The roads were particularly slick this night as he carefully made his way home from his firm’s Century City offices. The 10 Freeway had become a parking lot by 8 pm, so he decided to try his luck on the surface roads. The headlights of oncoming traffic glaring on the wet pavement of Hollywood Boulevard made Scott squint. As he waited interminably at a red light, he noticed a huge black limousine glide effortlessly to a stop at the far side of the street. A group of young street kids approached the car, laughing and conversing with someone inside. “Must be nice” Scott muttered under his breath, admiring the elegance of the car. The kids turned and walked on, snickering to each other. As the limo slowly pulled away and headed down the Boulevard, Scott glimpsed a solitary word emblazoned on the back plate of the car: MUSCLECLUB. The light changed, and Scott pulled away in the opposite direction. “Well whoever that was, I hope he’s got a goddamn tv set in there that gets ESPN!” It was already 8:45 and Scott was only about halfway home. “Oh well”, he sighed, “there’s always next year.”

Scott had rented a small one-bedroom guesthouse in the Glendale section of LA. If he had any hope of catching the end of the competition on tv, he’d have to take a shortcut through the Los Feliz hills and avoid any more traffic jams. Winding his way up a quiet canyon road, Scott soon realized his was the only car for miles around. Although he’d taken this shortcut a few times before, he’d never been up here in the dark and the rain. Somewhere along the way, he must have taken a wrong turn, and now was completely lost. As the rain became heavier, he squinted to see the road in front on him. “Great, all I need is a flat tire up here and Triple A would never find me.” Scott began to envy the rest of LA stuck somewhere down below him in bumper to bumper traffic. At least they weren’t lost.

He was about to turn back when something suddenly dashed in front of the headlights. “What the f—“ he yelled and slammed on the brakes. The car swerved 90 degrees and skidded to a halt at the side of the road. Gasping for breath, Scott calmed himself, trying to figure out what the shape could have been. It was too big for a coyote… perhaps a deer? As he was about to shift back into gear, he glanced to the right and saw a man’s face staring back at him through the passenger window. “Oh fuck!” he screamed as he threw the car into drive, hoping to make a fast escape. He slammed his foot down hard on the pedal, but his two back tires were stuck in a mudslick off the edge of the pavement. They spun wildly, unable to grip the road. The man pressed his hands against the passenger window. “No, wait! Please! I need help! Please don’t go! You’ve got to help me mister, please!”

“What do you want?” Scott shouted as he slammed the gearshift into reverse. The wheels continued to slip in the wet dirt. As he met the stranger’s gaze, he could see that this man didn’t seem threatening, but was more genuinely frightened of something. Unable to move the car in either direction, Scott slammed the gearshift into park.

“Please, before they find me, you gotta get me outta here – please mister!”

Every ounce of common sense Scott possessed told him not to unlock the door -- that at the very least he would end up carjacked or worse, lying dead by the side of this deserted canyon road while his Honda disappeared over the hill. But there was something in this guy’s eyes – a sort of innocence -- that moved Scott instinctively. He could see that the man was in some serious trouble and he couldn’t just abandon him there, even if he could get his car to move. Tentatively, he reached over and pulled up on the lock. The passenger door opened and the man leaned in quickly -- “Thanks mister.”

“Wait – my tires are stuck in the mud, and –“

“Oh. I’ll take care of that.” The man circled around to the back of the car and pushed. The Honda lurched back onto the pavement as Scott gently pressed on the gas.

It wasn’t until the stranger stepped into the car and closed the door that Scott was able to get a really good look at him. He must have been about six feet tall, and was built – really built. He wore a mud-stained grey sweatshirt that stretch tightly across a pair of powerful delts and arms. His chest looked huge and heaved up and down as he struggled to catch his breath. His rain-soaked shirt was torn in several places across the side and front, revealing what looked like a rock-hard set of abs. Scott could see the incredible thickness of his thighs through the man’s grey sweatpants, the bottoms of which were pushed up to his knees, revealing a pair of huge, hard diamond-shaped calves. Even hunched over in the passenger seat of his little Honda, Scott could tell this man was a serious bodybuilder. Maybe his instincts weren’t so bad after all.

Just then they heard the muffled sound of several dogs barking loudly from somewhere far behind the car. “Oh SHIT!” the man shouted. “Mister, please get us outta here NOW!”

“OK, ok!” Scott stepped on the gas they headed and up and over the crest of the canyon road and down into the valley. “Calm down buddy! Who was after you? Listen, what ever happened it’s over now. You’re safe.”

“I hope so” the man sighed, tears rolling down his face. “I hope so.”

They drove on for several minutes. “So where are you headed buddy? What’s your name?”

“My name’s Justin. And I have no idea where I’m going.” The stranger wiped his eyes. “I just had to get away.”

“Away from what?” Scott questioned. “What was so bad?” But the big man was silent. “Listen,” Scott offered, "let me get you something to eat and some dry clothes. That’s the least I can do.”

“Really? Thanks.” As Justin managed a slight smile, Scott was struck by how beautiful his face was. His wet black hair framed features that fell somewhere between boyishly handsome and chisled. He had soft brown eyes and full lips that made Scott a little dizzy. A thick growth of stubble indicated he probably hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. He turned away as they headed for the little guesthouse in Glendale.

Scott unlocked the door to his apartment. “Sorry about the mess. I guess I wasn’t really expecting company”. Justin sat his massive frame down on the sofa and noticed a copy of Flex magazine lying on the coffee table.

“You into bodybuilding?” he asked.

“Um, well yeah.” Scott answered nervously. “More as a fan I guess. I mean, I work out, but I’m no bodybuilder myself. I love going to competitions though.” He emerged from the bedroom and handed Justin a pair of sweatpants and an XL sweatshirt. “Here. These are the biggest things I have. I hope they fit.”

“Thanks”

“So what about you? You into bodybuilding too?” As Scott asked the question, Justin stood up and lifted the mud-stained shirt over his head. Scott gasped. Justin’s torso was a solid mass of rippling muscle. His thick neck gave way to a huge, round set of super-wide delts, from which hung a pair of bulging 23” arms. Veins roped along them all the way down his thick forearms. His hairless chest was two perfect slabs of massive muscle, gently flexing with each breath he took. His abs were like eight perfectly symmetrical hunks of carved granite, rock-hard and glistening in the livingroom light, disappearing into the tight waistband of his rain-soaked sweatpants.

“Yeah, you could say that” Justin answered. As he tried to pull on the clean shirt, the muscles of his shoulders and chest bulged against the tight cotton. He could barely fit his arms into the narrow sleeves. “Man, I don’t think this shirt’s gonna cut it on me. You mind it I go without it?”

“Umm—no, not at all” Scott stammered. “Make yourself comfortable. But if the shirt didn’t fit, I don’t think the sweatpants will either.”

“Oh, right.” Justin said as he handed the dry clothes back to his host. “You got a towel or something?”

“Yeah, sure, hold on.” Scott ran to the bathroom and returned with a clean white bath towel.

“It’s better than nothing I guess.” With that Justin slid off his old sweats and stood naked in front of Scott before quickly wrapping the towel around his waist. Trying not to look too obvious, Scott managed to catch a glimpse of Justin’s ample cock, as it hung down between two of the biggest quads he’d ever seen. Thick ropes of muscle, visible through the tight skin, clung to his outer thighs. They bulged and flexed as he shifted his weight. Towel in place, Justin sat back down on the sofa. “Scott, I don’t know how to thank you, man. You saved my life tonight.”

“Well you can start by telling me what happened. What were you running away from? And why?”

Justin paused. “Scott how old to you think I am?”

“Huh? I dunno, late twenties? Thirty? Why? How old are you?

“Scott I’m 18”

“What? You can’t be. No 18-year-old has a body like that. C’mon, you look like an IFBB pro for Christ’s sake.”

“I know. But I really did turn 18 last month. Look man, six months ago I looked just like any other skinny teenager. But that was before I joined The Club”

“The Club?” It was hard enough for Scott to believe that this stranger, this musclegod was actually sitting right there in his living room, in a towel no less. After all, his whole evening had been geared to watching the Olympia on television and jacking off, and now a man who looked like he was Mr. O sat before him, live and in the flesh! But to think that this specimen of male muscled perfection was only 18 was more than Scott could accept. “Justin, what’s going on here…”

“No man, I’m being totally serious! Listen, you gotta believe me. And you can’t repeat a word of this to anyone – not anyone! If they find out—" Justin’s voice rose as he became more and more agitated. Scott could see that he was dead serious. At least he believed what he was about to say.

“Okay Justin. It’s okay. Just tell me what happened.”

And Justin proceeded to tell Scott the whole story. How he had grown up in a poor town in western Louisiana, how his mother had died when he was 14, and how his stepfather spent most of his time drinking himself unconscious at the local saloon. Justin learned to fend for himself early on, but after almost a year of constant abuse at his stepfather’s hand, he finally decided to run away. He made his way to Los Angeles and was living on the streets of Hollywood by the time he reached 16. Survival was difficult, even after he’d hooked up with a gang of other street kids who formed a makeshift family of sorts.

“About six months ago, I was really nearing the end of my rope. One night I was hangin on the Boulevard up near Highland, and this big black limo pulls up. The window rolls down and this dude calls me over. He asks me if I wanted to go for a ride. Now understand that I never did no trickin on the street – plenty of guys did, but I wasn’t one of them. But I figured, when would I ever get to see the inside of a stretch, so I got in. There was this older Asian man named Mr. Yuki, and this huge black dude named Charlie. I’d never seen anybody that big before – no fat, just solid muscle. So this Mr. Yuki hands me a copy of a muscle magazine and asks me if I’ve ever seen a bodybuilder before. I told him some friends and I used to work out when I was a kid in Louisiana, but I’d never seen a real bodybuilder in person, not until Charlie that is. So he asks me how would I like to look like the guys in the magazine. I told him sure, but I didn’t really know that much about workin out. In fact, I spent most of my time just trying to find enough to eat. So he tells me he can take care of everything – offer me a place to live, the best food, supplements, training, clothes – a total new life. Well I didn’t have much of a life up til then, so after a while, I figured why not. I’d move into this rich guy’s fancy house for a few months and split when it got boring. And all I had to so was work out a little bit? Why the fuck not. Anyway, it was better than the streets.

“So we end up at his place – this HUGE mansion up in the hills. It was surrounded by this big wall and barbed wire. There must have been 50 rooms in the place, 15 bedrooms, a pool, a huge gym, the works. ‘Welcome to Muscleclub, Justin’ Yuki says, and introduces me to the other five guys who lived there. These guys were all huge like Charlie, ‘cept they were all white. Talk about Mr. Olympia, shit! These were all massive muscledudes, and if Yuki thought I could ever look like them he was crazy. But I decided to play along.

“After a few days lounging around and eating my fill, Charlie tells me that I’d be starting the treatment in the morning. Whatever. Turns out ‘the treatment’ was this formula Yuki invented which they injected into us every day before breakfast. Some kind of super supplements. Then we each spent an hour in a machine that looked kinda like a tanning bed. I still don’t know how it worked and I never did get a tan. But after the second day, my body started aching all over, like something invisible was pulling and stretching at my muscles from every direction. It freaked me out, but Charlie told me the only way to stop the pain was to start training with weights. Said it was my muscles achin to be worked. So he taught me how. For the next several weeks I learned how to train every muscle group in the body using perfect form. And pretty soon the aching stopped. Then everything changed. Suddenly I was able to lift huge amounts of weight with total ease. I was curling with 100 lbs in each hand, benching 600 or 700 – it was unreal. And my body started growing. Every day I could feel my arms and legs and chest getting bigger. At first it was a rush. Then after a couple months, it started freakin me out. But every time I tried to quit, the pain came back.

“So we kept getting our treatments in the morning, eating and training, eating and training again, and again until nightfall. The other guys didn’t even seem to notice me much – I was still half their size. But not for long. Every day before bed, Mr. Yuki came to our rooms and made us flex while he measured our muscles. That’s how I knew how much I was growing. After three month of this shit my biceps were already 22”, my chest was 50”, my quads were 35”. I was three inches taller and my beard was comin in thick. I was big all over – ALL over, if you catch my meaning. Pretty soon I could hardly recognize my own reflection in the mirror.

“After a while, the place felt more like a prison than a club. I hadn’t been outside of the compound in almost 5 months. Then suddenly the treatments stopped. At first the pain returned, but as long as I kept working out and maintaining my muscle size, it went away. Then one night I overheard Yuki and Charlie in the kitchen talking about sending one of the other musclekids named Joey away. Turns out there’s this secret group of super-rich musclefreaks in Asia – Hong Kong, Bangkok, and places I ain’t never even heard of – who are willing to pay up to $5 million for their own personal bodybuilder slaves. So Yuki, who invented this formula for superfast muscle growth, goes down to Hollywood and finds a bunch of young white streetkids with no families, no connections, no hope, and offers them a place in The Club. What he doesn’t tell them is that he’s gonna sell them overseas into white slavery after he’s made them huge! And that’s $5 million split two ways by Yuki and Charlie – for each of us!

“I didn’t believe a word of it, but then two days later, Joey was packing his bags and heading for the airport. He thought they were flying him to New York to guest pose at a big bodybuilding competition – the stupid shit! When he didn’t come back, I knew what I heard in the kitchen was true, and I decided to get the fuck outta there. “

“Jesus Christ Justin,” Scott exhaled. “How did you get out?”

“Tonight after dinner, Charlie asked me to help him carry the food outside for the dogs. Yuki keeps six huge Rottweillers locked up in a pen, and we had to carry a couple hundred-pound bags of dog food out to the shed next to their cages. While Charlie lifted the bags up into the shed, I noticed some of the bricks under my feet were loose in the ground. I guess something took over deep inside me – I reached down and picked one up. When he stepped back out of the shed, Charlie didn’t even see the brick as I slammed it down on his head. He went down HARD. And I started running. I tried scaling the wall but it was too slick from the rain. I ran to the far end of the yard where there was some kinda pine tree growing up next to the wall. I managed to pull myself up the tree high enough to jump over the wall, catching my sweatshirt on the barbed wire. But it tore free and I fell to the ground outside. It was pitch dark and pouring down rain, and I had no shoes on and only the sweats on my back. Worse yet had no idea what part of town I was in, or even if I was still in LA. That’s when I started running towards the pair of headlights I saw off in the distance winding along that canyon road. I tried to get far enough ahead of you to flag you down, but you were moving too fast. By the time I reached the road you were almost past, so I jumped out in front of the car. Guess I figured if you couldn’t stop, you’d probably kill me and end this nightmare once and for all. Lucky for me, you stopped.”

“Jesus… so those dogs we heard, were Yuki’s?” Scott asked incredulously.

“Yeah. Charlie probably came to, leashed up a few of them and came after me. I know he would have killed me if they’d caught up.”

Justin leaned back into the sofa and rubbed his eyes. Scott was overwhelmed. Stories like this only happened in the movies – not in real life. And certainly not to him. But as crazy as it sounded, he believed Justin – there was no other explanation for him, or how he came to be on that deserted canyon road. “So what are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know man.” Justin sighed. “I can’t go back on the streets, not lookin like this. I got no money, no place. I didn’t think that far ahead when I ran – guess I’m pretty fucked.”

Scott leaned forward and touched the back of Justin’s hand. “Listen, you’re safe now. You’re gonna stay here with me until we figure out what to do next.”

“Really?” Justin smiled for the first time in hours and his handsome face glowed with relief. “That’s twice you saved me tonight, bro.”

“Yeah,” Scott laughed. “All I wanted to do was get home tonight in time to watch the Mr. Olympia on television. Funny how unexpected life can be.”

“Well listen, Scott, I know it’s not like watchin the Olympia, but if you wanna see some posing, I learned to do it pretty good back at the Club…”

“You’d do that… for me?”

Justin rose to his feet. “I owe you my life man. It’s the least I can do.” With that, Justin pushed the coffee table out of the way and stood towering over Scott, the white towel still tightly wrapped around his waist. He lifted both arms straight up over his head and slowly lowered them into a front double biceps pose. His massive 23” guns swelled into two perfect mounds of solid muscle. Thick veins snaked along the double peaks and up his huge forearms. Below them Scott could see Justin’s lats as they flared from underneath his arms, tapering down to his tight, 31” waist. His chest swelled as the skin stretched across Justin’s two massive pecs. He seemed to hold the pose forever as he gently twisted his pelvis, making his washboard abs look even harder and more cut. He slowly lowered his arms and moved into a hands-on-hips most muscular pose that made his entire upper torso a bulging mass of ripped, flexing muscle.

Scott could feel the hard-on snaking down his left pant leg. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who noticed. Nervously, he glanced up at Justin, fearing this might put an end to his muscle display. But Justin slipped his fingers under the edge of the white bath towel, untucked it from around his waist and let in fall to his feet. Scott slowly leaned forward in his seat, reached out his hand and touched Justin’s right quad. He had never felt anything so hard in his life. He leaned further forward and pressed his mouth against it just as the young musclegod flexed. Justin felt the softness of Scott’s lips caressing the rivers of cabled muscle that ran up and down his thigh. Scott intentionally avoided Justin’s swelling cock and ran his tongue up and across the grooves of his massive set of abs, curving upwards and coming to rest on his bulging pecs. Justin squeezed into a front-lat-spread that made the smaller man’s knees tremble. Scott thrust his hands under Justin’s arms to feel the awesome size of his flexed lats, while gently kissing every inch of his powerful chest and running the tip of his tongue slowly up through the canyon separating Justin’s massive pecs.

Justin reached down and pulled Scott’s shirt up and over his head. Soon both men were standing naked before each other. Justin flexed his massive bicep in front of Scott’s face, allowing him to explore every curve of the rock-hard surface. He thrust straight down making his tricep almost leap off his arm. Scott ran his fingers across the ridges of striations in the giant muscle, then up over the huge roundness of Justin’s shoulder and across his steel traps. Although he stood 5 inches taller than Scott, Justin pulled him close to his massive body. Bending over, he pressed his full lips into Scott’s. As their tongues entwined, Scott could feel Justin’s ample cock pressing hard against his stomach. Dropping to his knees, Scott plunged his mouth around Justin’s thick shaft, making him moan. He ran his hands up and down the back of the muscleman’s legs, feeling the rippling power of his hamstrings, then down to his massive diamond-shaped calves and back up. Justin pressed his huge flexing quads into Scott's shoulders as the smaller man enveloped his cock. Tasting the precum as it oozed out, Scott pulled back just before the musclegod shot a thick spray of cum over over his shoulder onto the sofa. Scott’s own hard cock exploded shooting cum between Justin’s legs.

Spent, and with his eyes closed, Justin fell onto the sofa, running his huge hands slowly across his perfectly muscled body and gently moaning with pleasure. Scott crawled to sit next to him and sighed.

“Well?” Justin said after a few minutes had passed. “Was that better than watching the Olympia?”

“Are you kidding? I just made love to the NEXT Mr. Olympia!” exclaimed Scott.

“Huh?” Justin questioned. “What do you mean?”

“Justin, babe, I’ve got plans for you. By this time next year, you’re gonna be the most famous bodybuilder in the world. And me? I’m gonna be your business manager!”

Justin smiled as he pulled his new friend close to his incredible body. •