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Jerry Johnson and the Muscle Factory
|When the two of them were recovered, physically if not emotionally, Woody read the fine print in the contest rules that came with one of the cases he had bought. It seemed that anyone younger than 21 who won the tour had to be escorted by a parent or legal guardian. Jerry was elated that he would be able to share some part of his prize with his godfather. Of course he had already "shared" the main part of his prize several times by then, but Jerry wanted to share more. He wanted to share his entire life with his godfather. Woody was still enthusiastic with their sex, but he was plainly bothered at its implications, and Jerry thought he seemed uneasy about the different in age between them. And maybe Woody didn't love him, Jerry thought, at least in the same way he loved Woody. He told Woody that if he was chosen as spokesmodel, Woody could quit his teaching job and maybe open a gym, but Woody told him that if he won all the money was going into a trust fund for his education. "Do you know how expensive four years at private college can be?" he asked rhetorically. A black stretch limousine arrived in front of their house on the day they were taken to the tour. The driver insisted on blindfolding the two of them before they got in. The blindfolds remained, through a long drive into the country, until they were in sight of a large, smoke-belching industrial complex that looked more like an oil refinery than a supplement factory. All of the men in the factory's parking lot and the men who passed through the main entrance, from the lowliest clerk to mid- level managers, were built like brick shithouses. "You suppose they get to sample the merchandise?" Jerry asked his godfather. "Seems that way," Woody said. Jerry and his godfather couldn't keep their eyes off them. Their heads spun around like dolls as they pointed out eye-popping stud after eye-popping stud to each other. Inside the lobby, just inside the main factory door, Jerry and his godfather met the other winners for the first time. Jerry wasn't sure if the other four winners really were assholes of if he was just predisposed to think that because one of them had taken what he thought was his godfather's rightful place as a winner. The professional bodybuilder, Wayne Ridgemont, had made the pro ranks a few years after Woody had retired. He recognized Woody and dissed him, calling him gramps and telling him he thought he had died already. Wayne had already been huge before his Explode! Transformation, but now he was positively gargantuan. The only thing that had gotten smaller was the bloated, distended pro bodybuilder waist. It had tightened back down to a rock hard eight pack. Perhaps one of the reasons Jerry thought Wayne was obnoxious was his well desired reputation as a womanizing straight man. Another of the winners, Randy, was an ex-gym rat, who obviously got off on how strong he had become since he found his magic bottle. As they waited in the lobby, he couldn't stop demonstrating his strength, presumably to himself, since no one else was paying attention, by lifting heavy furniture. Randy had probably been one of those men at the gym who always lifted way more weight than he could handle, in terrible form, just so he could brag about how much he could lift. As they all introduced themselves, Jerry met Javier, the first winner, the man from the news video. He didn't seem so bad at first, but the more the six of them talked, the more apparent his vanity of his new found looks became. Jerry caught him looking at himself in all the lobby mirrors, even in window reflections. The last of the five was the famous gay porn star, whose stage name was Rock Hard. He had been pretty muscular before, and his dick had been thick, if not incredibly long like some of his video partners, but now he was as big as Jerry in every way. He stared shamelessly at all the other men, especially Woody, which made Jerry especially jealous. After a few minutes a handsome man in a custom suit cut as large as a tent to accommodate his physique came out of the elevator bay and greeted them. His chiseled cheeks and chin were dark with a half-day's growth of dense dark beard. His turquoise eyes stunned Jerry whenever he glanced his way. "My name is Bill. I'm going to be your tour guide today." He shook their hands and told them how happy he was to welcome them to American Anabolix. "The five of you are about to embark on an incredible adventure. You're going to see things even our most trusted executives have never seen. I'm afraid that, because of this, I have to ask you all to sign a nondisclosure agreement at the reception desk before we continue." "This wasn't in the contest rules," Woody said. "No, but I'm sure you can understand our position. This formula is so potent, so far ahead of anything else on the market, we have to protect not only our patents, but frankly the public." "What are you talking about?" Wayne asked. "The secrets you will learn are not without danger. The tour itself could be perilous, which is why there will probably never be another tour, and why paragraph seven in the nondisclosure agreement specifically indemnifies use against damage claims that arise out of your experiences here today." Pages rustled as several of the winners flipped forward through the contract to read paragraph seven closely. "As you five have, the factory workers have benefited from the anabolic aspects of the formula, but there have been side effects from long-term exposure. The factory workers you will see are different from the ones you have seen in the parking lot and the lobby. Those are office workers. The factory help have all suffered some unusual side effects. They take many different forms and none of them is particularly unpleasant, but all of the workers have diminished intellect. It doesn't affect their ability to work or to enjoy of life's simplest pleasures, but it has made them unfit for anything except manual labor. Additionally, these side effects from intensive exposure are mildly contagious. All of you must avoid intimate contact with the factory workers, or you will become just as incapacitated and American Anabolix will have no choice by to keep you here at the factory as workers, for your own security as well as the safety of others in the outside world." For a moment the tour guide's speech put a pall over the festive atmosphere. None of them had expected anything this heavy when they claimed their prizes. A look of intense disgust crossed Wayne's face. "There ain't no way I'm getting close enough to a bunch of men to catch anything from them." His comment was enough to sidetrack the other winner's fears. Jerry's fears were superceded by his renewed disdain for Wayne. After everyone had signed the documents, Bill led them through double doors into a large empty warehouse with polished concrete floors. There was a tram waiting there. As they took their seats, the tour guide shrugged off his jacket and laid it over the back of his seat. His white cotton shirt strained at the edge of his shoulders and stretched seductively around the belly of his bicep. The third button down from his collar fought an endless battle to prevent his broad, round pectorals from tearing the shirt open. The tour guide switched on a microphone at the head of the car and started to talk again. It was a little like a trip to an amusement park. "Each of today's four tour stops will show you where one of the four major components in the American Anabolix Explode! Product is made. The actual processes that create the components are too complicated to explain to laymen, but I will tell you as much as I can about them." The tram pitched forward and double doors opened to allow it passage into the next room. Dozens of shirtless workers swarmed the floor of the factory room, carrying huge buckets of liquid and pouring it into vats heated vats. Steam rose from the boiling fluid and the air was thick with a sickly sweet smell. "This area formulates the components that increase muscle size. As you can see the workers in this area are larger than the ones you may have seen pass through the lobby, because they have been exposed to these chemicals the most. Some of you may notice the smell from the vats. Don't worry about it. You'd have to breath it for months before it caused any damage." As the tram got closer, Jerry swallowed hard. Every one of the workers in this area of the factory was twice as big as the men they had seen in the lobby. They wore huge oversized overalls without shirts. The straps were unfastened and the front placates hung down. It was plain why they wore no shirts. They were obviously too big for any clothing other than the overalls The sight of them even distracted the tour guide. Even if you weren't sexually attracted to men, you had to appreciate the sheer size and sweep of the muscle and respect the immense strength it gave them. The tram drove into the thick of the manufacturing activity and stopped. Several of the workers were inches from the edge of the tram. No one had ever carried as much muscle mass as these men, and the sharpness, density and hardness of the muscle were even more impressive up close. Jerry had seen morphed photos of muscle men before on the Internet, but these men surpassed even those. Perhaps it was just so hard to believe. Perhaps it was just curiosity. Whatever the reason, Javier reached his hand outside the tram and touched the shoulder of one of the workers. The worker looked at him. Their eyes locked. Javier moved his hand to the workers hugely distended pectoral muscle and fondled his nipple, as thick as a fingertip. The sexual energy between them surged and bound them. Javier could no longer control his limbs. He was over the tram rail and standing in front of the worker before the tour guide knew it. And their lips were locked in a soul-sucking kiss before he could react. Javier's dick swelled inside his pants. The worker's cock climbed slowly up the front of his overalls and stuck out over the loosely folded front. Javier bent and took the worker's cock into his mouth and sucked. "Shouldn't we try to get him back inside the tram?" Woody asked. "I'm afraid it's too late," the tour guide said. The worker put his heavy paw on Javier's head and pushed him further down. Before Javier had swallowed even half of it, the worker was grunting and firing hot cream into Javier's throat. The tour guide signaled for the driver to continue. Before they had driven five feet Javier's body had started to change. Every muscle of his already massive frame grew thicker and harder. The seams of his clothing tightened, stretched and tore open. His body expanded until it was indistinguishable from his newfound playmate. And then, in a final consummation of their perilous bond, the worker bent Javier in half and plunged his hard cock deep into Javier's guts. The sight was so erotically sensational that Jerry thought he might pitch himself over the tram rail and join them, but he was momentarily restrained by the firm hand of his guardian, Woody, on his shoulder. Ultimately he was saved by the tram's exit from the room. In the silence he collected himself and looked around at his godfather and fellow winners. Everyone seemed shaken to varying degrees, and in varying ways. The tour guide spoke to calm their nerves. "I'm so sorry, for Javier and for all of you. I'm sorry you had to see that. I really must caution you. No matter how tempting it might be to fraternize with the workers, you must avoid contact at all costs." "The queen had it coming, doc," Wayne quipped, but Jerry thought there was more than a little whistling-past-the-graveyard humor in the tremor of his voice. The tour guide ignored the comment. For a long while they traveled down the wide, dim hallway until finally they drove through another set of double doors and into another factory room. The tour guide cleared his voice and tried to continue. "In this next area we make the component that affects secondary sexual characteristics like strength and body hair. The chemicals in this room are a distillation of genetic material from gorillas." In this room the workers even looked like gorillas. The hair on their chests was so dense it was visible under their tight white t-shirts, and it carried over, uninterrupted, down their arms and their backs. Their faces looked like gorilla faces. Their teeth and lips protruded slightly and their nostrils were broad and flat. Though they were `only' the same muscular size as Jerry and the other winners, it was plain from their work activities that they were many, many times stronger than the other workers. There were no forklifts or conveyor belts in this section of the factory. The workers were strong enough to do even the heaviest lifting. They were like ants, hoisting pallets many times their size and weight. The entire tram was fascinated at the sight of them, but when one of the workers pulled so hard on a three inch thick steel lever that tilted a huge vat of boiling chemicals that he bent the level in two, Randy almost came in his pants. He surreptitiously brushed himself firmly through the material at his crotch to finish the job and closed his eyes as his thick tool squirted. No one else seemed to notice Randy. Their eyes were big as saucers as they watched the worker straighten the lever as easily as he would straighten a pipe cleaner. Ever since Randy had started lifting weights as a teenager, he'd been turned on by strength his own and the strength of the other lifters he watched at the gym. He had never had sex with men before, but the truth was that whenever he fucked a woman he fantasized about his overwhelming strength dominating the woman beneath him. The possibility of living the ultimate utmost aspect of his fantasy and becoming a man so strong he could dominate anyone, so strong he could bend steel as easily as tin foil, was irresistible. He leapt over the tram railing, ran to the worker and knelt in front of him. He wasn't even sure how to do what he needed to do, but Randy popped the buttons on the fly of his jeans. The tremendous dick unfolded and flowered in front of Randy's face from a thicket of dark fur. Randy's desire to consume it overcame all his heterosexual inhibitions and he took it eagerly into his mouth. The worker stopped his job and pulled Randy's head further down on him. In an instant he was filling and overfilling Randy's mouth with hot cum. As Randy's body absorbed the cum, hair began to sprout all over his body, so fast that it was like they were watching a time-release film. His jaw distended, his lips protruded and he looked back at the tram with empty eyes. But, seeing him transform into a creature more like himself, his newfound playmate knelt in front of him and returned the favor. Randy -- if what he had become could still be called Randy rolled his eyes back into his head and grunted enthusiastically. His frantic fingers gripped the edge of a steel machine at his side and squeezed so hard he left finger prints in it. The tram lurched forward. After they left the room, and Jerry's eyes returned to the front of the tram, he noticed the tour guide and the driver were talking in tense whispers. Then the tram stopped. "Folks, I hate to do this," the tour guide said. "But I have to cancel the remainder of the tour. It's obvious that we underestimated the temptations to you all. I can't continue this, even though you signed the disclaimers. It wouldn't be right." |
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