Livin It Up


By claygrant

Roth gym was completely empty by the time we were done. We walked over to the exit doors and I shoved them open as hard as I could. The doors exploded outward and slammed into the side walls. BAM!!! Even I had to slightly cringe at the sound. It was obvious that I didn’t know my own strength yet. I clenched my hands into fists and surveyed my thick forearms. This was too unreal. As I stared at my right forearm, I still didn’t believe that the writhing mass of muscle was mine, all mine to use and flex whenever I wanted. My brain still wanted to recall the twig-like bony forearms that I had known my whole life.

I came back to my senses and looked back at Clay. He had been waiting patiently as I had studied my new muscles. He stood behind me, wearing nothing but gym shorts and sneakers, his brutal arms stretched out at his sides to hold the double doors open. He looked down at me and winked. “After you, stud.” He motioned by nodding his head forward.

As we walked out of the gym, the cool twilight air enveloped my bare body. Like Clay, I was wearing only gym shorts were clearly too small that bunched up, trying to escape my now-bulging quads and hams. My unexposed torso drank in the cool air. The unfamiliar sensation felt incredibly good.

I stopped walking and felt Clay’s hands wrap around my shoulders behind me. There was nobody in sight. I looked all around for even a sign of student life, but the campus seemed totally dead.

Clay read my mind and grumbled, “Yeah dude, nobody’s ever around at this time. Fuckin sucks! Sometimes I’ll finish my workout all pumped up and nobody’s even here to see it.”

In a sly move, I whipped around and looked up at Clay’s handsome face. His piercing blue eyes twinkled as he looked back. I punched him in the gut and said, “I’ll be here to see it, how’s that?”

With that, Clay grinned that special smile he seemed to save just for me, then he batted my faux punch away, pointed at his own fist, and punched me in the gut. Instinctively, I tensed my abs and slightly doubled-over as Clay’s fist made contact. I felt my heels rise slightly as my body withstood the blow, but to my amazement I didn’t feel any pain. I straightened up and looked at my six-pack in wonder.

Clay chuckled. “Heh, guess I’ll have to try harder next time! And next time, don’t double over like that. Stand up straight and take it like a man.”

I nodded. The whole experience still unnerved me – getting hit by Clay’s fist was something to respect, no matter who I was. Yet it seemed my new body was just as strong as it looked...

Clay shoved me hard. “C’mon, runt, I’m starvin. Let’s head over to the dining hall.” I stumbled a few steps but caught my balance. It looked like Clay was going to treat me a little rougher from now on. I had better be ready for anything.

The dining hall was fully packed, even at this late-dinner hour, thanks to the wonders of our university accepting more and more students without building the resources to support them. As we entered the enormous one-room hall, I was unprepared for the noise.

Students were everywhere, seated at large circular and rectangular tables, each with their own tray of ill-famed dorm food. Clay and I scanned our student ID cards while the scanner operator looked at us in shock. It must have been a sight for the scrawny (even by my standards) guy, wearing a loose-fitting university logo T-shirt. He had been doing his daily, boring job of making sure people scanned their ID cards when we walked in. We must have been a sight: one 6’4 250 or so pound muscle stud and shorter 5’6 200 pound (if I had to guess) stud standing at the entrance to the dining hall, the sweat glistening off of their hard, overdeveloped torsos.

The scanner operator blinked hard and smirked with obvious attitude. “You guys know that shirts and shoes are REQUIRED here?” It was clear he was having a power trip.

Clay looked down and fixed a steely gaze at the smaller student as if noticing him for the first time. The smaller guy glared at Clay, refusing to show that he was intimidated. Clay rumbled, “Look dude, we just got back from the GYM and we’re STARVING. There’s no time to go back to the dorm to get our shirts, so how about you let us go?” Clay put a meaty hand on the smaller guy’s shoulder. In lower tones, Clay suggested, “If not, then how about you let me borrow your shirt for a while?”

The smaller guy made eye contact with me. I stared at him dispassionately and I watched his eyes wander down and notice my chest. At that moment, I flexed both of my pecs as hard as I could and his eyes widened slightly. FUCK, that felt good. I almost grinned to myself at my first muscle conquest, but I kept my cool.

Clay started to walk past the operator but the smaller guy held out his arm. I quickly surveyed his arm and guessed it to be no more than an 11-inch threat. Clay’s massive bulk charged forward and the 11-inch arm was simply brushed aside.

“Hey, dumbass!” the operator yelled. “You can’t just walk through like that!”

Clay stopped, turned around, and crossed his beefy arms over his chest. He glared down at the smaller guy and I began to feel sorry for the little man. It was clear that Clay had the situation under control.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds until Clay quickly stepped up to the smaller guy and grabbed both of his wrists, one in each hand. In a fluid, almost practiced move, Clay forced the guy’s arms up above his head and combined both wrists in his left hand – Clay’s large hand easily encircled both of the small guy’s wrists. Then Clay simply lifted the poor guy up with his left hand until they were eye-level. The smaller guy seemed horrified and began to kick violently. Clay ignored the kicks and spat angrily, “Now you’ve pissed me off, little man. I’ll follow your rules, so I’m taking that shirt now.”

Clay reached out and grabbed the bottom of the guy’s shirt with his right hand and pulled up on the shirt as he let go with his left hand. The small guy fell to the floor arms up, and his t-shirt slipped off perfectly, dangling in Clay’s right hand. I was loving every moment of this – Clay was totally dominant, in full control. Obviously it paid to be as tall and strong as Clay was.

The operator had landed on his ass and was rubbing his backside. Wordlessly, he scrambled away from us and ran out of the dining hall. Looking around, I noticed that several other students were watching us. No doubt Clay had caused quite a scene.

The audience didn’t phase Clay, who was probably used to people looking at him so blatantly. He turned to me and grinned as he stuffed the t-shirt halfway into his back pocket. “Now that we have a shirt, let’s get some food!”

I breathed out hard and grit my teeth. I felt a lot of eyes watching me as I followed Clay into the food area. This was it. Without a shirt on and with all this new muscle on me, I was getting a lot of attention. I wasn’t really sure how to act, so I became too aware of every step I took, every small movement. I watched Clay’s back, always a great with his sweeping lats and incredible thickness, as he grabbed a tray and started to pile food on his plates.

We separated to get our own food, but within a few minutes I heard Clay’s deep voice boom across the room, “Hey Brad, they have mashed potatoes today! Fuck yeah!!” Everyone in the room turned to look at me. I felt my face flush and I looked at the ground pretending that nothing happened. I could hear several sniggering comments like, “Stupid jocks...” or “What a meathead.”

Clay didn’t seem to care about any of the remarks. He was too busy getting mashed potatoes. I shook my head – I always hated being the center of attention, especially in a crowd of strangers. With my new muscles, I thought I was ready to play the confident jock role that Clay naturally was, but all I could feel at that moment were anxiety and the building urge to get the hell out of there. I tried to remind myself that I should stop being so concerned with what other people think. If I was going to be a jock like Clay, I couldn’t show any shyness like this. I flexed my pecs and arms and watched them bunch up at my command to remind myself of the new me.

“Hey.” An unfamiliar voice disrupted my inner turmoil and flexing. I looked up and saw a large guy who was wearing a shirt that said, “Gracie Jiujitsu”. I didn’t know what that meant, but I immediately scanned his body – it was strange, but ever since I met Clay I developed a 2-second method of determining if a guy had muscle. Since this guy was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, I looked over his neck, his upper arms, forearms, waist, and calves. This guy was solid, no doubt. Not ripped, but definitely a strong ox if it came down to it. Looking up at his face, I realized that he was about the same height as Clay.

“Hey, sup?” I said briefly and started to move past him. I was never one to initiate small talk.

The new guy kept talking though, “Maybe you should go get some mashed potatoes before he calls you out again?” He laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. “Damn buddy, you’re stacked. Wish I had kept up with my training, but paying the bills doesn’t seem to grow muscle, eh? Now all I got is this – “ he pointed to his stomach.

I laughed and suddenly felt more relaxed. I quickly looked around and realized that nobody was staring at me anymore. Everyone was getting food. “Thanks, bro. I was just at the gym with Clay – that’s Clay over there.”

“Yeah? I know of him. The new fullback for our squad right? Well fuck, with him on the team I’ll probably go to some games. He looks like a tank.” The new guy made a silent whistle of admiration. “I’m Chris by the way, you must be Brad?”

I was a little shocked. “That’s me, but how’d you know - ?”

Chris smiled and explained, “It’s not rocket science, you know how they posted our names on the doors? Well, I saw that you’re Clay’s roommate. I live down the hall so I pass by your door a lot – “ at that point I heard a girl’s voice call from the main room, “Chris? Hurry up!” Chris rolled his eyes. “Ah shit, gotta run. My girlfriend’s in town and she doesn’t know anyone here so I gotta babysit, you know...”

I grabbed the rest of my food and walked out to the main room. I realized that I didn’t know where Clay was, so I scanned the tables. I noticed that each table seemed to attract similar people, whether it be of the same ethnic background or interests – skateboards were piled near one table, musical instruments near another. I finally found Clay because he was waving at me like an idiot, standing on his chair. “Yo Brad, over here!!” he bellowed.

I started to walk carefully over to Clay’s table. Along the way, I had to avoid running into students walking this way and that – one large kid with glasses who wore a Transformers shirt almost ran into me. Shit, being short didn’t help things. Even with my new width, I couldn’t see any better in a crowd of people. I finally got to the table and sat down at the only empty seat.

When I looked around the table I was overwhelmed by pure masculinity. Every guy at the table exuded the jock look in some way, with Clay as the obvious football player – his sheer size and bulk left no question as to which sport he played. I recognized Nate, the blond-haired basketball player from the gym. He was in mid-conversation but nodded and threw me a quick, “Lookin huge bro,” before returning to his conversation. The other guys seemed to represent almost every other sport our school competed in. One guy caught my eye as he was definitely shorter than I was. He must be on gymnastics – he was totally ripped and vascular.

Clay swallowed a mouthful of mashed potatoes and cleared his throat. “Hey guys, here’s my new roommate Brad. He just moved in, so be nice to him,” Clay explained. The other guys murmured their approval and understanding – if I just moved in, that meant I wasn’t an athlete. All the athletes arrived earlier for practices and training.

The guys broke off into smaller conversations about anything and everything that I would expect at a table full of jocks. Who’s the hottest girl in the dorm, the best team our school has, who’s been lifting the most at Roth lately, how classes suck, and so on. I managed to get by through introductions – by the end I had forgotten all of their names but at least they were all making an effort to be friendly.

After I had eaten all of my food, I sat back in my chair and slouched a little. I noticed that my six pack bunched onto itself and formed deep cuts. I began to feel my abs with my hands and played with their hardness and ridges. It still amazed me that the human body was capable of such development – I looked around the dining hall and saw all the other students with bodies that obviously lacked any serious muscle development. Then I looked back at my own torso and flexed my pecs playfully. First the right, then the left, then both very slowly... like Clay had taught me. Nate’s voice cut across the table, “Shit Brad, like I said you’re gettin BIG. Guys take a look at that chest! You sure you don’t play a sport?” With that, all the guys at the table looked at my pecs.

I looked around at the all of their studly faces and had to grin. I obliged them with another flex of my pecs and they all hooted and hollered, “Fuck yeah Brad! Gettin big! Flex those monsters!” All of the attention from these alpha males was intoxicating. I began to flex my arms and abs, sat up a little and flared my lats. Yeah, it felt good to have this muscle. Muscle so thick I could feel it when I flexed.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed some other students checking me out as the guys at my table made so much uproar over my flexing. It must have been a sight for the old Brad – a bunch of muscled jocks egging on a fellow stud to flex and show off his body. It was really strange and somewhat satisfying to be on the other end, to see the shocked and lustful faces that were looking at my muscled body. That is how I must have looked when I first met Clay, I thought.

At that moment I noticed that Chris, the guy who introduced himself earlier, was watching me with keen interest. He was sitting alone at a table with two trays – but a few seconds later his girlfriend came back and he turned his attention to her. As he spoke to her, he kept glancing over at my table. I figured I would give him a small show, so I stretched my arms above my head and “relaxed” them into a hard double bi pose. Chris apparently noticed, since his girlfriend followed his inattentive gaze back to me.

“Got some killer arms,” Clay’s voice called to me. I looked across the table at his smug face. He gave me a quick one armed most muscular and a thumbs up. “Let’s get back to the dorm... I got some studyin to do,” he said as he looked me over shamelessly. The other guys laughed, thinking he was being sarcastic, but I knew from his tone and look that he meant something with me. I shuddered and felt like old Brad, the small Brad who was totally submissive to Clay’s control.

With dinner over, Clay and I headed back to our room, full and content. Walking side by side, Clay and I formed a wall of muscle, taking up the entire width of the hallway. As we approached our room, a thin kid – damn he looked like a freshman even more than old Brad – came out of his room and headed toward us. As soon as he realized we were coming though, his eyes grew wide and he stopped in his tracks. He looked uncomfortably at Clay and me, then looked for a way out. I guess he didn’t want to get near us, because he darted into the nearby bathroom door before we got to him.

Clay chuckled. “Did you see that? That kid was scared shitless. Nothing like seeing em run just from seeing you. Well in this case, he saw TWO muscle monsters eh?” The big man playfully shoved me into the wall.

I hadn’t been prepared for it so my shoulders rammed into the wall with a dull thud. Again, I felt no pain. Old Brad would have been bruised by this point.

“Hey, I got an idea.” Clay’s deep voice sounded mischievous. “Go find that kid. I bet meeting a muscle stud like you would make his day.”

I snorted. “What? Clay, that’s stupid. I don’t know what to do... and besides, he’s probably not into muscle...”

Clay grinned, his square jaw framing his teeth perfectly. “You just don’t get it, do you? Brad, the awesome body you have comes with some responsibility. I won’t have you keeping all that muscle to yourself. You gotta ‘give back to the community’ sometimes,” he chuckled at his own joke. “Hell, I didn’t get it at first either, but just walk in there and see what happens. Just give him a little flex and encouragement if he shows any interest.”

I frowned at Clay, who smiled smugly and crossed his arms over his chest. It looked like there was no room for argument. I punched Clay in his stomach and sighed, “All right, I’m going in.”

“Atta boy! I’ll be waitin to hear all about it, you big stud.” Clay leaned down and kissed me quickly on the cheek. “Wait here for a sec.”

Before I could react, Clay was already sauntering down the hallway, his bare-chested torso getting looks from everyone who passed by.

Clay came back from the hall and placed a bottle of the gel in my hand. “Thought you might want this,” he winked.

It’s time to be the jock, I thought. I pushed open the door to the bathroom and went inside. The large bathroom was empty except for the kid who had run from us. He was standing at a sink and saw me through the mirror. Once he saw I had entered, he froze up and looked down at the sink.

Is this how old Brad would have reacted? Run from two muscle studs? Probably. I walked slowly towards the sinks, like a predator surveying its prey. “Hey dude,” I called out, my voice surprisingly deep. “How’s it goin?”

He didn’t respond, but instead looked up and saw my naked, pumped torso approaching him. He gulped and tried to speak. “H-hey.”

What did Clay say to do? Oh yeah, give him a little flex. So I started to flex my pecs and sure enough the kid’s attention turned completely towards my chest. I bounced them a few times, then brought my arms in and crossed them to get my pecs to bulge out. Sure enough, my pecs obeyed and striations exposed themselves as my chest exploded.

The kid was totally silent but obviously mesmerized. Damn this was too easy, I thought. I asked in a gruff tone, “You want to feel em?”

No answer. He looked half horrified and half in awe. I decided to take things into my own hands – hell, it was Clay’s style. I walked up to the transfixed kid and grabbed hold of his wrists in each hand like Clay had done to the operator in the dining hall. The kid was trembling now, his mouth slightly open. We were about the same height, but he was extremely thin, definitely much thinner than old Brad. No muscle on this kid at all.

“Hey buddy, it’s all right,” I tried to calm him. Then I got into the moment and said, “These muscles aren’t gonna hurt you.” At that the kid broke his blank stare and made eye contact. I continued talking in softer tones. “Yeah, that’s right. You just have to tell me one thing, do you like muscle?”

The kid shifted a little but I held on to his wrists firmly. His wrists were so thin I felt that if I squeezed too hard they would break. He breathed out heavily. “Ye-yes, I do.”

Clay was right, this kid was totally into me. The old Brad part of me didn’t believe it, but just looking at this kid’s bony body made me feel more powerful. I decided to give this kid something the old Brad would have only dreamt of. I spoke in my lowest voice, “Good. My name’s Brad. Now take off your clothes.”

I let go of his wrists and watched him dutifully take off his clothes. Then without warning I squatted, shoved my shoulder into his waist, and lifted him up on my shoulder. Damn, this kid was light. Like a warrior carrying his prize, I walked into a large stall and shut the door. I sat him down on the toilet and proceeded to flex the limited poses I knew. Double biceps, most muscular, side chest, arms-above-head abs, lat spread, then I showed him my thick quads and diamond-shaped calves.

All throughout the poses, the kid was clearly aroused, hard as a rock. To his credit, he didn’t make a move. He just sat there and watched. I couldn’t believe I had this effect on him. I felt totally dominant, and he would do whatever I wanted willingly. To test this, I barked out an order. “Come feel these pecs, now!”

I stood impassively with my arms at my sides in a relaxed pose. He carefully got up and reached out one hand slowly to my chest. I grabbed his hand and shoved it into my left pec, then flexed my pec hard. He gasped. “Fuckin solid muscle there, right?” I asked him.

He nodded. I started to get aroused. This kid was going too slow. I grimaced and pulled off my tight gym shorts and brought out the gel. “Take this and rub it all over me.”

He needed no encouragement as he took the oily substance and massaged it all over my body. He started first with my pecs, which I flexed hard for him. He started to get into it, feeling not only the front of my pecs but around and below to get a full feel of their thickness. As he moved to other areas, I obliged him with further flexes, loving how frantically he was moving his hands everywhere and pressing into my skin. He traced the veins that adorned my biceps and followed them to my forearms where they exploded into a web of veins that popped out of my skin.

I began to breathe heavily – all this flexing wasn’t easy, I realized. As soon as he had covered my entire body with the gel, he moved his hands hesitantly towards my erect member. I looked at him eagerly and shuddered as he bathed my member in the gel. The thought of the gel making me grow even bigger took over me. I grunted animalistically and grabbed his waist, then lifted him into the air. I looked directly into his eyes as I asked, “You want this muscle?”

He was out of breath, but managed to speak. “Yes, Brad...” I lowered him so his back arched and his pelvis was in the air. Leaning forward, I draped my left arm underneath him for support and began stroking him. He shuddered – but I went slowly. I didn’t want him to finish so soon. I leaned over even more until his erect member came in contact with my pecs. With my right hand I forced his member between my pecs and I began flexing my pecs together. As my pecs squeezed him, I slowly moved him up and down, then picked up the pace. Within a few seconds I heard him moan and he came quickly, his cum cascading on his stomach.

Quickly I lowered him to the ground and lay flat on top of him, rubbing my whole body on his to spread his seed with the gel that covered my muscles. He groaned as my weight crushed him. Then I dug my hands under him and hugged him tightly to my body. He was so fuckin thin – I didn’t know how much pressure to apply, so I started slowly. I looked at his face and he looked completely enraptured. Damn this was hot... using him anyway I wanted. Still hugging him to my body, I stood up and moved my arms under his ass so he was forced to a sitting position, resting against my chest. His legs instinctively wrapped around my lower back. He murmured something and snuggled his head into my pecs, which I flexed against his cheek.

I whispered to him, “Do you want me to grow bigger?” and he nodded against my chest. I got into stance with my feet shoulder width apart and punched my member into him as he held on to my neck. As I pounded him over and over, holding on to him like a pillow, my biceps started to strain from the weight. Furious, I pounded faster until I felt it coming... slowly.. yes, almost... NOW!!

I quickly lifted him off and began catching my fluid with my hands as I released. The orgasm felt incredible, but I was also busy applying my seed to all parts of my chest, arms, and legs. Seeing what I was doing, the small guy followed suit and covered my back. I lifted him up high and grinned. “Time to GROW baby.” I slumped him over my shoulder and walked towards the showers.

I turned on the scalding hot water as Clay had done when he first grew for me. Soon the shower room was filled with steam and the kid began to get concerned. “Isn’t it too hot?” he asked timidly.

“Not for me,” I smiled at him. I walked directly into the stream of hot water and closed my eyes. I let the hot water flow around me and engulf me into its heat. I felt no pain, just a building aggression – I wanted to hit something or someone, bad. I began to grunt and shift my weight. Then it started happening. I felt my entire sense of self expand, as it had done so before. My whole body became tight, all muscles flexing at once. Then I opened my eyes and watched my muscles expand, rearrange, and rip themselves to shreds.

I watched my arms in satisfaction, my biceps swelling into new uncharted size, triceps etching into a thick horseshoe of beef that defied physics, new veins bursting all over my forearms. I looked over and saw the kid watching in fascination. “Come here,” I commanded.

He walked up to me, the water splashing off of my expansive back, shielding him from the heat. I forced him to turn around and I hugged him from behind, feeling his thin torso in wonder. He was so thin, I wanted to see if I could crush him right there. It was difficult not to squeeze him. I embraced him in my growing arms and squeezed him tightly to my chest. I felt my chest push out into his back as my pecs grew denser, thicker, and more powerful. I felt like a beast, and to my amazement my member began to get hard again. The kid must have felt it for he sidled up next to me and forced himself onto me. I groaned as I entered him and began to squeeze him hard. My hands found his own member, which began to harden as well despite his obvious fatigue. As I pumped him and tugged his member simultaneously, I felt my thighs push against each other. I had to stand a little wider as my legs grew into their new size. Fuck, this was hot.

Soon I felt the tightness in my muscles fade and I focused on my prey. I pounded him with renewed energy – my newly grown muscles eager to show me what they could do. He cried out several times and finally came dry, and soon after I felt my orgasm building, slow at first, then all of a sudden I yelled out and held onto him tightly as I filled him with my seed. I yelled, “FUCK YEAAAHH... how’d you like that?” And all he could do was fall to the floor, exhausted. •

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