“What are you doing here, Brionna?” Ryan blurted, stepping through the door. Brionna smirked and shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m just checking up on my big sister,” she answered nonchalantly, glancing provocatively down at Ryan’s crotch. Don’t you even think about it, he thought. “You working out?” she asked him. “You still seem pretty big.” Brionna moved her tongue around the inside of her cheek.

“How dare you say something like that,” Ryan hissed, glaring at her angrily. “Get out.” She peered up at him with evil eyes.

“Oh, so now you’re throwing me out of my own sister’s apartment,” she needled, “just like you threw me out of your life.”

“Exactly,” he bent down and sneered in her face. He wasn’t going to let her ruin him again. Brionna just grinned back at him.

“I’ll see you later, Ryan,” she replied calmly and turned to leave the room. He shut the door behind her and then turned toward Ashley who was standing there almost in tears. He didn’t know what to say. How could she possibly be related to someone as onerous as Brionna? How had he never known about this darkness in her family? He had so many questions for his girlfriend, but her face held no answers.

“I’m sorry, Ryan,” she finally croaked. “I should have told you. I had no idea you used to know her.” Ryan thought for a moment; he loved Ashley so much, he had to give her the benefit of the doubt. But there was one thing he couldn’t get out of his head…

“Why didn’t you tell me she was your sister?” he asked hurtfully. Ashley’s lip began to quiver as she held back even more tears.

“I’m scared of her,” she answered. “I’m scared of what she might do.” She wiped her eyes, her hands shaking. “I took my mom’s name and cut myself off from her years ago. You don’t understand what she did to me.” Nor do I want to know, Ryan said to himself. He stepped forward and gently took Ashley’s shoulders in his hands.

“Ashley,” he began, “I love you so much…but I can’t do this.” He felt tears begin to escape his eyes; he blinked them back. “Not with her in our lives again.” He hated to do this, but he couldn’t put himself through it all one more time. He couldn’t bear to see Brionna destroy what he loved, shatter his dreams of a perfect life. It would be impossible. “Goodbye,” he muttered. And with that, he gave Ashley a sad kiss on the cheek, left her apartment and drove home.

“Alright!” Mr. DiPalma barked from the center of the auditorium. “Let’s call it a night!” Nick sighed with relief as he bounded down the stage steps – his beefy pecs bouncing underneath the white, sweat-stained T-shirt he was wearing. They had been working the Shoeless Joe number hard. It was the first time Nick had ever danced and frankly, it was almost as grueling as a full day of wrestling practice. His feet throbbed, his throat was sore and he had a pounding headache from trying to remember all the steps. A couple of times, he had stumbled, eliciting glares from DiPalma.

“Nick,” Ms. Gross, the choir director, came up to him as he grabbed his sweatshirt draped over the back of an auditorium seat, “you’re doing great.” He looked at her unconvinced. She was just being nice, smiling sweetly at him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, tossing the shirt over his shoulder.

“No, really,” she insisted, “playing the lead in your first musical is not easy. You’re doing it very well.” She clutched his hand and squeezed it excitedly. “You look like a natural up there.” Nick thanked the woman again. Yeah, he had hit a few sour notes and missed a few steps, but it wasn’t that bad. “Good look tomorrow,” she then whispered. “We’ll be thinking of you.” Nick grinned. The state wrestling tournament was the next day and, while he was the heavy favorite to go to the championship, he was a tad nervous about it. After all, the Spartans were heavily favored to win the state football title…and they blew it. Nick heaved his backpack onto his round shoulder and headed toward the exit. It was 9:30; just enough time to put in a quick workout before resting up for the tournament.

“Nick,” Greg called after him. He swung around to see the boy jogging up the aisle toward him. He stopped breathlessly in front of him and looked like he was speechless for a moment, but then he came to. “I just wanted to say…well, I just wanna…I mean…good luck at the wrestling game tomorrow,” he babbled, his eyes wide, his fingers playing with his long hair that fell over his thin shoulders.

“Thanks, dude,” Nick answered, grinning. The kid was cute, that was for sure. Nick was just about to turn again when Greg spoke up once more.

“Um, can I ask you somethin’?”

“Sure, what?” Greg suddenly blushed and bit his lip, glancing at his shoelaces.

“Can I…I mean, would you mind if I…you know…” As the boy mumbled, he kept staring at Nick’s huge arms. Nick grinned.

“You want to feel my biceps,” he finished, raising his eyebrows. Greg swallowed hard and gave a slight nod. “No problem.” And then, Nick flexed his right arm in front of Greg’s face. At first he thought Greg was going to pee in his pants; his mouth dropped open. No doubt, it was the biggest, most impressive muscle he had ever seen…he hesitantly reached up and felt it, gasping in awe…and the hardest, densest muscle he had ever felt, too. Nick’s arm just dwarfed Greg’s hand so much it wasn’t even funny.

“How did you get….” Greg breathed.

“How did they get so big?” Nick completed his question. He nodded again. “I work out like crazy every day.” Greg gazed up at him in reverence. “You know,” Nick smiled, “I used to be skinnier than you.”

“Really?” the kid’s eyes widened even more.

“What are you? 120?” Nick sized him up, squinting his eyes as he looked down at Greg’s body.

“Yeah,” he answered, tucking his hair behind his ears again. “I’m small for a sophomore.”

“So?” Nick laughed. “That doesn’t mean anything. If you hit the weights a bit, I’m sure the girls would definitely go after you.” Greg bit his lip and looked away for a second.

“Actually,” he mumbled, “I’m gay.” Nick grinned. Buddy, he thought, if you only knew.

“Ok,” he said, cocking his head to one side, “so maybe the guys would definitely go after you.” Greg chuckled. “See ya around,” he added, patting him on the shoulder and leaving the auditorium. Just before he turned away, he caught a look of sheer admiration from Greg. Nick knew instantly that he looked up to him, respected him deeply. And that made Nick feel good. He smiled to himself as he went out into the sports lobby between the gym and the auditorium. Suddenly, he felt his body tingle…and that meant only one thing…

“Hey,” Erin sighed from across the hall. He had sensed her presence and gazed into her eyes longingly, his cock immediately standing on end. Impulsively, his hand wandered down to his crotch – God, it ached so much. “You looked so hot on that stage,” Erin gasped.

“You, too,” he replied and the two rushed toward each other, meeting in a passionate embrace. Nick’s tremendous bulge rubbed up against Erin’s crotch as they kissed. “We can’t do this right here,” he breathed, “not in the middle of the sports lobby.”

“Come on, then,” she tugged at his thick forearms. Nick felt his dick throb painfully, its massive girth straining the fabric of his pants.

“You promised you wouldn’t keep me up tonight,” he warned, though he knew it’d be useless. “I have a wrestling match tomorrow.”

“Can we just do it a couple of times,” Erin whined desperately. Nick felt himself weakening. How could he resist her? He knew he should go home and sleep, but he couldn’t say no to the hottest girl he had ever laid eyes on. Plus, it had been almost five hours since they had last had sex. “Come on,” she urged, pulling a condom package out of her pocket. Nick moaned; he couldn’t take it any longer. With a sigh, he pushed her into the gymnasium and underneath the bleachers, ripping open her shirt as they moved. Her breasts fell out, her nipples slapping against his pecs. Lustfully, Erin, helped Nick peeled his T-shirt over his head and began feverously licking his abs as he pulled down her pants.

“Oh, fuck!” he gasped as he picked her up and backed her against the wall, her fingers unbuttoning his jeans in the process. His monster cock popped out and immediately splooged all over Erin’s stomach. “Shit,” he breathed. He simply wasn’t able to hold it in anymore, but the two knew he’d recover in seconds. Sure enough, before Erin was even able to rip the condom wrapper open, Nick’s dick was at its full 10 inches again…and they commenced their love-making. The condom safely on, Nick fucked his girlfriend like never before, the feeling of his miraculous organ sloshing her wet cunt filling their bones. Nick’s eyes fogged over as he creamed a second time, eight gigantic eruptions of his superior man-juice invading her insides. But before either could catch their breath – five seconds later – Nick got hard again and the two resumed, his hips banging her pelvis with intense want.

“Harder,” Erin hissed, clutched her boyfriend’s rock-hard ass-cheeks and pushing him even further into her. “Faster!” Nick obeyed her, pumping her powerfully with his aching penis. Foosh! He exploded a third time, this time with even more intense impact. Sweat poured off every inch of their bodies as they held each other tightly. Erin grabbed the back of Nick’s head. “Don’t stop!” she pleaded and his cock immediately began to harden yet again!

“Fuck!” Nick grunted, picking his girlfriend easily up in his arms and wrapping her legs around his athletic waist, railing her a third time with no less strength than he had the first two. His muscles red and flushed with blood, he pressed Erin up and down his huge cock as she shrieked in ecstasy. Nick ejaculated one last time, making her nearly pass out from it all. Both their chests heaving with exhaustion, their bodies covered in glistening sweat, Nick and Erin looked silently at each other.

So much for a little workout, Nick thought to himself.

Billy stepped out of the high school weight room, his gym bag hung over his broad shoulders. That workout felt awesome; he could almost literally feel himself getting stronger by the day. And watching his lifts get heavier and heavier with each workout was a thrill; he could bench 500 pounds already! He’d be unstoppable come track season; the shot put would be flying for miles. Smiling to himself, Billy turned the corner…and almost walked flat smack into Trish.

“Oh, sorry,” he grunted as she bounced off his gigantic chest. She laughed and picked up the bag she had dropped.

“It’s alright,” she answered, smiling brightly up at him. “I don’t mind bumping into you.” Her words sounded weird, distant kind of, but Billy was too busy gazing into her eyes to think about it. Wow, she was pretty.

“I was just on my way home,” he mumbled nervously. He was going to Nick’s wrestling match tomorrow, so he had cut his workout a little short.

“Did you come from the weight room?” Trish asked, eyeing his tremendous bulk with a wide expression. Billy nodded. “I can tell,” she went on. “Your arms are huge.” She reached up and touched his biceps; her hands felt cool against his warm skin. “They can probably throw that shot put out of the stadium,” she added. Billy bit his lip; he didn’t know how to respond to something like that. He knew from the moment he first saw Trish that he had a crush on her. And it was pretty obvious that she was attracted to him, too. He had wanted to ask her out for months, but he was nervous. Billy bit his lip; Brandon was right, he had to make his move now or it may never come again.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, a lump making his words come out weird. Trish looked up at him hopefully. “Do you wanna…you know…do something sometime?” he said. She smiled, almost giggling like a little girl.

“Are you asking me out?” she blurted excitedly. Billy looked at the floor for a second.

“I guess so,” he replied. Trish was practically vibrating in her shoes as she placed her hands on his massive pecs.

“Yes,” she shouted ecstatically, “I’d love to go out with you.” Billy didn’t know what to think; he had simply never felt like this before. Never in his life did a girl seem this interested in him. I guess it’s because I’m a jock now, he wondered. Jocks were supposed to have pretty girlfriends…and now he did, too. Trish looked back up at him. “Can I kiss you?” Billy stared blankly down at her.

“Uh…ok,” he muttered. Now what do I do, he thought. He had never kissed a girl before. So, he did what he always saw in the Saturday morning cartoons – he closed his eyes and puckered up his lips. Trish laughed.

“No, silly,” she grinned broadly, “like this.” Suddenly, she grabbed his head in her hands and thrust her body into him, kissing him passionately. Billy nearly jumped when her tongue entered his mouth. You were supposed to use tongue? He did the only thing he could – he kissed her back the same way. “Mm, yeah,” Trish moaned. Then, she released him and he blinked dazedly. Whoa! So that’s how you kiss a girl. “I guess I’ll see you around,” she sang.

“Yeah,” he responded, gazing at her, stunned. There was still a lot he had to learn about girls.

Nick sat in the middle of the George Mason University locker room, his elbows on his knees, fondling his wrestling headgear in his hands. Here he was, a few days shy of his 15th birthday and he was only minutes away from wrestling in the state championship. He had always dreamt of this ever since he was a little kid, clipping all those newspaper articles of JP and watching his idol in the very same arena he was sitting in now. But now it was his turn. It felt like a dream; he felt like he would wake up any minute and be in his bed at home. He slapped his hands against his muscular thighs…nope, this was real. He really was the teenage superjock he saw in the mirror across the room, wearing the Spartans Wrestling warm-up suit. This was really happening.

“You ready, dude?” Kyle poked his head around the corner. Nick looked up and smiled.

“Yeah,” he said, standing up and swinging his arms back and forth to loosen them.

“Cool, Coach will be back in few minutes,” the smaller boy beamed. “Brandon’s winning his match. The last I checked, the score was 7-4.” Nick grinned proudly. Brandon had also advanced to his championship bout – that’s where Graves was now. With Kyle defending his title from last year and now Brandon on the verge of victory, a win for Nick would give the Spartans another triple…and raise Central High School to an unprecedented place in local sports history. Just thinking of that – knowing that he was a part of it all, just like JP – gave him butterflies. He took in a deep breath to relax himself – his huge chest heaving outwards, the material of the warm-up jacket sliding against his smooth skin. He shook his legs as he waited patiently for his time to move. A loud cheer erupted from the direction of the arena floor – Brandon’s match was over.

“I think he won!” Kyle shouted. Nick closed his eyes, wishing he were able to see his teammate’s triumph. How he would have loved to look in his flawless face, those full lips grinning broadly, his baby blue eyes twinkling, his sculpted body glistening in the skin-tight singlet. “Dude, stop thinking about Erin!” Kyle suddenly brought Nick out of his daydream.

“Wha?” he came to. Kyle raised one eyebrow and titled his head down toward Nick’s crotch. His cock was rock-hard, tenting the pants of the warm-up suit. He blushed as Kyle laughed.

“When do you ever stop thinking about her?” he said, shaking his head.

“What do you mean?” Nick asked, feeling guilty that he was thinking of Brandon and not his girlfriend. Damn, he had to stop doing that. Kyle looked up at him with an odd expression.

“You don’t think we know how many times you and her do it every day,” he replied, comically rolling his eyes. “In the bathroom, in the locker room, underneath the bleachers.” Nick looked bashfully down at the floor. “Hey, don’t take this the wrong way, but…if she were my girlfriend, I’d be doin’ the same thing.” Nick laughed heartily. He could always count on Kyle to lighten the mood.

“Angelakis!” a voice echoed into the locker room, immediately bringing Nick back to attention.

“Kick some ass out there!” Kyle slapped him on the back as he took one more deep breath and headed toward the arena floor.

“Fuck yeeeeah!” Ian’s roars echoed throughout the weight room as he powered through his fifth set of biceps curls. Shit, 200 pounds was starting to feel light! He smirked in pride as he watched his humongous biceps get more and more pumped, stretching the sleeves of his T-shirt with each rep.

“Ian, you might wanna slow down,” Rick squeaked next to him. “You’re gonna rip through another shirt.” Ian sneered at his lifting “partner,” causing him to immediately look away. The steroids Ian had been taking were working magic on his body. He worked out constantly, he was eating, like, 24/7 and each day he was getting bigger and bigger and bigger. After four months of heavy juicing, super heavy lifting and swelling to incredible sizes, Ian was scary big. He had grown out of all his clothes within the first month…and then grew out of all his brand new clothes two months later. RRRIP!

“Aw, shit!” Ian exclaimed as his right sleeve tore down the middle, the skin of his peaked biceps poking through the fabric. RRRIP! There went the left one. He continued his set – even though he had gone way past the usual number of reps – screwing up his face in determination. RipRIIIIPPPP! His right sleeve tore completely, right up to the shoulder, his biceps now fully exposed, covered in thick veins. They were no match for the flimsy strands of cotton.

“Oh, my God,” Rick breathed, staring wide-eyed. Ian stood up and walked over to the wall mirror. God is right, he thought. I am a god! Then, he lifted his massive arms and flexed them. RIIP! The remnants of his shirt sleeves ripped once more and fell to shreds under his bulging triceps.

“Did you see how these pythons obliterated those sleeves, man?” Ian bellowed. Just like they obliterate anyone who stands in my way, he said to himself. Suddenly, he flexed his lats, spreading them out like wings. RIIIIPP! Ian felt the shirt split down the middle of his back. There goes yet another shirt, he thought proudly. Well, it was excruciatingly tight in his mammoth chest. “Damn, I feel huge,” he said out loud. “I must’ve gotten bigger. Let’s weigh me.” And with that, he peeled the shirt off his torso – letting it tear some more – and sauntered over to the scale, his swollen thighs rubbing against each other. Yeah, they were feeling bigger, too. Heck, when you can squat 600 and leg press 1500, they had to be big!

Slowly, Ian stepped onto the scale and peered over his chest – 253 pounds! 253? That’s it? He only put on two pounds in the last week? What the fuck?! He looked back at his reflection and suddenly felt small. He knew he could be bigger than that. He had to be. He grabbed his gym bag and headed for the bathroom.

“Where you going?” Rick asked, following him.

“Where do you think?” Ian retorted. 253 pounds was too small; he needed to boost it. Back at the end of football season – when he was a puny 215 – his goal was to bulk up to 225. Well, it only took him a month to do that…so he set a new goal for 240. That was accomplished by the end of January…then an even 250, which he hit at the end of February. Now, he was going for 260…and he wanted to get there before April. A measly two pounds a week wasn’t going to do it.

“You’re not gonna…” Rick said, but Ian glared at him to shut up. He sure was! How else was he going to get more muscle? The steroids were becoming something Ian needed. Sometimes, he couldn’t go a day without sticking himself. He would begin to sweat if he went more than 24 hours without it.

He sighed as the needle sunk into his hip. Damn, that felt good! 260, here I come, he said to himself. •