Oh yeah, nice, he groaned, now awake, and then thrust his smacky dick one last time in the wet, spuge-y sheets and turned his body into the dark and let his rod’s 14 inches swing in the air.

His breath came smoothly in and out of his snout and he felt relaxed and reassured. His 224 lb body felt simply good in the bed and he just contemplated and reverenced what it was to have become this big, this built.

There was strength and force now – he could enlist it and watch legitimate loads of iron move deliberately in the gym. He could gather his limbs together and make flexed bulges show his power.

It was clear that he was ‘bodybuilt’, was ‘developed’, had an ‘advanced’ physique. It was clear that a muscular exterior hung on who he’d once been. He was sculpted and rising and he loved how he got at his seared waist and then how virile breadth crossed at his shoulders and that the full circumference rounded his arms and his legs.

It was symmetrical now and balanced and beautiful but he wanted to leave that behind…. He knew that he’d continue pushing and pumping and that one day beyond beautiful and balanced, he’d be hulking, grotesque, freakily extreme – Frick, it’d be so that he was so muscularly heavy that a posing trunk would show him straining, show him being a vessel-webbed gargantuan freak.

He stood from the bed. His body felt vibrant and solidly coiled. It was so quick. In the dark, he found his way to the bureau. They’d given him the stuff he’d begged for – there was human growth hormone here – he had it, oh f’ing god he had it, and he would do as he would. He’d go so f’ing full bore bud they’d never say they were in the know – he’d take ungodly quantities pretending it was less and them telling everyone else it was too little for his heart to fail or kidneys to shutdown. Yet he fucking knew, didn’t care what they had to say to themselves, he’d f’ing take what he’d want. He didn’t give a crap what they feared. Didn’t give an ounce what they thought. He knew those fucking fatalities wouldn’t happen to him – he was going to make himself a GOD.

The dose he prepared then was ten or twenty times what others would dare. He opened the drawer and made out all that was within. He pulled out syringes and inserted their tips through the rubber seals on the tops of the meticulously labeled glass jars again and again. He laid one after the other on the soft gauze of the dresser readying each one to be jabbed.

He mugged at them. Smiled to see the throat-choking quantity that was laid there. It was the multitude that only someone truly sick would do – only someone who depths-of-the-sole yearned with every tear in their body for the transmutation into a brutal, raging heave. Only the fuck who knew that they could one day lord the body that would scream its mindless diluviation by annihilating doses again and again and again.

Oh fuck, this is going to be intense. He flicked the vials four or five times until he was confident the injections would go well. Oh god, how you love this, mass fucking hound, he said.

He touched the points against the curve of his now gorgeous round thigh. Yes, do yourself Horseboy. He injected the needles into his flesh one by one, each time squeezing so that all of the stuff that would do its thing disappeared silently into his bodily realm. Oh god, I’m gonna start taking more, he said and in his voice was something of a crazed muscle whore.

Adam grew more intentional with the world. He grew more commanding with the weights. Before, he’d done what they’d said he ought – a hopeful student doing the job.

Now, he did what he wanted to, showing them what a man ravenous for true power can achieve. He took the metal and piled it beyond what could possibly come next – beyond what they expected he could ever have done. He knew he was more brutal than that now – more tyrannical in his cravenous hunger to take the bulk-incarnating pain. It was jerking-off joy to find hefts that were beyond his ‘supposed’ ability and then explode them with vein-bubbling strain massively into the air showing new levels of circumference-inflated supremacy and hardening might.

From the overhead bar, the mirrored wall could be seen. His hands wrapped the bar semi-wide and with his ankles crossed and behind, he pulled up his giant body, his cock erectioning as he admired 249 lbs of Herculean form moving with strict control.

The count of the reps had gone from up to 14, but it was the addition of weight to his mass and hanging from the chain that had made his accomplishment so much godlier, that showed how his force grew more dominant and impervious to the futile resistance of the outside world.

AACCGGHRH he grunted as he churned out the 3rd rep. The weight straps on his wrist kept him on the bar. Oh, he loved the idea of them. And this belt strangling around his waist dangling the extra 190 lbs. UAAWWGHH he blew and put his chin to the bar for his twelfth rep and then churned out two more.

He dropped to the floor and panted with his hands on these massive muscular quads. The weight touched the floor and the suspending belt pulled the shorts from his waist – he luxuriated in the drag against the root of his dong and cock-sneered that it was now pulled naked for all of them to see.

AggHa he self-congratulated for the effort he’d blown wide and stretched his bulging arms so that his pecced mass stood especially large, and so that his phallus showed even more. Fuck, he felt good. He undid the belt and left the weight on the floor.

He reached overhead and put his hands upon the bar, stretching and leaning forward from his hold. Oh god, he said looking at the twelve-packed mounds that girdled from his waist up to below his pecs – pecs that hung like lifters tits with their domed up power and shape.

Jesus it can’t be, he said and stared at the foot of Vee’d flesh that latt-ed beneath each of the growingly missiled arms that glorified his build. I’m getting to be a fucking genuine Khan.

In his cot with lights out, he reached to his 258 lb hulked up torso. His finger centered on his navel amongst the Mars-entering-Neptune carves that swelled his front. He brought his hand up and let his palm touch on his mammoth pec domes that beautifully rose widely on his breast.

He reached toward his groin and let his hand bump over one ab-loaf after another. He settled his fingers on his organ and began to pull the emergency handle of his 9-inches-when-down endowment and then touched to his lift-drained more than 17-inch grown, 31-inch thigh. Ah… fuu—uuckk, escaped his breath.

He reached from the bed and uncapped the bottle of pills that was there. How many of you fuckers are going to do your thing for me now, he said. He tilted the pharmaceuticals toward his mouth and more than he could count fell in. He swallowed piggishly and then laughed. oh… fucking fuck yourself…yeaH

He took himself in his hands and inflated to the feeling of the way-too-large-to-be-ignorable-now changes on his bod. A minute passed and he pumped more athletically… oh yes.. oh YeAh…oh fUcKIng YEaH… Cum launched from his 14 inch lever into the cavern of air he had made.

He caught it in his mouth and more sprayed onto his nose and also onto the blanket he held tented above. Oh fuck, that’s good, he remarked and relished the feeling as his liquid seed dropped and then ran abundantly off his bodybuilder bull’s massive neck, chest, and gut.

That was a nice meal, he finally said, Why do I so love to eat my own cum? But I better go eat a fuck of a lot more. He rose from the midnight sheets and started to pull the twenty-one canned shakes he’d need to down out of their case one-by-one.

Adam stood servicing the pacific islander butt. He smiled at how incidental it felt, how easily sex surged through his build – indifferent to the puny fucks around him. Yet he knew what it must be doing to Romiano and that gave him a stupid joy.

Yes, he thought, it only gets better with a 265 lb bod ramming the pounds. He arc’ed his wasp-cocky hips forward and felt his buttocks grow into their hard, swollen mountain range of two even as his cock wave-swelled bigger with his exaggerated thrust.

Ha, yeah, he breathed and enjoyed the intoxication of this body that was more than any Russian National champion whose taken sick quantities of muscle-dope would have ever felt.

He monitored his sexual work on Romiano and savored his ripped-ab-mounted dong. Oh Romiano, oh baby, I do you hard. He worked his length in and out and all 14 inches were disappearing and then coming free. He looked at his own naked body. His balls were massive pendulating in and against the little ass. Aaah, he admired, You’re a mutant Pitt, Adam, except ot pathetic and puny like he was in "Troy" with his "big" bod... You've gone four times larger than that fucker, Pone, You'd be the sequel where digitations have pumped up Achilles so he’s grotesquely Massive and Huge.

He admired himself, Fuck, and loved how he narrowed and then exploded with mass, loved how his waist clamped in at 32 inches and steeled equally tight along his trunk until the 35 inches just below his pecs suddenly explosion-erupted into 58-inches of mass-striating size. He loved how his arms and his legs had shape that were 22-inches and 33-inches immense with inconceivable flow that one would see on a comic books teen studboy hit with some kind of diabolical muscle-growth ray.

Take that, little butt-fuckee, he said and planted with command. Oh, the feeling was wonderful and he knew how it would be when he’d shoot his load. He knew, when he did, it would have earned him more than the next 18 or 20 porkish doses that would sickly force him to continue to grow.

He knew the shots were getting him phenomenally large now – and he grew more and more brainfucked and serene.

They’d go to the lifting room’s back corner three times a day and he’d lift the nylon-meshed shorts off of his ass and expose a striated, muscled cheek where they’d administer doses and more doses before he’d finally say ok. When he’d go lift, he could now lift harder than any other mass boy could know.

In the mess hall he ate so you wouldn’t recognize that it was even a man never mind the wimp who’d once eaten pickingly of his meals or of institutional food.

The portions would sprawl in a disgusting heap not just across his plate but off the edges of the tray as well. The thick-sprawl of food would be so fetished by him – the need to force it into his body to shove his muscles bigger, made him pig its revolting quantities down.

It was a hungering bull’s slamming loads of transforming change… the fat, the bloody flesh, the wasted carbs – his behavior was so unrecognizable now. The instinct to starve – once part of his nature of denial and self-disgust, had been blown away, and now he reveled in chowhounding, shoveling demands.

Ten months after he’d started, he’d found his hungered way to needing constantly more, to porkishly eating 12 or fourteen times per day. Needing to make himself harder, tougher, huger.

C’mon beef, he’d grunt to slopping mounds dirty across his tray, make me so fucking, fucking large.

Romiano’s silver eyes fluttered and his drifting lids floated low across his pupils. If a mere look can assault the flesh it encounters, Adam could feel the groping of Romiano’s glance on his glorifically human-immense 282 pounds.

Oh, how do you feel, Adam? Romiano asked, his eyes closing and then easing open again. Oh how does it feel? Romiano’s hand explored into the trenching gully where Adam’s massive thigh joined under his orange-sized balls. Adam appreciated the elegance of the move, particularly since Romiano was suspended deeply on Adam’s cock as Adam squatted its length up and back farther and farther into Romiano’s ass.

Adam let the touch excite him more. Romiano’s languid stare drilled Adam’s porn-pharmaceuticalled Samsonic pec and then lateraled to his Zeus-boltning lat. Oh, fuck, it feels good to be a fucking muscle-mountained thug, Adam thought.

His body wasn’t some fucking wannabe’s now. The proportions were exceeding what even most mass-fucks could conceive.

You’ve already cummed, my Heaving boy. You needn’t cum again, Romiano purred at him, I just needed to be your momentary tool. Adam knew he could have blasted the ass again at will, but simply said, Ok.

Adam unsheathed uncounted inches from Romiano’s hole, lifting Romiano like he was a pot of plants, and then slinked his tremoring column back into an exhibitioning spandexed thong. Fuck the skimp did all in its power to don his orgasmic wealth.

He stood there. His legs 35 inches round, projecting cock-intentionally from his 29 inch waist. He looked at the forms on his chest and their 14 ¾ inch rise. He brought his fists up in a cross before them and ogled as a dilettante would who’d managed to gain himself the gigantic mass of the biggest Big Super Heavyweight Ton.

There were so many fucks who couldn’t even imagine these hulkish, blast-powerful monster domes, couldn’t imagine these satellite blasted bicep globes, couldn’t imagine this back that could’ve withstood a nuclear attack. He slid on the ribbed tank and boned to know how searing it was, throbbed to hear it fucking tatter indiscriminately across the rocks of his muscular prominotories. Fuck, it was so much incredibly more than his limited suburban-babied muscles should ever have possibly known.

He preened haughtily at the flagrant shreds of the tank and the blatant trumpeting of the backless bikini on his magnificent ass. He knew that his huge raging cock gave him a superior man-is-a-fertility-totem air. His ego-cocking pride was built up every bit as much as his build and he cockily slung himself with the 282 lbs of massive, hard beef. It was euphoric – beyond euphoric – intense in every possible cellular and molecular way. He wanted to roar with the glory of pure energy coursing from the sun.

He was a manfuck with engorgement now – and he could still truly say that it had only just begun. Romiano could only guess - Adam knew - at how this all could feel. Romiano couldn’t know what Adam so incomprehensibly pulsed with every moment of every day, couldn’t know how much sensation caroused through his muscles and his veins, couldn’t imagine how fevered Adam became realizing where he was so willing to more insanely go.

Adam’s body moved and every time it did, up and down his physique the incredible inundation of his flexing mass tremored him alive. He’d never have guessed at the buzz of nitro-blasting sensations that this girth of muscle would feed to him.

Oh god, he told himself, Oh how I want to show.

He walked his 6 foot and 3 inches over to Romiano now and stood Goliathly mammoth and tall. He pushed his hand into the sausage that was swaddled at his groin. Oh fuck, Romee, your so delicious, you and your little bod. Adam knew so explicitly what overwhelming awesomeness this megularity would stir. Fucking Fuck, he knew how grossly hungry he was for the forging and smelting still to come.

Uhhhh, he fully moaned and then as he tilted Romiano’s head back he inserted his shlong and fucked an orgasm a foot and a quarter deep into Romiano’s yawning craw. The fireworks of climax were seared with the imagination of what he would be like with another 45 lbs of size.

The mist from the shower drifted easily out into the changing area with its bolted down tables. Adam flex-shred his tank top and ceiling-hulked enormously with his aching chest bulging high as he narcissused the view on what wasn't a mere 45 lbs more but a fucking 75 lbs more massive and mighty. He horned his breast and looked at the ridiculous 357 lbs that monstrosilly overwhelmed his beloved mass.

He was cut enormous, and swollen with incredible heights that came from here and gullied to there. He was beyond bulking – way too body-pumped for anyone to not shrink back in stupor at what he’d done, at what noone ought to have been able to have become. But fucking creamiest of all was that no one could deny how he’d grown, how only 42 weeks ago he’d been 236 lbs a lesser being at the once pathetic and breakable 121 lbs.

He kicked and his flipflops fired against the cinderblock wall.

He pushed the desperately thin cotton of the 2xist scraps off his severe-curving ass so that the shlong-hammock twisted up as he pushed it to the floor. His thighs rose in 5 braided cords and pushed into each other at their 41” gnarled heights. The tight domes of his muscular ass were like something taken from a statue of Grecian times and cut into a center ass-cavern that only made them insanely accentuated and four times the size and more unreal.

He stood naked and knew that his wasp-king waist supported a heaving dangle that was desirable by all women and all men – it was a phallic-staff that would gang-slam obliterate the juiciest of loose-fucked cunts and fuck smear the most bodybuildingly built man’s rear– And oh god it could send anyone to mindless sexed heaven.

The fact that his back and shoulders had an alphabetic vee that made it look like the alphabet was all one letter and that his behemothic specimenity made him comparable to Jay and Ronnie and Branch rolled into one was a further bone hardener.

Fuck, he groaned to himself and looked at the 26-inchers that hung at his side like a porkboy who didn’t even know how much muscle he’d ever inconceivably gained.

Ahhahhh, His cock hung with a hard-ons throb and he smiled to see its 14 inches erect with their mushroom-swollen knob. It’s time for the denizens to really learn this bod.

He walked so that this unfamiliarly huge body disappeared into the mist, knowing there were six guys there. They would see him revealed – this naked act of exhibition was something that would have been beyond him no matter how much he had wanted it before the change -- they’d have shut him down at any attempt of gratuitous display, but now he lorded his command, lusty for the slutty reactions of the cocked up manly men and feeding on what it’d bring.

He stepped into the space beneath the foggy bulb and held himself open and vast.

He drank in the sight of the Adonis like features of two ebony black studs and the mix of model-bodied slims beyond. He nodded his neigh-worthy mien towards the two 220 lbers whose muscles he’d have once envied and would have thought of as huge. Fuck, how ridiculous small their swollen little Fuksyiques seemed now.

Hey, he said. He saw from their faces the revulsion at his equine facade, but also their irresistible surrender to his body, the crotchal craziness that poled arousedly at his great, immensely swollen muscular size.

He soaped up with exaggeration the far-reaching curves that had blown his heaving young torso into swells and blasts of immense 75-lb limbs. He suds’d his hangings and excavated the humping 16” depths of his ass and let the shower rain down all over his malformed features. He lapped the water with his thick tongue and snotted, watching the blow land on the vastness of his solaring 90” shoulder and then stream far out across his might before it could run down toward the drain.

He raised his hands and his arms bunched into 27” footballs as he ran his fingers through his hair. To stretch – to feel free, yes. A smile crawled across his horse-teeth and his nose drooled. He smacked his lips, licked the snot from his nostril, and rinsed the remnants of sweat and dirt from his growing humongity – a twelve-pack of ripples crucifying his abs like boulders thundering under some alpine-water streambed. His gut crushing into his innards, breaking against his very fucking spine. He tossed his head at the others. You want to be fucked by a God?

The six took their turns, the two obsidian muscle studs first, their asses maimed by his incredible cock. He fucked the two with one in front of the other. As he rammed his endless pole, the cock of the first crawled up the ass of the second and his powerful slams made both finely-balled scrotes cum. Oh fuck, Ponyboy thought this was enjoyable beyond compare.

The pool of cum came spilling back out of each ass and Ponyboy knelt his gargantuan build to their holes and with his powerful, oversized tongue licked out the acrid remnant of his blow pulling their ass-spattering with it as he did.

He turned toward the exit. Thanks, he said, his shoulders rotated and his chest ached because it was so swollen and hard.

Thanks, he said, his buttocks bulge-swelling incomprehensibly at his steps, his cock pork-slapping between massive Jupiterian thighs.

Thanks, he breathed as he cleared the door.

And then, in a voice that echoed in the cum chamber whose denizens’ sense of godliness he’d forever transformed, he said, I’m vast but I’m only going to get vaster… so vast that God will be the only receiver worthy of my ruling rod.

Adam stood in Trib’s room. His torso earthquaked against the wall in that curl that only truly massive TITAN LORDS can have.

He slouched away from the wall on the stone cold floor feeling imposingly huge-porned with his 404 lbs.

His feet parted about 3 feet on the concrete floor and his legs splayed with shape that strain-tattered the whole of his pants’ greenish-blue hue.

His cock and balls were totemically evident through the threads and he leered at the continental bulge that the hidden spandexed bikini mountained upward unignorably for its press and size.

Trib shifted his own massive naked 273 lbs body back and forth against the gains that black-hole hulkified Adam. He was lesser than Adam now and there was something that drove him out of control. Trib, the 28-year-old Clark Kentish hotrod, caressed the rough face and the universe-throbbing muscles of the inhuman 23-year-old’s bod.

Adam, you are a god, he said.

I am, Trib.

I never dreamed that this is what you’d become, Trib lowed.

But this is what I fucking am, Adam replied, his voice having not the lightest touch of the young man now.

He raised his chest and 84 inches of shredded pec beef exploded upon his throne.

He shifted his weight and the pants shattered back and forth across the swollen ass that rose 24 inches and had all the power that a man-devouring herd of cheetah’s could together provide.

Adam flexed his massive shieldshape and the tanktop he wore violently dissolved so that it now straggled from his 19” traps and shredded down onto his rippled mountainous torso plains.

Trib stared into Adam’s eyes and held Adam’s face letting his thumb roam across Adam’s thick lip, on his cheek and then against his bony nostril. Then his lips were on Adam’s face touching it everywhere like a snake. He pulled back and looked at Adam.

How did you grow so fucking huge, Adam, he said. He untied the waist of Adam’s pants and tugged on them to expose the element that lay largely against the two massively grown 60” thighs. Oh, sweetness, did you even know how glorious it would be to grow so ‘fucking’, ‘fucking’ HUGE, he said with a brutal emphasis on the words following the ‘f’.

Adam brought his hands behind his head and re-swelled his torso inflating into an incomprehensibly vast pose whose 32” arms showed that he was the four monuments of Rushmore all on his own. Oh fucking I feel more than I can feel. He boomed and his body looked like it would’ve withstood the impact of the moon falling to the earth below.

His cock unfolded to 15 inches and he said, You know, Trib. I know what it is to be a God.

And with that, Ponyboy turned Trib’s striated bodybuilt ass-sick mounds over and for the first time drove his mammothicular organ into Trib’s orgasmic home. •