Justin was 24 years old, about five foot ten with blonde hair and blue eyes. A real looker. He worked out six days a week. Oh yeah, muscle was his second most powerful fetish. Justin was very into pure, unadulterated muscle. He needed muscle on himself and his fantasy lover. With his daily work-outs, and added supplements (i.e. protein and creatine), Justin had so far garnered a 45” chest, 15 ½” biceps while maintaining a 30” waist. He was cut, lean, but very muscled-up. And he loved it.

What really got Justin off was muscle and smoke. Everynight after his routine work-out at the New York Sports on 8th and 23rd, Justin would head back to his apartment for a hot mirror session of chaining reds and flexing muscle. His fantasy was that each drag of his Marlboro Red would yield more huge muscle and super-human strength. Fuck, he wanted that bad.

And in Tony he pretty much met his match. A young, Latin homo-thug, Tony was from the Bronx. He smoked at least a pack of Newports a day and worked out every day. At 6’1, Tony had managed almost 200 pounds of pure muscle. His lightly dark-skinned frame sported 47” pecs, 18” biceps and a slim 29” waist. He too loved muscle and wanted more. He didn’t share Justin’s fetish for smoke, but obliged as long as it meant some hard, flexing muscle sex.

It was a cold November evening just before Thanksgiving when Justin and Tony stepped out of the gym. Both dressed in full homo-thug attire: big, black Northface bubble jackets, baggy jeans and timberlands, they each lit up a smoke almost immediately. They loved the thug-wear – the huge bubble jackets making them look both bad-ass and even more fucking huge. Justin often fantasized about busting out of his jacket with real, huge massive power and muscle. Justin, a Red of course and Tony, his usual Newport. Justin had just finished moving into his new apartment on 21st Street, just off 8th Avenue, and was ready for a long night of unpacking. Tony was headed home to the Bronx as he had one last day of work before the long Thanksgiving holiday. They walked and shared a nice hot smoke, before kissing each other good-bye for the night. Tony left Justin with a mouthful of Newport smoke before they went their separate ways, knowing it was exactly what Justin liked. “Fuck yeah,” was Justin’s only response. It totally made him feel so fuckin pumped.

Justin walked into his new pad, with a second Marlboro in his teeth. He was not looking forward to a long night of unpacking. The full-length mirror was already uncovered, so he took a moment to take a look at himself, smoking in his Northface, looking so fucking huge. He loved that feeling. Made him hard almost immediately. He loved the idea of living alone and filling his new place with thick Marlboro smoke.

As Justin worked around the apartment, dressed in nothing but gym shorts, always sporting a Red between his lips, he came across a vase in the corner, by the kitchenette. Weird. “That’s not mine,” he said to himself as he approached the vase. He picked it up. It was pretty ugly, and very dusty. “Must’ve been left here by the previous tenant.”

He began to wipe it clean, and as he was about to just throw it in with the trash, it flew out of his hand. “Fuck!” The vase landed on the floor and smoke began to erupt from it. And the next thing Justin knew, a woman was standing in front of him in the apartment.

“What the fuck? Who are you?”

“I came from that vase.”

“What? Fuck no. How did you get in here?”

“You released me from my vase. And for that I shall repay you.”

“Huh?”

“Your wish is my command. I grant you three wishes. You may wish whatever it is you crave. After that, me and the vase will be out of your life forever.”

“What? I don’t get this.”

“There’s nothing to get. You are granted three wishes.”

“Three wishes?”

“Yes.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Justin didn’t have to think. He knew what he wanted. But he had to be able to explain it perfectly.

“Well, first I would like a never-ending carton of Marlboro Reds. Every time the carton empties or is taken away, a new carton appears in its place.”

“Granted.”

“And those Marlboro Reds will provide me with huge muscle and strength. I mean, every cigarette and every drag will give me more muscle and more superhuman strength. I’m talking muscled pecs, biceps, thighs, chiseled abs, the works.”

“Granted.”

“And anyone I choose to smoke those Reds will also see increased muscle and strength.”

“Done.” And with that the woman disappeared along with her vase.

Justin was not sure what to think. He was left alone in his apartment. Nothing had happened. He managed to chain three more Reds, but no new muscle. The only cigarettes in the room were the carton he had bought himself earlier that day. And they didn’t seem to be doing the trick.

“What a fuckin cunt.” He flexed in the mirror, but no more muscle than he had earlier. “Maybe this was all a dream.” Justin could not explain what happened. “That was some fucked up shit, whatever it was,” as he peered at the end of his smoke.

Justin went about his business cleaning and unpacking. But, as he threw some clothes into each drawer of the dresser, he found a surprise waiting for him in the bottom drawer. A carton of Marlboro Reds.

“Fuck! This must be it.” Justin grabbed the carton and ripped out a pack. But what should happen? Because he’d taken the first carton out of the drawer, a second appeared in its place. “This is it! This is fuckin it!” He packed that first pack of Reds and lit up immediately. It tasted the same. But he knew something would happen.

After about an hour of chaining Reds and watching himself in the mirror, Justin suddenly both saw and felt something. He had put on a tank top to accentuate any increased size, should it really happen. And happen it did.

The warmth Justin felt was incredible. He had been feeling it the whole time. And now he saw the results. Muscles were bulging where they’d never bulged before. He stood, taking deep drags of his Red, holding up a double-bicep pose in the mirror. Looking at his biceps grow, literally with every drag. His pecs were pushing out from behind the tank. They were bulging and increasing with size every minute. He felt great. He felt fucking HUGE. “FUCK YEAH,” he screamed, smoke billowing from his lips. The tank began to tear down the middle. The rips became more pronounced as he flexed his chest and moved into a most muscular pose.

All the time, the Red dangling from his lips. The fucking muscled-power smoke of his Red filling his body with new, HUGE, MASSIVE, MUSCLE.

As he watched him rip out of his tank and shorts, he stroked his hard cock, hard and fast. With one bicep flexed and the other arm stroking his cock, and with yet another Red dangling, he managing to cum. And cum buckets. He fucking came all over that mirror and the floor around him. The orgasm was incredible and his size appeared to increase as he came. “AHHHH! FUCK YEAH! FUCKING HUGE MARLBORO MUSCLE! I FUCKIN NEED MORE HUGE MUSCLE. MORE SMOKE. OH FUCK YEAH!” was all he could scream as the orgasm seemed to last forever.

Justin knew his life would be different now. Marlboros and muscle. That was all he needed. He was now the hottest, biggest fucking Marlboro muscle thug he’d ever come across. He looked himself over. Huge smooth pecs that must’ve hit at least 50”. Biceps that peaked at 21 or 22”. And legs – fuckin massive tree trunks of pure muscle and power. His dick got hard at the site of his new muscled-up bod. And this was only the beginning. He was hard just looking at himself and thinking about future MARLBORO MUSCLE GROWTH.

And now it was time to let Tony know. •