh too. “OK,”he said, placing his hands on the bottom of the shirt. He raised it, revealing his thin waist. He flexed, turning the soft stomach into cobblestones and ran his hand over it smiling. He lifted the shirt higher, revealing the shelf of his square pecs. He bounced them, then spreading his lats, feigned difficulty in lifting the shirt over his sail.

Amy stepped forward, and rubbed Mike’s chest. “Need some help there, big boy?” She then rubbed her hand down his abs and unbuttoned his jeans. “You do the shirt, and I’ll do what’s down here.” She winked at Joe and Chris. As she unzipped his pants, Mike hurriedly pulled the shirt over his head.

“I think this is strong enough to do the pants,” said Mike, flexing his big 20 inch arm. “Just broke the 20 inch mark, didn’t I!”

Chris gave a slight nod of approval.

Amy stuck her hand down Mike’s pants, squeezing his already hard cock.

“Let me help you with that,” said Mike, putting his hands on the waist and pushing down over his thick thighs. Amy continued to massage Mike’s organ as he stepped out of his pants and showed off his quads and massive calves.

“Wanna compare,” said Joe, stepping forward. Amy reached forward and unbuttoned his pants.

“What about your shirt?” she asked.

“I thought you’d help me with that too,” he said with a grin, and twisting from side to side, flexing his lats and pecs, added, “it’s hard to get it over all this muscle.”

Chris snickered, but Amy continued to unbutton Joe’s pants. Placing her hand down his pants, she felt the top of his still soft organ. She lowered her hand more, rubbing it against the substantial length.

“Keep going,” he whispered, placing his arms on his waist. “Here, let me get these off to help you.” He pushed down as Amy realized her hand had gone down Joe’s left leg searching for the end of his soft organ. Joe forced his pants to the floor as he felt a shiver in Amy’s hands as she measured the two men, realizing just how much bigger than Mike Joe actually was. At the same time, both men noted how she stared at Chris, her eyes glazing over with the knowledge that the biggest man had yet to step forward.

Chris just smiled.

“Wanna give me a hand here,” Joe said, trying to get Amy’s mind back on him. Her attention was beginning to arouse him, as was the thought of eventually seeing Chris in all his glory.

Amy just smiled, then signalled to Mike. He leaned forward, and she whispered something in his ear. He nodded.

Amy removed her hand from his stiff five-inches and he leaned forward and kissed her passionately. She moved both hand’s to Joe’s pants, then knelt before the two men. As she reached up to grab Joe’s pants, her mouth went to Mike’s cock. She licked it briefly before slurping all 5 inches into her warm mouth. Mike flexed a most muscular pose over her as her eyes darted up his hard stomach and thick pecs. Amy responded to this by pulling hard on Joe’s pants. Mike felt her purr with anticipation as she ran her one hand up his calf and thigh and the other over Joe’s bigger calf and thicker quads and hams.

Joe could see that Amy was sizing both men up in anticipation to being wowed by Chris, but this was still his chance. Between he and Mike, Joe knew he had the size everywhere. He leaned over Amy as Mike was doing, and flexed his own more impressive most muscular. His already hard 9+ inches smacked into his flexed abs with a loud *thud* that even surprised him. Since Chris and Kaz had taught him how to do the the ‘dick lifts’, he’d worked up to 25lbs for reps, and his cock responded with new vitality.

Amy continued to size up her two boy-toys. She moved her hands to their balls, and her eyes darted instantly to Mike. She was shocked that a man with such a little dick could have such huge nuts—easily half again as big as Joe’s. She pulled her mouth off of his cock, and visually sized both men up. Joe’s rod was almost twice as long and twice as thick as Mike’s, but his sack looked thin and small. Even pressed forward by his 28 inch thighs, Joe’s impressive meat seemed to loose something when Mike’s huge nuts bounced against his ripped 26 inch quads. Amy’s breathing became irregular as her comparing the two studs was obviously turning her on.

“I think that’s enough of a warm-up,” Chris said, standing up. “You’re ready for a real man now.” He walked over to the trio, and raised his hands. “Can someone help me get this shirt off?” Chris’s massive arms seemed to want to crush his head—the thick biceps and bowling-ball delts demanding room where none existed. Chris’s arms had to remain slightly bent to accommodate the size of his powerful muscles.

Before anyone else cold move, Mike pulled himself away from Amy. “Got it, big guy,” he announced. Chris’s XXL shirt was a size or two too small for his massive chest. His lats spread wide, nearly ripping the shirt. Mike grabbed the bottom of the shirt, and tried to pull it up, but it was so tight it seemed to be part of him. “Damn Tank, how’d you get this on?”

Chris shrugged, his traps and back rippling and flexing, causing a few seams to pop.

“Try and relax more,” said Mike, beginning to have some success. As more and more meaty lat came into view, Mike began to feel smaller and smaller. His own body was the envy of most guys, but compared to Chris he looked and felt like a couch potato. With a sudden jerk, the shirt freed itself from Chris’s superior mass. Mike couldn’t help but rub his hands over Chris’s powerful shoulders and freaky bis.

Chris smiled approvingly at the attention, and shook his relaxed arm, causing the thick, powerful flesh to undulate back and forth.

Mike’s eyes widened at Chris’s arm, which appeared as large as his own thigh. Mike’s cock began to leak precum as he tried to control himself in the presence of the big man.

Chris noticed Mike’s reaction. He grabbed Mike’s hand and held it against his bicep. “Yeah like my big arms, huh?” he said. “Well, you helped make them, so you might as well get a real feel.”

Mike suddenly felt the flesh under his arm harden. He squeezed, but the huge muscle flexed harder, forcing his hand to open wide. He tried to squeeze harder, and his forearm rippled with the effort, but Chris’s mountainous bicep kept swelling larger and larger. “Yeah feel that size man. That shit you gave me…”

“N.. n.. n.. o” said Mike, his fingers groping at the iron hard bicep. “You. The shit was a placebo. Kaz took everything I had. All this,” Mike’s other hand rubbed Chris’s insanely large bicep, “all this is you. You did it all by yourself.”

Chris flexed his arm hard. Mike began to shake at the size and power, and lost all control, squirting cum into the air and into a puddle on the floor.

“You lied,” Chris said, trying to comprehend the confession. “You mean I built this…”

Mike shot a second, larger load as he thought about Chris. “All that power. The intensity. All you. Fuck.”

Chris got a huge smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with pride. “Fuck’n A!” He flexed harder watching Mike’s hand shrink against the massively powerful muscle. He raised his other arm in triumph, forcing it into an equally massive bicep. His grin widened with self-pride as he explored his huge arms. “Fucking mass monster! YEAH!”

“Mass god,” said Mike weakly as he rubbed his hands over Chris’s arms wantonly.

Chris felt his meat thickening uncomfortably down his left leg. He extended his arm, flexing his powerful tricep into brilliant and intimidating relief, and pointed at Joe. “YOU! Come over here and get these pants off me!”

Joe started to walk over, but Amy stopped him. “Crawl to him. On your knees.” She smiled at Chris. “Kneel before your god.”

Joe stopped, a touch of anger on his face. He looked at Amy, then at Chris. Chris nodded slowly.

Joe frowned and didn’t move.

“DO IT!” Tank commanded, his pecs tightening in anger. “You KNOW what this muscle can do!”

Joe shook visibly, then slowly fell to his knees. He crawled toward Chris, his eyes looking defiantly at him. As he approached Chris, Joe pumped his own pecs to assert his own manliness to Chris. Joe flexed his own biceps, then extended his hands to Chris’s belt. He noted that Tank wore 40/34 pants. As the belt came off, Joe noticed the waist of the pants loosened, but didn’t sag. The pants seemed to be painted on to Tank’s glutes, quads and calfs, but tented around a ripped waist. Joe estimated that Tank’s waist must only be 32 or 33 inches. His cock twitched into hardness as he realized how hard Tank’s body must be.

Joe reached up and grabbed the baggy fabric around Tank’s waist. He pulled down, but with little results. Joe’s arms began to bulge as his power came to bear against Chris’s jeans. He yanked, but the jeans seemed caught on Chris’s powerful glutes.

Chris just smiled. “Love deep squats,” he said. “Maybe I shouldn’t be flexing them now. Your puny arms are no match for my muscle.”

Joe saw Chris’s glutes relax, and with great effort, he pulled the pants down. His mouth went dry as his face was now directly in front of Tank’s jock strap. It seemed several sizes too small for the massive balls and long cock that it barely contained. His eyes darted to over to Mike’s boulders, sizing them up against Tank’s. “Fuck,” he whispered as he noted the jewels protruding from the straining jock were almost twice as large as Mike’s. Joe’s cock throbbed with jealousy at his own inferiority.

His anger drove him to pull hard on Chris’s pants, forcing them over a pair of ripped massive quads. Tank’s knees looked tiny as muscle protruded like cliffs over the bone. Joe looked up at Chris, his expression turning from defiance to awe. “I ah… need you to lift your leg… to get the pants off.” Joe placed his hand on Chris’s quad. He’d seen the man naked before, but his mind refused to take in the sheer mass and power Chris possessed.

Tank raised his right leg, and felt Joe’s hand stroke his powerful thigh before yanking the leg over Tank’s football-sized calf.

“I measured that cow at 26 inches last week,” Amy whispered to Joe as his hand absent-mindedly stroked the muscle. “Bet it’s bigger now.”

“Uh huh” Joe said, mesmerized by the muscle’s hardness.

“You gonna do the other leg or what, wimp?” Chris said.

“Oh, yeah,” said Joe as if coming out of a trance. He heard Mike laugh, and Joe glared at him. Joe grabbed the pants and forced them off of Chris’s leg.

Joe rose, and turned to Mike, his fully hard cock cantilevered in front of him. “What are you laughing at?” he said threateningly. He stepped forwarding, letting his longer and thicker manhood brush against Mike’s stubby cock. “Go ahead and snicker, little dick. I got more muscle backing up this big boy than you’ll ever have.”

Before Mike could react, Joe felt a hand press down on his shoulder. Joe’s knees nearly buckled at the force from the arm. He turned, and saw Chris staring at him, a wicked grin on his face and confidence beaming from his eyes. Chris nodded toward the floor, and Joe looked down.

Chris’s freehand was on his cock strap. With a single yank, he ripped it off and all fourteen inches of his steely hard cock burst up. Tank’s dick smacked into Joe’s meat with such force that Joe visibly winced. Tank’s meat rose high, making Joe look like a prepubescent boy and Mike look microscopic in comparison.

“You ain’t never gonna have the muscle or the manhood I got, runt!” Tank said with a laugh.

Joe’s hand began to move toward his cock, but Chris grabbed it. “I didn’t give you permission to touch that,” he said. Instead, Chris stepped back just far enough that his massive meat rubbed the tip of Joe’s.

Tank could feel Joe’s cock start to throb. In response, he flexed the muscle around his cock, causing it to pulse even larger and thicker.

Joe began to shake, his balls demanding release but his arms held firmly by a more powerful man. Joe felt small. He felt weak. He thought of Kaz, then stared at the powerhouse before him and knew the roid freak was no match for Tank. Joe knew his own muscle was dwarfed by Kaz, and if Chris was even bigger. Joe exploded, white cream shooting from his organ onto the superior form that held him. A tear rolled down his face as he fell to his knees. “Fuck,” he said, “you really are a muscle god.” Joe’s tongue moved to where his jism dripped on Chris, and he began to lick his god clean.

That night, Joe and Mike watched Chris fuck Amy until she passed out from the multiple orgasms she had. Afterwards, he let Mike and Joe worship him until both men were also spent. Chris came at least 10 times, but still was rock hard. He looked at the three forms passed out around him, and moved to stand in front of a mirror. Chris looked at the tape that Amy had used to measure him hours before.

“Fourteen and over a quarter inches long and over nine inches around,” she had said.

Tank smiled at his still hard, throbbing meat. He took it in his hand and squeezed hard. It stretched even longer as his cock’s hardness fought against his strong grip. He raised his arm and flexed his bicep, which he brought to his mouth and licked. He watched as he lapped at his own powerful arm, then brought his lips to the muscle. He kissed it. He was huge. He was a god. A mass monster. He had no rival. He moved his arm down and felt his chest. His pecs were heavy with thick muscle. He flexed them, watching the veins pushed forward by ripped muscle. He pressed his cock into his cinder block abs, and bent over slightly, rubbing the sensitive cockhead against his down-pointing nipple. Chris felt his huge nuts rubbing against his legs. He flexed his thighs, forcing his huge balls further forward to admire their size. “You’re ready again, aren’t you…” he snarled as he stroked his huge cocker faster and faster. He looked over every part of his huge body, and the realization that he had no equal burned in his mind. He moved his free hand and pulled on his nuts, watching his arms pulse with muscular power. Chris’s head flew back as his monster erupted in a geyser of white cum that shot high and hit the ceiling.

Chris knew he had been holding back. Amy was so frail. Mike and Joe were so weak. None of the three could truely handle him or satisfy him. He watched in the mirror as his huge cock shot another powerful load that hit the ceiling with a ‘smack’. “Fuckin’ man!” he roared as he aimed his cock at his reflection and shot a third huge load, then a fourth. Chris’s body quaked as he let himself go for the first time. His mind echoed with Mike’s confession—“it was you. all the time.”

“My power! My muscle! My drive! My desire!” Chris flexed his body, striations ripping from muscle and veins pulsing beneath paper thin skin. “I did this. I MADE ME A GOD. ME! No drugs. My desire. My will. MY MUSCLE!” Chris’s cock exploded with the largest load yet, drenching the mirror and the room with a huge load of jism. When it stopped, Chris looked around. Mike was awake. His cock hung limp and his own cum was spread on his chest. Obviously, Mike had enjoyed the show.

Mike stood up and walked over to a closet. He pulled out a small box and handed it to Chris. “I had it specially made,” he said. “I thought it might bring you luck, but, damn, you don’t need it.” He looked down, and saw that Chris was still hard. He started stroking his soft cock.

Chris opened the box. He pulled out some material, and unfurled it. It was a jock stop, but not an ordinary one. The pouch was huge, and looked to be made of reinforced lycra. The waist looked disproportionately small for the size of the pouch.

“Th… they didn’t believe me when I told them how big you were. I just hope it’s big enough.” Mike’s eyes wondered to Chris’s still hard cock.

Chris smiled. “Go ahead. You know you want to.”

Mike kneeled, and moved his head toward the huge bulbous knob of Chris’s cock. Mike opened his mouth as wide as he could and took the head in. He gagged as he pushed the huge shaft to the back of his throat. He only managed to get about 5 inches in, and he wrapped both hands around the rest. He tried to deep throat Chris’s monster, but Chris was too big. Mike looked up at Chris with wanton eyes.

“You want me to cum, don’t you?”

Mike grunted a desperate yes.

“I’m not going to hold back. You want to feel my full force, don’t you?”

Mike grunted an even more desperate yes, and forced as much of Chris’s meat into his throat as he could.

Chris threw his head back and allowed himself to explode once more. He heard the sound of Mike choke and felt Mike’s head fly off his cock. He continued to shoot another huge load. When he finished, he looked at Mike. Cum ran out of his mouth, and Chris had fired his jism over Mike’s face and chest.

Mike coughed, and wiped the cum from his lips. “Felt like a cannon went off.”

“I can go like that all night,” Chris said. “These big boys are no where near empty.”

Mike’s eyes widened and he rubbed his own drained organ.

“I better get some sleep, though. Got an asshole to crush tomorrow.” Chris extended his hand toward Mike and helped him up. The two walked over to the bed and got in.

Part 7

Mike arrived at the gym at 6AM. He had had only two hours of sleep, but Kaz had told him to arrive early and open up. The parking lot was deserted. That was good. Mike hadn’t had a chance to shower, and he was covered with residue of the orgy from the night before. He hurried into the locker room, stripped off his clothes and threw them into a laundry bin. He hurried to the shower. As the hot water hit his skin, he massaged his powerful body with soap. Slowly, his mind turned to the events from the night before. His balls ached and he began to massage them. “Fucking blue balls.” They felt huge and heavy in his hands, but his cock was raw.

“Playing with yourself thinking of me?” a voice said from behind him. Mike turned to see Kaz. He was wearing a black sweatsuit fit tight against his magnificent body. Mike actually felt his cock stir in anticipation of the days events.

“Just cleaning off Kaz. Got lucky last night and I didn’t have a chance to shower.”

Kaz grinned an evil smile. He stood staring at Mike, but Mike was noticing a change. Kaz’s clothes began to ripple and appeared to tighten very slowly. Kaz’s pillow-like pecs began to rise, and his arms were rising from his sides as his wing-like lats expanded.

“This is my lucky sweatsuit,” said Kaz softly as the seam around the front zipper slowly tore, revealing a massive bare chest underneath. “I wear it every time I compete, and I always win.” As he spoke, tears began to emerge around Kaz’s shoulders and under his arms. “But I have a problem,” he said as the zipper gave way and his powerful chest blossomed into view. “That stuff you gave me made me so big,” he raised his arms parallel to the ground, “that it’s now too small for me,” He jerked his arms suddenly into a powerful double bicep that ripped the arms off of the jacket. Kaz turned his head to beamed at each of his mountainous arms. “They look good, don’t they? Biggest biceps around. But I’m not just big there,” Kaz said, pulling the ragged fabric from his body and revealing every inch of his mighty torso. Kaz then crossed his arms below his pecs, the huge shelves and thick arms unable to share the same space. He continued to grin as his pants began to tear around flexing quads and hams, a sustained flex swelling the muscles larger and larger. Mike couldn’t help but stare as the fabric shredded. Kaz moved his hands to the waistband and then pulled, ripping the pants from his tree-like legs. Kaz had gone commando, and his more than ample cock swung like a vine between two redwoods.

Kaz looked at Mike and frowned. “That little pole of yours should be exploding by now. You ain’t never seen a body like mine! And I know you are jealous of it!”

“I told you Kaz, I got lucky last night.” Mike said, unable to admit yet that Chris was far bigger.

Kaz kept coming forward. “Yeah know what else that stuff did aside from turning me into the Incredible Hulk?” He was now standing beside Mike in the shower. “It makes me horny as hell. You think you got lucky last night. Shit,” Kaz raised his leg-sized arm and shoved it into Mike’s throat, pressing him against the wall. “You’re about to get luck now!”

Kaz put his hand on Mike’s cock as Mike realized what was happening. “Mmmmm… big family jewels,” he sighed as Mike began to struggle. Kaz squeezed Mike’s nuts, and noticed that Mike’s cock started to get harder. “Yeah, that’s better.”

“Stop!” Mike cried, pushing against Kaz but unable to move the mountain of a man.

“Resist all you want. You know how strong I am. You know you can’t hurt me. ‘Sides, I like it.” Kaz grabbed one of Mike’s hands and pulled it to his snaking cock. “See. Making me nice and hard. And huge. Not like that little nub you got. Shit, even my diamonds make your rocks look tiny. See…” Kaz forced Mike’s hand to grab his nuts. They were like oranges, and the thought of Tank’s grapefruit sized balls came back to him. In his mind, Mike compared the two men, and then thought of himself. He felt small, and shuddered at his own frailty.

“Yeah. You like being under the control of a real man, don’t you?” Kaz pressed harder into Mike. “So, how do you want it? Wanna suck my big boy?” Kaz moved his face to Mike, stuck his tongue out and licked Mike’s lips. “Or you want me to fuck you?” Kaz pressed his lips to Mike and kissed. “Shit, I owe you. I know you want it. Know all about you, fag. You know I got the freakiest muscle bod around. Huge cock. And shit, fucking good looks of a model.” He bit at Mike’s lips then kissed him again, but longer and deeper. “Yeah, I think I’ll fuck you.”

With a swift motion, Kaz twisted Mike’s arm around his back. Mike tried to resist, but found that Kaz could easily overpower him. The evil grin never left Kaz’s face as he forced Mike to bend over. Kaz was demonstrating a level of power he had only experienced once before—from Tank.

Kaz soaped up his iron dick with his free hand and positioned it on Mike’s ass. “Now you’ll understand. No one is bigger than me!” He pressed the monster head of his huge cock into Mike. “No one is stronger!” Mike gritted his teeth and tried not to scream as Kaz thrust his monster 11 inches deep into Mike with the power of his gargantuan legs. “I am the ultimate muscle freak!” Kaz pulled out then quickly thrust again.

“Oh fuck!” cried Mike.

“Say it wimp!”

“Yes. Fuck.”

“You like my huge cock, don’t you faggot!”

“Yes!” cried Mike.

“You want this muscle, don’t you wimp!”

“Yes Kaz! Yes.” Mike started to cum again, his blue balls aching from the fucking he was getting.

Kaz flexed hard into Mike. “Feel my iron body!”

“Oh god!” cried Mike. Suddenly, he felt Kaz’s cock explode in his gut. Kaz’s body became living steel as he pushed deep into Mike. Mike was pushed to the ground, and he felt the warmth of Kaz’s cum wash over him. Looking up, Kaz’s flexed body had swelled massive. Mike’s eyes widened at the sight of yet another muscle god.

“You’re a fucking monster!”

Kaz stood over Mike and struck a double bicep pose. “Biggest and baddest around! I’m gonna crush anyone who gets in my way.”

Suddenly doubts filled Mike’s brain. Kaz looked huge. Could even Chris beat him?

Part 8

Kaz saw the fear in Mike’s eyes. “That’s more like it, but I gotta change. The reps from the supplement companies are coming in a few minutes with some photographers, and I want to give them a preview in the gym.” Kaz walked to his bag and pulled out a red poser. It had a large section of V-shaped fabric held together with elastic string. Kaz smiled, then stepped into the poser. He took time to adjust his huge balls and thick cock. All Mike could do is stare as the red fabric showed every counter of Kaz’s manhood. “Now this is what a man should look like,” Kaz said as he turned and walked out.

Mike lay on the floor and curled into a fetal position. His mind was filled with images of Kaz and Tank, posing, flexing. First, Kaz was bigger, then Mike. He tried to make sense out of the two hyper masculine men as he felt small and inferior. He shuddered with anticipation at the thought of the competition about to occur.

Suddenly, he heard the door open. He tried to get up, but Tank and Joe saw him. Tank sniffed, and the smell of jism caught him. He grabbed Mike and saw the cum stains around his mouth.

“Look like Mikey here didn’t get enough of a real man last night, did you?” said Tank, holding him with one hand and involuntarily flexing his torso in anger.

“He… he… he… raped me!” cried Mike. “He’s so big. I couldn’t stop him. He’s huge and strong. I… I couldn’t help myself!”

“Rape?” Tanks asked, reaching down to Mike’s nuts and squeezing. “I should crush these right now.” He squeezes and Joe cries out, his eyes wattering before Chris stops. “Big, huh?” Tank smile and turned to Joe. “Big as me?”

Joe laughed.

“I’m not sure,” Mike said. “He’s massive and ripped and… you’re both so… I don’t know.”

Tank dropped the babbling man. “Well maybe you should be sure,” he said, stripping off his shirt and revealing his chest. Without stopping he pulled down his pants and undershorts, standing naked before both me. He turned to his gym bag and pulled out a bottle of tanning oil. He threw it at Mike. “Get to work! Feel my body then tell me that runt can compete with me!”

“But Tank,” Joe objected.

“It’s OK little guy, you can help him too.”

Joe wasted no time and took the bottle of oil from Mike, who was still too stunned to move. Joe lathered the lotion on his hands, and started to rub Chris’s left calf. Mike slowly fell to his knees, looked up at the muscle god with awe, then took the bottle and started on Chris’s right calf. He remembered moments before, laying at Kaz’s feet, thinking of the cows that that man had. His mind had difficulty comprehending the size of the muscles. He felt how hard Mike was, marvelling at the cuts and striations of his legs as he rubbed the tanning oil in.

“Man Tank,” said Joe as he moved up Chris’s thigh. “No wonder Mike’s mind is blown. I can’t even get my mind around these truck’s wheel’s you got! You’re the biggest guy I’ve ever seen. Shit, you’d make Markus Ruhl feel skinny!”

Chris felt his friend’s hands rubbing hard into his legs. Their hands feels weak compared to his muscle, and he flexed and tensed for them. As he flexes, he feels their fingers stuggle against the steely hardness of his body.

Joe’s hands were the first to reach his glutes and pendulous cock. He felt Mike rubbing harder and faster, struggling to catch up. But he felt something else. Mike’s hands were shaking. Christ started to say something, when he was distracted by Joe. Joe’s hands had begun to massage his glutes, and his fingers began to penetrate his crack. Joe began to massage the area and found Tank’s hole. Without thinking, he slipped a finger in, penetrating the muscle giant.

“What the fuck!” Tank screamed, flexing his ass and force Joe’s finger out but trapping his hand between the marble globes.

Joe screamed and tried to pull his hand out. His fingers cracked and were being crushed by Tank’s powerful muscles. It felt to Joe like two ton bounders had slid together, trapping his fingers. Joe’s shoulders and pecs flexed as he yanked on his hand, but his own bodybuilder muscle was too small and weak to affect Chris’s superior strength.

“Tank! Stop! I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. You’re.. FUCK!” Joe felt Tank flex even harder.

“You never do that again you runt!” Tank stopped flexing and Joe fell back on his ass, and started rubbing his hand. “If you do, I’ll really fuck Amy and spoil her so that nothing you can do will be able to satisfy her. She’s nearly at that point now. The only reason she’s willing to let you touch her is because I tell her to. But if I really let loose during sex, not even my order will be able to pull her off me.”

Joe just looked stunned, knowing that what Tank said was true.

Mike continued to rub the tanning oil on Tank as Joe lay on the floor, afraid to touch the angry god. Mike felt Chris’s ripped abs and obliques, marvelled at the christmas tree. He opened a second bottle of lotion because Tank’s enormous back was too big for just one bottle. It took almost a half hour to cover the giant with the lotion. As Mike rubbed every inch of Chris’s body, Tank flexed to let his friend know who the biggest and baddest man was.

Outside the locker room, the men heard Kaz. He was lifting and being photographed, assured that he’d win the competition and the supplement contract.

“He’s so sure,” Tank snickered. “Well, Mike. Still think he can beat this.” Now it was Tank’s turn to hit his double bicep pose. “So, Mikey, who’s the biggest?”

Mike took a step back, afraid to answer. “Chris,” he said softly. “I don’t know. You’re both monsters. Huge. I can’t get my mind around it. I…” his voice trailed off, “it could go either way.”

“Fuck that!” said Chris. “Get out there and let’s settle this!” He turned and grabbed his new posers, pulling them up hard. Next, he grabbed a sweat suit made special to hide his huge physique. As Mike left the locker room, he saw Chris putting powder on his palms, preparing to lift to the max.

Mike saw Kaz standing inside a smith machine. A photographer was snapping pictures as Kaz squatted four plates. Wearing only his posers, Kaz’s substantial manhood was more-than-obvious has his quads forced the bulge forward with each rep. Watching him was his girlfriend and four executives wearing suits.

“I normally do three times this weight,” Kaz explained, “but this is a good warm-up and I don’t want to make your readers too jealous.”

Mike walked over, trying to size up the massive muscle and compare it to Tank’s. Was Kaz bigger, or Tank? His mind fought to figure it out.

“Excuse me,” he said. “But I think we’re ready to begin.”

Kaz smile. “Guys, this is Mike. He owns this gym and has been very supportive of my working out here.” Kaz put the bar down, and strutted over to the smaller man. Putting his huge arm around Mike, he said, “Mike has been a great friend, helping me out hand helping me grow to the max.” Kaz smiled as the photographer took a picture of them. Kaz’s woman came over and felt his arm, and the photographer took another picture.

“Thanks K…”

Kaz shot him a look.

“Ron,” Mike said. “I, uh, really appreciate it.”

“So, Mike, how many people signed up to try and take me on,” Kaz said, flexing his free arm.

“Just one,” said Mike.

Kaz laughed. “I’m surprised we got even one,” he said, pulling his hand off Mike’s shoulder and hitting a most muscular pose. Mike looked like a deer in headlights as Kaz’s body expanded and ripped large. “Who is it? Joe?”

Mike gulped. “Chris… uh, you know, Tank.”

“Tank!” Kaz said, a look of surprised laughter on his face. “That wimp!” He turned to the executives laughing and said, “They call me the Kastet cause I’m a Tank killer. Kaz for short. Guy use to work out here until he saw how big and strong I was, then never came around again. Couldn’t take the pressure of a bigger guy coming into the gym.” Kaz smiled. “This oughta be fun. With Mike’s support, I’m about 75 pounds bigger, more ripped and a lot stronger.” Kaz turned to Mike. “So, where is the punk?”

“Right here,” Chris’s voice boomed as he walked out of the locker room, Joey a few steps behind him like a heeled dog.

Kaz glared at him, sizing up his competition. Chris’s sweatsuit hid his massive physique. Kaz thought Chris looked fat, and assumed the sweatsuit was to hid his untrained physique. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes,” replied Chris.

“Been training hard?”

Chris shrugged. “What’s first?”

Mike looked to Tank, then Kaz. Who was bigger? Stronger? It was time to find out. “Uh, bench press first, then curls, then squats. After that, we’ll have the posedown.”

“Let’s get started,” Chris said.

Ron nodded. “Sure thing fat boy. Let’s see, we did 600 last time we did this. Sounds like a good warm-up.”

Mike and Joe move to put 6 plates on a bar. They grabbed another 20 pounds to make it an even 605.

“I’ll go first,” said Kaz. He threw his arms back, stretching his massive pecs. He gave them a bounce, then sat on the bench. He laid down, the lifted the bar. With ease, he raised and lowered the bar as the watchers counted. At 18, he stopped, easily replacing the bar. “Still a bit light, but good for a bit of a pump,” he said, jumping off the bench with vigor. “Do you need me to take a bit of weight off?”

“Don’t bother,” said Tank, taking his place under the bar. With determination, he grabbed the bar. The onlookers started counting. At 15, Chris stopped and held the bar up. After a few seconds, Ron started to say something, but Chris continued at a faster pace, doing 25 reps before he replaced the bar. “You’re right, that’s too light. Better put another couple plates on that.”

Chris sat up and saw the hatred swelling in Ron’s eyes. Chris had shown him up, and that wasn’t in his plan.

Mike and Joe put another two plates on, and Ron got underneath with a new determination. He cranked out 10 quick reps. On the eleventh, he began to fail, and Joe and Mike helped him struggle to rack the weights.

Kaz stood up and Chris pushed him out of the way. “Put on two more plates,” he ordered. Mike and Joe obeyed, and Chris got under the bar. He took two deep breaths, then lifted the weight, cranking out 10 reps with the same speed Kaz had done the lighter weight. He stopped, breathed deeply, then did 10 more reps before replacing the bar.

“That was 20 reps!” cried the photographer, who snapped a picture as Chris sat up.

“Still kinda light for me,” said Chris. “Is this kid stuff over now?” he asked, looking at Ron who had done only half the number of reps at a lighter weight.

“Looks like Tank won this round,” said Mike.

“The fuck he did,” said Kaz, who pushed Mike aside and got on the bench. With a primal yell, he lifted the bar. Everyone watched as his arms shook as he lowered the weight once. Slowly he forced it up, then did a second rep, then a tentative third. On the fourth, he failed. The bar began to crush his chest as Mike and Joe tried to help him.

“Step aside,” said Chris as he walked over. He stood above Ron, his legs around each of his ears. Chris grabbed the bar and lifted it up, racking it for the helpless lifter. “They said I had won,” he said to Ron, who was rubbing his chest. Under his sweats, Tank flexed his stronger chest.

“That one, but next is arms and these cannons got more firepower than anyone’s guns.”

“Except maybe a Tank,” said Chris. “I’ll go first. Put on 4 plates. That’s a good warm-up.”

Ron’s eyes widened. He knew he could do that weight, but not as a warm-up. Chris must be trying to psych him out.

Chris grabbed the bar. With a grin of confidence, he started to curl. The photographer and the suits began to count, at fifteen, he stopped, looked at Kaz, then did five more, staring at the man. With ease, he lowered the bar.

“Want me to take any off,” he snickered.

“Get out of my way and let me show you how it’s done.” Kaz had to do it. This was his chance to make it. He was huge, and these men would pay him to be huge. He grabbed the bar. Shit, it was heavy. He started, doing curls. He did eight and his arms began to burn. He forced out two more as the fire moved down his arm. With gritted teeth, he did one more. On twelve, he failed to raise the bar. He dropped it to the ground.

“That’s two for me, or do you want me to prove the power of these cannons!” Chris said, flexing his arm so that even the oversized sweatsuit strained to contain his mass. “We can put on another 50 pounds if you like? That’s a good workout weight.”

“Fuck you,” said Kaz, his breathing heavy from the effort. “We still have legs. Remember last time, you doing 6 plates and me doing 8? Well, rack up 12 now and watch these wheels roll over you!” Ron sat and watched as Mike and Joe racked the weights. He didn’t say a word, but anger swelled in his eyes, anger Kaz would use to fuel his power. With force, he got up and walked with determination to the cage. He got under the weight and lowered his ass to the ground, then exploded upward powerfully. The first rep was followed by an easy second, then third. After ten, Kaz was slowing, his massive quads pumped large and rubbing against each other as he did an eleventh rep. His face was contorted in pain as he did twelve, yet he forced out a thirteenth. His face was so red it looked as if he’d explode and sweat was pouring down every inch of his massive ripped body, but he tentatively went down for a fourteenth rep and with a scream, managed to complete it before racking the weights. “Beat that,” he panted to Chris as he took a step. To make his point, he flexed one of his swollen legs, showing the rivers of veins that pumped above deep striations and cuts.

“OK,” was all Chris said, as he walked over and grabbed two more plates. Adding them to either side, he did a few deep knee bends to loosen up before getting under the weight. Imitating Ron, he powered out the first 10 reps, but without stopping, did two more. He stood there, sweat pouring down his face as he nodded to Ron, then did four more reps with determination before reracking the weights. Chris’s face was as red as Kaz’s from the determined effort, but once again he had out-muscled Kaz.

“Do you wanna try that?” Chris asked. “I’d be happy to spot you again.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice as evidence of his contempt for Ron’s superior attitude—an attitude he had proved undeserved.

At this point, Kaz looked to Joe and Mike. He realized he had been set up. The fire in his eyes was directed toward both. He stepped over to them and whispered, “You’re dead men,” before putting a false grin on his face. “Gee Chris, don’t know how you got to be so strong, but there’s another part of this competition. I’m at 4% bodyfat at 330lbs.” Kaz moved his left hand to his briefs and adjusted himself, making sure the photographer and suits noticed the huge bulge. “I know most power lifter guys have high body fat to maintain their strength.” Looking straight at the executives, “That’s what makes me so special. Strong enough to compete with the strongest guys, but ripped and huge like no other.” To make his point, he flexed into a most muscular pose that made one of the men gasp.

That was Tank’s moment to act. He grabbed the top of the sweat suit and with one outward swipe of his hands, he ripped the top off, revealing his swollen pecs, cannonball shoulders, massive arms, 8 pack abs and defined obliques. Dropping the cloth, he swiped his hands down his sides then grabbed the top of the sweat pants and with the same motion, ripped them from his body, revealing thighs that looked like a 3D map, mountains and valleys rippling though he was unflexed. His cows were thick and ripped. He stood still for a second to let everyone take in the sight of him, and he heard Ron let out a slight gasp. Following Ron’s example he adjusted his larger bulge in his posers. “You’re probably right about most guys,” said Chris. “But 360 and 3%, I guess other guys do look puny.” He looked right at Ron as he said puny, letting him know his ultimate downfall was at hand. Chris walked over to Ron, bumping his chest into Ron’s and making him take a step back. “We promised these good people a show, now pose. Joey, you call it.”

Looking at the two combatants, he called “Side chest.”

Both muscle monsters faced each other. Angling their arms, their bis and tris flexed. Twisting, abs became marble blocks with thick meaty pecs rippling to life and steely hardness. Each man sized the other up, and Chris grinned. Every muscle of his was thicker, harder, more ripped than Ron’s.

Ron realized it too, and tried to flex harder, but he wasn’t man enough. He tried to restrain himself, but he felt his cock pulse and start to slowly expand.

“Lats,” Joey said.

The men turned forward, placed their arms on their flexing, thinning waists, flexed their man tits and spread their wings.

“God, look at him…” It was Ron’s girlfriend, but she wasn’t talking about Ron.

Ron looked beyond the spectators into a mirror on the other side. He compared himself to Chris and realized he looked skinny compared to the mass packed onto the giant next to him. To make things worse, Chris moved behind Ron, then flexed again, expanding his body larger than Ron’s, Chris’s muscular meat visible on every side of the thinner man.

Ron’s cock was becoming noticeably larger now as it strained in his red posers.

“Double bi”

Still behind Ron, Chris flexed his Himalayan arms. Ron had no choice but to do the same, only to see his guns dwarfed by Tank’s cannons. Ron actually shook as he struggled, and failed, to flex bigger than Tank. Chris heard Ron mutter, “no” under his breath.

Chris’s own manhood was expanding now, but Chris didn’t care. Let everyone take in the sight of a real man. He straightened one arm into a classic archer pose, and didn’t notice that the skimpy fabric of his specially made posers was failing. The fabric snapped, hitting Ron in the ass then falling to the floor at Chris’s feet.

Surprised, Ron jumped to the side revealing a now naked Chris posing his winner’s body. Chris’s 14 inch monster was pointed toward the ceiling as he turned to the back and striking a rear lat spread.

“He’s a fucking anatomy chart,” he heard one of the executives say. “Look at that definition. His glutes are shredded!”

Chris turned to face front, and flexed his quad. Only now did he realize his posers had failed. He looked up, seeing ever man watching him struggle to hide an erection. Ron was subtly stroking his posers, and the photographer had a noticeable wet spot.

“Sorry,” Tank said, “Didn’t notice. Guess they don’t make posers for guys like me.”

“Yeah,” said Kaz’s girlfriend. “Real men.” She stepped forward and walked over to Chris, seemingly oblivious to Ron’s presence. “God I want you to fuck me,” she said, trying to wrap a hand around Chris’s thick cock.

“Hey,” said Ron angrily. “She’s with me.” Ron stepped close, trying to intimidate Chris with his own monster-like size.

“She wants a real man,” said Chris, who grabbed Ron’s posers and ripped them off him. “Let me give that skinny, small cock of yours some help. As you can see, mine has a mind of its own and doesn’t need help when it wants its freedom.” Turning to the busty woman, Tank said, “Care to compare?”

She dropped to her knees and grabbed Ron’s stiff organ. She stroked both, then put her mouth over Ron’s before stuffing Chris’s down her throat. She pulled her hand away from Ron as concentrated both hands on Tank. Ron tried to step away, humiliated, but Chris grabbed his hard cock. He started stroking it.

“Bet it feels good to have a real man’s hand on this,” he said as his forearms rippled showing how hard he was squeezing Ron. Chris flexed his free bicep in Ron’s face.

That was all it took. Ron shot a huge load as he screamed, “God. No! Fuck! So strong. FUCK!”

Chris laughed at Ron’s humiliation. “What a fucking wimp,” he said. “Ronnie, you better get a new nickname. Guess I proved you ain’t no tank killer. You’re just a pathetic, puny, runt. A muscle wannabe. Well, I got all the muscle here as these gentlemen can see. Now get your shit and get out of here. I’ll return your girlfriend to you after I fuck her into tomorrow, that is, if she wants you after being with a real man. Me!”

Ron turned. He was visibly shaking. He ran into the locker room and came out a minute later. Not saying a word, he left the gym.

Description A star alpha male has to take back his gym from a bully, except the only way is to grow himself bigger than the already monstrous interloper.

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