Every morning I looked at myself in the mirror and, yes, I was getting bigger. Much bigger. Still honed, still symmetrical, still proportionate. But everything was bigger, fuller, harder! Already I thought I could beat them all at last, even though he’d never let me weigh myself to prove any of it. “It has to be in the eye,” he said, “not on the scales.”

Every evening, after the last workout, before dinner, he and Brett would critique me - as if I wasn’t there. Flex this - do that - pose this - turn here! It peeved me at first, then I started to enjoy what they were discovering about my body.

Brett.

Yes, Brett was there every evening for dinner. I didn’t get it at first. Of course I was glad to see him - and he spent every night in my bed - I finally realized that the Master was throwing us together. It wasn’t just that it was good for me to have sex - I guess anyone of his guys could have done that, even Tattoos - he seemed to want us to be together. But why - if this was going to prejudice my chances of choosing to take the Final Step? Some of the other guys came too and, as one, they were encouraging and admiring. That made me feel really good. No axes to grind there. Not like with Brett. Pilot even said he hoped I wasn’t going to turn back like the rest of them. Tattoos - the only night he came - characteristically said I’d be a fool if I did.

The Master told me categorically and firmly that I was to go home on Sunday. Whatever my decision, it was not to be made until I had had a time away from La Jolla - and, I guess, away from Brett. There would also be things I would have to clear up, people I would have to see (Coach) if I were to return to La Jolla for good. Because that is what it would mean.

We had the last of these evening sessions on Friday. I was going back home on Sunday. He wanted me to spend Saturday morning with Brett, alone, then he would be ready for me in the afternoon. Whatever that meant.

Brett was like a cat on hot bricks that day. It was very difficult to relax as neither of us knew what the end of all this would be. We made some desperate kind of love - but it surely was kind of desperate. He kept on saying Whatever happens it will be for the best, as if he was trying to persuade himself rather than me. Finally I had to shut him up with a kiss and, finally, we made proper love.

Hopefully not for the last time.

When he went, he wouldn’t let me walk him to the door. A quick wet kiss and he was gone. I watched him go down to the gate from my window. His broad back looked sad and lost, and that made me feel that way too.

I sat miserably on my bed, weighing all this up. What had stopped him from taking the final step? Or the others for that matter? And would I find out this afternoon, and would I decide to take it or not? And if not, why not? It was everything I had always wanted, being given to me on a plate, for free. For free? Was anything ever for free? Really free?

What would Coach say? Make up your own mind and stand by it! is what he’d say. So maybe I’d grit my teeth and do just that. At least I could now go out and win the Olympia. But didn’t I want to be as big as Him? Be better than the Olympians? You bet I did. So?

Fuck it, I said! I didn’t come here for Brett - I came here to get as big as I could - why should I let him stand in the way. But that’s what’s so strange - he’s NOT standing in the way. He wants me to have what I want. He said so.

But that‘s just Brett.

The bell rang. I was to drink this drink and go on down. It made me feel kind of strange, but I’d drunk it, so? I pulled a robe over those shoulders and pecs, as instructed, and went downstairs. To my fate.

He was waiting for me in the gym But things were different. It was pitch dark, for a start. Everything cleared to the side and nearly invisible as a result.

There was one pool of light in the middle of the room - a cocoon of light, seemingly coming from a whole battery of spots in the apex of the high ceiling.

Take your robe off, said his voice from the shadows. I did. I prepared my body for what was about to happen the same way as I did before I stepped on the stage at a contest. My chest was high, my lats spread, my arms taut, my quads flexed. Even in the dark I persuaded myself I was huge.

Then he appeared. He walked into the pool of light and I nearly fainted.

In his nakedness, he appeared to be even bigger than before. Everything was flexed, everything was perfect, the ideally focused lights glinted off the smooth, oiled, tanned muscles. Slowly he raised his arms and went first into a classic double bicep - biceps which split at the moment of ultra-contraction, then into a lat spread where it seemed he would fly as he spread his wings. He contracted those deeply etched, full abs, put his hands behind his head, stretched out a huge striated quad, then slowly, slowly brought his arms forward into a most muscular pose.

Then, via a side chest which swelled his pecs to the max in profile and enlarged his low flexed bicep even more, he turned his back, raised his arms over his head, then lowered his elbows with such force as to seem to smash and mash all his back muscles together. Then, with his hams swept back, he first spread his wings again, impossibly wide, then brought his wrists up into a double bicep pose.

He turned towards me, flung his arms up and looked up into the light: a god or an angel about to take off, then slowly lowered his gaze until those Kryptonite green eyes looked straight into mine - who else had eyes like that? No, not Superman, I thought wildly, Brett! - and, as he stood there looking at me, his proud fuck-pole (which I had never yet enjoyed, by the way) slowly raised itself up, growing thicker and thicker until the proud tree trunk, thickly veined and clearly throbbing, actually reached his pecs. Then he slowly lowered his arms and stretched them out to me. All without a word.

How could I refuse? As I walked slowly towards him I realized I had been looking UP at him all this while so, yes, he is even taller than he was when I Last saw him yesterday evening.

As I was almost in his arms, for that is surely where I was going - into the arms of a god - he said:

“This is it, pal. This is where I can show you what I can do for you.”

He folded me in his arms, my face pressed against those swelling upper pecs. He looked up, and a quartet of mirrors descended into the light. Now we were trapped in a nimbus of mirror and light, reflected on all sides into eternity.

“First I want you to step back and look at me. Impress the size and shape of every muscle on your brain - imagine they are yours and they will be.”

I did as he said. He slowly flexed every huge muscle like a cat, slowly turned around so I could see him from all angles. Did it again. And again. Till I shut my eyes and said I was ready.

“No need to shut your eyes. Lean against me now.”

He stretched his arms under mine and lifted both pairs parallel to the ground. I felt myself slowly lifted up until I was face to face with him. Then he wrapped his arms round me and I did the same to him. Our erect members seemed to graft onto each other.

“Now shut your eyes - remember me, remember my muscle in as much detail as you can. Just let me move and don‘t look. You’ll know when to open up again.”

I shut my eyes and concentrated hard, easy to visualize those great muscles when I could feel them throbbing against me. I heaved a sigh of relief. Then I started to feel it. I was being stretched, filled. My pecs were definitely growing, my quads too. My back was stretching out - my hands were slipping up his naked arms until I could feel his hands gripping mine. My feet suddenly touched the floor and I was filled with a huge surge of power.

“That’s it! You can feel it, can’t you? You can feel the power of my muscle sweeping through you!” Even as he spoke, I felt it flood every fiber of my being and the power gism started to surge up from my heavy, heavy balls, into my dick which immediately began to spurt.

“Don’t worry - let it all happen! It‘s going to go on until we‘re though, so get used to it!”

It went on spurting continuously though, strangely, nothing was coming out. Then I realized that the root of my being was answering to his: the power was building within me, not letting it out. Shit! This feeling of continual orgasm was mind-blowing - I never wanted it to end.

I opened my eyes, straight into his. He closed my panting mouth with his and yet I could still hear him talking.

“In a moment you will see yourself almost as big as I am. For this short moment your whole being is fused, welded to mine as you share my power. Never forget what this feels like. Never forget this could all be yours! Now - see!”

He stepped out of the light so I could see myself in every mirror - huge, massive, glowing with his aura. I was almost exactly as I dreamed of being. I flexed every muscle, hit every pose, drew myself up to my new, amazing height. I felt every muscle, squeezed them, fought my powerful squeezing hands with my hard, ultra-contracted muscle. The vascularity was leaping all over my body, and the orgasm went on and on. It was getting stronger and stronger - I wanted to be with him now - I wanted to BE him!

But I wanted something else too!

“I know you do,” said the voice, rather sorrowfully from the shadows, “so call for him and he’ll be there. Now you can cum!”

And at last I was about to cum. I felt all the power focusing in my groin: I could feel it collect there, I could almost hear it gathering like a storm inside me. The Master stepped back into the light: I faced that magnificent, perfect muscle god, but - "Call him! And CUM!”

I turned away to face the darkness. I lifted my eyes up to the light and came! As the storm flood smashed out of me I yelled at the top of my voice BRE-E-E-E-E-ETT!

And he was there. Naked and glowing, perfect, Brett was there. He leaped out of the darkness into my arms, to be covered in my hugely jetting muscle-gism. As he flung his arms around me, the Master encircled us both from behind me and, once again, I passed out. •