Doodling Pays Off


By vlad

I had started sketching a few years ago, just as a hobby, starting with idle doodling in class. I wasn’t much of an artist, but I had images and visions that I wanted to bring to life in one way or another, and I figured through practice I could truly make something I was proud of. Drawing the human form certainly isn’t easy, but if you have the right passion and motivation for what you’re drawing, then things become significantly easier. And it just so happens that my biggest motivation was drawing the biggest musclestud I could imagine.

Drawing a massive football-playing monster wasn’t too hard of a decision for me to begin with…I saw enough of them around campus, and fantasized about them even more. Roughing it up on the field, football players embodied those perfect masculine qualities that I desired so much…they were huge, muscular and strong without being too self-centered or narcissistic, they had stunning muscularity without being freaky ripped models or bodybuilders. Their attitude was bad-ass and don’t-take-no-shit-from-nobody, which turned me on so much, and this was reflected in the tattoos, style and occasional cockiness that most people hated, but I adored.

It was then that I decided to draw something like my ideal football-playing meathead, a monster who had devoted himself to becoming the ultimate football badass, a muscular titan. It was thus that Jake came to my head…I started with his thick head and masculine face, with a heavy brow ridge that accuated his big, powerful head and face. His facial features were abbreviated, which made his head look even bigger and stronger, the perfect complement to the rest of his body, which I would draw into the perfect collection of muscular curves and bulges. Finishing his face, I drew a strong, square chin and jawline, and a thin beard that ran along his powerful jaw that accuated his manliness. He had a hard expression, one that said he wouldn’t take shit from anyone, but could be gentle and compassionate as well. The rest of the side-profile of his head was thick and big. He has a sleek, well-groomed Mohawk like a crown of his dominance, and the back of his neck folded and wrinkled with beefy muscle. His neck was well over 20” around.

Next came his shoulders and huge chest, which stuck out from his face like a barrel, rising and falling in heavy, deep breaths that sounded deep and masculine. His chest was like a massive cavern of power; his huge chest forced his upper back to become huge as well, and in the end he was almost as thick as he was wide at the chest. His shoulders stretched as wide as two normal people, and his delts and neck muscle merged into one solid mass of muscle. His chest tapered down to his stomach, which was a huge muscle gut. It stuck out from his body, though not quite as far out as his massive chest, and it had abs that protruded from the rest of the mass. It was rock hard, but he was wasn’t skinny…his belt size was still a 50 or so, but this was simply because he was so massive. He was about 6’6’’ or more, and his weight was probably around 360lbs of muscle.

The arms came next to draw. Connecting up with the huge shoulders, huge biceps dwarfed the rest of his ridiculously massive frame, a tattoo design he had made himself on his 25’’ right arm and flames burning up his forearms on the left arm. The forearms were thicker than most peoples’ biceps, and easily many times as strong; veins pumped in them when he flexed the bloated forearms, which had grown huge from the crazy daily training regimen that was part of his life. His biceps when flexed were bigger around than his head, and they were his favorite body part…he worked hard to make them bigger, thicker, rounder, stronger. His arms were perfected by the giant ham-fists and callused hands, made strong from lifting and running people over in football.

His legs were simply a huge platform for the devastatingly perfect upper body, and I drew two thick columns of beefy muscle to power Jake’s upper body. His dick was equally huge, as big around as a skinny person’s wrist, and his feet stomped with heavy authority where ever he roamed. His calves flexed and relaxed with each step, as did each rock-hard ass cheek.

In short, he was a thick, muscular vision of perfection. I made the final details of a tight shirt that barely covered the 60’’+ chest, and anointed him with a necklace that looped around his impossibly thick neck. Earrings and a chin stud finished the look of being of a badass. His nipples stuck out through the tight sleeveless shirt, hard and sensitive to the touch. His shorts tried their hardest to cover up the thighs almost as thick as his waist, but succeeded only so much.

I had finished the drawing of the side profile in pencil, and now I wanted to ink Jake with my nice art ink. However, upon looking, I found that all of my pens were dry, which was strange because some of them I had never used. It seems as though these pens had an expiration date or something…how cheap! Well, we’ll see what I can do…

I left my apartment and headed onto the street to find my usual art supply store, when on the way I found an old Chinese antique shop that I had seen before. It usually had the same cheap old crap typical of Chinese-American kung-fu stereotypes…but in the window I noticed a unique ink set that actually looked pretty cool, intriguing and esoteric. I asked the cashier about it, and he claimed it was an ancient ink set that they had smuggled over from China. Yeah, right, whatever. Well, either way, I asked for a demonstration and he obliged…sure enough, the ink was gorgeous, some of the finest quality I had ever seen…and it had been conveniently made into small cartridges for re-fillable pens like the ones I used to draw. I bought them for surprisingly little…I didn’t mind the cost mainly because the ink seemed so strong, like it would never fade. It had bold, vibrant colors that almost looked like the drawings would come alive.

Upon my return, I set to inking my perfect muscle creation, Jake. His neck folds rippled with power and his chest rose from his body like mountains. He seemed to be bursting, swollen with strength almost uncontrollable, and looked like he ate steel for breakfast with his muscle-guy attitude. The ink made his muscle pop out and his angular facial features even more masculine.

Finally, I wrote a brief description of Jake’s life and how he had gotten to his huge present state. In high school he had been the badass fullback at 6’2’’ and 230, and linebacker on the defensive side. He was all-state and extremely talented, and was scouted by Nebraska. In Nebraska, he thrived as one of the best linebackers on the team for his first three seasons, even starting as a freshman, and got a little bigger and learned the best techniques for training and diet. He worried enough about school to get by, but mainly concentrated on football and lifting. His plans for after college were to try the NFL Draft, but he wasn’t sure. He was gay, and got anybody he wanted…through his crazy strength and intimidating size and demeanor, no one fucked with him or his sexuality.

And then something happened to him between junior and senior year. He woke up one day during Spring Break and thought…this isn’t good enough. Looking at his already massive and ripped body, honed from years of training, he wanted more. His pecs looked deflated to him, his arms puny and weak. He knew he had the potential to be more…to have more strength and more size. He wanted suddenly to be on the line where the big boys grinded and muscled their way to victory. And so his journey began.

He started on a series of weight supplements and heavy lifting, and upped his diet to thousands of calories a day. Every day he worked out like a madman, and he could feel himself growing each week. And indeed, after a few weeks, he could see his body respond, and well. He gained about 5 pounds a week for 5 months, as his body hit a final, somewhat unexpected growth spurt. He grew 4 more inches up to 6’6’’, towering over his former equals and friends as he swelled in size. His stomach ballooned and swelled with rock-hard power, but not as much as his chest, which barreled out and became thicker and harder every day. His back, arms, shoulders, every part of him seemed to just absorb every calorie he ate and turn into powerful muscle. His face became harder, more angular, and meatier, and he decided to get his tattoos and piercings over the summer to accentuate his new look. He loved his new body, and wanted to get bigger and bigger. By the end of the summer he had gained 100lbs, and was now a behemoth 350lb defensive lineman who ate meals as much as three men could each and who could benchpress 700lbs several times in a row. His biceps were thicker than his head, and his stomach was surpassed only by his barrel chest. He turned 22 at the end of football season after setting every record a college lineman could set, and was primed to be selected in the top 5 of the NFL Draft. I wrote this all in the bold ink that I liked the more I used.

As I finished writing this, I felt the page rustle under my hands and start to feel warm. I looked under the page only to find my desk, and suddenly the page itself burned like fire. I dropped it quickly and watched as the page started to glow red, eminated from the black ink which was glowing with magic power. I couldn’t believe it…the ink was twisting and morphing, writhing and lifting off the page. I could almost hear far-off groaning, like a soul being squeezed. Then I saw something that made my jaw drop.

The ink cast its red light in the middle of the room, and something started materializing starting at about…. 6’6’’…

My God…Jake. It was Jake. He was materializing from the magic ink into my room!

Just as I had drawn him…the thick head, the angular face, the heaving barrel chest and thick back, the neck folds and sleek Mohawk, the bluging rock-solid musclegut, the 25’’ arms that swelled with power…Jake was yelling, but it still seemed far away, but his face was now animated, and each movement showed the jaw muscles in his face which tensed with each scream. It changed from a scream of agony to one of exaltation as his legs began to fill in, the red light shifting and glimmering as it moved from huge cock to bulging calves, and finally to the wide, heavy feet. The red light then suddenly disappeared, leaving nothing begin but a blank piece of paper, still warm to the touch.

Jake was naked except for his earrings and necklace, and he had dropped to his knee as soon as the light had faded. He breathed with heavy, grunting breaths which rumbled from his chest. He slowly stood, looking at his hands in wonder, making fists and grinning to himself as he examined his body. Massive. Powerful. Perfect. He then brought his gaze, piercing blue-grey eyes, to meet my own, and he sighed causing his chest to rise up and then fall. He started walking to me, the floor shaking, his pecs and gut jiggling with muscle, his arms swinging out to the sides, his legs rippling with every step. He came as close as he could to me, his chest and stomach bumping into my own. I was frozen with shock at what had just happened, and rock hard at seeing my ideal creation come to life…to LIFE! His breath was heavy and smelled like man, and he stunk of manly musk, like he has just finished playing a grueling football game. He looked down at me past his pecs, fixing me with those eyes.

He said, in a deep bass that rumbled my chest cavity, “Did you make me?” With my mouth still hanging agape, I nodded stupidly, looking up at Jake with wonder. And then he did something surprising.

He gave me the bigger, tightest bearhug I had ever felt, lifting off the ground like I weighed nothing and crushing me again his chest, which simultaneously rock-hard and fleshy and grippable. He then burst out with gratitude, thanking me for what I had done, in his rumbling, sexy voice. “Why did you make me, master? I’ll do anything for you!” he said while backing up. I could feel his sweat on my face after he moved away.

I told him, “I created you because you are my ideal man. You’re perfect…huge, powerful, massive, thick, manly. You’re my dream man, and I can’t believe you’re actually real. The only thing I want from you…I don’t even know where to start! It’s like a dream…and I guess the only way to prove that you’re not an illusion is something drastic. So…could you lift me up over your head…and then suck me off?” I said, motioning at my throbbing bulge.

“Anything for you sir,” he said grinning confidently, and he suddenly rushed towards me with a low grunt and lifted me with one hand over my head and pinned me to the ceiling. “Now you’ll see how a real muscle freak gets it on!” he roared out, as he tore my pants away with force. His tricep was flexed and huge as he held me against the ceiling and took my throbbing cock into his waiting mouth, swallowing me whole. With his other hand he flexed his ridiculously huge bicep and looked at me with raised eyebrows, those blue-grey eyes exuding sexiness and his jawbone beard framing his gorgeous face. His bicep swelled and throbbed, a huge melon of solid muscle power, his tattoo glistening with his sweat. I came and came into his waiting mouth, and he seemed to enjoy my seed…he gulped it down with muster, and made a satisfied “ahhh” sound as he finished me off. He then threw me onto his shoulders, where I rested comfortably for a moment.

“Was that fun?” he asked in teasing voice, which sounded even more powerful and commanding while resting on his shoulder like a sack of grain, my head upside-down sucking on his right tit. He then carried me into the bedroom and threw me onto the bed with no effort at all. Flexing his biceps, I could see them swell and grow, and the rest of his body followed suit. “Your cum…it makes me grow,” he said, flexing even more and swelling, growing a bit taller too. “I want more of it. I want to get bigger and stronger for the Draft. We can help each other out…I’m your dream come true, and you will help me fulfill my destiny as the greatest NFL player of all time.” With this he took a huge breath, and held it, his chest inflating with muscle and power, his gut expanding outwards with size. Finally he let his breath out, but the size remained like he was still expanded from the breath. I followed him into the bathroom and told him to step on the scale. He did, and it read 360 lbs.

“Ten pounds in one session?” he said while putting me into a friendly headlock and flexing lightly, the bicep rolling and pulsing with power. “I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship,” he rumbled happily and leaned over to kiss me. His mouth was strong and warm, the chin hair bristling against my face and rubbing against my bottom lip. He dominated my mouth, and tasted like salty sweat. I was in heaven. •

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