"Man, aren't you taking a terrible risk? You might have blown everything for me!" Unfortunate choice of words. "Here, drink this - it'll ground you in your workout and help to shoot that muscle juice where it belongs: into the muscles!"

It had a bitter-sweet taste like quinine or tonic water and it sank immediately into my balls; I felt the juice disperse into my body which felt electric with muscular excitement.

I said: "You know something that bothers me?" "What can that be, I wonder?" said my own personal Stanley Kowalski. "You don't call me anything and I don't know what to call you. Maybe this is good for anonymity, but I sense we're too close for that kind of formality now. My name is Matt. What can I call you?"

"All my clients call me Coach but I'd like you to call me Zak." Wow, this was going faster than I coud ever have dreamed. "Thanks, Zak, I will. Now, sir, what's next?"

"Guns!" and we went into the gym. There was the usual number of Saturday afternoon lifters around - no one particularly big. Zak stood me in front of a mirror and embarrassed me by standing beside me. "Do a double bicep with me!" he commanded. "No, don't look at yourself - look at me, look at my bis and imagine them as your own. FEEL them in yours."

I gazed intensely at the huge, split baseballs, tensing and swelling on his arms. He turned round gracefully, as in a contest and showed me the double bi from the rear. I transferred the intense excitement into my own bis as he flexed and strectched them so very close to me. Then he bent forward, urging me to do the same, and flexed his right bicep across that huge shelf of a chest. The veins rose and pulsed like serpents. "Feel them - feel them in you - glory in these huge biceps which YOU are stretching and flexing in the mirror." He turned and did a side tricep, those thick horseshoes standing proud, balancing the biceps. Then another double bi, showing how enormous his tris were as they hung underneath the arm.

"Think! Think! it's going to be your mind that builds your muscle, that takes these over - makes them into your own! I want you to do this with every exercise for every magnificent part of your body!" Now I knew why his clients were always so silent: it was the massive concentration needed to imagine the size of the muscle so that it grew.

Zak practically threw an 85 pound barbell at me. "Now, curl! Curl until I tell you to stop!" He stood in front of me flexing his bis while I curled for all I was worth. After about 15 reps he said it was too light and made me go straight on to a 100 lb. bar. I was intixicated as i imagined it was his biceps curling a heavier weight than I was used to - for 18 reps. He snatched the bar off me, chucked me a tablet and pushed me in the direction of the water-fountain. I'm so intoxicated as I'm telling you all this that I am leaving out all the constant instruction on form he gave me with every rep of every set. He never let up, and the more he gave me, the more intoxicated and determined, the stronger I became.

"Today - your trial day - we're just going to do the one exercise for bis - the best for bulking up anyway. We're going to do 6 sets, varying the weight and reps with each one. The pills I'm giving you contain a form of concentrated protein balanced with the carbs you need for energy. I want you to increase the dose by one tablet each set. Again from high reps low weight to low weigh high reps and back again, from one extreme to another, constantly challenging the different fibres muscles are made of. And he was "giving" me his own muscle as I worked mine. An amazing, exhilarating feeling.

Curls finally over we went back to the mirror, this time to examine my own muscle. I couldn;t believe how much they had pumped up in one work out. I got horny all over again, just looking at MY muscle. "You need to stretch AND flex every muscle group you use after each exercise - force that bood and protein into the muscle. Now, today you've exercised chest, tris, bis and shoulders, even though you've only worked, officially , in two muscle groups. So tomorrow it's going to be the torture of legs."

Back to the office where he filled me with various kinds of supplement, both liquid and solid. He also handed me a baffling chart of all the supplements I was to take at different times of the day and at different points in the workout. "After supper, I'm going to send you home. I want you to LEARN all this and get at least ten hours sleep. Back here at 10 am tomorrow morning. AND don't forget about warming up first!"

He pulled me into a muscular but tender embrace. "Do you do this with all your clients?" I asked. "Are you kidding?" he mocked, and shoved his tongue down my throat, pushed me away, grabbed my pecs - "Wow! they are getting bigger!" I flexed a bi under his nose. "Now don't get above yourself! You'll find, for the first couple of weeks, that all that pump will subside. Don't get disappointed tomorrow morning when you look in the mirror and find it half gone - you are NOT experiencing only temporary growth, but it takes a few days for the body to adjust to the workload, the supplements and the extra food. Get that over and I promise you FULL and permanent growth. IF you stick with it."

I grabbed him and said, seriously, "Zak, I'm sticking with it - and you!"

He took me next door to eat, monitoring how much protein and carbs I consumed. "As we proceed you're going to have to eat twice as much as you are used to. You may think this sounds revolting but I assure you that your muscles are going to scream out for food at least every three hours, all day and night long! Now - home!"

I guess I had an awful lot to think about that night: my world had been turned upside down in more ways than one. I couldn't resist flexing my chest and arms in the mirror before I leapt into bed. I was bigger!

I wanted to dream about Zak and his muscle - but I dreamed of nothing. Just as well, fors tomorrow promised to be real tough. •