Membership Has It's Privileges

By Josef Howard

"I hope you don't mind, but this is sort of a family-run gym. I don't like to just take people's money. I like to know a little about them."

Zack didn't mind at all. Sitting across the dusty desk in the office around the corner from the front desk staring into this stud's green eyes was enough to keep him happily occupied for hours. The guy behind the desk was the whole reason Zack had decided to join a second gym. He had a physique that would have made an Olympian weep. His arms were solid masses of fibrous muscle as wide as his head. The biceps were big as footballs and just as round and shapely. Zack could hardly keep from thinking what he looked like with his t-shirt off. The thing he couldn't figure out was how somebody that sold memberships in a backwater gym like this in North Hollywood that hadn't even bought a piece of new equipment since the Vic Tanny days could look like him.

"Tell me about your goals, Zack."

"Well, I want to get as big as I can," Zack said, the faintest pink of a blush coloring his cheeks. It was embarrassing to admit that considering how many years he'd been working out and how little he had to show for it. Every time Zack told someone that he felt like an abject failure. "Size has always been my goal, even if it's been a struggle."

The instructor absent mindedly fingered the crack in the wall near his ear without taking his laser-like eyes off Zack's face. "Would you like to be as big as me?" he asked in an innocent tone that seemed to preclude a yes, as if acknowledging the obvious fact that none of the common gym rats wanted size like his.

"Hell, yes!"

"Really? Don't be polite. I see the looks on the faces of the guys on the street when I walk by. Some are disgusted and the rest are afraid." The instructor could see in Zack's face that he was neither. "I often wonder if they're afraid of me or afraid of what's exposed inside them when they look at me." The instructor raised his arms and put his hands behind his neck. Zack could see thick pulsating veins even on the underside of his arms. "I don't see fear in your eyes, though, Zack, do I?"

"Huh?" Zack suddenly realized he'd been asked a question.

The instructor chuckled. "Listen, if you're serious about that, I've got some stuff that could make a difference."

Zack frowned inside. Here comes the pitch. This is why this blond god invited him into the office. He was selling `roids. Not that Zack was against them, but he'd rather the guy have a more prurient interest in him.

"I know what you're thinking. It's not that kind of stuff. It's kind of hard to explain. I don't actually know what it is, but the guys that gave it to me like me to spread it around, and to tell the truth I like spreading it around." The instructor leaned forward. "You ever see a guy grow a hundred pounds of muscle right before your eyes? Like that?" He snapped his fingers. "I have. And it's the hottest thing I've ever seen. Hotter than the raunchiest porn in the world. Makes me squirt like a fire hose."

"Are you offering it to me?"

"Damn straight! The only condition is I get to watch!"

Zack couldn't help but feel this scene was like a porn video - even the guy's dialog – but it was Zack's kind of porn video.

"I'm in," Zack said.

The instructor extended his clenched fist for Zack to knuckle-rap. Zack had never been a jock. Completing the gesture always left him feeling like an imposter. The instructor opened a drawer in the jumbled desk, drew out a clear, red lozenge and set it on the desk in front of him. He looked at it and looked at Zack. Zack looked back at him.

"Put it in under your tongue."

It tasted a little like a cough drop – enough that Zack thought he might be getting scammed.

"Oh, shit!" the instructor said, "I almost forgot the most important part." He reached a ham hock arm behind his chair and flipped a switch on a rack of electronic equipment. He nodded up and behind his head and pointed up with a finger. "The guys who gave me this shit want recordings." He grinned like an idiot.

"Hey, you want to see one of them?" he asked. I flipped another switch. The television monitor over his head hissed to life with electronic snow. He pushed the play button on an ancient VCR and a picture of a guy sitting where he was now replaced the snow.

"This guy's name is Vic. He was in here this afternoon. Not much different than you when he sat down, see?"

Zack saw. Vic was sitting back in the chair talking to someone, probably the instructor. The volume was too low to make out the conversation.

"Here. Let me speed it up." The instructor pushed another button and the picture got jerky. But something else started to happen too. The guy in the video started to swell. His pullover got tight. His arms chest and neck got thicker and thicker. His forearms sprouted thick hair. Hair slithered out the top of his open necked collar too. A beard started growing thickly on his face. "Fuck! This is so hot!" the instructor said. He openly massaged his swelling crotch as he watched.

Vic's shirt was stretched to the limit now. He looked like a serious competitive bodybuilder, and he wore a broad toothy grin. Suddenly his body shivered and shook and the shirt exploded in a puff of fabric dust.

"Did you see that? Never saw a guy burst out of a shirt like that, huh?"

Vic dug a hairy paw into the crotch of his pants and hauled out a stiff cock the size of a prize cucumber. Even over his billowing pecs, Vic could reach the end of it with his tongue. He lapped it like a dog once. Then in a jarring transition that almost made Zack dizzy, the instructor stopped the video.

"Enough of Vic, though. How are you feeling?"

"Good," Zack said. He took a deep breath. An air of confidence was sweeping over Zack as he sat in the chair opposite the man who had so impressed him a few minutes ago staring at his massively muscular body. He breathed deeply. Zack's whole body felt heavier, more solid, like he was pressing down into his chair.

Zack looked down at his forearm. The veins were distended, even though he hadn't worked them in a week. He gently rubbed them with the back of his fingers. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The touch of his own hand felt so good he thought he would swoon. Zack flexed his fingers and made a fist. His forearm swelled. He extended his arm and cupped his biceps. It was noticeably bigger. He curled his arm and watched it further inflate. Zack looked the instructor in the eyes, then looked back down at his chest. It was true that he had started to outgrow his large t-shirt before today, but now his pectorals were pushing out against his shirt like iron pillows, clearly defined and shaped like a middle weight bodybuilder's.

The instructor was as into Zack's changes as Zack. His meaty paw was gripping a thick log of manhood swelling along his leg underneath his long gym trunks and rubbing it against his hairy leg as his other hand fondled his firm, ridged and hairy belly. He settled back in the squeaky metal swivel chair like he was about to watch a movie.

The tightness around Zack's chest was now beyond the strength of stretch cotton. Zack took another deep breath and heard the seams under his arms begin to rip. Zack grinned like an idiot. He hadn't torn a shirt since he first started lifting years ago.

Although the legs of his workout shorts weren't yet stretched, his thighs were filling out also. His hamstrings, quads and inner thighs were wide and high and squirming with veins. He could see his calves widening into a thick heart shaped mass beneath his knees.

Zack felt his deltoids tear the arms of his t-shirt from the trunk. He cupped one with his hand and traced the deep striations between the clearly defined triple heads. The mass was more than he could get his fingers around, and his chest was starting to split his t- shirt down the front. Zack yanked the splitting fabric and tore it open to his waist, exposing gorilla pectoral muscle densely covered with a new growth of short brown hair, and beneath the round, ballooning chest muscles were eight cobblestones of abdominal muscle.

Zack's entire musculature was so thick it began to feel like a suit of living armor, expanding beyond the edge of what he was used to thinking of as himself, almost as hard as steel, but warm and heaving with strength. He flexed his biceps and admired the full and high peaks between his deltoids and his thickening forearms.

The instructor had his dick free of his shorts, greased with dribbling pre-cum and worked into an angry red tower of masculinity. He worked it lovingly, sliding both his hands down from the wide, wet head to his bouncing, hairy balls. If Zack had been able to take his eyes from his own body he would have been amazed at its length and its girth – maybe even a little frightened if he realized it foreshadowed his own future endowment.

Zack's fingers grazed his stiff, protruding, downward pointing nipples. An electric charge from the tip of his dry tongue to his groin jolted him and stirred his cock. It stretched and wound around his hip, filling his shorts like a Pepperidge Farms beef stick before it began to rise from his waist and strain the fabric of the shorts that were already stretched tight by his bulging thighs.

Zack pushed against the base and pressed the heel of his hand along its length. It shuddered and sprang upwards, tearing free of the waist band of his shorts and rising up his stomach to the base of his pecs. Zack swallowed hard and felt the sharp edge of the lozenge remains slip down his throat. He'd forgotten it was still in his mouth.

Zack stumbled to his feet, clumsy with his new girth, knocking over his small wooden chair. He flexed a crabshot and watched the horizontal striations pop out across his chest, and saw he deltoids separate into three distinct heads. He lifted his arms and did a double bi. His arms were now as big as his head. Zack had always gotten off on muscle on other guys. Being this close to gargantuan size, being able to see it up close and feel it, because it was his, and knowing it was his, made him mad with lust. He pulled his stiff dick down with both his hands and thrust his cock through his tight gripped fists, reveling in his sheer masculinity. In two or three thrusts he was over the edge, throwing syrupy streams of jism three feet from his dick, splattering the papers on the steelcase desk and dribbling it on the tile floor.

Far from being sated, breathless and flushed he looked up from his own body at stared at the instructor, whose gym pants were pushed down to his knees as he pummeled his cock and stared back at him.

He motioned with his open hand, presenting his cock. Zack shredded the gym shorts stretched tight like a girdle around his lower ass and thighs. He crawled up on the desk and put his lips on the instructor's massive cock. As he sucked it into his mouth, he slipped two of his fingers between his ass cheeks, to show he didn't want it in his mouth. He wanted it in his ass.

Zack flipped around on his back. The instructor stood and pushed the wheeled swivel chair back. He was a short man, but tall enough to get his dick level with Zack's pulsing ass. He gripped Zack's ankles and pushed deep inside.

The shock of getting plugged by the instructor's enormous cock made Zack's teeth clench. His whole body shivered and shook and visibly swelled again. The instructor roared and dumped his first load up Zack's ass.

The more they fucked the more Zack strained. The more he strained the more his muscles grew and hardened. "Christ," the instructor thought, as often as he'd tossled with a guy who'd gone through the change, he'd never started before the guy had finished. Fucking the guy as he grew was hotter than hell. And it seemed like getting fucked as he grew was making him grow even bigger than usual. This one was already as big as he was and still getting bigger with every breath.

The bigger they got, the more brutal their fucking. The papers and clutter on the desk slid out from under them and fell around the floor. Their groans and screams of ecstasy were loud enough to be heard outside the office on the gym floor, but were muffled by the grunts and screams of the lifters. Only the receptionist, a tightly muscled, petite man who lusted after the patrons and the instructor as long as he'd worked here knew what was going on. He watched man after man walk into that office, smaller than him when they entered, and as big as his boss when they left. But more importantly wet with sweat and scented by cum, grinning like any guy who'd just had a piece.

Pummeled by the instructor's fucking, Zack began to slid off the edge of the desk. He braced himself with his arms and lowered his shoulders to the floor. The instructor followed him over, draped Zack's knees over his shoulders and fucked him upside down, standing over him.

It would be one hell of a hot tape, this one. Maybe he'd make a copy before he handed it over.

Zack was pushing his ass up into the instructor now, fucking him with a frenzy that was building to his fifth orgasm. He was so muscular now he felt curiously light. His muscles were so strong they supported his tremendous weight with ease. He felt he could almost float off the floor. Using the instructors hips as a fulcrum and his abs, he raised his chest up, let his legs fall around the instructor's hips and wrapped his arms around his pyramid shaped traps.

The instructor bounced him up and down on his cock until the two of them came again. Sticky with cum and sweat, Zack settled himself down on the instructor's stiff poker, met him eye to eye, and gave him a cum tainted kiss.

After several minutes, the instructor let Zack's legs down to the floor. The two of them disengaged. Zack reached for a piece of tattered clothing. The instructor laughed. "I don't think you'll get back in any of that." He picked up the phone and called the receptionist. "Steve, bring back a pair of large pants and a triple xl tank."

As he entered the office, Steve couldn't take his eyes from Zack's naked body, especially his swollen twitching cock and his large oblong balls. The instructor exchanged glances with Zack. He knew the kid wanted what they had. He just wasn't ready to share it yet. The kid was just an employee after all, not a member. And membership had its privileges. •


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