Home From College — Part 6 (The End)

[tekuno]

All right, here we are with the final chapter. Hope you like it!

Oh, wait — first, here are links to the other chapters for you:

Musclegod300's Original Parts

[One] | [Two] | [Three]

My Continuation

[Four] | [Five] | [Six]


Home From College
Part 6

*****

I had never really wanted to be muscular, before. My sex life at college had been good enough for me — the jocks I lusted after either didn't care whether I was a jock, too, or else weren't up for gay sex anyway. So bodybuilding, for me, had always seemed like something which would be a waste of time — not for other people, I liked seeing bodybuilders, but for me specifically.

But Dad changed that perception pretty thoroughly. It was obvious that he could have had any man in the entire auditorium, officially gay or not, from looking like he did. So obviously if I could get big like him, I could do the same.

I filled a glass with water, and headed to the bathroom. I looked at my reflection. Big like Dad? Would that ever happen? I flexed an arm and noted the almost total lack of visible difference between "flexed" and "unflexed". Well, maybe I couldn't shoot for Dad's kind of development, but I could at least hope for some improvement. Particularly if, as I now remembered, I shared Dad's genes — and his reaction to the drug. I grinned and opened the bottle.

The pills were little gelatine capsules, about half an inch long. The bottle contained something like 200 of them, as far as I could tell. (Naturally, it had no label.)

Well, now: Harris said to take one every eight hours to boost my healing capacity. How many more would be safe? I thought about it. Two every four hours, maybe? Three? I didn't want to overdose... then again, I suddenly realized with a pang, a life without being at least in the range of what Dad had been like yesterday, when I got home, just didn't appeal to me any more. I wanted to be big, and it suddenly didn't bother me to think of dying in the attempt.

I decided on three pills every four hours. I swallowed three, therefore, then ran to the kitchen and mixed up... a little of everything, really. All Dad's supplements, except the ones specifically labelled "post-workout".

He was right, it really was like mashed potatoes when you got everything together. I swilled down the nasty-tasting mess as fast as I could — unlike Dad, I couldn't afford to waste a single calorie, so I took care not to let any leak — and then dropped the glass in the sink and ran upstairs to the gym and started doing exercises. I was actually puffing at the top of the stairs, thanks to the massive lump in my stomach. I could see my midsection bulging out a little in the mirror.

Thank goodness I had gone to the gym a few times at school; otherwise some of the machines would have totally baffled me. As it was, I was unsurprised (but a little disappointed) to discover that I had to lower every single weight setting almost all the way to nothing to be able to make the machines move at all.

After 15 enthusiastic minutes in which nothing seemed to happen, I felt my stomach sort of give a squeeze. I wondered if that was the pills getting absorbed, but the workout still didn't seem to be going anywhere. 15 more minutes, and I was starting to get a little discouraged.

Maybe the pills weren't going to work on me, after all? Or maybe the effects were cumulative, and it would take months for me to get into Dad's range after all? (The way Dad had apparently been growing by pure willpower suggested that that couldn't really be true, though...) I sat for a minute, looking at my reflection in the mirrors. I didn't seem to be any buffer, and if anything I looked worse than usual because I was so exhausted and sweaty.

I sat for a few more minutes, thinking. Well, there was no point in giving up so quickly. The thought of Dad's body still got me hard almost instantly, and I still wanted something like that for myself. I'd give it another try. I sat down at the lat pulldown station and started working away.

About halfway through the set, I started to get a second wind. Oddly enough, it didn't occur to me that that might be the pills working — I just suddenly wanted to work really hard. I didn't even look at the mirrors again, I just went around the machines, doing set after set and feeling better and better.

It wasn't until I got to the dumbbells, to do curls, that I looked in the mirror, and discovered that there were some changes — very slight ones. My subcutaneous fat had receded a little, and simultaneously I had filled out just slightly. I doubt if the difference would have been visible to anyone else, but I knew what I looked like from shaving in the mirror, and this was an improvement.

I did a few sets of curls and arm extensions, and then flexed my arms in the mirror. There was actually a visible muscle there now! It wasn't big — it barely changed size at all as the arm bent — but it was a start! I was just looking at the rest of my body and reflecting how much better I looked already when my stomach rumbled, and I realized it was flat again. I had digested the whole mess of stuff already! I grinned, and headed downstairs.

As I passed through the living room, I saw that Dad had left his tape measure sitting out. I grabbed it, and after I had another round of supplements, I took a few measurements. Even I was sneering at the numbers, by that time. Even with the results starting to show, I was pathetic: 14-and-a-half-inch arms, like twigs, a 14-inch pencil neck, a 31-inch chest, just barely bigger than my 30-inch waist, and I didn't even bother measuring my thighs, they were so skinny. I did measure my dick, though — I thought about Dad and was hard right away, and found I was 5 and a half inches.

I didn't sleep that night. All through the night, and the entire next day, I went downstairs and loaded up on calories — Dad had quite a stock of food and supplements around, as long as you didn't want anything fresh — and then headed back up to the gym. Every four hours, I made sure to take another three pills. On the second trip down, two hours in, I took a detour into the basement, and took out all the meat from the chest freezer to defrost, and so all through the day I was feasting on meat and frozen veggies.

I avoided looking in the mirror. I was there to build muscle, not stare at my reflection. And I was building muscle. As time passed, I could see my limbs thickening, and I had to keep adjusting the weights on exercises. I must have done hundreds and hundreds, maybe thousands, of sit-ups, curls, bench presses (regular, incline, and decline — Dad's bench was adjustable), tricep extensions... I could feel the energy fizzing in my body.

The sun was setting when I came up from the largest meal yet — nearly half a ham, a bag of frozen peas, and a cup of sugar mixed into nearly all of the remaining supplements. I decided to give myself a treat by looking at the mirror again, while the light was still available.

I was pretty incredible. Nowhere near Dad's level, of course, but my clothing was nearly skin-tight on me now. I tried to pull Dad's trick and flex out of it, but I wasn't quite there yet. Still, I was doing pretty well. I looked like a gym rat now. A beginner one, but still...

My measurements reflected that. My arms were up to 17 inches now — quite an improvement! My neck was 16 inches, and my chest was now 40, while my waist seemed to have shrunk half an inch! My dick was still only 6 inches, though, which was disappointing considering what the pills had done for Dad.

Still, I was nowhere near done! I got back to work, and in another couple hours I had the pleasure of hearing stitches start to pop. I jogged to the local grocery and bought all the bodybuilding supplements they had in stock, and then took 3 more pills when I got home.

At about 1:30 in the morning, my shirt finally blew off, and I grinned. I tried flexing some more in the mirror, but although I was now getting pretty impressive — I had caught up with some of my jock friends, and then some! — I still couldn't make myself bigger just by flexing. I wanted that. The bigger I got, the bigger I wanted to be. I wanted to be as big as Dad had become. Bigger. I wanted to be so big that Dad would be dwarfed. I couldn't help myself, I flexed a while and jacked off my now-7-inch cock, thinking of getting bigger.

Suddenly, I felt incredibly tired. I decided to sleep in Dad's bed — the sofa bed just didn't seem inviting after all that work.

I woke up feeling dead tired. A look in the mirror confirmed that the growth was real; if anything, I looked like I had gained a little more while I was asleep. The tape measure said my arms were 20 inches now, with an 18-inch neck, a 46-inch torso, and — I licked my lips — a 7-and-a-half-inch cock. Dammit, why wasn't that growing faster?

I went downstairs and looked at the bottle of pills. This was taking too fucking long! I looked at myself in the mirror, and came to a decision. I poured the rest of the pills straight into my mouth, washed them down with a glass of water, went in and ransacked the kitchen, and headed back upstairs.

I was just getting back to work when there was a crash which shook the whole house, and heavy footsteps downstairs. I had just gotten into the leg press, and it took me a minute to get out, so I heard the footsteps walk around and climb the stairs.

Dad came into view through the door just as I finally got to my feet. Sort of. The doors were 80 inches tall — six feet, eight inches. Dad's mouth was just barely visible at the top. He stood there for a minute, and then broke into a smile, and just walked forward. The door frame stood no chance. He burst through the wall like Juice-Aid Man... but much more erotic.

Dad was a fucking behemoth. At a guess, with the doorframe as a clue, he was probably over seven feet, maybe two to four inches more. He was even more massive than he had been before. His lats were so huge now that his arms — they looked like they were around fifty inches! — couldn't get any closer to his sides than a "relaxed" bodybuilding pose, although he reached up and scratched his chin so he wasn't immobile. (The sight of his enormous pec flexing to pull up his arm made me start dripping precum into my shorts.) The "arc" I had noticed, the half-circle which led from one enormous hand, up his long, thick arm, through the beachballs which were his delts and the gigantic curves of his traps, and then back down the other side, was even more pronounced, and almost drew attention away from his bloated pecs.

And he was hairy — incredibly so. You almost couldn't see his pecs any more, they were buried in it. He seemed to have shaved his jaw, though — there was only stubble there, not a beard. That was good; a beard would have hidden the definition of his face, and his jawbone had thickened, making his face look unbelievably sexy and dominant. He looked at me and grinned, and then spoke. His voice made small objects rattle, it was so powerful now.

"Huh, trying to get big like your old man? Good job, Scott!" That was a relief; I was afraid he wouldn't approve, and in our current respective states, he could probably swat me like a bug. "You got my good genes. Too many fucking runts out there. Been fucking a lot, lately. You'd think guys would be tough enough to take a cock, but only the bodybuilders can even handle just the head without passing out. I'm so fucking horny you wouldn't believe it."

I looked down. The only clothing Dad was wearing now was a pair of cutoff daisy dukes. They looked like they had started off as a full set of jeans and he had grown into them, or more accurately out of them. The fly and button weren't fastened — I doubt they even could be fastened any more, Dad's glutes were huge and his torso was so thick — and Dad's cock stuck out of a forest of hair. It was hard, of course, and pointing straight at me, and only the incredible mass of his body had kept me from noticing. It looked like it had to be around 16 inches, now, and thick like a beercan. His testicles also hung out of the front; it was hard to tell through all the hair, but they looked like they were around the size of tennis balls now.

"Like what you see, Scott? Of course you do!" Dad walked closer to me. "You already told me you thought I was sexy. Gotta be even better now, haha! How about I let you have a little ride on your old Daddy's cock?"

I was panicking, and also hit with conflicting emotions, to be honest. A little corner of my mind was disgusted by the thought, most of my mind was consumed with lust, I was afraid he'd tear me to shreds with that thing, I wanted to be even bigger than that, myself... in the end, the only part of my brain which could think of any sort of verbal response managed to get hold of my mouth.

"Dad, have you been walking around like that? With your dick hanging out?"

Dad sneered at me. "Yeah, of course. Think I want to cover it up? I'm real fucking man, now, Scott. Thought you were joining me. God, it feels so good. Anyway, what kind of cop could possibly stop me?" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Haha, I know just what you need!"

He turned and stomped back out of the room, breaking some more of the wall as he passed through the hole where the door used to be. I heard him break through another wall down the hall, and then he came back.

"You aren't big enough yet to understand me. Gotta be fucking huge to know what it's like. There's nothing like it, not even sex." He opened his huge hand, and I saw that he had two more bottles in it. "Gonna turn you into a fucking stud, like me." He popped the screw-on tops off with his thumb and reached to me with his other hand.

"Dad, wait, I—" That was as far as I got before he had my jaw in his hand. He held my mouth open and poured the bottles in. Then he carried me to the bathroom, and poured a glass of water down after them.

"There. That'll get you growing, all right. And now it's time for you to help me." He pushed his way into the bedroom, and tossed me on the bed. "God, everything is so fucking small now! Can't wait 'til you're big. But in the meantime... Gotta take care of this fucking hard-on!" He flexed his dick, and I swear it once again bulged bigger. "Brace yourself, Scott, here I come!"

With that, Dad practically threw himself on top of me. I felt the most incredible pain in my ass. I'm really not sure; if it hadn't been for the pills, it's possible I might have died. I yelled, but Dad wasn't listening. He was thrusting in and out with all his massive power. I could smell the musk of his incredible body as he pounded into me with irresistible force.

After a little while, it stopped hurting — the pills, I guess — and then it started to feel good. Really good. Better and better. By the time Dad growled "Flex your fucking ass, Scott! Tighter!" I had regained enough self-control to do that. It simultaneously seemed like eternity and nowhere near long enough when Dad finally bellowed and came. I could feel his sperm flooding me, and then he pulled out.

"Ah, that felt great. Probably feel even better next time. Keep working, Scott. Gotta catch up to your old man, haha!"

My head was starting to cloud up, but I managed to say "Wait, where are you going?"

Dad looked back at me with a sneer. He flexed, and his whole body jumped in size, an extra inch in every way. "You think that's enough for me? Gotta keep fucking, Scott. That's what a body like this is for."

He stomped off down the stairs, and I passed out.

I was awakened some time later — I'm really not sure exactly how long — by a phone ringing. I got up without thinking and answered it with a growl.

"Scott? Is that you?"

"Yeah, what?" Harris. That fucking idiot. Why was he bothering me?

"It's Harris. Your Dad... he's here at our gym. He's... well, he's, uh, having sex. A lot of it."

"So?" If Dad wanted sex, who cared where he got it? That was his prerogative. Although I hoped he'd come back and share.

"So we need to stop him. He's not in the locker rooms, he's out on the gym floor. I'll come get you, maybe we can talk him down from it."

He hung up. Dad was right; he was a fucking jackass. I stomped out of the bedroom and through the hole in the wall to the gym, to look at myself in the mirrors.

I was disappointed. I was still such a fucking pussy, like the jocks at my school. Well, okay, I was bigger than them, now, but dammit, I should be like Dad.

I picked up the tape measure and checked myself. 22-inch arms? Big fucking deal. I could do better than that. 19-inch neck... why wasn't it thicker? My chest was 53, now. That was nothing! At least my waist was still only 28 and my dick was up to 9 inches. I scratched my chin — it was covered with stubble. Maybe I should shave before Harris showed up. I wanted to see if my face looked different. It looked like it might.

I shaved myself clean, and looked at my reflection. I shook my head. Of course, compared with my old self, or even some of the men I had fucked, I looked like liquid sex cast in a human mold. But that wasn't the point. Dammit, I should be huge! Biggest fucking man in the world!

I flexed in the mirror, a double-bi. My arms looked so small and pathetic. I flexed harder and harder, gritting my teeth. I could feel that there was more in me than those tiny little muscles reflected. After I had held the pose for about two minutes solid, pushing it as hard as I could, I could see the peaks of my biceps rise, just a little.

"Fuck yeah!" I yelled, and then flexed even harder. I saw my arms bulge even more, my shoulders thickened... It felt so fucking good, I was going to be fucking huge!

The doorbell rang, breaking my concentration. I growled, and then pulled on a shirt, some sandals, and a pair of Dad's shorts and stomped down to answer the door.

"Jesus Christ!" Harris took a step back when I answered the door.

"What?" I didn't feel like wasting a lot of words on this jackass. I was going to be bigger than him soon. Every minute I spent with him was a minute wasted.

"Wow, those pills are really working!" Harris reached out and grabbed my arm. His were still bigger, dammit!

"Yeah."

He must have noticed that I wasn't exactly enthusiastic, because he let go. "Okay, let's get going."

Harris drove us to the gym in silence. "You're getting pretty big. Maybe if you can't talk him into coming with, the two of us can overpower him."

Idiot. Like a twig like him could overpower Dad. Maybe I could do it, after I let the power inside me out a little more. But why would we want to do that? Dad was a fucking sex god, an irresistible force. I just grunted, and got out of the car.

Harris pushed past me, and talked to the woman at the desk. They waved me through, and I headed into the gym.

Dad was in the weight area. He was surrounded by men and women. Some of them — nearly all the women, and a few of the men — were passed out on the floor. He was, inevitably, fucking a big bodybuilder's ass — well, big for a bodybuilder who wasn't Dad — while the others felt his muscles, rubbing, massaging... spontaneously cumming...

I stomped up. "Hey, Dad."

"Looking good, Scott, but not big enough yet!"

I looked at myself in the mirrors with contempt. "Just you wait, Dad. I'll be caught up to you soon."

Dad laughed. "That's my boy. Get to work, then."

I nodded, and started flexing. I started with a most-muscular. I flexed harder and harder. I could feel the power gathering in my arms and chest and traps... even my shoulders. Harder and harder... I was staring to sweat, my face was turning red. Veins started to stand out on my body.

Finally, I started to grow. The first visible sign was that my shoulders started to broaden, just a little. Then my arms got a little thicker. My pecs stood out slightly more. I flexed even harder. The growth continued. It was very slight, but accelerating. I heard noises around me, Dad's worshippers were saying something, but I didn't even bother to pay attention. I was going to grow, now, dammit!

Bigger! Bigger! Bigger! My arms thickened more. My chest bulged with power. My delts inflated. I could see my head slowly rising higher in the air as my body started to get taller, too. My cock, already hard, throbbed, and I could see it gradually pushing outward as well.

I had never been hairy, but in the mirror I could see my arms start to sprout hair. My chest began to grow a dusting of hairs as well. I felt so good I could hardly stand it, I finally roared out as my dick spasmed out an orgasm, throwing my semen all the way to the mirror.

"Pretty good, Scott." Dad put one of his hands on my shoulder. He was still about a foot taller than me. My muscles were a smaller echo of his — I could tell I was on my way, but he was still my superior — for now. Even his cock was so much larger than mine as it stood in front of him.

"Not done yet! Gotta get fucking huge!" I looked around, there had to be something here to challenge me. I ran over to a curl machine, and set the weight stack to the maximum. It was barely noticeable. I yelled in frustration. "Too light! Where's the real weight?"

I ran to a bench, stacked the bar as full of 100-pound plates as it would go, and picked it up. I curled it a few times before dropping it back on the rack. "Still too fucking light! I've got to grow! Where's the fucking weight?" I looked around frantically, and finally walked over to one of those multi-station machines, the ones with rowing and lat pulldowns and so on. I reached out and grabbed the pipes the machines was built from, and gave a push. The metal practically tore off in my hand. I grinned. In a few moments, I wrapped the whole machine up into a ball, and curled that, using grips buried inside. I could see in the mirror that my body was expanding again, my shoulders getting broader, my arms getting bigger...

I could also see that Dad was smiling, and jacking off to my performance. I finally felt the weight get so light I could tell I was getting nothing out of it, and tossed it on the floor. I mounted it, and crushed it between my thighs, destroying the metal like it was styrofoam in a vise, while throwing a double-biceps pose. My arms were up to about 35 inches now.

"More! I need more!" I looked around. There was nothing in the gym which would provide any more resistance than that machine had... except my Dad. He was superior to it all.

"Dad! Get your ass over here and wrestle with me!"

Dad looked a little startled, but he grinned and walked over. "Okay, Scott, if you say so."

I yelled, and jumped on him. Before he could stop me, I was on his back, bracing my feet against his massive back and pulling on his massive neck. "Heh. Clever." Dad reached up for my hands, and started to pull them apart. I roared and flexed. Dad watched me indulgently in the mirror. I could feel his hands pulling mine apart, and I strained my hardest to keep them together. I was sweating and bright red, just like Dad had been, and sure enough the growth started up.

It was faster than before. It was like a door which had previously been chained shut was now thrown all the way open. I could feel the mass slamming into my body, and Dad's grin faded as I grew. Soon I was standing on the floor, and although Dad's arms were still bigger than mine, I was gaining fast.

My head inched upward as my body took on inhuman proportions. My muscles swelled and grew, and hair pushed out of my chest, arms, armpits, abs, crotch... I was reaching Dad's size, now, and I couldn't get enough of this power.

I was grinning at Dad in the mirror. I started to rub my cock against his ass as I flexed. Finally, I let go of his neck and put my arms under his, pulling back against his torso as the power filled me, pushing me larger and larger. I lifted him off the floor just like he had lifted Harris. He started to moan as my cock enlarged against his ass, and began to push inside. When I finally put him down, it was obvious: I was now bigger than him, taller than him, more powerful than him... I roared again in victory, pushed him to the floor, and got on top of him.

"Payback time, Dad! Hope you like this as much as I did!" And then I started fucking him. It was fantastic; Dad's ass was pretty much the ultimate. He roared and bucked as I fucked him, squeezing his ass, trying to clamp down on my 20-inch-and-growing cock. But he wasn't strong enough to stop me, and I finally came with another roar. Then I lifted him off the floor, still impaled on my dick. We faced the mirror, and for the first time I realized we were ringed by Dad's worshippers. I was at least a foot taller than him now. As far as I could tell under the beard, my face was now even more broad-jawed and hyper-masculine and beautiful than Dad's. He had a delirious smile on his face, and I wrapped my arms around his chest, giving him a hug.

"Feels good?" My voice was a match for his now, too, and then some; I had intended that to be a whisper, but it was a growl which filled the whole gym. He nodded, and I gave him a kiss on the back of his traps.

Just about then, Harris burst through the doors, followed by four policemen, three of them in riot gear. They were tiny — puny little bugs, and all of them were instantly hard looking at me and Dad with our ultra-masculine, godlike bodies.

"You caught him! Great! Let's take him to the lab now!" Harris was gleeful. I sneered down at him. I pulled my cock out of Dad, with an audible pop, and put him back down on the floor. Then I shot out an arm and grabbed Harris by the shirt front, and lifted him up to my face.

"Fucking pussy. You think you can take Dad? From now on, Dad and I do as we please. If you're a good little slave, you get to survive. Got that?" My voice actually made him come spontaneously. I tossed him down. One of the policemen had a gun out and shot me, and the bullet flattened against my left pec, but didn't penetrate the skin. I grinned. Within 15 seconds, Dad and I had all the policemen stripped naked.

Dad and I stood in front of them. "KNEEL!" Dad shouted, and they all got down on their knees. He turned to me. "Not bad, huh?"

"Not bad at all, Dad." I kissed him. "Now hurry up and grow. It's your turn, now."

Dad nodded, and flexed his beautiful body. He grew to my size — practically the only difference visible was that his beard had some gray in it. We were absolutely godlike, giant muscles bulging under a layer of supremely thick hair, and our two-foot cocks stood erect in front of us over testicles like softballs. I got down on my knees, and leaned over, waving my inhuman ass in the air.

As he fucked me, he spoke. "God, this is the ultimate fuck. Better than anything! Best I had with Denise was nothing like as good. So, do we keep fucking like this, now, or conquer the world?"

I gave him a smile in the mirror, and flexed myself a few inches larger. He moaned as the pressure on his cock increased, as my mammoth ass became even greater.

"Yes."

[The End]

[Kit Werecat]

Fun Ending!

I always love it when the Titans hug, wave, and live happily ever after, looking down at the rest of the little ones.

Looking forward to your next project.

[xboy]

The ultimate 'Roid Rage!

And that's a great continue of Musclegod300's story. God. The Dad is a monster!!! Great work!