The Coach's Formula Parts 1-11

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Author's Note: I originally posted these stories on the Continuous Muscle Growth Stories threads. All future installments will be posted here instead.

Part One: What David Overheard.

Somewhere in a small town, near the beginning of the school year, on a Thursday…

In any other set of circumstances, with better physical advantages and perhaps with some luck, David Martin might have been a very ordinary sort of high school junior.

But he was a little small for his age. And underweight. He was only about five feet, four inches and weighed 120 pounds soaking wet, standing in his stocking feet. He looked at first glance like a sixth grader. He was not unpopular with his fellow classmates so much as invisible to them. And, let’s face it – David was also a bit bookish. Well, frankly, I’d have to admit that David was downright nerdy. You know the type: nice guy, but a bit clueless about navigating through the social morass of adolescence. And, not unnaturally, David was from time to time the object of good natured fun and ridicule from his fellow peers. Or, not to put too fine a point on it, more usually the members of the football, wrestling, baseball, soccer, hockey, lacrosse and track and field teams. He might have been similarly teased from other quarters of his society, except for the fact that no one in the student council, honor society, band, drama club or choir took any notice of him.

He was his father’s oldest son.

His father was a former United States Marine and champion powerlifter. He had two younger brothers, Ryan and Ted. His parents doted on their children. They were in all honesty very good parents and sincerely tried to make their children happy.

But they didn’t understand David. He was a total enigma to a family who had put all their stock in physical ability.

His father and mother had harbored a secret fear through the years when David was a young child. That fear had grown as he entered middle school and was now full fledged disappointment as David was nearing the end of high school and preparing for college. He was never going to be the strapping, athletic good natured sort of boy for which they had longed and dreamed. A son perhaps like his younger brother Ryan, who had started high school that year as a freshman. Already, Ryan had far outpaced his older brother physically and socially. He had landed a much coveted position on the varsity football team. Even David’s younger brother Ted, at the age of twelve, was more than a physical match for him.

David’s parents nursed their fear the same way that other parents nurse a fear that their child might be gay or an ax murder. When confronted with the inevitable, they berated themselves for their own failure as parents. It must have been their fault right? After all he came from such good stock. Through no conscious fault of their own they had begun to show greater favor to David’s more athletic, robust siblings.

It is fair to say that David wasn’t happy with his lot in life, even if he’d become somewhat resigned to it over the years. He would have given anything to be the sort of son his parents admired and hoped and wished for. The sort of young man who might find himself on the football team. One who might even be a star athlete.

Now at this point I would like to beg the reader’s indulgence to allow me to digress for a moment. You see, when considering David’s predicament, it was important not just to consider him, but his surroundings too. Frankly, there weren’t a whole lot of nice things that you could say about David’s home town. Or even his high school for that matter. It was like most other small towns and small town high schools scattered across the United States. Median to poor income in most households; a lot of local businesses and industry having closed in recent years.

But there was one thing of which its citizens were especially proud. They had, hands down, one of the best football teams in the state, if not the best, and some people even dared to dream further. No one was quite sure how this amazing turn of events had come to pass, but no one was scrutinizing the phenomenon too closely either. Everyone was just counting their lucky stars. It brought a ray of sunshine into their otherwise ordinary existences and gave them something to root for. And everybody loves a winner right?

Coach McCready had been the football coach at the high school for a long time. He was in his late thirties, and, until recently, approaching middle age with the same lackluster grace that a lot of aging ex-jocks show. Which is to say that he’d been gaining weight and going to seed for some time. The football team had been showing such dismal performance that there had been budget cutbacks. Things had gotten so bad that at one point McCready had taken a part time job at a local manufacturing and distribution facility that prepared sports drinks before it had suddenly closed up its operations a few years ago.

It was about six months later that the football team’s fortunes had unexpectedly started to increase. Which is to say that they actually won a game. And then, surprisingly, they kept on winning. And with their good fortune, McCready’s own fortunes seemed to improve. He shed his extra weight and got back into the same contest ready shape that he had shown years earlier as a professional football player and one time amateur bodybuilder. He even began to put on some serious muscle. Once again he was ripped to shreds and he’d surpassed even his best past physical conditioning. He now weighed in at an inspiring 300 pounds. His football players began to improve physically also. You see McCready had improved their weight training and conditioning programs and tried experimenting with new techniques. All of the players showed a marked increase in size, strength and stamina after playing just one season for McCready. Over the next two years new players had improved as established players continued to improve. Both he and his program were showered with money by a grateful school district. Football scholarships were being given out right and left.

With all that in mind, I can tell you that it was on a breezy fall day, a Thursday in fact, during the early part of the first semester of David Martin’s junior year that he heard something in the men’s bathroom he wasn’t supposed to hear. It was something that would ultimately change his life forever.

You see it was one of those occasions when he’d had to take a piss really badly. So he’d ducked into the closest john, which also happened to be the one closest to the extremely well equipped school weight room. Remembering that it was important to be as unassuming as possible when you tend to be the object of good natured fun and ridicule, he had ducked into a stall at the far end of the lavatory. The one furthest from the door. He’d hoped to get in and out quickly without running into anyone. Fortunately for him, he didn’t.

He had been about to exit the stall, when three guys entered the bathroom. He recognized one of the voices as his younger brother Ryan and the two others must have been some of his fellow jocks.

“This stuff tastes like shit,” said Ryan.

“I know dude,” said one of the other guys, “But it’s worth it.”

“What is it exactly?” asked Ryan.

“It’s some kind of supplement,” said the third voice.

“What’s in it?”

“Who cares dude, just chug it down,” said the second guy, “It’ll give you arms like these. I promise.”

“How often do I have to take it?” asked Ryan again.

“We all take it once a week before the big game on Friday nights,” came the reply.

“So why do I have to drink it every day this week?” Ryan continued pressing the other boy.

“All the new players get a can each day during the week of their first football game,” said the third guy, “For extra conditioning.”

David was not in a position to see any of them, but he could imagine what the second voice had shown his brother. Ryan had been working out with their father since he was twelve, but even as well developed as his arms were – and they were very well developed for a fourteen year old – they were nothing in comparison to the arms of most of the other players on the team. Most of those guys had rock solid arms in excess of eighteen inches.

David listened as his brother chugged the rest of the drink, and heard something hit the trash bin. The guys joked around for a couple more minutes, talked about how hot some of the cheerleaders were, and then left to go back to their workouts.

When David finally got up the nerve to exit the stall, he walked over to the trash bin and found a can inside. It looked a lot like a soda can. It had a pop top lid. But it was plain silvery colored metal with no markings or wrapper on it whatsoever. He picked it up and saw that there was some chocolate colored liquid still inside. For all intents and purposes it reminded David of one of those a meal replacement shakes that dieters drank. It even had that sort of fake, chocolate smell that some of those drinks have.

That’s when it occurred to David that the contents of this can might hold the key to helping him out.

What he lacked in brawn, he more than made up for in brains. He figured that if Coach McCready was dispensing this stuff at school, then he must be keeping a supply of it in the school for convenience. At least so one would assume. What was clear was that Thursday afternoon was not the place to go and look for it.

That opportunity came the following day.

Part Two: What David Did.

The next day…

Now you can imagine how you’d react to hearing that there was some kind of supplement out there that might help you become a little more like the football team – especially that particular football team. Which was about as big and muscular a football team as you could hope to find. You’d naturally want to find out more about it.

And that’s what David did.

David’s parents insisted that he come with the family on Friday night to support his brother and watch the team play. He’d never been to a football game before. And, lying to his parents at the start of the game, said he wanted to go to the bathroom. His parents let him go figuring he wasn’t into it. And David knew that once the game started his parents would be totally engrossed watching Ryan and the team at least until half time.

The stadium was next to the school. The players had just taken the field, so David slipped into the locker room unobserved and headed for the back where the Coach’s office was: past the gym showers, near the entrance to the gym itself. He’d really picked a good time because the office was completely unlocked, amazingly unguarded, and no one was around. Well, honestly, there wasn’t much in there that one would ordinarily want to take.

After ten minutes of looking, and a couple close calls as some of the staff and an assistant coach came into the locker room a couple of times, David found boxes marked Niodex in a closet in the Coach’s office. The top box was open and remaining inside were six neatly stacked, silvery cans. Cans just like the one Ryan had been drinking from yesterday. There were three unopened boxes stacked there too. Another box was empty. From the looks of it, David assumed that twenty-four cans would fit in a full box. He picked up a can and feeling reckless, popped it open and took a swig.

He nearly puked.

It did taste rather awful. He was about to throw it away, but thought the better of it. Taking the same advice his brother took, he chugged it down. Almost gagging, but managing to get it all down.

He was instantly disappointed that he didn’t feel the least bit different. He didn’t explode out of his shirt by putting on two hundred pounds or growing two feet taller. Nothing happened at all. But the logical side of his brain kicked in at that moment, and he reminded himself that if instant muscle growth were to occur, it would have raised some important eyebrows. Still, it must do something. Intrigued by the idea, David went into the deserted weight room nearby. He stared at himself in the mirror. He knew he was a weakling, but he knew that it must enhance the players in some way or the Coach wouldn’t give it to the guys until just before the game. So he picked up a dumbbell – a twenty pounder – and started doing reps with it. Surprisingly, pleasantly so, David found that he could curl the weight with some effort. Twenty times in fact. This was a dramatic improvement, because he knew before he drank the can he wouldn’t have been able to pick it up, let alone curl it. So this formula was obviously a serious performance enhancer. No wonder the team was able to put up such an aggressive game. It wasn’t merely their builds, but their stamina.

One thing was certain; this was not the time or place in which to be experimenting. He needed to get out of there.

It would be half-time soon. The players would come back into the locker room.

David threw his empty can into the trash basket where he saw that there were other similar cans, no doubt the player’s weekly rations. If he was going to get anywhere with this though, he knew he was going to need more cans for himself. He grabbed one of the unopened boxes and took off with it. His father drove a quad cab pick up truck. He put the box in the back, under a tarp that his dad kept. He could retrieve it and stash it in his room later that night after they got home.

With luck Coach McCready would be so busy he wouldn’t notice the extra can in the trash or the missing box. At least not until it was too late to matter.

When he slipped back into his seat in the stadium later, his parents and Ted didn’t say anything to him. His dad noted with approval though that David really seemed to enjoy the second half of the game. Even cheering on the team and Ryan a couple times with something that might pass for enthusiasm. Nobody really seemed to pay any attention to how much bigger Ryan was looking, nobody except David.

David couldn’t wait to get home that night.

Part Three: The Formula.

Later that night…

Internet searches had repeatedly failed to turn up anything about a company called Niodex, Inc. David was feeling new levels of frustration. But he also felt intensely awake. He had to hand it to that stuff; whatever was in the can was giving him one hell of a rush.

He turned the paper over again in his hand and read it for the hundredth time that evening. He had found it inside the box when he’d opened it. It had a nutrition label printed on it that read:

Nutrition Facts
Serving Size 1 can
Servings Per Container 1

Amount Per Serving
Calories 18,000 Calories from Fat 0

There was a lot of other information listed as well. Like the amount of vitamins in a serving, all of which were in the percentage of thousands over their daily recommended values. But what really grabbed David’s attention were the amounts of calories contained in one can. That explained what fueled the growth that the team was experiencing. And by feeding it to them in small doses, one can a week for the most part, the growth occurred gradually over time. 18,000 calories was like five pounds of muscle. There was also a note that the formula had not been approved yet for human consumption. Well if the football team had been taking it for three years, and no doubt so was the Coach considering his physique, there obviously weren’t any short term side effects that were noticeable.

And there was also clearly a strength booster in the formula as David had discovered earlier. Necessary, no doubt, as increased strength allows for maximum muscle conditioning. Which it suddenly occurred to David was the key. Ryan was bigger this week than last week. David had studied him at the game and after they got home. He was looking huge and very well developed for his age. If he’d drank five cans, and worked out, he’d put on around twenty-five pounds total. He’d be around 185 or 190 by the time he was finished adding growth from this round. The more he thought about it the more he knew it was true. Ryan was probably still adding pounds every day as the aftereffects of the can worked through his system. Ryan now looked like a junior or senior, ripped with new muscle.

David was so excited. The only problem was where would he work out? That was the key. Otherwise all he was consuming would effectively be empty calories. He’d have high energy for a short burst and no gain to show for it. Or in a worse case scenario, he would store the excess calories in his body as fat. He had no intention of going from a skinny geek to a fat slob.

His dad had a lot of workout equipment in the basement that he’d used to train first Ryan and now Ted. Once upon a time he’d even tried to teach David a couple times, but to no avail. Ryan was now big enough and strong enough to have moved on to the high school gym, where more weight was available, and it was as well equipped as most commercial gyms, if not more so. David knew he could go down to the basement tonight. Their big house was literally so huge that no one would hear the clanging of the equipment and David still remembered enough of his lessons with his dad to know how to use the stuff properly.

Well it was do or die trying, David thought to himself. It was two o’clock in the morning. There were twenty-four unopened cans. He wasn’t sure how many he should start with though.

Ryan had had five cans for the week. So you could obviously super-concentrate the stuff in your system. But would it max out if you took too many at one time? Only one way to find out. David decided to start with nine cans. That would be ten total, including the one from earlier in the evening. Approximately 50 pounds of muscular potential if his figures were correct. That would bring with it both good and bad, and probably some explaining, but it would make his father happy and put him on a level with his brother and his peers. David didn’t see past that to any other consequences.

He popped the first lid and started chugging. Oddly, although the taste was vile at first, he sort of grew to like it by the fifth can. By the tenth he felt like he couldn’t stop, and so he kept on drinking. It was five minutes later that he realized he’d exhausted the whole case. Twenty-four cans total. Oops. That would probably have a noticeable effect, he thought. Maybe even a dangerous one.

Nothing to be done for it now.

He went down to the basement. He found the weights down there just as Ted had left them from his workout earlier that Friday morning. Damn the kid was going to be strong. There was 90 pounds still racked on the bench and little doubt that Ted had left it there.

David lay down on the bench and did some experimental tests with the bar. First lifting it, and then finding that he could control the weight, bringing it down to his chest and raising it back up in the air. He realized that it was the first time he’d ever done a complete bench press before. Amazing. Just like his dad and brothers. He did some more and even though it made his chest burn like hell, at the same time he could feel himself crying out for more.

Before David knew it, he was pumping out rep after rep, the weight becoming less and less a burden. He knew he was getting stronger. Soon he reached a point when the weight didn’t matter anymore, his chest was burning and his t-shirt was stretched across newly growing muscles.

David then forced himself through the most grueling workout of his young life, more than he had ever imagined possible for himself. But he was so wired; he couldn’t have gone to sleep. His dad had some good equipment down there. He was able to hit a lot of the angles of his chest with inclines and declines, flies and dips. His shirt, meant for a preadolescent, became tighter and tighter. Continuing to stretch outward. David was using more and more of the available plates as he seemed to be growing stronger with each new rep. Lifting heavier and heavier. His chest was on fire, and every time he went to feel it he noticed his hands seemed harder, thicker and fuller than before. Like he was experiencing a growth spurt. After an hour, David couldn’t even put his hand under his shirt to feel the muscle.

Part of him wanted to take off his shirt, so that he could look in one of the mirrors on the wall at his new body. His chest was now so pumped the bottom of his shirt had ridden halfway up his stomach. Staring at his reflection, it was almost laughable how overdeveloped his upper body was becoming compared with the rest of him. No, he thought, he wanted to burst through his shirt.

He wanted the fantasy.

David was feeling invincible, like he could lift anything, no matter how heavy. Yet his shirt still hadn’t ripped. He could feel the formula working in his body even then, supercharging him. Within a few seconds, he could hear tiny, little popping sounds. They started slowly, one after another. But then they began to speed up and David heard multiple rips. That’s when he saw real growth. His chest expanded before his eyes as the muscles recovered from the grueling workout he’d just given himself. Now, at last, they were rebuilding themselves: stronger, thicker and denser than before. It hurt and the pain was excruciating, but it was the pain of a really good burn. David watched in wonder and admiration.

“Fuck yeah!” he said loudly, unaware that he’d never used profanity before.

The threads of the t-shirt tore and snapped, stretched thin, no longer able to contain his developing chest. Within a minute, the shirt was now just a half-shirt covering the chest muscles. Then all of a sudden the shirt burst all at once down the center, forming a tear that exposed young, raw, engorged muscle underneath. David couldn’t believe it. His chest was thick and full, with a valley running between his pecs.

David reached a hand through the newly formed rip and began to massage the muscle with his calloused hand. It felt so fucking good. David responded by flexing his left pec, then his right, then both at once – like he’d seen the football players do so many times. The flexing was surprisingly easy and felt so fucking good.

But there was so much left to be done. David started his back workout then. So many different movements he remembered his father explaining to him, he could barely remember what he was doing. He just knew that this new muscle kept demanding more weight and more reps. He was sweating at the exertion, soaking the remained of his damaged t-shirt. At the end of his back workout, he was breathing heavily.

Soon after he finished, he began to hear something, an odd groaning sound. His sweat-soaked shirt was being pulled apart by his growing back. It wasn’t as easy to see the growth on his back through the mirror, but he could definitely feel it. He felt his arms being pushed out and upwards, his shoulder blades moving farther apart to accommodate his newfound size. Soon his back had grown so wide and thick it destroyed the back of his shirt, ripping it in two places.

He turned to see his back in the mirror, but he could only see half of it. His lats flared out, covered in muscle. His lower back was a column of thick muscle. But stubbornly his shirt still hung on to his new upper body. His arms were still relatively undeveloped as was his neck. The collar and sleeves were intact, but the rest of the shirt now hung loosely over his large chest and immense back.

David could actually feel his body’s new size, soaking up the air, fighting for space in the basement.

He knew what he needed to do next. Blasting neck, shoulders, abs and arms, set after heavy set, egging himself on to be huge.

He drank in the sight of his entire body, his over-the-top muscles. His face, once sallow, was filling in. He looked more like Ryan. Actually, he looked better than Ryan as his extra cans of formula were put to good use coursing through his blood vessels and cells.

David lacked the sheer size of a monstrous physique. But his muscles were incredibly ripped. He looked like a well developed amateur teenage bodybuilder, full of young muscle. He was turned on by the sight of his own chest. He flexed it playfully, watching the muscles ripple obediently at his command.

Then he could feel it. The growth in his shoulders and arms began simultaneously. He watched as his arms swelled then stopped, then swelled again, in time to his heartbeat. As they thickened with muscle and the veins underneath pulsed, bulging above the surface of his skin. Then came the ripping sounds again and David momentarily felt a choking sensation. The collar of his t-shirt was now being stretched out by his growing neck, traps and shoulders. The combination was too much for the shirt, which gave way in several places. Its seams ripping to reveal bulging, rippling muscle underneath. He felt a great deal of new found self confidence as his shoulders widened proudly, his neck forming a solid column of corded muscle, and his traps tugged at his back, rising and merging into his neck.

The sleeves of the shirt exploded. No longer holding onto his body, falling uselessly to the floor. As if eager to grow now that the restriction was gone, his arms grew in double-time, the triceps forming a vicious horseshoe mass that hung from his upper arms, the biceps elongating and rearranging into double peaks of muscle, the forearms writhing and cording into separate muscles.

His stomach cramped and, looking down, he saw his smooth abdomen begin to form cobblestones of muscle. The smoothness melted away and six beautiful, thick mounds rose up, forming ridges between them.

David pulled his arms up into a double biceps pose and looked at each in turn. He could barely contain himself. Mixed feelings of satisfaction, absolute disbelief, and total arrogance filled him. He had real muscles now.

Just one thing left to do. His arms were so thick, he flexed them, relishing the feeling of how much muscle bunched up when he flexed. He could feel the power as the muscles fought for space on his arms. But his legs needed some work. He pulled up his shorts. He had no leg development at all.

So he ran through lifts and squats, all with the heaviest weights he could find. Sweating profusely, he had been exerting himself so much he wondered why he wasn’t tired yet. After the leg workout, he had to sit down on the bench to rest. He waited impatiently for the growth, massaging his legs as he felt the warmth flow through his leg muscles. He felt as if he were pressing a ton, his thighs contracted violently and his legs began to twitch uncontrollably. His thighs grew and separated into groups of muscle, each proudly bulging out from his hips and knee joints. His calves tightened, and then exploded with growth, the muscle easily seen from the front of his leg. He playfully flexed each muscle in turn, marveling at their display of power.

His entire life has changed and there was no going back. He had the body of a stud. The body equal to and, he knew, surpassing his younger brother’s.

“Hold on a second, what’s going on here?” asked Ted, “Who are you?”

The sound of his brother’s voice pulled David back to reality. He glanced at the basement window and saw the light of morning pouring in. He must have been working out for hours.

“David is that you?”

Part Four: Ryan Finds Out.

Saturday, the next morning…

Ted had just come down to the basement for his morning workout. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The basement was a mess and there was a strange guy standing in the middle of it.

No wait a second, it was his brother David. David? He was bigger than David. This guy was a like a teenage bodybuilder. He obviously worked out. Hell he was as bigger than Ryan.

But there could be no doubt that was David’s face. Or at least it was a healthier, fuller, handsomer version of David’s face.

“Good morning, little bro,” David said, again like David, but deeper.

It was like the dweeb had finally hit puberty or something. About time, Ted thought.

“What happened to you?” Ted asked him.

“Growth spurt, I guess,” said David, “Dude, I feel great.”

Dude? Did David just say dude? Ted was feeling a little lost right then. He’d heard about the twilight zone, and figured this was it.

“Wait till mom and dad see you,” said Ted. Then he realized something, “Oh shit, mom and dad went to Uncle Joe’s for the weekend.”

“They did?” asked David, as if in a dream, “They’re gone?”

“Yeah, they left just fifteen minutes ago. They won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

“Well I’m going to go take a shower, and then I’m going to the school gym, I think I’ve outgrown this one.”

And Ted moved aside as his much bigger older brother pushed past him to go upstairs. He checked out the bench and saw that every heavy plate in the basement was stacked on it. Amazing.

He needed to tell Ryan.

Ryan meanwhile was still asleep feeling a pleasant sense of exhaustion from last night. Yesterday, during third period Karly Jones had given him a blowjob. She was a sophomore. He was feeling very content and was hoping that encounter would lead to more exciting ones in the future. He was sort of half awake and half in a dream of fucking Karly when his bedroom door burst open and Ted can in shouting.

“Ryan, dude, come quick,” he said urgently.

“What is it you little shit?” Ryan growled irritably, “I told you not to come in here before noon.”

“It’s David.”

Ryan sat bolt upright. Fuck, his fragile big brother must have hurt himself or something. His dad had put the fear of god in him and told him he needed to look after his brother. He also remembered his parents had left for the weekend.

“He’s in the bathroom.”

Ted was obviously in a totally agitated state. What the fuck was going on? He got out bed wearing only his boxers and rushed to the bathroom. The door was ajar and the shower was running. Had David slipped in the shower?

Just then the shower turned off and the shower door opened. A man stepped out. Ryan instantly felt on guard. This guy looked like he could play college football, and Ryan measured him up. Then Ryan realized that he was looking not at some intruder, but at his older brother. Or some facsimile of him at any rate.

“David, what the hell happened?”

“It’s me Ry, in the flesh, all 195 pounds actually,” said David with a devil’s grin, spread from ear to ear. “What do you think?”

David swept his arms up into a double biceps pose and Ryan involuntarily took a deep breath and a step back. It was a very impressive sight and a much more dazzling display of masculinity than any he would have been able to put on with his own arms. When he’d put his arms up the towel he’d been holding around his waist fell and it revealed that David had grown very much in the night, all over.

“But how the hell did you get so big?”

“You can find out later if you want. I intend to go and get bigger. I don’t think my growth spurt is done yet actually. First I need to borrow some of your clothes though, mine are too small.”

David could feel the formula still fueling him. He had so much more energy to burn. He grabbed the stunned Ryan by the arms, picked him up and moved him physically out of the way, so that he could go get dressed.

Ryan just stood there, watching his brother walk by him.

He may be a dumb jock, Ryan realized that, but he knew that there had to be some way his brother got so big, so fast. He went into David’s room and found twenty-four empty cans that looked suspiciously familiar lying scattered on the bedroom floor. Suddenly it clicked. Ryan knew when he’d drank those cans this week that he’d put on some serious muscle in a short period of time. He’d weighed himself this week and found that he’d gained about twenty pounds of muscle and lost excess fat too. He didn’t think the cans were a steroid because the more he’d worked out over the week; the growth had begun to slow. Obviously drinking a lot of them could make you really big.

Then he heard the truck engine rev up. Shit, David had taken the spare keys. Where was he going? It didn’t take Ryan too long to realize that it had to be the gym.

He put on some jeans and a shirt, got on his bike and started peddling as fast as his muscular young thighs would take him. He didn’t realize that even as he was peddling, he was adding about five pounds of muscle to them.

When he finally made it to the school, the door to the locker rooms was open. Forcibly opened by the look of it. He went inside and found David near Coach McCready’s office. Many empty cans were scattered around him on the floor. It looked like he was making his way through a box of the formula.

Ryan realized he was missing his chance. He ran over to his brother shouting “No!” But it was too late for all that. For all the good it did him, his now much bigger, older brother easily lifted Ryan up by the shirt collar with one hand and used the other to throw back more of the cans.

Part Five: David Gets Bigger.

About twenty-five minutes later…

“David” said Ryan pleadingly, “Please let me down.”

He was feeling completely dominated and couldn’t understand how his brother had managed to manhandle him in this fashion. Even considering both of their sudden growth spurts that week, David was still only about 10 pounds heavier than Ryan. But even as Ryan watched his brother was getting bigger. The arm that held Ryan in the air grew more ripped. The biceps inflating ever so slightly with each passing second, adding a fraction of an inch every few minutes.

David may have been multitalented, and he may have had an impressively improved physique, but he was still only two handed. He finished the last can from the box that he was drinking and crushed it into a tight little ball like a piece of paper. Now that he’d finished twenty-four cans from that box and the five spare remaining cans, he needed to get into the remaining box to get at the last twenty-four. He set Ryan down and ripped open the final box.

As Ryan reached for a can, David grabbed his forearm in his mighty grip, causing Ryan to freeze as an expression of intense pain crossed his face.

“No, bro, sorry,” he said gruffly, “Those are for me.”

David released Ryan to begin drinking the next box. All Ryan could do was stand back and watch his brother drink can after can. It was the first time that he’d actually gotten a good look at his brother since this morning in the shower. David was bigger than he’d been earlier. He was filling out. Looking him in the eye, Ryan could tell that he was at least six feet by now, if not surpassing that. He had the thick neck of a college wrestler. It tapered in sculpted shoulders and down into thick, corded arms. As David held the can up to his mouth to drink, his biceps curled into massive round cannonballs. His forearms rippled with power. His chest was thick, like two mountainous slabs of meat. The shirt he had put on stretched painfully over his pecs, strained to the limit. And Ryan knew the shirt, one of his own in fact, was an extra large.

After a few minutes, David had finished with the second box. Crumpled cans were scattered everywhere across the floor. He’d just consumed two boxes, the five remaining from yesterday and the twenty-five he’d had last night. 78 in total. He felt like an unstoppable machine.

“Oh, fuck yeah!” he shouted, flexing his muscles into a dazzling most muscular display.

All of David’s most extreme fantasies were coming true in one wonderful weekend. He felt the formula, super concentrated, pulse through his veins.

David’s body swayed from side to side as his ever growing thighs worked to get around each other, he went into the weight room where he could use the most sophisticated equipment available to him.

“Go ahead and put some weight on this thing,” he told Ryan.

Ryan, chastened, moved over to the weight bench where David had just lain down. He put four 45 pound plates on the bar, but David after hoisting it and doing an experimental rep told him, “It too light, little bro.”

Ryan obediently approached the bar. He glanced at the 180 pounds that he’d placed there, stacked equally on either side of the bar and went to grab more.

“More!” cried out David in a deep voice.

Ryan kept grabbing all the plates he could find and piled them on, at David’s continued commands, not understanding his older brother’s newfound strength. Finally David seemed satisfied with the last of the new weights in place. He hefted the bar. He felt the increased strength course through his improved muscles. Even though it was a huge weight he barely felt it at first. Pumping out reps as he pressed over 450 pounds above his mountainous chest.

His enormous pecs bunched up into huge masses as he benched, surprising even him with their growing size. With every rep they became even larger as blood rushed to the muscles and caused them to expand under the influence of the formula. His chest swelled beyond belief. He slammed out ten, twenty, thirty reps with this weight without feeling a thing, but by the time he reached fifty, strong as he was – his muscles were burning like the sun. With a shout he finished his set and dropped the bar onto the rack with a large crash.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” said Ryan in awe.

The present size of David’s arms and legs which were now bigger even than before. And Ryan was stupefied. David stood up, getting off the bench and went behind the bar, still racked with weight. Even though it was a huge weight he barely felt it as he pulled it up to his waist and then curled it up to his shelf-like chest. His big cannonball biceps ballooned as he curled.

“Fuck”, said Ryan, blown away by the gigantic size of David’s arms.

With a satisfied grin David brought both his arms up and flexed them forcing Ryan to look with wonder from one bicep to the other.

“You like these big fuckers?” David asked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” said Ryan without meaning to.

“Fuck you bro, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

As Ryan watched in wonder he saw David growing, his muscles expanding slowly, but steadily before his eyes to make him even more massive than he had been before. David’s torso expanded in all directions, growing wider as his shoulders and lats added inch after inch of muscle, and grew thicker as his already huge pecs expanded outwards while with the slabs of muscle on his upper back grew the opposite direction. His biceps and triceps strained against his skin, looking flexed even though his arms were hanging down to his sides to the extent his increasing lats would allow. His immense thighs were thickening, adding more and more beef, forcing him to change his stance so as to make room for the increased mass of his legs. His calves were growing also, their diamond heads getting wider and thicker with each second. Only his waist seemed unchanged though his abdominal muscles were becoming ever more packed, cut and defined. All over, his body seemed to be expanding outwards, adding pound after pound of muscle mass.

“Fuck yeah!” David yelled, doing a most muscular pose.

It was too much and the tightly stretched shirt shredded into a thousand little pieces as he flexed body part after body part. He was bigger by far than any bodybuilder he had seen in any magazine. With a laugh he pulled down the front of his tightly stretched shorts, letting his even larger dick flop out. It was only half hard but must have been at least eight inches long already. It was an effort to get it and his king sized balls stuffed back into his trunks but he managed, though with their increased size, not to mention his larger ass also stretching the suit, he wasn’t sure things were going to hold.

“Damn,” said David, “That’s the second shirt today. I owe you a new one bro.”

David was absolutely massive. Ryan was completed speechless. But they were both taken aback when they heard a voice say, “Very impressive Mr. Martin, very impressive indeed.”

Ryan and David looked to see Coach McCready silhouetted in the doorway.

Coach McCready, his chest bare, was looking huge. David sized him up. In all of his euphoric muscular glory, he’d forgotten how he’d first been introduced to the formula in the first place.

The Coach was a stunning man. He had blond hair, blue eyes and an amazingly handsome face. But David barely took note of these, his attention was captured by the massive physique the Coach was sporting. It easily surpassed his own. The Coach’s neck was a thick column of muscle, wider than his head, which was attached to shoulders incredibly broad and thick. His chest was beyond huge, each pec massive, striated and so developed that both nipples pointed straight down to the ground. His arms were simply unimaginable, with biceps pumped and ready. His lats were so wide they pressed against his striated triceps and forced his arms to hang away from his body. But his waist cut in so much he appeared almost top heavy. The rows of abdominal muscles that lined his stomach were hard and deep and formed ten lines of ridges across his midsection. His mammoth quads and jutting calves almost finished the picture but the bulge at his crotch was the finale to the huge man.

“You found my formula I see,” said Coach McCready.

Part Six: The Coach Gets Involved.

“Very impressive indeed,” intoned the Coach again. He gave David an appraising glance from top to bottom.

David sensed a challenge.

“Yeah, and look what it’s done for me,” he informed the Coach, bringing his arms up and flexing them for his audience.

It was truly an impressive sight. The biceps swelled growing every bigger until it looked like David had two bowling balls balancing on his arms.

The Coach stepped out of the doorway and walked closer to David.

“I’ve been drinking this formula for a long time son; your arms ain’t nothing next to these big fuckers. Nobody’s got arms like these.”

As spectacular as David was, the Coach was just in another league altogether. David took a step back in awe. He knew he had limits. The physique before him was just overpowering. As for Ryan, he creamed his shorts right then and there. All thoughts of Karly Jones totally forgotten. He’d never seen the Coach in all his jacked up glory before.

“C’mon,” said the Coach to David, “I want to see what you’ve got.”

David followed the Coach as he headed to the empty gym and a lone wrestling matt lying on the floor. Sweat started rolling down his back in nervous anticipation. He could feel his power that had grown in him since the early hours of the morning. He strutted like a peacock for the Coach’s benefit, flared his super-wide lats. His deltoids were monstrous and his pecs had swollen up like two over-inflated balloons, which he rolled and flexed as he stretched himself out. David had never wrestled before, but was convinced that he was going to beat the McCready with no problem.

The Coach just ignored David’s cocky display. He displayed his own muscularity by clenching his abs, popping out the granite-hard muscle with razor sharpness. His stomach looked like it could stop a tank. He was massive, thick and solid. A total alpha male.

The Coach stripped off his pants, so that he was down to a pair of square-cut shorts. Each leg looked like it had a number of steel cords entwined within it, writhing as he moved. He walked over to the mat, his muscles rolling and rippling. He motioned with his fingers for David to come over.

“First round,” he said.

David came over. The Coach got down on his hands and knees. David kneeled down next to him, and looped one arm under the Coach’s massive lat as he’d seen the wrestlers do. David inhaled the Coach’s musky odor. It was manly and thick and made him feel extraordinarily sexy. Hormones of puberty that David had never experienced began to bubble to the surface as for the first time in his life he was aware of another human being in a sexual way. His boner would have been able to drive nails into wood. Ryan too was overcome with the thick smell of male hormones and dank sweat.

If the Coach noticed David’s excitement, he didn’t pay it any mind. He waited, allowing David’s physical aggression to build. When he felt him tight around him, he yelled, “Go!”

David began to pull. He pulled and pulled, straining to get the Coach up and over. Yet despite all of David’s enormous upper body size and strength, the Coach didn’t even budge. David’s face reddened with the strain, but the older man didn’t move.

David began to look a little panicked. Old self doubts and insecurity set in.

The Coach had give David long enough. He twisted his left shoulder downward, hard, and flipped David over him like a pillow. David landed on his back, and the Coach got on top of him, pinning his chest with his heavy forearm. David struggled hard, but couldn’t move. Ryan counted to three. Then the Coach stood up and helped David to his feet. It had taken McCready under five seconds to pin the younger man.

“Second round,” said the Coach. This time, he stayed standing, and with two fingers of each hand, motioned for David to come at him.

“Bring your best,” he said.

The two men circled each other briefly, and then the Coach moved in, locking up shoulder to shoulder with David. The two big men pushed against the other’s power, grunting and shoving, their powerful legs working hard. The mat was getting slippery from the sweat dripping off of them. The Coach was definitely in charge, however, powering David first to one side of the mat, then the other, using his superior strength to sap David’s power. The second David’s legs faltered, McCready flipped him down to the floor, pinning him again. Ryan again counted out three.

The Coach stood up. “Third round!” he yelled.

He was towering over David, who was breathing hard. Having maxed out his cans, he was powerful, but still outmatched. He looked up at the Coach and seemed to be thinking about what to do next. The Coach decided for him.

“Get up!” he ordered.

David struggled to his feet. The Coach grabbed him, spun him around and locked his head into a full nelson, his powerful arms tight. David tried pushing back, but the Coach leaned into him and held him there firmly. He tightened his hold even more, and wrenched David back and up off the ground, knocking the wind out of him with the force. McCready lowered him down, and then wrenched him up again. Then he did it again. David’s arms began to flop around weakly. The Coach applied more pressure against David’s neck, pushing his head down and making it harder for him to breathe. Then he began to shake him back and forth like a doll.

Just when it looked like David was going to pass out, McCready tossed him down to the mat, face down. The Coach got onto David’s back, grabbed his arm and pulled it behind him and bent David’ forearm up, knee weighing David down.

“You ready for the training of your life?” he patiently asked.

David mumbled into the matt.

“I didn’t hear you,” said the Coach again.

“Yes!” hollered David.

“Good,” said the Coach satisfied.

He released David and he got up, reddened and finally exhausted.

“Very good,” said McCready, “You’re much further along than I was after I first drank that much formula. You’ll make an excellent addition to my program.”

Ryan was able to finally compare the two men. David looked very good. His recent bout with the Coach had given his muscles a more polished look and added some size too.

“How did you know about me?” asked David, suddenly full of questions.

“I have a camera monitoring my office. It didn’t take a lot to figure out what had happened. Actually, I’ve been hoping to try an experiment like this. You’ve come far. You must have good genetics, despite not hitting puberty before turning eighteen.”

The Coach offered his hand to David, who grasped it firmly. Despite not being as strong as the Coach, he was powerful enough that he wasn’t totally crushed by the bigger man’s grip either.

“As for you,” said the Coach turning to Ryan, “I guess we’re going to have to step up your training program too.”

Part Seven: David The Jock.

The following Friday…

That week was the strangest one that had ever been seen at the high school. Certainly the strangest in the Martin household.

The football team had found a new fullback. Huge, buff and a special favorite of the Coach. Ryan had for the first time found an older brother to idolize. Ted had found a new paragon of muscular development to worship. And their parents had found a miracle.

The Coach had a long talk with Mr. Martin. No one knows what he said, but the Martins had been left feeling confident and impressed that the Coach’s experimental training with David these past months had been such a success. Although, in the back of their minds, they thought it was odd that it worked so fast. But they didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The game that Friday was an easy win for the team. And David had his first chance to go to a party.

Most of the school couldn’t recollect seeing him before, so most people just assumed that Ryan’s brother had been going to a different school or something. Perhaps it was one of those events like mass hysteria, but everyone seemed willing to overlook the fact of the transformation. No one had ever really cared about the small boy who they’d never paid any attention to anyways.

And David was enjoying the attention.

He especially enjoyed the jealousy of many of the rank and file jocks, like Brandon Small. Brandon’s last name may have been Small, but the junior was but. Up until last weekend he’d been the biggest player at the school. He’d been faithfully taking the formula for over three years, being in one of the first groups that Coach McCready had started on it. He wasn’t happy that he had been supplanted by some kid he’d never seen before.

The party was typical for the school. Basically all the kids found a home or hang out spot where they could all get together after the game, drink lots of beer and get laid.

David had been hanging out with Ryan, enjoying the scene. He was still having trouble thinking like a jock, but his hormones had been going overtime. A lot of attention had come with his new body. Despite his increased confidence, he still had the sexual maturity of a ten year old. He rebuffed the advances of women, more out of ignorance than shyness. One woman though that wasn’t going to be dissuaded, was Karly Jones.

That night they were at Greg Anderson’s house. Greg was the school’s bon vivant. While not being on the team, he was everyone’s best friend. Son of the richest man in town, his parent’s were frequently away and that left their big house available for parties.

David had wandered away from the sweaty crowd and had gone out to the laundry room to get his head together. His mind was swimming with thoughts and an excess of beer and he was having trouble processing. He also had a growing ache in his crotch that he didn’t understand. He’d had his first boner of consequence while wrestling with the Coach. The Coach was insanely attractive, but so were the women who pressed up against him all the time. He was confused and too embarrassed to ask Ryan, who had taken a strange idealistic shine to him this week. The Coach had Ryan on a one can a day regimen and David on five can’s a day. The formula clearly didn’t work as effectively the more you consumed, but for the first time David could out lift his brother by about three times. His muscles were becoming denser and more powerful. His strength was increasing exponentially. He enjoyed the challenges the Coach provided. Frankly, his private lessons with McCready were the only true challenge available to him.

He was contemplating all this when his thoughts were interrupted by a female voice.

“Hi, David.”

Karly Jones wasted no time in snuggling up to him and rubbing her fingers over his massive round shoulders, then moving down to his pecs, and massaging them.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

David was completely innocent.

“Um…aren’t you going out with my brother?”

“A blowjob doesn’t mean we’re going out.”

David shuddered as her hand slipped down to his cock. This was so wrong, but it felt so right. And the formula had increased his sex drive immensely. He’d jacked off morning and night each day this week.

Karly quickly stripped off everything she had on, which wasn’t much to begin with. And when she took off her skirt, it was clear she had no panties on underneath.

David re-thought his position as he laid eyes on the first naked woman in his life. He backed up against the washing machine.

Karly giggled and David saw a glint in her eye. He felt himself getting hornier and hornier, his cock hardening in his jeans. It was big and powerful. Their bodies were caked in sweat. David couldn’t keep his hands off of her, nor she him.

And as David got more and more turned on, he began to grow somewhat, like he had a good pump. He could feel the jeans beginning to tighten around his waist, and his calves pushed against the hems at the bottom. The shirt he wore was stretching more and more as his muscles bulked up. It was a polo and the first of its kind he’d ever worn, a present purchased by his parents as part of his new wardrobe.

David couldn’t even moan, his tongue was already down Karly’s throat. He let go of her writhing body for a moment and clawed at his belt until the jeans were free and fell to the floor. Had Karly looked down she would’ve seen his legs growing more powerful and more muscular, but she had her eyes clamped shut, caught up in her own private fantasy. She grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, saving him the trouble, and then pulled down his briefs as well.

David had sprouted two inches and had packed on another twenty pounds of muscle, all in the space of fifteen minutes. Their moans were getting louder, especially David’s. His pecs pushed out farther and his arms thickened. He was tired of waiting.

Acting purely on instinct, he pulled her up and positioned her moist opening over his massive, engorged cock. Then he pushed her down and penetrated her.

“Oh, God!” she moaned.

David was so huge inside her that it hurt at first. She tried to take the head of his steel rod into her. It didn’t happen quickly or easily, but finally the whole head was inside her, and David let out a deep moan. Soon she was half way down his shaft when David grabbed onto her and pulled her the rest of the way down.

Karly could feel her whole body being opened up to accept David. She relaxed and began to moan deeply. David touched her in erogenous places she didn’t even know existed. He started grunting as he increased his pace. He was getting close and she was too. David screamed out in pleasure as his cock brought Karly to the same blissful place. Both slumped with pleasant exhaustion.

Neither unfortunately noticed Ryan watching them from the hallway.

Part Eight: Jealousy Rears Its Ugly Head.

Two weeks later, a Saturday, around noon…

Two weeks had passed from the party and Ryan was feeling hurt. He was feeling confused. He was feeling mad. And most importantly he was feeling jealous.

His brother was plugging his girl. It just wasn’t cool.

As if the first week after David had drank the formula hadn’t been enough of a rollercoaster on its own. You have to keep in mind that although Ryan had a build that a college jock might envy, he still had the emotional maturity of a high school student. He was used to being top dog among his brothers. He had been supplanted not only by a new bigger, older brother, but also as the new star of the football team.

Not that Ryan had envied his brother. He was happy for him. Or he had been until that night at the party. It wasn’t like the Coach had neglected him. He’d been given a can a day and he had grown rapidly over the last three weeks. He’d checked the scales that morning and seen the needle tip to 213 pounds. His arms had exploded with new size and power. It had been intoxicating to experience.

But that all seemed second rate. He was plagued with a vision of watching Karly Jones cream on his brother’s cock.

It made Ryan so angry he couldn’t speak sometimes.

But he also knew that there wasn’t much he could do except get even. He just wasn’t sure how to go about that. After all, David was weighing in at around 270 pounds. His growth had slowed after about 230 pounds. But his muscle mass had continued to get denser. David had let Ryan feel his arms and it was like touching warm steel. And David’s lifts had increased as well. In fact, David had outstripped all the equipment in the school gym and now trained directly with the Coach. There was no amount of weight available that David couldn’t lift anymore.

Ryan knew he couldn’t compete with that. Not unless he took extra cans too. David had consumed like 70 or more in one sitting. Plus this week alone he’d had 25 that Ryan knew of. Where was he supposed to get that? The Coach kept everything hidden under lock and key now. He also didn’t bring in more than a week’s supply at a time to the school.

But David wasn’t the only on in the Martin family blessed with some brains. Ryan’s just worked a little slower is all. It occurred him after a couple days that the Coach must keep the cans somewhere offsite. And if you found that location, you found the Holy Grail, which was something Ryan remembered reading about in English class once. Ryan didn’t know what it was, but he knew the expression was appropriate to the situation.

Gotta play it cool. Gotta keep it quiet.

Ryan let another week pass. He felt his own muscles getting stronger every day. His lifts increased and he’d attracted the notice of Brandon Small, who thought it was very, very odd that Ryan was growing so fast. Brandon knew something was definitely up. Ryan was around 230 pounds. Which meant that he was nearly Brandon’s size at least 250 pounds. Previously it was only the Coach himself who had been bigger. And it had taken Brandon three years to achieve his massive physique. He was going to be damned if one little punk freshman was going to outdo him. A junior like David Martin showing up out of nowhere was bad enough.

But no one really paid any attention to Brandon anymore.

Ryan decided to take a page out of his mother’s book. She always said patience was a virtue. And Ryan was rewarded when he discovered where the Coach kept his cans.

One day he’d followed McCready back to his house after one Saturday practice. He knew had the Coach under careful observation for days. He wasn’t loading anything from his house or garage. All the guys knew that Coach kept a cabin out in the woods for hunting. Ryan decided that it would be a good place. Very out of the way and not likely to attract any attention. On his bike it took a while, but his powerful legs were up to the challenge and he sped along the back road paths like a Tour de France cyclist.

It took him some time to locate the cabin. Some consultation with folks who, like the Coach, knew the back hills. After several trips he found it. The tire marks in the mud were clearly those of the Coach’s big truck. After some exploration, it turned out that the place wasn’t even locked. Close inspection revealed there wasn’t a lot there of value anyway. And the lock was old, old. But there were no cans there.

Ryan was about to give up and go home when he spied a trail leading into the woods. About 200 feet back from the cabin and down a little hill was a storage shed. It was pretty good size and the door was bolted shut. Its windows were positioned too high to look into.

“Hey, dude, what ya doing?” asked a voice from behind him.

Ryan spun around in a complete panic.

Brandon stood smugly behind him with his arms crossed.

“Shit,” said Ryan, “You scared the fuck out of me.”

“Yeah,” said Brandon, “Well that ain’t hard.”

Brandon looked big and pumped. Like he’d come from a good workout.

“You’re looking for the cans ain’t you?” asked Brandon.

“How’d you know?” asked Ryan.

“You ain’t the only one who can put two and two together asshole. I know there’s something going on. And your brother didn’t just show up out of nowhere. He’s was that little geek right? There’s no way he could go from geek to muscle freak in two weeks without some help. It’s gotta be those cans man.”

“Yeah,” said Ryan, “Well I figure they gotta be in there.”

He motioned with his thumb back at the shed.

“Let’s find out,” said Brandon.

“But it’s locked,” replied Ryan.

“Like you think a little padlock is going to stop this big fucker,” said Brandon. His right arm flexed powerfully, putting to shame many a lesser man. “I’ve been taking these cans for three years dude.”

He grabbed hold of the lock and twisted. The lock gave a metal whine as its mechanism fell apart against Brandon’s superior force. It, along with the parts attached to the door, came off in Brandon’s hand. With his left hand he forcibly pushed open the door, taking it off it hinges.

“Holy shit,” he said stepping inside.

The place was huge. It looked big from the outside, but inside it was full of the familiar boxes stamped with Niodex, Inc. There were hundreds of stacked boxes.

“Wow,” said Ryan, echoing the other man’s sentiment.

“And to think that lousy fucking bastard has been rationing me out those cans for three years at 10 cans a year. I coulda been huge!”

They both stood there for a second and then Brandon walked over and tore open a box. The magic liquid was inside. He took a can, popped the lid, and gulped it down.

“Man,” he said, “That’s good.” After a pause, he looked at Ryan, “So how many of these has your brother taken?”

“I don’t know,” said Ryan, “At least 125. That’s about five boxes.”

“Well I better double that then,” said Brandon thoughtfully. He picked up as many as he could comfortably carry: six boxes, a weight that would have given anyone else a hernia, and started walking back to his vehicle. Ryan was in awe. He was also irritated that Brandon had followed him. However, he grabbed four boxes and followed Brandon back to his truck. Better to get him out of there as quickly as possible.

“Hey, dude,” he said, after Ryan brought him four more boxes, “Thanks for the help, but I guess you’re shit out of luck. McCready’s gonna find out sooner or later someone found his stash. And you got no way to take any home with you.”

He laughed as he packed up the boxes, got in the truck and headed out for his home, eager to try out his new prize.

Ryan realized Brandon was right about one thing at least. Ryan only had a bike and no way to take any cans with him to be drunk at a later date. Guess he had only one choice then.

He headed back to the shed to start drinking.

Part Nine: Brandon Gets Ripped.

Later that night, the same Saturday, around 7:00pm

It would be convenient to say that Brandon Small had had a wicked childhood. That he’d been unloved or abused by his parents. Perhaps he’d been ignored or left too much to his own devices. Maybe he came from a broken home? Maybe he was a poor little rich kid? Or came from the wrong side of the tracks? Yes, all of those things would be tempting for me to give you as an explanation for his behavior. Something to whitewash his reputation, painted in broad strokes. Something to make you sympathize with him.

But none of that would be accurate.

The truth was Brandon had grown up in a loving, church going, red blooded American home. It was simply his nature to be mean. A weakness of character if you will.

When he drove away from the McCready’s hideout that day, he’d caught a glimpse of Ryan looking back at him in the rearview mirror, but he’d just revved the engine and left Ryan in the trail of his dust. He was tired of the Martin’s and their glory.

Brandon was excited by muscle. When he’d been in elementary school and junior high he’d seen what bullies could do. They had power. His older brother had been a bully and jock. He’d also gotten laid all the time. So when they offered a weight training program in seventh grade, Brandon had jumped at the chance. He’d even made some respectable gains as his young physique filled out fueled by his hard work and puberty. When he’d made the varsity football squad as a freshman, he’d been ecstatic. The Coach had become his idol. The man he measured himself against.

But youthful idealism can give way when you find your dreams have become more difficult to obtain.

It had all seemed wonderful when the Coach had started them off on his regimen three years ago. Brandon had leapt ahead of his teammates. Part of it had been a combination of his good genetics and the rest of it was McCready’s cans. Brandon had always pushed himself further and harder than anyone. A year ago he realized that he wasn’t advancing fast enough to suit his own ambition. He wanted the Coach’s size and power. The Coach refused his request for additional supplements and training. So Brandon turned to the only muscle pit in three counties: a gym one town over. It had no name, but it had a lot of iron in it. And it was no place for the weak or timid. The monsters that moved steel in that place would beat the shit out of you just for having the temerity to walk in the door.

Brandon had suffered his share of shit from the patrons, and even a good beating too, but when he came back again and again the muscle monsters grudgingly accepted his presence and with the slowness of a New England winter turning into spring, they started giving him tips and, finally, roids. That had been three months ago and Brandon was finally feeling their true effects. Coupled with the cans he’d gained 20 pounds fast. But his muscle had become bloated as he sacrificed mass for definition. For that he wasn’t happy.

Now Ryan had offered him just the ticket. Those cans had allowed him to build natural, healthy looking muscle.

He admired himself in the mirror. Soon he’d be even bigger, that he knew. He wondered why he’d never thought of this before now.

He still had 5 boxes full of 120 cans. But by now he’d drank 120 or half his original amount. He knew he should be about where David Martin was by now. But he also knew that drinking the cans alone would be insufficient. His muscles were crying out for him to move iron. He needed it like a fix.

He also suspected rightly that the cans would give him an incredible burst of strength. Their energy coursed through his veins, charging his cells. He flexed his arm and watched it rise, a rock solid 20 inches at last measure. He moved to a front lat spread and watched as his back and chest spread out. The muscle might be covered in a layer of fat, but it was big and solid. His legs were thick and hard, calves diamond shaped and defined. Finally, he did a side chest.

Oh, fuck ya, he thought to himself. He was gonna be the next big thing around. Forget David fucking Martin.

The gym was nearly empty that night and it was late evening. The only other guy who was there was a man Brandon didn’t know well, but had admired from afar and built a grudging respect for. The guy appeared to be in his early 30s or late 20s and he was in the gym every night. Brandon suspected that he came here after finishing up his blue collar job for the day. Probably down at the steel mill with Brandon’s dad. He was corded and strong, but by no means the biggest of the gym’s clientele. In fact, he wasn’t even as big as Brandon, but his hard gainer attitude had won a place amongst the men. He wanted what they all wanted: to become a bigger, badder mother fucker. Brandon was in fact more than a little drawn to him for some reason.

Brandon had racked some serious weight onto the bench and he was preparing to test his strength limit.

Just as he lay back a face appeared above him.

“Don’t you think you should have a spot dude?” asked the blue collar guy, “That’s a lot of weight.”

“Thanks, dude,” replied Brandon, all cocky grin, “But this is just to warm up.”

The guy appeared taken aback, knowing full well that Brandon must be joking. There was 450 pounds on the bar. 90 pounds more than Brandon’s personal best.

But Brandon wasn’t waiting and he lifted the weight experimentally at first, then with increasing confidence when he realized that it felt as light as 20 pounds. He easily did a set of 30.

When he racked the weight and got up to flex his chest, he noticed the blue collar guy was still standing there a looking a little dazed and confused.

“What’s your name anyways,” he asked the guy.

“M-M-Mark,” the guy stammered back, then with more force, “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Yeah,” said Brandon, “That’s just the beginning really. I’m Brandon by the way,” he continued, offering Mark his hand.

Mark just nodded and shook the proffered hand with a rather stupid expression on his handsome face.

“Why don’t you help me put some real weight on there and I will show you what I’m really capable of. This is just too light, man.”

Mark obeyed as Brandon did another side chest pose in the mirror. He could see that the layer of fat over his pecs was disappearing and there was more definition to the muscle. His biceps also appeared to have grown. Brandon spent a lot of time looking at himself in the mirror and knew every change in the contours of his body.

Mark had found some 100 pound plates for Brandon and they loaded them on the bar. Brandon grabbed some more just in case, but he knew he wouldn’t have any trouble. There was 800 pounds on the bar, which Brandon knew would break the world record for “raw” bench presses. Brandon suspected that Mark knew that too.

When the plates were secure on the bar, Brandon got beneath.

“If you can’t lift that,” Mark said, “I won’t be able to help.”

“No worries dude,” replied Brandon, looking supremely confident.

Brandon felt the increased strength course through his muscles. The earlier pump causing the copious amounts of formula to course through his veins. Even though it was a huge weight he barely felt it at first. He pumping out reps as he pressed the weight over his chest. The muscle fibers tore and reconstructed themselves at an alarming rate. The curve of his chest grew more and more mountainous, while at the same time the fibers grew denser.

Brandon’s enormous cannonball biceps bunched up into huge masses as he benched, surprising even him. With every rep they became even larger. His chest swelled beyond belief. He slammed out 5, 10, 15 reps with this weight without feeling a thing, but by the time he reached 20, strong as he was – his muscles were on fire. With a shout, he finished his set and dropped the bar onto the rack with a large crash.

“Mother of God!” said Mark in awe.

Brandon got up and flexed his chest into a most muscular. His thickness and size blew him away and he knew that his chest was now easily the size of McCready’s. Satisfied with the performance of his new body, Brandon brought both his arms up and flexed them into an awesome double biceps pose forcing Mark to look from one to the other in complete wonder. Mark licked his lips unconsciously.

Brandon watched Mark lick his lips as he watched his titanic guns flexing. The idea that this guy was getting turned on by him made his dick become iron in his workout shorts. He was aware that it might indeed rip through the fabric. Brandon wasn’t a fag by any means, but he needed to cum and he’d developed a powerful attraction to Mark.

“What do you think?” growled Brandon, “Do you like these big fuckers?”

“Oh, yeah,” breathed Mark slowly.

Mark was now clearly open mouthed with desire, and there was an obvious bulge in his own tight shorts. Brandon’s pecs were so huge and pumped they seemed to stick straight out from his torso; the space between them was a valley cavernous enough to hide a man’s hand in up to the wrist.

Unable to wait anymore, Brandon pushed down his shorts and pulled out his mighty manhood. The huge muscles in his arms flexed as he worked on his dick, pulling it and stroking it until it wasn’t merely hard, it was like a steel rod, a jackhammer: ready to pulverize concrete or iron. He stood before Mark, almost naked, except for the tightly stretched shorts around his thighs.

“You love my body don’t you?”

Mark could only nod in his agreement.

“Get down and worship me then,” he commanded.

Brandon could smell the scent of hot sweat coming from his body, mingling with the scent of sex. He knew he was a real man, he knew he was more man than David Martin and more than the Coach even. He looked down and saw that his cock had swelled beyond its original 5 inches. It looked thicker too as blood coursed through it.

With his hand he held the mighty steel rod and stuck it straight out. Mark licked his lips as they both watched the steady stream of clear pre-cum juice leak out of the throbbing cock head and drip off the end like a leaky faucet, while some ran down the underside.

Brandon let me go for a moment as he ripped off his shorts, finally standing totally exposed in a magnificent and glorious display of his full naked glory. With one hand behind his head, his arm and shoulder muscles flexing in sharp relief as he posed for Mark’s benefit. His other hand was down at his huge cock slowly, playfully, stroking it. Mark watched the hand run down all the way down to the thick base by the big balls. After squeezing them carefully in his mighty fist, Brandon then ever so slowly pulled his fist upwards along the thick, hot shaft of manhood.

Mark thought it would take him forever to get to the top. Brandon’s cock was, Mark though, like the rest of this man, perfect in shape and detail. Brandon’s hips began to pump the air somewhat as he continued jerking himself off. Every part of his essence enjoyed watching Mark drool over his body. His pre-cum was by now rubbed all over his cock, making it wet and shiny in the phosphorescent gym light.

“I’m gonna give you what you’ve been waiting for. Get down on your knees, and open wide!”

Mark obeyed the command. He crawled on his knees, mouth open wide and ready to be impaled. As he reached out with his pair of hands to guide the cock into his eager mouth, something deep in Brandon stirred. He felt Mark’s tongue begin to work his cock.

“Lick me. Yeah that’s it man, run your fucking tongue over my cock. Better get ready for just how big this thing is. It had swelled even further to seven inches.

Brandon grunted in pleasure as Mark’s tongue did its job, savoring the taste of the sweet salty juice. He was lapping the fat mushroom cap of his dick, bathing his cock with tongue as it poked and prodded Mark’s mouth. The cock stuffed into Mark’s mouth, was slowly being pushed in and out. Brandon was totally in control as he held Mark’s head, the smaller man knowing the strength of Brandon’s hands was so powerful he couldn’t free himself. He was completely at Brandon’s mercy.

Mark ran his hands up and over the back of Brandon’s legs, as far as he could reach, feeling the large thick muscles, up the iron thighs, to finally rest on his perfectly muscled ass. It was the classic jock’s ass, but magnified. Built of steel, smooth and round and pure muscle. Mark could feel the glutes clench and unclench as this man used his mighty hips to power drive his dick into Mark’s mouth.

But then the beast in Brandon let loose and he began the serious face fucking. He pushed with his hips, forcing more and more of his cock into Mark’s mouth, past his tongue and down his throat. First he pushed in about an inch, and then pulled almost all the way out – so that just his humongous head was in Mark’s mouth. Slowly though he would push it all back in, going deeper and deeper each time. As he got deeper and deeper his speed started to pick up. Mark felt like he was going to pass out. His own dick was leaking like a faucet, soiling his clothes. But he had to ignore it, he had no other choice.

Mark was sucking with his whole being, sparing no effort.

“I’m gonna cum,” roared Brandon, “Keep sucking my dick. SUCK … IT … HARDER … SUCK IT!”

Brandon felt like a virgin, like he’d never cum before in his life. With one final thrust he let loose his load in Mark’s mouth, holding Mark’s face tightly pressed against to his crotch.

Finally, Brandon pulled away with a slurping noise.

“It’s time to finish my workout,” Brandon said.

Part Ten: Tabula Rosa I.

Earlier that day, the same Saturday, around 9:00am

David woke up for the first time in his life having no clue whatsoever as to where he was or what he had done the night before. He did realize that he was in bed and that a blonde girl was lying next to him. He was aware, rather comfortably in fact, of how close his soft cock was to her pussy. And he had the vaguest of feelings that it’d been there before.

He paused for a moment to reflect on his life. He’d changed over the last three weeks. More than just physically. His growing dick was evidence of that. Before this had started he’d been small and weak. A few weeks ago he’d been as long hard as Ted was soft. And Ted wasn’t even in high school yet. But now he was long and thick, and David had even had occasion to measure it at nine long inches. With the improved body and new wave of self confidence, David also was aware of a new way of thinking. He was still a top rate student, smart as a whip, but there was something new in his attitude and his view of the world. It was more than having the body, it was a sense of understanding his body and feeling entitled to it and the opportunities it brought him.

Finding those cans had been no accident. It had been destiny.

David spooned against his new bunkmate and felt his long weapon force its way gently between her closed thighs. He knew what he wanted and where he had to go to get at it. And she gave in, waking pleasantly.

“Oh, baby,” she moaned, long and slow, still half asleep.

David responded to her, wanting her sex very badly. Needing to feel complete. Her silky smooth pussy enveloped him again. David reached over her to massage her breast, as he moved slowly in and out of her, picking up momentum as his dick found its home and drove its way there with emphasis.

“Let me roll over,” she said after a few minutes, “I want to see your face.”

When she turned, David was a little surprised and pleased to see that it was Georgia Manning. The head cheerleader. She only dated the very elite males at the school and, as far as even he’d heard, she’d never given it up to anyone. Not even the school’s quarterback.

In seconds he was back inside her, harder than ever now. He’d climbed on top of her for some good old-fashioned missionary fucking. David reflected on how her pussy gripped his meat like a milking machine, and he began to really fuck her hard. She just moaned. But what else could she do? She had his cock fucking her.

Her tits bounced back and forth to the rhythm of his thrusts. Georgia gasped as an orgasm washed over her. David felt pretty good with himself. His dick continued to slide in and out of her, his balls bounced off her ass, a pleasant slapping noise accompanying the whole thing. He opened his eyes, looking down on her. She was so beautiful. He maintained eye contact as he slowly slid all the way out of her. Then he slid back into her, just as slowly, and she arched slightly, let out a quiet moan. David continued sliding in and out of her that way, truly making love to her.

He could feel his cock growing as it always did when he had sex or even jacked off. Slowly but surely he new he was adding length and girth. His juices were churning inside his balls. He felt his muscle growing too, ever so surely in steady increments. It was like the sex was feeding him as his cock was feeding her hungry pussy. David bent down to her mouth to kiss her, and they kissed passionately, tongues exploring as he continued to thrust softly into her.

Then David did something he’d only seen done, until that point, in the pornos Chet had shown him after a football party last weekend. He pulled out of Georgia, rolled over onto his back, and held his dick straight up in the air as an invitation.

She scrambled on top of him, reached underneath her and positioned him for access. Georgia pressed her swollen lips against his dick and slowly engulfed him once again. He loved her heat. In no time, she held him completely inside her. David reached up and grabbed onto her wonderful breasts. She continued to hold his dick inside her as he kissed her tits. She began to subtly raise and drop her ass on his lap, pulling his dick a couple inches out of her before sucking him back inside her.

Inevitably she began to slide her pussy up more of his cock, amazed with his length. Looking down David could see the pink lips of her pussy being pulled outward with each of the long strokes, before sliding back into her.

She really started to moan and call out as the intensity increased. He grabbed her tiny waist and slammed her up and down, driving her harder. She held still as he continued to pile drive her, but her tits bounced up and down violently with each impact. She was helpless, nothing more than a doll in his arms, forcing the poor girl down over and over again. Faster and faster, not letting anything subside. She collapsed on top of him and just went along for the ride.

She gasped. It took a few minutes, but just when she had recovered enough to resume the work, David rolled them onto their sides.

His dick never left her insides, still in between her legs. He slowed the pace, looking deep into her eyes. His hands caressed her smooth curves, feeling every inch of her.

Finally, his balls stopped churning and just exploded with everything he had. There was no time to stop and pull out.

They collapsed against each other momentarily sated. David loved fucking. He loved how it made him even bigger when he came. It was the only thing that gave him more pleasure than moving iron.

But after a few minutes Georgia asked, “Can we do that again?”

David smiled and nodded.

Part Eleven: Tabula Rosa II.

Later that night, the same Saturday, around 9:00pm

“Oh, man,” said Brandon, as he and Mark left the shower, “I ain’t never done anything like that before.”

Mark assessed Brandon from a distance. Except for the fact that he’d just sucked off a guy who’d just broken world records in every lift, it had been like any other normal night at the gym. And they could be any other gym rats in the world, and perfectly straight. But Mark was having trouble keeping his eyes off Brandon. The movement of Brandon’s body and the play of the lights along his muscles as they moved was almost hypnotic.

“Dude,” Mark replied, almost in an effort to reaffirm it for himself, “I like chicks. I don’t know what happened back there.”

Brandon stood there with a towel wrapped round his waist. He made a muscle with his right arm, and Mark thought he’d go weak in the knees. It was a huge, perfectly defined ball of steel fibers. A thing of worship.

“Yeah?” said Brandon, noticing Mark’s reaction, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Mark knew at that moment that if Brandon asked him for a sexual favor of any description that he would willingly oblige him. Brandon casually licked his bicep and gave Mark a lascivious grin.

“Dude,” Mark said, “You’re huge. And strong. What I saw back there was unbelievable.”

They were now getting dressed. Mark couldn’t help but feel a touch of envy.

“How big do you want to get?” asked Brandon causally, as if reading his thoughts.

“As big as I can,” Mark said reverently, “As big as you. Bigger even.”

“Well,” said Brandon smugly, “I don’t know about that.” He brought up his other arm then, standing by that point in just his jeans. They look like they had been painted on they were that tight.

“I kinda like being the biggest, baddest fucker around.”

He brought both his arms up then. It was mind numbingly beautiful to see. The way Brandon’s arms mounded up and his chest rippled as he casually moved around. His abs were totally defined.

“I could help you out, ya know,” said Brandon, relaxing his flex for the moment.

Mark looked suddenly hopeful, “How?” he asked.

“I have my ways.”

Brandon went to put on the shirt he’d been wearing earlier, but just when he finally got it over his chest, stretched tight, it’s frail fabrics gave way under the pressure of Brandon’s significantly increased mass. It tore into multiple pieces leaving Brandon standing there big and golden and shredded, his chest like two large slabs and his arms like small bowling balls.

After a moment Mark belatedly realized he’d just creamed his pants.

“I’m in,” he said.

Part 12

[aku014]

I rather like this!

[omelissokomos]

You can read the rest of the story on his online archive at my site.

[Boatsandhoes005]

enjoyed this one too