After I recovered, we got together every weekend for sex sessions that would start Friday afternoon and go until Monday morning. Every week he was just a little bit bigger. For the next six months, his body exploded into that of a real freak. His legs and chest grew to, well, freakish, proportions. He grew in height as well. Now I looked up at him even when I was standing. That felt so right. His waist and hips stayed narrow and strong; tiny compared to the size of his other muscles. I could barely get my arms around his chest at that long marathon sex session. But now, when I wrapped my legs around his strong waist, to place my hungry hole over his growing cock, I had to grab around his thick muscle corded neck. There was no way I could get my arms around his gargantuan chest.

The sex was never disappointing. After a weekend of sex with my muscle freak I would be sexually spent, but energized with desire to get big for my muscle god. I wanted to be big for my muscle god, so that his sex would be even better. I knew he had other worshipers that visited his temple during the week. He assured me that I was his favorite. But I wanted to make sure that remained the case. Getting bigger became my second reason for being, after servicing him. I quit my job and spent all my time during the week at the gym. I started taking creatine and all kinds of other supplements. I was eating huge amounts of food to supply my body with the building blocks for more muscle.

It became clear to me, and eventually my muscle god confided in me that he was getting a bio-genetic treatment that had pushed his muscle growth genes into hyper drive. He noticed that I was working out and getting bigger and he seemed pleased. I had managed to pack on 18 lbs of solid muscle in the five months after that marathon Labor Day sex session. By St. Patrick's day I was a pretty hunky 187 lbs. During our weekend worship session at the end of March, he asked me what I wanted more than anything else. I was on my stomach and he was gently fucking my ass. This was one of my favorite positions, because it allowed me to feel the full weight of his gargantuan muscles. Sometimes he didn't even have to fuck me to get me to cum. Just laying down on my back with his huge 12 long, beer can cock cradled in my bubble butt was enough to make me cum.

That was such a simple question. "I want to be your muscle boy. I don't want to be your little man. I want to be your muscle boy: your muscle freak boy toy. I live to serve your sexual needs. But you have outgrown me. Even though I'm more muscular than I used to be, you deserve a freaky muscle boy toy. Can I be a Freak? Can I be your freaky muscle boy toy?"

The thrusts of his long beer can cock into my moist hole became stronger and more insistent. His cock felt like a fist up my ass. The head of his cock was as big as my fist and I loved to feel it rammed repeatedly against my gland. "Well, little man, uh-uh, I think I can arrange that for you. Mmm, ahhh. My birthday is next week. Ahhhh, uhhhh. For my present, I will give myself, huhhh, a freaky, yeah, muscle, oh, god, yeah, boy toyyyyy!" He exploded inside me, his jizm blasting against my gland, filling me up with his cum. He spewed so much cum, I thought it was going to come out of my mouth. It was such a hot erotic charge that I came spewing into the sheets what seemed like a pint of cum. I was finished cumming and he was still pumping huge quantities into me. Not only was it going to come out my mouth but he'd filled me to the brim on one orgasm. I could feel his hot sticky fluid spurting out my ass around his thick hard cock. He'd never cum so hard or so much.

I couldn't wait to show him how much he meant to me. I couldn't wait to eat all this cum. I wanted to fill my belly with his man seed. And I was going to be his freaky muscle boy toy. He was going to give himself me with muscles! I was going to be his present! I'm not sure it was his overflowing orgasm or the thought of getting freaky huge with muscle that made me cum again, with more fluid than before.

Two weeks later, I accompanied him to an apartment not far from his. Except for that Labor Day Friday months ago we'd never been in public together. He selected my clothes for me. He made me wear a crop top t-shirt and a pair of lycra biker shorts. He made me wear that on the street as we walked the half mile from his place to this guy's place. I'd never worn these kinds of clothes in public before. It was embarrassing. But I also felt sexy. I felt desirable.

The science guy lived in a much nicer building. The guy who answered the door was pretty young; about my age, 27. I was surprised at that, but if his stuff worked, I didn't care if he was 18 or 88. He had a pretty muscular build too. He was a little shorter than me but looked more buff than I was.

I'd never been with my muscle god in the presence of another person. We'd always spent our sessions alone in his studio. They seemed to have talked about me before. I stood in the middle of the room and they looked me over. They talked about me as if I wasn't there. It was cool. But I wondered if he worshipped my super freak too.

"So, this is the one you want to enhance? He looks healthy enough. He could stand to lose some weight, though." My muscle god nodded in agreement. I was crushed. He thought I was fat? I knew I wasn't as cut and lean as a body builder, but I had thick muscles; nice mass. I felt a momentary sense of panic. I was fat. I wasn't good enough for this science guy. How could I be good enough for my master?

"You told me you wanted this enhanced with the accelerated formula, right?"

My master nodded, "his enhancement is my birthday present to myself. We already agreed what you're giving me, Poindexter."

The science guy rolled his eyes, "yeah, yeah, more freaky muscle for you. I'd have thought you had enough. I mean you're topping 375 lbs; the biggest ripped muscle man ever."

"This is a good start," master said, looking at his reflection in the wall mirror. "I want to be the freakiest muscle man, Poindexter. I will be freakier, man. I want to be huge beyond the point of sense or imagination. But a super muscle freak needs a freaky muscle boy. God knows, you can't take my cock anymore. And your geeky look does nothing for me."

My mind was spinning with all this information. Poindexter was one of his worshippers. My master was going to get even bigger and I was going to get an accelerated formula? The idea of my muscle god getting bigger and my getting bigger fast and my cock got hard, bulging in the shorts.

"Seems like he's just like you, freaky man." The science guy nodded at my erection with a snort. "We may as well get started. Remember that one thing the formula has lost in speeding up the muscle growth process is that he won't be getting taller the way you are. Have him strip."

"Get naked, little man. Poindexter here will take some pictures and then take some measurements. He will do this each Saturday before giving you the injection."

I dropped my shorts, stepped out of them and took off the crop top.

Poindexter took the pictures, then started measuring me. I read his notations upside down as he made them in a little note book. I'm 5'- 9" tall and weigh 187 lbs. with 12% body fat. My chest is 44". Wow, it's bigger than I thought. But it isn't big enough. My waist is 34 inches. My thighs are 24"; my calves are 14-1/2" and my arms tape at 15-1/2". The numbers sound so big compared to where I was six months ago. The numbers sound so inadequate. How could my muscle master continue to want such a puny guy? I was thinking about this when I feel a pin prick in my ass. I turn around to see a huge syringe pushing a clear liquid into my butt.

"Like I told you before, muscle freak, this accelerated formula will require weekly boosters. Each Saturday you'll get to decide if you want to proceed with enhancing it. It should gain muscle pretty quickly. You might be surprised at how fast. Now, take it out of here."

I pull my shorts back on and put the crop top back on. The first injection is coursing through my body right now. My muscle building genes are being pushed into hyper-drive.

On the walk back to master's studio, I hardly notice the stares we are getting. He is a huge muscle freak, practically naked in only a pair of posing trunks and I'm a comparatively puny little man in a pathetic crop top being lead by a chain. Don't get me wrong. I am completely enraptured by my master and know I deserve to be embarrassed and humiliated by my muscle god. That's what I live for. With every fiber of my being I want to be his sex toy. But today the anticipation of my becoming a muscle freak fills my being with longing. God, I want to be his muscle fuck.

Master tosses me onto the futon, lifts my legs and dry fucks me, chanting, "Grow, boy, grow. Get. Big. For. Me. Be. My. Freaky. Muscle. Boy. Toy." It is a litany of our bond. He repeats it over and over as he rams into me deeper and harder. All I can do is agree. I want to grow. I want to get big for him. God, how I yearn to be his freaky muscle boy toy.

"Yes, yes, yes, yeeessssssss" I scream as we cum together, both looking forward to the next few weeks. •