After, Sean and Jason had their first “Flying Class” with the Tyserrens on the beach that was located down a hill well below the school. Again, Jason had caught on rather quickly, and this time, Sean had been the first to follow. Most of the other students had had trouble even getting their feet off the sand, some having succeeded, only in the next second to be flipped upside-down, their legs and arms flailing to come back down. Controlling the psychic energy around them was key, and Sean had had plenty of practice in the previous class.

Lunch and dinner had been served, and afterwards, the students had returned to their dorms in timely and orderly fashions.

Sean and Jason sat on their beds, both in just their boxers, discussing the eventful day that they had when somebody knocked on their door. Jason crossed the room and opened it. It was Kyle and two more Behlmore Boys, all dressed in normal everyday clothes, though filling them out to almost busting.

The one to Kyle’s left had long blond hair, braided into dreadlocks, the long sleeves of his shirt unable to hide the thick, corded muscle beneath, as the fabric seemed a part of his skin—his chest making the thread count extremely important as his mighty pecs rose and fell with each breath.

The other, on Kyle’s right, was a smaller boy, but muscular just the same. He had done his hair up into a spiky fashion. His blue American Eagle t-shirt moved with the massive meat of his pecs, and the white shell choker around his broad neck seemed ready to snap right off. His biceps looked like separate parts of his arms, bulging from the skin, single veins running across the muscle, pulsing as he stood there, his skin smooth and polished.

Kyle wore a patterned button-up over a white wife-beater, his chest a vascular, striated display over the collar. The rest of him had grown substantially since the last time he was in Sean’s bed.

All of them had the same brown cargo shorts, showing off their ripped, shapely calves, the blond’s covered with a sheen, gold fuzz, and thick veins wrapping around the muscle in a pattern more complicated than Sean’s forearms.

“There’s a party tonight, gentlemen,” Kyle said.

“Party?” Jason said. “I didn’t hear of a party.”

“Not here,” said Kyle. “In the other dimension. It’s a tradition with my old school.” He patted Jason on his muscled chest, and said, “So, get dressed, big boy—you too Sean. We’re leaving in three minutes.”

“We’re not supposed to leave the grounds,” Sean said. “God only knows what’ll happen if we leave the dimension.”

“Besides,” said Jason, “you can’t pass between the two without permission. Unless… You’re not going to—”

“Come on guys,” said Kyle, exasperated. “Don’t be pussies.”

Jason turned to Sean, a look of apprehension on his face.

Kyle scoffed. “Look, we leave in three minutes with or without you. It’s up to you.”

***

Sean decided to go, but Jason refused. He warned Sean that Kyle could get him into trouble, but Sean told him not to worry.

The party was filled with about 100 young privileged teens of the local high school. It was like the parties Sean would always see on t.v.—the ones with the expensive cars making a semi-circle in a wood clearing around a fire, music blaring, and enough booze to hold a convention. Sean had always been a privileged kid, but never had he fit in with this crowd. But tonight was a completely different story.

He had finished off the equivalent of half a keg, but didn’t feel any different—apart from the fact that he was actually drinking beer. Girls flocked to him, grabbing his thick quads, massaging their hands closer and closer to his crotch. Sean had to back away a couple times, though this actually made the girls more excited. One girl behind him was forward enough (or drunk enough) to stick her fingers down Sean’s pants.

“Jesus Christ!” the girl said. “You’re hung like a fucking race horse, aren’t you?”

Sean quickly pulled her hand away, and she settled to rubbing his hard six-pack under his shirt instead, though the look in her eyes told Sean she was a bit affronted.

Kyle’s friends were busy in the woods, having their way with two or three partners at a time. Kyle himself stood near a yellow Tacoma, talking with a beautiful brunette, her body like a runway fashion model.

Sean went back to his little event at the picnic table, the girls now peeling his shirt off and over his head. They started squealing when they saw what was under it, Sean feeling a bit awkward, but not so much to keep him from making his pecs jump. The girls squealed again, all of them placing their hands on his torso, feeling his hard, lean muscle, the girl behind him now rubbing both her hands on his massive traps and shoulders. He was feeling good…REALLY good.

Then he heard it. A girl was screaming. Sean saw Kyle there, his button up removed, his arms flexed and vascular in his wife-beater, pinning a burly kid in a letterman jacket against the door of the yellow truck.

“Stop it!” the brunette screamed. “Put him down!”

The girls at the table were unbuckling Sean’s belt, oblivious to the commotion. Sean pushed the girls’ hands away, buckled his belt, and went to try and calm Kyle down. But he was too late.

A few of the jock’s friends came from behind Kyle, trying to pull him off, but his massive body wouldn’t budge. He shoved the jock into the truck, the window shattering as the door caved in, then turned to face the others, their faces now full of fright.

“Kyle, stop!” Sean said, coming up next to him. “What are you doing?”

“Stay out of this, Sean,” Kyle said. “These guys deserve it.”

“What the fuck happened to you?” one of the jocks asked, his eyes gawking at the bulging veins in Kyle’s pumped, muscular arms.

“You know them?” Sean asked.

Nobody said a word. The jocks slowly backed away from Kyle.

“Let’s go,” one of them said.

“YOU’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!” Kyle yelled. His next movement was a blur as he moved to cut the boys off, who were now in a state of panic. Sean didn’t even know it was possible to move so fast.

Kyle’s muscles were pulsing now and his shirt screamed as his lats pushed through and shredded the fabric.

“Kyle don’t!” Sean said, but the next moment he felt a fist pummel into his stomach. He fell to his knees. It couldn’t have been one of the jocks, because it hurt—REALLY hurt. Sean looked up to find Kyle’s two boys standing there, naked, their 12-inch, dripping cocks hanging out.

“Who the fuck are you freaks?” another of the jocks said.

Sean stood to stop Kyle, but the other two held him back.

“Come on, dude,” the dreadlock blond said. “Don’t you know how to have fun?”

The two of them started laughing. Sean could probably fight one of them off, but the two of them were too much. He tried to move, his body now growing, his veins bulging, feeding his muscles, but Kyle’s boys just grew with him—the stronger he got, the stronger the two of them got, their dicks sputtering, their ball-sacks pumping, from the surges of power. Car windows broke, tires popped and deflated, engine cables burst…

Sean looked around at the other high school students. They just stood there gawking. “GET OUT OF HERE!” he yelled, his cock now pushing against his jeans.

But no one listened, and their cars were ruined. Kyle’s boys just laughed, the smaller one rubbing his fat, slimy cock and blasting his load all over a group of nearby girls, the force knocking them to their feet as the earth shook around the clearing.

Kyle picked up one of the jocks by his chin, tossing him effortlessly 15 feet away and into a tree. The others ran for it as they saw their friend slink to the ground. Kyle moved like the wind, picking up the surrounding SUVs and cars, throwing them aside or sending them tumbling and rolling over and over, people screaming as they got out of the way. The remaining jocks tried to pile into one of the trucks that wasn’t damaged, actually succeeding in starting the engine. They slammed on the gas, but Kyle was there at the front, holding them back, the tires spinning, the air filling with the scent of burning rubber.

“Back up, dude!” one of the jocks inside yelled, but Kyle lifted the truck from the ground, his quads looking like powerful pillars of strength, the ripped muscle covered in pulsing veins growing thicker by the second. He lifted it all the way over his head, his lean, cut delts visibly working to hold the load, growing and adapting.

Kyle was laughing like a madman, his chiseled abs tightening as he did so. “Not so fucking tough now are you, bitches?”

Kyle’s boys laughed along with him, the smaller one with the spiky hair reaching for a nearby girl.

“Where you going, bitch?” he said, holding Sean with one arm and pulling her towards his pulsing body. He pressed his lips against hers, the girl struggling to break free.

“Hey!” The girl’s boyfriend went to punch the spiky haired one, but found his hand in the broad, steel palm of his target, the girl tossed aside into the grass.

“Not too smart, Fuck Face,” the spiky haired one said, crushing the boy’s hands, the bones crackling and crunching under the might of his fingers, laughing and enjoying every bit of pain he caused the young man.

Sean tried to break free, but it was pointless, the boy’s screaming almost deafening in his enhanced, sensitive ears. The spiky haired one grabbed the boy by his shirt and tossed him over-handed a good ten feet into one of the picnic tables, breaking it into pieces.

Kyle spun the truck to be horizontal with his massive arms, grasping both the front and rear axels and pulling them together. The truck buckled, the jocks screaming from the interior, Kyle grunting, his muscles flexing, his biceps now 20 inches, the veins pulsing, growing, moving to his shoulders and spreading to his striated, expanding pecs in conduit-like ‘V’s and ‘F’s.

“WHO’S THE FUCKING PUSSY NOW!” Kyle bellowed, the truck bending and falling to pieces. His cock shredded his shorts and came out 14 inches, sputtering, ready to blow, its girth unbelievably massive. Kyle was radiating so much power that he didn’t even have to move his arms to crush the truck any further, the force crumpling the steel of the vehicle all on its own.

“STOP!” Sean yelled, people finally running away as the ground began to shake once more.

The blond’s cock exploded at the sight of Kyle, adding to the quake, spraying his hot cum clear into the air and across the forest like a white rainstorm. The blond’s muscles pulsed and grew thicker, his grip on Sean tightening like a steel clamp. Sean watched the blond’s pecs balloon and shudder, blood streaming through rapidly surfacing veins to give power to the new muscle fiber.

“You like that, pussy?” the blond asked Sean. “We can go at it later if you want. I could use a good—

Everything and everyone halted, unable to move their mouths or legs. The high schoolers fainted around them, the four Hanazin Teens clearly befuddled as to what was happening.

The huge muscled form of an Academy Professor stepped into the clearing. A pulsing ‘Y’ shaped vein protruded from his temple traveling across a portion of his forehead, and through his black hair. His shoulders were like scallop shaped bowling balls, more striations appearing as he swung his arms in his gait, his pecs jumping in response to the movement of his ripped limbs. His neck was thicker and wider than Sean’s muscled quads, and his huge traps lifted his Gi a whole two and a half inches from his shoulders. If any of the professors spoke true Power, this one SCREAMED it.

He lifted his palm and the clearing returned to normal, the cars turning right-side up, repairing their smashed frames, flat tires, and broken windows. Kyle was lifted by the power from under the truck and put with the other three Hanazin Teens.

“I do believe we are in BIG trouble, boys,” the professor said. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

Sean felt the seal from his lips lifted.

“Professor Jacobson,” Kyle said.

Sean’s eyes widened. He had hoped his meeting with his head of house would have come together in completely different circumstances. •