Charlie

[pizzadaddy]

this is awesome man, its like waiting for the next episode of a hype TV series... dude ill be nervous as fuck if theres a season finale... best story on the site for sure 99/100 rotten tomatoes

[dhalden]

Honestly, that's kind of how I'm structuring it in my mind, pizzadaddy. And, yes, there will be a "season finale" of sorts. (With major plot-lines already laid for "next season" believe it or not).

[dhalden]

Tearing free the second cheesy quesadilla, I shoved one end past my lips and bit off a mouthful. The crumpled wrapper ended up, like the two before it, on the floor of the passenger side of my car. This should hold me over for now, I thought. I was already full, not painfully so, but I wanted some assurance over the next few hours until dinner. As unexpectedly as my appetite had arrived and continued to surge throughout the day, I was convinced that I needed to be prepared. Which, now that I think about it, I still have no idea what to make for dinner. Steaks? Pork chops? The mere thought of a slab of meat sizzling away on the grill drew the quesadilla to my lips again and I bit off another cheesy mouthful. Charlie cannot find out about this though. Not that he?d get angry?probably not. I hope not anyway. Just disappointed, most likely. The image of my blond, hunk of a roommate frowning crestfallen at my momentary fragility of willpower made my heart sink. Simply being near him made me want to be my best version of myself, inwardly and outwardly, and though the possibility that we could be anything more than friends seemed insurmountable, the eternal teenager in me liked to imagine what those thick pythons of his might feel like around me someday. Charlie finding out that you?re shoving your mouth full of Taco Bell behind his back is definitely not going to put you in his amorous sights, especially given that he?s your private personal trainer.

As I pulled onto my street, I checked my face in the rearview mirror for any cheesy residue. Though I saw none, I nevertheless wiped my mouth on the back of both hands. Parking, I quickly gathered up the evidence of my covert culinary binge, shoving the wrappers back in the bag, and stashed them in the glove department. I checked myself in the mirror again.

"Don't be a secret fatty," I said. "Your life isn't a TLC show."

Inside, I deposited my bag in its usual spot by the front door and ambled into the kitchen. Lynn would be arriving in two and a half hours. I scanned the refrigerator. Grilled chicken and fruit salad it is, I thought upon seeing the available options, though the mere contemplation of putting away another batch of food made me slightly nauseated. What the heck happened today? I haven?t each that much since college. Maybe not even back then. Wondering if my sudden development of appetite could have any correlation, psychologically speaking, with the return of my college roommate, I started toward my bedroom, loosening my tie as I went. It felt strangely tighter than usual and I wondered if I had perhaps unconsciously tugged on it nervously throughout the day?

We collided at the bathroom door.

"Oh shit?" Charlie started to say.

Stumbling, I thrust my hands forward to catch myself and, in the time between seconds, watched in the slow motion reel of my mind as they made contact with the nearest, sturdiest brace: his chest. Each heaving, hairless pec glistened with the afterglow of a fresh shower and as my hands collided with them, I watch the soft, cushiony muscle momentarily yield and give way beneath them. And then my hands were slipping and sliding down and away over his still wet chest, brushing over his soft, bronze nipples as they went, my fingers catching fleetingly the sensation of those pillows of muscle solidifying as he braced himself to catch me. Cords of striations swelled before my eyes.

My awkward descent came to a grinding halt as his hands gripped my shoulders, bolstering me.

"I?uh?shit, I'm sorry, I didn't?that was?" I stammered stupidly.

"What're you doing home?" he said, cutting across me. His voice was caught somewhere between surprise and embarrassment, if not slightly irritated. "I?you fucking scared me, man." He heaved a sigh and released it, chuckling nervously. Suddenly realizing that his hands were still planted on my shoulders, he unfurled and withdrew them. "You okay, man?"

"Y-Yeah. Yes. I, uh, thanks?thank you."

My eyes were trained carefully on his and, achingly beautiful as those clover green eyes were, I suddenly, involuntarily, glanced downward at the slabs of muscle on full display before me. Adrenaline must have flooded his body as well upon collision; still wetly shining, his pecs looked plumper than a moment before, his nipples erect and pointing. Oh god was that me? Wait. Eyes up?now. I quickly snapped my gaze up to meet his, but my fleeting indiscretion had evidently been noted. Awkwardly, as if unsure what to do with them, he crossed his thick arms over his chest. My stomach fluttered and rolled as his pecs rolled and pushed together, the hearty cleft in his chest growing deeper. Whatever you do, do not look the fuck down.

"What're you...what're you doing home?" he asked. "I thought you had a meeting. No gym session, remember?"

"Oh yeah. I did, but...it ended up just being a brief chat on some new policies is all," I said too quickly. One corner of his mouth began to drop into a frown. "And I was going to just go ahead and text you,? I added hastily, ?but it turns out that I forgot my gym shoes! So, yeah, couldn't work out anyway. What're you doing home?"

"Showering," he said simply. "I hit the gym without you. Needed to wash the funk off." A long silence followed; the butterflies in my stomach flapped their wings thunderously. Deafeningly. If you look down, I swear to fuck it?ll be the last thing you do. Do. Not. Look. Down.

"Dinner at six. Don't forget," I breathed, my mouth dry as sandpaper.

"Right," he said. Even peripherally, his chiseled torso was ridiculously impressive. Don?t forget that towel, the greedy little voice in the back of my head whispered. I wonder what wonders are lingering under there. My own concealed member stirred at the thought and I shifted awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other.

"I'm going to go change now," I announced.

"Right," he said again. "Me, uh, too."

And hurriedly we moved toward our separate rooms. I felt simultaneously light as air and bogged down by an anvil, barely able to walk a straight line. The image of that spectacular body was practically burned into my retinas. I had just turned to shut my bedroom door behind me, when his voice floated across the hall and met my ears.

"Andy?"

"Hmmm?" I said, turning. Oh fuck me look at that chest. ?Y-Yes??

"I was just wondering?have you been feeling alright? I mean, today. It's just that sometimes the BCAA's I gave you can have, uh, adverse side-effects.?

"F-Fine," I stammered. He stared at me for what I sensed was a second or two longer than was comfortable before nodding and grinning that fucking brilliant smile, his eyes sparkling. Then he waved and shut the door, disappearing behind it. Show?s over, I thought with a mixture of relief and regret. I collapsed against my own door the moment it was closed and exhaled a breath I hadn?t realized I was holding. "Never better," I whispered, and rubbed my fingertips together, the memory of his glorious, muscular pecs still lingering on them like some invisible electricity.

[pizzadaddy]

im sorry to be an asshole and demand more... but moar please

[nnnrg]

I keep forgetting that this is all in one thread

I have been trying to eat better lately. I feel a bit like Andy, forced by the demands of ghrelin, insulin, and leptin, with their interactions with adrenalin and orexin (which of course has to work FINE for this part of my life, even though it's seriously lacking elsewhere).... Leptin AND insulin resistance, and they go hand in grease-inflated hand... When can I get a case of ghrelin resistance?

And I hope things clear up for Andy... it seems he's got something pushing him to eat more, and yet he's still improving enough to be noticed by co-workers.

[kamaswami]

I'd love to see more of this story, hint hint.

[dhalden]

I know, I know! This weekend, I promise!

[pizzadaddy]

awesome, thanks

[Steven]

I decided to give this “Charlie” a try tonight, and I’m still here after reading all the installments at one sitting…which, suffice to say, means I like it! I do hope you make good on your comment about another installment by this weekend, even though, for the record, I am one who likes good stories delved out a bit at a time for savoring purposes. If you’re the kind of writer (and I know some who are) that begins to sacrifice quality for the need to satisfy an audience that can’t seem to control their hunger…Please don’t work it that way. Sure, I want to read more of your story…but, I want your best effort…or at least, the best you have to offer with whatever else is demanding time out of your life. So far, it’s been a great read, and I THANK YOU for that!

[pizzadaddy]

with all due respect, you just had the whole story delivered to you back-to-back like watching a whole series on netflix. I would rather have the next installment right now, because its a real cool story and im confident its standard will deliver, the author is awesome. You havent waited like all of us. Come join us tho

[dhalden]

Firstly, my apologies. I know I promised a new installment forever ago, but for reasons you'd be bored to tears hearing about , I've been sidetracked. I took Steven (and other folk's) advice to heart though and made sure to craft what I consider a quality installment. Thanks for the support and patience in my absence, guys. And now, on to the story...



A glistening film of sweat clung to my body as I lay panting on my bed, my cum-splattered chest heaving in the afterglow of my jerk session. The image of Charlie's hard, heavy pecs still burned in my mind, clear as crystal, making my cock buck with residual pleasure, begging for more.

"Later," I panted, for though I had satisfied my sexual appetite, my stomach had begun to growl again. "Unreal," I mumbled, reaching for some Kleenexes on the nightstand. Mopping up my load from my chest and stomach had always been a task, but it seemed to prove a lengthier process than usual and required more than a couple of tissues, I noticed vaguely as I wiped my chest and stomach clean. Must be all that water I've been drinking, I surmised, thinking of the gallon of purified spring water Charlie had recently assigned for me to carry around all day. Still?

A creak of the floorboard outside my door hooked my attention.

Was Charlie listening at the door? Had he heard me jerking off? I trembled, imagining the sight that would greet his eyes if he stepped through the door: me, naked except for my socks, cum-soaked Kleenex in hand. As if the day hadn't already been mortifying enough. A moment later, however, I heard the front door open and shut, a sound which a car door in the driveway echoed. Great, I scared him off. He's probably heading to a hotel now. Way to go, you idiot, you jerked him right out the door. Edging off the bed, I crossed to the window and peered out covertly, finding the driveway empty. I briefly contemplated texting him, but thought better of it. Maybe's he's just going shopping or something. Yeah, that's probably it. Just the grocery.

The mere hint of the near-endless contents of the local grocery store sent another gripping wave of hunger through my stomach. Wincing, I stood, discarded the drenched tissues (There's definitely more there than usual), and crossed to the closet. Pulling out my favorite shirt, a blue tee with a faded print of Captain America's indestructible shield of Vibranium across the front, and a pair of shorts, I quickly began dressing. Knowing Lynn, she would arrive an hour or more early, completely unaware how a lack of punctuality ground my nerves?

I paused, freezing in place with my t-shirt pulled halfway down my torso. Something felt off. It was noticeably tighter around my chest and arms, snug even, hugging my shoulders firmly where it had previously hung loosely. Fan-fucking-tastic. First I embarrass myself in front of the hottest guy I've ever seen and now my shirt is shrunk. This day just isn't going?wait a second. I quickly counted back to the last time I could recall washing the shirt. It had been awhile, a month or more at least, well before Charlie had arrived. The gears in my mind sped up. That meant that the shirt hadn't shrunk, but that...

"...I'm growing."

I tried to let the words sink in, but they'd barely left my lips before I pulled the shirt the rest of the way on and turned to face myself in the full-body mirror attached to the inside of my closet door. Whoa, I thought, facing the buff man staring back at me. Was that me? Were my arms really that full? My shoulders that round? I quickly raised my arms and squeezed my fists, flexing, and watched with pleasant wonder and surprise as my biceps formed into two balled peaks of muscle. Oh hell yeah. I flexed them harder, marveling at the separation between my biceps and triceps that had not existed before. I quickly brought my arm down into a tight, close pose against my torso, and traced over its new-found density with my other hand, appreciating each and every fiber. When the hell had this happened? I certainly hadn't felt like I was growing, and yet I obviously had. Probably just been too busy between working out and school, I reasoned. My hand moved to my chest, tracing its shape and size through the fabric pulled snugly across it. Within seconds, my nipples poked pointedly against the material. I moved my hand across one of them coaxingly?

DING-DONG. The melody of the doorbell jingled through the house. Lynn, I thought bitterly, my eyes still trained on the reflection I hardly recognized, now moving higher to my firm, round shoulders...

"I know you're in there, Andy!" Lynn's voice called from the front door. "You aren?t jerking off in there, are you??

"You have no idea," I growled, and hurried from my room. By the time I reached the front door, she had given way to hammering it impatiently, so that when I finally swung it open, her first nearly collided with my face. I swerved to the side, her fist grazing my chest.

"Oops! Sorry, Andy, I didn't?" she paused, her eyes sweeping me. "You have been working out, haven't you?"

I grinned sheepishly and started to answer when my eyes fell on the aluminum-foil-wrapped tray in her hands. My stomach seized demandingly at the sight of it, imagining the delicious contents it held.

"Appetizers?" I asked, reaching for them hungrily.

"Nothing special, just some stuffed mushrooms," she observed, handing over the platter. I turned on my heel and headed directly for the kitchen, Lynn following without question. At the oven, I peeled off the aluminum foil and tossed it aside, urgently tipping the cheesy appetizers onto a baking sheet. "So where's he at?"

"Hmm?" I mumbled, tossing the sheet into the oven. Come on, baby, cook fast. I'm starving. "Who? Oh, Charlie. He, uh, stepped out for a second. Ran to the store, I think. Do you want something to drink?"

She winked and reached into her oversized handbag, withdrawing a sizable bottle of wine. "Brought my own. Be prepared. That's what the Boy Scouts say, right?"

"I wouldn't know. I never joined," I admitted, returning fleetingly in my mind to my gawky, closeted youth. I had been offensively thin and ungainly throughout junior high and high school and the prospect of camping out would have only proven it to my peers.

"So what did you say this Rent-A-Hunk of yours does?" Lynn said, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and pouring herself a glass of the thick, red wine. My mouth watered as I fought the urge to snatch the bottle from her and drain its contents.

"Something to do with finance or accounting or something?no, thanks, I'm not allowed to have alcohol, Charlie says its empty calories?I don't really know. He never talks about it, but I hear him working on his laptop all the time at night."

"Sure he's not just on Cam4 cumming for cash?" she chuckled. I joined her, but privately sighed at the thought of watching Charlie going to town on himself, his muscles bulging as he jerked off. My cock, still not yet completely soft, swelled an inch. Every guy could use a jerk partner once a while, right? "Well, whatever he does on his own time, I hope he does it half as good as what he does when he's on your time."

"What do you mean?"

"Uh, hello? Have you seen yourself lately? You're a total babe!"

In fact, I thought proudly, I have. And I would?ve seen more if you knew how to read a clock, too. Coming from Lynn, the world's largest source of superfluous innuendo, the compliment seemed somewhat undermined, or would have if I hadn't seen for myself minutes before what she was seeing for herself.

"You look like a young and hunky Ty Burrell," she said, reaching out and squeezing my arm. "Sexy indeed. Think we have enough time for a quick fuck before you-know-who gets back?"

"Sure, let me just grab the spare strap-on that I keep in the hall closet," I joked, and we laughed, any acrimony I felt toward her melting away. By now the mushrooms were filling the kitchen with a tantalizing aroma. I tried not to wince at every clench of my stomach, but it proved near impossible. "Think those are done yet?"

"It's only been, like, five min?"

"Me too. How many do you want? Three? Four? I think I'll have seven. Seven sounds about right. Or nine." I said quickly. Lynn watched with raised eyebrows as I retrieved the baking sheet from the oven and began dividing up the mushrooms. As we ate (Lynn picking at her share between sips of wine while I wolfishly devoured mine and Charlie's portions both), we talked, killing the time while I slapped barbecue-slathered chicken breasts onto the grill. We'd only just finished heatedly discussing the newest episode of Breaking Bad, when we heard the jingle of keys in the front door. Instantly I rose and Lynn straightened in her chair. As she put her full breasts on display, I realized that I was not the only one who had chosen to wear a tight tee-shirt for dinner. Before I could chastise her, Charlie appeared in the living room doorway, gym-bag in hand.

"Hey! Charlie, this is Lynn. She teaches with me?"

But Lynn, never one to miss an opportunity, was already out of her chair and standing in front of Charlie, hip cocked and chest perked, doing her best impression of a Playboy bunny.

"Hullo," Charlie said dully, casting an unavoidable glance at her chest.

"Andy sure didn't undersell you in the least," Lynn said, giggling girlishly. I choked back an interjection. I had never heard once heard her make such a noise; it sounded downright unnatural. "We had some appetizers, but your roommate scarfed them all down. I blame you. He wouldn't be so hungry if he didn't have to fuel all those new muscles of his."

"New...?" Charlie echoed, looking over her shoulder and seemingly spotting me for the first time. He gave me a quick one over. I wondered what exactly it was he was considering and suddenly didn't feel so newly buff beneath his gaze, and certainly not in his presence. Beside him, I looked scrawny as ever. Add Lynn into the competition and I suddenly dropped to the bottom of the list of Most Attractive Person Present.

"Chicken's got to be done by now," I said quickly, turning away. Grateful for the solitariness of the back patio, I took my time retrieving the delicious looking chicken from the grill. Please don't let him want her, I willed the universe at large. He doesn't have to want me, just don't let him want her. Okay, okay, I want him to want me too, but I'd settle for the status quo just as long as he doesn't fall for her. Can?t you just make this one little thing happen?

Stepping back inside, I discovered that Charlie and Lynn had already taken their seats at the table, directly opposite one another. She stared at his arms and chest unashamedly. I quietly eased into my own seat at the head of the table a speared a chicken breast. Charlie took two.

"A hearty appetite," Lynn remarked. "Is every part of you big?"

I kicked at her under the table, missed, and knocked the leg of her chair instead. She didn't notice or, if she did, gave no indication. Charlie, meanwhile, was preoccupied cutting into his chicken.

"The body's an organic machine," he explained with the bored air of someone explaining how a pencil works. "Every machine needs fuel, but every machine needs different fuel based on its size and capabilities. I need more and better fuel than most guys, so yeah, you could say I've got a big appetite."

I watched him, watched as every muscle in his carved jaw flexed with each bite, and wondered how low a person?s body fat would have to get in order to show that much definition. How long would it take me to get there? We continued eating in relative silence except for Lynn's occasional question trimmed in sexual subtext, leaving me to wonder not for the first time if she was perhaps a nymphomaniac.

And then, suddenly, my fork struck my plate, finding it empty.

"Pass the asparagus," I said, taking a quick survey of the food that was left. Lynn passed the plate to me absentmindedly and I spooned the remaining stalks onto my plate. They disappeared just as swiftly. "The rice please," I whispered to Charlie (who was deftly deflecting another of Lynn's advances). I emptied every remaining grain onto my plate and from my plate into my mouth, but a dim, gnawing hunger still remained in the back of my stomach when I?d finished. I was not until I had polished off the last chicken breast, remaining salad, and bowlful of fruit salad that I sat back in my chair, my stomach taut, but satisfied. I smiled smugly down at my empty plate and when I looked up again, I caught Charlie glancing away, but not before tossing me an impressed grin. Let's see you growl now, you bastard, I thought smugly, patting my stomach.

Afterward, we retired to the back patio and settled into lawn chairs to watch the evening descend, Charlie's groaning loudly beneath him as he sank into it. Somewhere close by someone was burning a bonfire; the acrid aroma of smoke wafted through the air. The sun sank toward the horizon.

"You know, I really do like this town," Lynn said, sighing and tossing back her hair. She had evidently given up trying to seduce Charlie, or had at least opted for a less ostensible strategy; regardless, she was no longer making thinly veiled advances. ?You?re so lucky to have grown up here, Andy.?

?That?s debatable. One year in West Cape is like seven years in the real world. And it?s not exactly the most accepting town, if you catch my drift.?
It was the first time I had discussed being gay in front of Charlie, I realized too late, and quickly tossed a glance toward him to gage his response. He, however, was staring out across the lawn silently.

"Well, you got out,? Lynn said reassuringly. ?For a while anyway. Where are you from, Charlie? Charlie?"

"Huh?" he asked, snapping out of his perplexed daze. "I?m from Indiana. Worked at my Dad's place in high school and headed back after college. Been with the same accounting firm since. It's called..."

He continued talking, but his words fell on deaf ears, for a sudden itch irritated my arm. I slapped at the spot, assuming a mosquito, before realizing the prickling was not in a singular place. A tight ring of irritation had formed around my arm precisely where the cuff of my sleeve ended. I scratched at it with my left hand and the same irritation flared on my left arm too. These sleeves definitely weren?t this tight before. This collar either? I tugged at the ring of material around my neck casually, not wanting to attract their attention, and felt the fabric around my arms squeeze tighter still. I squirmed as a hot, flustered sweat began developing in my armpits and on the back of my neck.

"Uh, excuse me a second guys?guy and girl, I mean?I just need to use the bathroom. Be right..."

But I was through the door before I could finish, half-jogging for the bathroom. Every step pulled the material tighter around my neck, like two encircling hands tightening their grip. I burst through the bathroom door and slammed it shut behind me. Gotta get this shirt off before it strangles me?why is so freaking hot all of the sudden?? With more effort than was typically needed, I managed to peel off the shirt and drop it to the floor. So much for my favorite tee-shirt, I thought, staring down at the balled-up material at my feet. Maybe I can get it let out. Slowly, I raised my gaze to the mirror?and watched my reflection?s mouth drop open in surprise.

?You?ve got to be shitting me.?

[Reeza]

That was very much worth the wait. Well done.

I like the humorous tone of this story. There are lines I remember from the earlier parts that still make me smile. In this part, I liked "Lynn, the world's largest source of superfluous innuendo."

[arpeejay]

http://www.facebook.com/arpeejay

[Anifanatic10]

I'm with Reeza, Lynn is definitely my favorite character out of any story on here (Sorry Reeza). It's probably the hag-fag in me.

[convolution]

Thanks,
Andy's getting "swole" ; what fun

[Uruso]

Good job on this story, it has been quite entertaining. The muscle theme has been almost incidental to my enjoyment of the story so far. Keep up the good work.

[pizzadaddy]

three thumbs up

[Steven]

Yes indeed, this was a "quality installment". This should be quite interesting as it unfolds. It certainly has me intrigued.

[Otaru_grower]

I absolutely love this story more than I can say. It's got everything. It feels just like a movie. I am always grateful for professional level stories like this. I love where it's headed and I keep picturing it as Charlie secretly wanting to be eventually dominated by his friend...

[dhalden]

Thanks for all of the feedback, fellas. Really keeps me motivated. I am writing the next installment as we speak.

[dhalden]

Hey, guys. Just a short entry tonight, but important to the plot. Enjoy!

"Uh, excuse me a second guys," Andy announced suddenly, hopping up from his seat. "Guy and girl, I mean?I just need to use the bathroom. Be right?"

Abruptly he darted inside, leaving the sliding glass door ajar behind him. Charlie watched him go, perplexed, and felt his stomach twist with guilt. All day, Andy had been acting strangely?nervously fidgeting around, avoiding eye contact, and, most obviously of all, eating excessively?culminating in their collision in the hallway outside of the bathroom.

Charlie couldn't help but feel responsible. He had awoken especially early, exceptionally so considering he usually arose pre-dawn, and looked in on Andy. Finding him sleeping soundlessly in his bed, he quietly ducked out and headed for the kitchen to begin breakfast early. He was halfway through cracking a half dozen eggs when a thought struck him. Staring down at the yet unbroken yolks in the bowl before him, his mind drifted to his gym bag at the foot of his bed and the vials of NPH-01 safely hidden inside. Sure, he'd given Andy a whole vial the night before, but that really wasn't that much if you thought about it. He himself had only gained ten pounds with the concentrated liquid weight-gainer (which he had decided it was). A hard-gainer like Andy would probably only gain half of that at best, so what was another vial if not a chance to improve his gains a bit?

He had just finished stirring the second vial of clear fluid into the eggs when Andy appeared in the doorway. What ensued was an eating frenzy the likes of which he had never seen the little guy perform before. But that had been that morning. A second, equally impressive gorging had occurred at dinner, and had not Andy looked noticeably more buff when he'd arrived? Maybe two vials was too much, too soon...

"How long have you been in the game?"

He turned, tearing his gaze away from the back door, and looked across the patio at the bosomy biology teacher sitting opposite him. Lynn, Andy had informed him. She'll make your head spin, Charlie thought. Her brown, chestnut hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, completing her unintentional look of a collegiate cheerleader. Or not so unintentional, he suspected.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, and looked across the lawn again.

"I knew it the moment I saw you," she said. "It's not like an aura or anything, just a look you have in your eyes. I used to have it too. How many years in are you?"

He frowned. "I seriously don't know what you're?"

?Escorting. The business. How long?" she said flatly. He turned back to her. Her former kitten-grin had replaced with a flat, unimpressed upturn of the lip, her formerly sparkling eyes now trained coldly on him. "Oh I got out years ago," she said, when he said nothing. "I just did it to bring in some cash during college. I thought about making it my full-time job, but this is one girl who can't deny a good set of beakers when she sees them."

Charlie snorted. "You're so full of shit."

He looked her over again. She nearly had the body of a fitness model, but who the hell did she think she was talking to? His first impression was that she rubbed him the wrong way, with her too-obvious come-ons; now he decidedly disliked her. He had to admit, however, that this intimate knowledge of his life did unsettle him some. Could she really tell or what she just guessing?

"When were you planning on telling Andy? Or were you planning on telling him at all?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said again. "If this is your idea of flirting?"

"Do you want to know how I know?" she cut across him. "It's in your eyes. It's in everyone's eyes if they do it long enough. It was in my eyes one morning when I looked in the mirror. That's when I knew I had to get out. A hollowness. You wake up one day like I did and you see it. You wonder how long it's been there and when it happened and then you realize it was always there. You realize it was the thing you were trying to fill in the first place. You tried to satisfy it by sucking and fucking but it won't ever be enough. All you can do is hope that it'll sink beneath the surface again."

Charlie stared at her, nonplussed. "Thanks for that little heart-to-heart there, Oprah, but like I said, I don't know what you're talking about."

She grinned coyly and said, "You will."

"I need a drink," he said, and stood. Before he could make it to the door, she was out of her seat as well, surprisingly swift, tossing herself in his way.

"What're you...?"

"One more thing," she said, raising a finger. "I don't care if you lie to me and to yourself, but Andy's a sweet guy. Don't lie to him. Whatever you're up to?and I know you're up to something?leave him out of it. Or, at the least, make sure he doesn't get hurt. Think you can do that, hunk?"

"Message received," Charlie said coolly. "But nothing's going on. S'cuse me."

He pushed past her into the kitchen, no easy feat considering his huge shoulders and her hefty breasts. He crossed to the fridge, withdrew a bottle of water, and chugged it down furiously. Who the hell did that bitch think she was lecturing him? The fuck did she know about anything? He didn't fuck to fill some emotional void. He fucked because he liked it and it supplemented his wallet. And where the hell did she get off warning him about Andy? She didn't know the half of it, the nosy bitch. He'd show her. He wasn't putting Andy in any danger; he was helping the little guy achieve every guy's dream of becoming ripped. The thought of Andy as big and ripped as himself, however, stirred something in Charlie; his stomach suddenly rolled with butterflies.

"Andy!" Lynn called. He turned, spotting her at the end of the hall outside of the bathroom. "I'm going to head out, okay? Thanks for dinner!"

"Oh!" Andy called back. "Oh, okay! I'll, uh, see you tomorrow!"

"Uh-huh!" Lynn called over her shoulder, heading for the front door. Reaching for the knob, she stopped and leveled her gaze at Charlie again. "I was serious about what I said. Don't hurt him."

He flashed her his coldest grin, which she returned icily. When the door had closed behind her, he went to the window and watched her drive off. Bitch, he thought. Suddenly a floorboard creaked behind him. He turned and caught a fleeting glimpse of Andy darting into his room. Quietly he stalked to the door and knocked softly.

"You okay in there, bud?" he called. There was a pause, broken by the sound of creaking bed springs and hurried footsteps across the floor.

"Yeah! Fine! Just spilled something on my shirt. Be?just a second..."

Charlie listened again, placing his ear against the door, but he only heard the soft rustlings of Andy moving about. A second later Andy's footsteps approached and he stepped back as the door swung open forcefully.

"Everything alright?" he asked. Andy looked flush with excitement, his normally pale cheeks a notable pink, his eyes gleaming. The navy blue t-shirt he had been wearing before, the one with the Captain America insignia, was replaced by a large, baggy sweatshirt. It completely obscured the discernibly more buff body he had been displaying during dinner.

"I'm great. Never better!"

"It's like 80 degrees outside, man," Charlie said. "Why the sweater?"

Andy visibly searched for words. "Laundry day."

Charlie nodded slowly, unconvinced. "Well, I'll just be in my room if you need me. And you?re sure you're feeling okay, man?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Andy said, beaming. "I could go for a protein shake though, what about you?"

[convolution]

Hmm,
The plot thickens ... along with Andy

[dhalden]

First, the good news: a new entry! Now the bad news: my laptop has gone to the the technological afterlife. In other words, its completely shot. I've spent the last few weeks trying this and that, but it's been a futile effort (hence the lack of entries). Thus, I've been reduced to writing this on my phone. Which I hate. So forgive me the brevity and quality of this entry and foreseeable future entries until I can get my hands on a new laptop. Until then, I'm reduced to using a desktop whenever a moment's privacy crops up. Enjoy!

"Whoa."

I stared breathlessly at the stranger reflected in the mirror, nonplussed. It was simply beyond my comprehension that the figure staring back at me was?well, me. And yet, when I raised an arm, he raised an arm. When I took a step back, he took a step back. When my mouth fell open, his did too.

Out of the swirling whirlpool that was my mind, a single thought arose: I look good.

The first thing I noticed were my pecs. For the first time in my life, I had two discernible, muscular pecs. I gritted my teeth and squeezed them, my heart skipping a beat as perceivable striations flushed across them. And then I cupped them one at time?my left in my right hand and my right in my left hand?testing their suppleness and weight, savoring the fact that they amounted to a handful apiece. Involuntarily, the pec I was fondling stiffened with excitement, instantaneously losing its pliability and becoming rock hard. My nipple became erect. I flexed them again, watching in wonder as a modest amount of my dark chest hair disappeared into the shallow cleft between the newly formed pecs. My dick stiffened at the sight.

And my stomach! If my pecs were discernible, my abdominals were more than plainly apparent. I have abs, I marveled, I have actual abs. For as long as I could recall, I had secretly harbored a desire for abs?and here they were, seemingly magically developed. I tightened my core, the beaming grin on my face growing wider and wider as the clefts between each abdominal grew deeper, my skin practically shrink-wrapping around them. Gingerly I ran my hand over my stomach, fearful I might somehow disrupt the illusion, and gasped in surprise at the all-too-real stones I felt beneath my fingers. Each was the size of the small of my palm and when I relaxed them, they evened out, yet remained compact. My cock lengthened and hardened further, painfully wrestling against the confines of my underwear.

I carried on flexing, touching, examining, worshiping each and every newly bulging muscle. Fleetingly I wondered what was occurring?the human body couldn't possibly develop overnight as mine evidently had?but then my eyes settled on my arms?and the totality of my focus, my world, centered on them.

They were biggest I had ever seen them. And certainly bigger than a few hours before when, in my bedroom, I had gaped at them. Again, I wondered how it was possible and again I found my attention diverted to a new feature of my ripped physique: vascularity. The same influx of blood that was engorging my dick had flooded the veins in my arms (my whole body, in fact) so that a particularly thick vein stood out sharply against my skin. I traced it gently with one shaking finger. I gasped. The rush of blood and adrenaline coursing through it was palpable. All the while the same word kept falling from my lips:

"Impossible...impossible...im-fucking-possible..."

A soft knock arose at the door.

"Andy!" Lynn called from the other side. "I'm going to head out, okay? Thanks for dinner!"

"Oh!" In my admonishment at my newly carved torso, I'd forgotten about Charlie and Lynn. "Oh, okay! I'll, uh, see you tomorrow!"

"Uh-huh!" I listened as her footsteps drew away. Better join the party again, even if it is over. I stared down at me now too-small formerly favorite shirt and frowned. Scooping it off the floor, I crept to the door and listened to the front door open and then close: Lynn leaving. Gently I pulled open the door and peered out. Charlie was standing at the front window, evidently peering at Lynn as she walked to her car. Damn. Did he really have a thing for her?

A floorboard suddenly creaked beneath my foot as I stepped into the hall. My stomach dropped. Practically diving into my bedroom, I slammed the door shut behind me and scurried to my dresser, pulling open the drawers haphazardly. I couldn't help but grin as I felt the fibers of my newly improved musculature twitch and flex with every motion. Another soft knock at my door. Charlie.

"You okay in there, bud?"

Grabbing the first shirt that looked large enough to accommodate my new size, a heavy sweatshirt, I pulled it over my head. Blindfolded by the material, I started for the door, tripped, and fell onto the bed.

"Yeah! Fine! Just spilled something on my shirt," I lied. "Be?just a second..."
Jumping up, I pulled the sweatshirt on the rest of the way and hurried I the door, swinging it ajar more forcefully than I had intended. My chest swelled proudly in surprise.

"Everything alright?" Charlie asked. One of his perfectly shaped eyebrows was cocked in curiosity which, despite his concern, only made him look like he was giving me his best smolder for a magazine cover.

"I'm great. Never better!" I said honestly. He looked me up and down, those hazel eyes taking me in. Could he recognize my freshly ripped body even beneath the sweatshirt?

"It's like 80 degrees outside, man," he said. "Why the sweater?"

Because it was the first and only thing that fits, I thought. I searched for something to say, biting my lip. "Laundry day!" I lied.

Charlie nodded slowly, seemingly unconvinced, but said nothing more. I realized for the first time just how impressively thick his neck was. It filled the confines of his collar. I wonder how long it?ll take for me to get to that size?

"I'll just be in my room if you need me," he said. "Sure you're feeling okay, man?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely," I said instantly, beaming. And hungry again, if you can believe that. I quickly consulted my stomach, which answered with a soft growl. "I could go for a protein shake though, what about you?"

This time, both of Charlie's eyebrows rose.

"Sure thing, man," he said, that infectiously disarming grin of his spreading across his face. I motioned toward the kitchen, rubbing my firm pecs under the sweater as I followed him, and wondered if perhaps his smile was not the only infectious thing about him.

[dhalden]

The week that followed was, in a word, magnificent.

The morning after the less-than-smooth dinner with Lynn (every second of the latter half of which I kept rewinding and replaying in my mind as I went about my day) I awoke wondering if perhaps I had only dreamt of having a toned physique. Yet when I pulled off my blanket and discovered my abs as cobblestone as ever, I triumphantly punched the air. Afterward, I eagerly entered the kitchen and gobbled down whatever smorgasbord Charlie had prepared while he watched in awe. Such was my new morning routine.

School was considerably improved as well. Perhaps it was simply the increased confidence I exuded, but students and faculty that had previously acted as if I weren't existent now stepped aside as I passed them in the corridors. I even saw heads even turn in my direction and follow me as I passed. Several students, Luke Freeman chief amongst them, began openly complimenting me.

"Damn, have you been working out, Mr. D? What routine have you been using? P90x?" he asked one day.

"Don't curse in front of a teacher," I replied casually, though inwardly I danced with glee. Truthfully, I could not pinpoint what part of my routine was the most effective. To date, I had done nothing more than Charlie had outlined from Day One. Besides the supplements, of course.

"So do you and Coach train together?"

I looked up from the lesson plan I was sketching.

"Why do you say that?"

"You?re both getting freaking swole," Luke said sheepishly.

"Swoll?? I echoed, at a loss. ?Uh, we've used the same gym, Luke, but we don't train together, no. Now take your seat, please."

I watched as the beanpole of a basketball player sauntered back to his seat, settled in, and leaned across the aisle to whisper something in Carl Beecham's ear. Undoubtedly about the conversation we had just had. Am I really becoming that much of a topic of conversation? I had to suppress a grin at the thought. What else are they saying about me?

Ten minutes later, as the class settled into small groups to discuss the day's reading assignment, I pulled up Google and searched "swoll". None of the results, so far as I could tell, provided clarification. Discouraged, I quickly scribbled "Swoll?" onto a Post-It.

"Luke, could you come here for a sec?"

Still laughing from statement made within his small-group (how Jane Eyre could prove humorous was beyond me) he lumbered back to my desk.

"What's up, Mr. D?"

I gestured to the Post-It but didn't look up from my lesson plan. The more offhanded you appear, the better. You don't want them thinking you're getting arrogant. Luke glanced down at my note, chuckled, and picked up my pen. He scribbled something back. Once he had returned to his seat, I glanced at his reply: "S-W-O-L-E = Buff. Jacked. Ripped." Which is how Luke Freeman, C-average point guard of the Ravens, earned his second A+ in my class.

The rest of my classes passed without event until third period when the bell signaling lunch rang. But instead of joining the horde of students filing out my classroom, I pulled my lunchbox from beneath my desk and began unloading my usual haul onto my desk. Today?s lunch: grilled chicken, brown rice, an apple, cottage cheese, and a protein shake.

As I dug eagerly into my meal, I pulled up Google and typed ?swole?. The first result was a list of entries on UrbanDictionary, listing the term as everything from ?extremely muscular and buff? to ?being jacked?. Holy hell, is that how they really see me? I?m not even the big. They should see Charlie. I wonder what they?ll think when they see me at his size. The following results included Tumblr pages of all sorts of guys, from college wrestlers to professional bodybuilders and world-class strongmen. Look at these guys. Look at the size of their arms and chest. They?re fucking monsters. I didn?t know the human body could be augmented like that. The next few links tossed me over to YouTube videos of amateur bodybuilders posing in their underwear in front of bedroom mirrors or gym locker rooms, professional athletes demonstrating training circuits, grainy footage of competing bodybuilders. Why?ve I never seen any of this stuff before? This is incredible. Here was a whole online community, a veritable digital world, of men devoted to the male form in what was arguably its most powerful and aesthetically perfect form. I had opened a door and discovered treasures and pleasures the likes of which I had never imagined, let alone witnessed with my own eyes.

I will never be the same. The thought flashed in my mind as abruptly and fierce as summer lightning. It was swiftly followed by another: And I don?t want to be.

Here were men who had devoted their lives, privately or publicly, to attaining strength and physiques the likes of which their less developed and less committed peers could only dream of. Thanks to Charlie, I had tasted that devotion, that commitment to growth, and it had planted in me a seed that was growing as rapidly as I was. Perhaps faster.

Then let?s get down to it, shall we?

[Reeza]

It's great to see more of this story. Funny, charming, and sexy.

I can't believe you did this on your phone. That takes dedication.

[Mdlftr]

Originally Posted by dhalden

I will never be the same. The thought flashed in my mind as abruptly and fierce as summer lightning. It was swiftly followed by another: And I don?t want to be.

Here were men who had devoted their lives, privately or publicly, to attaining strength and physiques the likes of which their less developed and less committed peers could only dream of. Thanks to Charlie, I had tasted that devotion, that commitment to growth, and it had planted in me a seed that was growing as rapidly as I was. Perhaps faster.

Then let?s get down to it, shall we?

Amazing writing!

Thank you!

Mdlftr

[convolution]

Great chapter!
Thanks a lot for your great efforts ...
(I'm hoping Andy gets more than he bargained for)

[Tibo]

Thank you for taking up the hassle and posting these two installments!

I love you writing style and especially the re-occuring change in perspective, it adds so much depth to thr story.

I'm curious were all this is leading and I eagerly await the next installment.

PS I didn't know 'swole' either

[Anifanatic10]

Halloweens over but the treats are still coming. Thanks a lot! : )

[nicotico]

This was amazing! Keep it coming! Hope you solve your technical difficulties.

[dhalden]

?Come on?one more! That?s it?and?done!?

With a shuddering growl, Charlie racked the bar, sending a metallic clang through the gym. Although it was pre-dawn, two other people were in the gym that morning and I sensed them glancing toward Charlie and I exasperatedly, but neither of them said anything. Charlie, oblivious in the stupor of his pump, sat upright, his Under Armour shirt pulled stretched tautly across his chest. Instinctively, my heart skipped a beat as I stared at his chest. Damn, look at those babies. God bless the bench press. And indeed they did. As he panted and mopped his forehead free of sweat, I marveled at how his shirt stretched impossibly tighter around those hefty cushions of muscle. They must feel so heavy. What I wouldn?t give?

?Alright, Andy, your turn,? he said, standing. ?Get down there.?

I nodded and obediently settled onto the bench. In the month and a half that had passed since Charlie had begun commandeering nearly every free moment of my time outside of school, all of my inhibitions concerning the gym had melted away. Something about being his aura of assertiveness and confidence had infected me. If he said eat, I devoured. If he said exercise, I lifted.

As I adjusted my gloves, he adjusted the weight on the bar. I had made considerable gains in every area of my body and routine, but was still not lifting nearly as much weight as Charlie. Weight readjusted, he stepped behind my head, and stood over me. He looks like a giant. I can barely see his head over those perfect pecs of his. His leaned forward and his face appeared in full over me. Oh, spoke too soon.

?You ready, man?? I gripped the bar tight and gritted my teeth determinedly. I nodded. With a shaking growl that was not unlike Charlie?s, we hefted the bar off the rack and lowered it to my chest. My eyes met his. ?You?ve got this,? he said. ?Go.?

All at once, I released my burgeoning strength upon the bar and watched as it floated upward. Marveling at the sensation of my chest expanding in an influx of blood and oxygen, I lowered the bar again. Charlie?s face floated above mine, sweat-drenched and indomitable. You?ve got this, those eyes seemed to say. I?m here, but you?ve fucking got this. I felt the corner of my mouth pull into a grin as I forced out a second, third, fourth, and fifth repetition. My chest swelled larger. I could practically feel each individual cord of muscle flex, train, and burn.

?Squeeze,? Charlie growled at the top of every repetition. ?Get blood in those puppies. Pump ?em up!?

I ground my teeth harder and fought gravity for a seventh, eighth, and ninth repetition. But as I lowered the bar to my now inflamed and inflated chest, I furrowed my brow. I should be racking this thing by now, but?damn, it feels like it?s getting lighter. The struggle against gravity seemed to be swaying in my favor as I raised it for an eleventh rep. Charlie frowned. Hell, I could probably pump out another eight or nine reps?

?Stop stop stop,? Charlie said. I racked the weight. I stared up at him. ?You need to go heavier,? he said.

?What? How?s that possible? You just said I made a gains Monday. Let me get used to this first.?

?Looked to me like you?re already used to it, man. And you did makes gains Monday, but here it is Thursday and you?re ready for more.? He crossed to the weight rack and grabbed two 25 pound plates. ?You?re about to make this thing your bitch. You ready??

He?s ludicrous. There?s no way I can manage another fifty, even with him spotting me.

But a nagging, voiceless doubt wriggled in the back of my mind. It didn?t seem such an impossible feat if I considered it objectively. Not really. After all, the body was just a machine and weigh was just weight.

I nodded. ?Do it.?

That brilliant grin of his spread across his face and I tightened my gloves. Weights affixed to the bar, he helped me lift it off the rack and lower it to my chest. Oh for fuck?s sake that?s heavy. Our eyes met again and in his I saw my own resolute determination reflected. All at once, before the worm of doubt could rear its ugly head in my direction, I unleashed the power pent up in my invigorated pecs upon the bar.

For an infinitesimal second, the bar did not move.

And then, miraculously, it did. Sluggishly at first, as if I were moving in slow-motion, but then urged on by a painfully abrupt incursion of adrenaline-laced blood. Fire danced across my chest. Electricity crackled in my engorged fibers. The bar?s ascent shifted from first to third gear. A second repetition.

?Aaaarrrrrggghhh!? I screamed as the pain and power flowed. My pecs all at once felt full to popping, the muscle beneath straining the skin struggling to contain it. Oh god of fuck yeah feel that fuck it hurts so good. Another burning sweep of fire flushed across my chest and my chest swelled impossibly larger. A third repetition.

This is it. This is what I?ve been waiting f?

The bar plummeted.

There was a split second?s pang of terror before Charlie?s hands throttled the bar. He gnashed his teeth as he pulled it onto the rack, but the moment I was free of harm, he let out a barking laugh.

?Fuck yeah, buddy! You did it!?

He hauled me to my feet by the collar of my shirt and slapped my chest. I grimaced.

?I knew you could do it! What?d I tell you? You were a fucking beast just then, Andy!?

My head was swimming though as my body struggled to reregulate my blood flow. Even still, I could feel it seeping into my chest. I tottered toward the bathroom.

?Hey, Andy, you okay?? Charlie asked, jumping to my side. ?Take a seat.?

?No, I?m fine?? I panted, waving him off. ?I just?need?bathroom??

He seemed reluctant, but seeing as the men?s room was only a few yards away, he let me go. I crashed through the door and locked it behind me. Stumbling toward the sink, I rested against it, the icy porcelain shockingly electric against my hot palms. I met my own gaze in the mirror.

My shirt was off in two seconds flat.

?...fuck.?

My chest looked grotesquely out of proportion with the rest of my body. The sheer size and heft of my pecs astounded me. They were nearly doubly as large as they had been that morning. They grew inexplicably larger with every breath, the striations flashing across them. I winced as my skin strained to contain them. And they were frighteningly red too, almost sunburnt looking. When I pressed a finger into my right pec, a fleeting white negative was left behind. Here goes nothing. Thoughts of masochism flashed through my mind as I flexed. A soft, surprised gasp of pain escaped my lips as the striations deepened and the fibers hardened. I turned parallel to the mirror and examined them from the side. Look how thick they are, I marveled. My torso was easily six inches thicker through my back and chest than it had been a month and a half ago. At least half of that was carried in my chest.
I faced the mirror again. That inconceivable pump was fading fast. Already my bizarrely inflated pecs were shrinking back to a more proportionate size. I flexed them again and winced.

I think Chest Day?s my new favorite day.

[Reeza]

The angel on my shoulder says, "Wow! That was so hot, it makes me want to start lifting weights."

Then the devil on the other side says, "That's crazy talk! I can just read dhalden's description of weight lifting. Yeah . . . I feel the burn already."

Thanks for another uplifting experience.

[convolution]

This chapter reminded me of this page from Adore.com on Appreciation:



To Appreciate means to get bigger,

to expand, to increase.
You appreciate people
by causing them to appreciate.
To expand, to get bigger, to increase.
To prosper and to flourish.
To be enhanced and to be empowered.
In return people express their gratitude to you,
with Thank You's and return appreciation
in the form of effort to help you appreciate.
Appreciate means to get bigger, not to thank.
Gratitude is expression of Thank You
for appreciation.


I greatly appreciate your writing

[nnnrg]

Andy, get back out there and get to work on the rest of your muscles. Otherwise you're gonna look like a douche.

[Mdlftr]

Originally Posted by nnnrg

Andy, get back out there and get to work on the rest of your muscles. Otherwise you're gonna look like a douche.

I dunno....a hyooge chest has much to recommend it!

Just ask Ahnuld, Lou "the HULK" Ferrigno" .....all those 'muscle sighting' people!

But I get what you're saying: he needs to work his legs, back, butt, arms and calves also!

I'm sure Charlie will leave nothing to chance.....

Great workout descriptions!

Mdlftr

[dhalden]

With one long, last thrust he buried the full length of himself deep inside of her, planted his face between her breasts, and growled as his heavy load escaped him.

"Yes yes oh yes," she whimpered, relishing in the aftermath. Charlie, sturdy hands planted on the headboard, balanced himself over her. Sweat dripped from his brow. Slowly he began removing himself from her, when suddenly...

"Not just yet, mister," she said, her legs locking around him. He chuckled warmly; inwardly, he frowned coldly. He had never been a fan of the "afterglow of affection" that followed a particularly spectacular fucking. Granted, he probably was the most ripped and hung specimen this housewife presently pinned beneath him would ever have the pleasure of screwing (his cock began regaining its rigidity at the thought), but he was just as much the profiteer behind the curtains as he was performer center stage. A job was just a job, however much it allowed him to get off. He released his grip from the headboard, clasped her legs, and released himself from her trappings. She chuckled, finding it playful, and he bristled inside.

"You were so strong," she cooed. "Gary's always so gentle. Like he's afraid he'll hurt me or something. As if he could. That man's weaker than a toothpick." She reached out and gripped his softening cock in her hand. "He'd pay for a tool like yours."

This was their third session, Charlie thought, and it was ending with the same mantra: "Violet", as she called herself, rehashing her husband's shortcomings. What guy wouldn't come up short by comparison though? He had yet to meet a man who rivaled him in musculature or cocksmanship.

When she had gone (planting a kiss on his cheek that he pretended to enjoy), he sat on the edge of the bed and began scrolling through his phone, still stark naked. He had another appointment in an hour.

"Damn," he grumbled. Lately, it seemed as if Tony had been scheduling his clients closer and closer together. He hardly had time to relax and regain gusto before the next woman arrived. He was good, he thought, but not that good. He wondered not for the first time if perhaps Tony were exacting some cruel punishment on him (though, he had to admit, he'd never been sorry yet that he'd gotten his rocks off). But why?

Because she knows, he thought. Or suspects.

A month and a half had passed since she had joined her agency. That was a month and a half's worth of work, pay...and the mysterious drug NPH-01. The latter amounted to roughly five vials of the clear liquid, only one of which he had taken. Two he had given to Andy, and the last he had stowed in the glove compartment of his car. There was no conceivable way that the vulture of a bitch Tony could know he was refusing and rerouting the dosages she was giving him. Yet...

Why the emergency meeting?

As if sensing his train of thought, the door of the hotel room swung wide and in she swooped, bag in hand, venomous grin across her face.

"I could have been with a client," he said sourly.

"Please. I've been in the lobby for an hour. I saw that porky housewife of yours toddle out five minutes ago. Props though: she looked absolutely glowing."

He stared at her coldly. "Any particular reason you're here? Finally decided to give me a test ride?"

"I just ate. Don't make me laugh."

You're just scared, he thought. You know I'd ruin that little cunt of yours. A dark smile formed on his lips at the thought, one that he did little to conceal. He watched her like a cat watches a moth as she rifled through her bag and withdrew what he recognized as yet another vial.

"Any changes to report, yet?" she asked, rolling the vial in her palm.

"Beyond the expected? No."

She frowned. "Really? Well, that strikes me as odd. Do you want to know why?" He rolled his eyes as she took a step toward him, practically straddling him where he sat. "This magic little drug's a special recipe that has special little magic results. It's strikes me as funny that you should say you haven't experienced any effects beyond the 'expected' results because...you're not exhibiting any expected results so far as I can tell."

His eyes met hers. "Take for example these pythons of yours." She brushed his arms with her fingertips; he envisioned them imbibed with venom. "You've got yourself a pretty impressive set of guns. Definitely a set most men would kill for. They must be pushing...seventeen inches? Eighteen?" Her nails dug into his arms and he flexed them instinctively, fighting the intrusion. "Just about the same size they were the first time I laid eyes on them."

He frowned. "They've plateaued."

"Perhaps," she said, shrugging. Her hands floated sensually up his shoulders, her fingers dancing over his traps, before making their descent over his heavy pecs. "And these?" She flicked his nipples, electric currents of pleasure forcing them instantly erect. "Doubtlessly big, but...bigger than before? I think not."

By now he was gritting his teeth angrily, his perfectly refined jaw rolling back and forth. So the shit she'd been supplying was some sort of growth hormone. Andy's swift growth had been proof enough, certainly, but now he was hearing it straight from the bitch's mouth. So...now what? What was the worst she could do? Sentence him to a marathon fuck session? How terrible, he thought, and snorted bemusedly.

"Chuckle away," she said.

Oh, I am, bitc?

There was a sudden, sharp, biting sensation in his thigh. He winced, cursed beneath his breath, and before he could push her away, she stood and backed away. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the gleaming hypodermic needle in her hands. He stared down at his broad, muscled thigh and the red dot that blemished it.

"What the fuck?!"

"Oops," she said. "I've always been a bit of a sadomasochist." He started to stand, fists balled, but she swept down upon him hastily, pinning him to the bed. She was surprisingly strong, given her size. "Listen up, stud. You work for me now. You're not just a whore anymore. You're my whore. And if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a whore that won't obey. So here's the deal: if I say fuck, you fuck. And if I say drink, you drink. Otherwise it's the needle, understand?"

Hellfire burned in his eyes, but he merely nodded, the pencil-thick cords of muscle in his neck straining with the effort.

"Good dog," she said, and patted his cheek. She was off of him as swiftly as she had descended. He sat up slowly, in an effort to contain his fury and the litany of profanities pent up in his throat. Every vein in his neck throbbed with anger. The needle and vial of NPH-01 had vanished into her bag once again.

"In case you're wondering," she said, fixing her lipstick in the mirror on the back of the door. "That was an extra-concentrated dose. A disciplinary dose, I like to call it." She blew him a venomous kiss over her shoulder. "Now go get cleaned up. You're next session will start soon."

[Reeza]

Interesting developments. Sounds like something big will be happening soon. I hope Andy gets to witness it along with the rest of us.

You have been prolific lately. So many new chapters! Not that I'm complaining. Thanks for this story and for sharing your time and talent here.

[Mdlftr]

O.k., so I like things explained a bit:


Charlie is a male prostitute, or gigolo. He works for a woman named "Tony" who is giving him the magic growth elixir/magic serum/steroids/hgh/NPH-01/macguffin to move the story along.

Charlie, for reasons unexplained, is living with a high school classmate named Andy, who is a stereotypically skinny, closeted, gay high school English teacher. Charlie has been slipping Andy some of the growth drugs and Andy is growing.

Andy is generally clueless about why he's growing, whether or not Charlie likes him, and whether or not to come out of the closet.

There are a few other people around, including the former-prostitute-who-is-best-friends-with-the-closeted-gay-guy.

The story is told mostly from the point of view of the closeted gay guy. The implication is that he has limited his life choices and is not fulfilled in his career, his sex life or his self esteem. The visiting friend is mysterious and seems successful- he's handsome, built and seems to be self-sufficient.


Interesting telling of an otherwise fairly routine trope: so when does the muscle growth start getting overwhelming?

Does the magic elixir make men more likely to have sex with women? Wouldn't THAT be a truly unusual twist in the usual "gay sex is the answer" storyline?

It's not that this story is poorly written. It's just that is seems to have the same old background: every man is gay, or wants to be gay, until proven otherwise. Heterosexual sex is a chore, or a job, or undertaken for business.

How about focusing more on the muscle growth in a muscle growth forum??

[nzbodybuilder]

Mdlftr, give the guy a break. It's getting there. If you're going to complain about one story not having enough growth, then please be consistent and complain on every single story that has NO growth.

Thank you.

[Relgrub]

I, for one, think the story is going great. It's the authors journey, we're just along for the ride. Let him take us where he pleases.