Chapter 2
I had played soccer all through highschool and volleyball and tennis in college. After graduating and moving into New York I did kickball, bowling and softball. All those sports were with the gay leagues.I guess I have to admit I have a bit of a competitive streak in me, because I’ve always been pretty strong at sports.
So pretty much all my life I have been in shape. Skinny, but in shape. Before I started lifting seriously I was about 165 lbs or so. And I had lifted on and off for years to supplement my workouts on the field. I knew what to do, but Eric really got me into it. He showed me new lifts I didn’t know anything about, corrected my form, taught me how to really eat. It was awesome to get so much help from a seasoned lifter who really knew how to build mass.
Eric put me onto a 6-day split, with one rest day a week. My routine otherwise was pretty normal. He bought me a special bag to carry my meals with me so I was able to get out and do my reporting for the New Gotham Weekly while still having my meals prepped and ready to eat whenever I needed them. Eric encouraged me to follow my passion- to write. He was so supportive of me. I quit my part time office manager gig. I never cared much for stocking office supplies anyway. I was going to be dedicated to writing, eating and lifting.
Those first few weeks were such a rush. I was hitting the weights with this renewed passion and I was feeling pumped about it. I told Eric I wanted to take progress pictures, since I knew I’d be starting a cycle soon. I had it in my head that I could create what Jonas’ master had created in that photo album. That was an idea I couldn’t get out of my head. So Eric took my “before” pics.
After the first week of my cycle, already feeling the effects and all the food, we took a second set of pics. My libido was through the roof and I was eating around the clock. The difference was noticeable.
I went from 165 at the start of the week to 172 by the end. By my second week all my lifts were going up. It was incredible. Later on that second week I saw some friends of mine out and they commented on my build, saying I looked a little bigger. I got the “You’ve been working out” comment everyone secretly loves getting.
I kept fueling my workouts with prepped meals. The first few days I could only get 6 in during the course of the day, but with Eric’s help I kept pushing. By the end of the week I was eating 8 prepped meals a day. It was incredible. I was so motivated to keep pushing, and Eric was just encouraging me. By the end of the second week it was up to about 9 meals a day, all packed in tupperware and made of variations of past, chicken, rice, quinoa, fish and steak. They really were delicious. I ate them steadily so I never felt too full to keep going. I thought of Jonas and how he was always eating. Now I was starting to do the same. Thoughts kept flooding my mind about how big I was going to get. I kept envisioning Jonas and his 25” arms. His lumbering, massive frame. I wanted that. All of a sudden I really wanted that.
The days passed along and I found myself in a new routine. One that centered me around my gym and my kitchen. I still kept up my outings to to local sporting events and with more time to focus on writing my little feature pieces for the New Gotham Weekly were turning out well. I was half tempted to ask for more work from the Weekly, but I decided against making myself too busy. I needed to keep up with my meal plan.
During the first week of training the pre-made meal shipments only came in twice a week. By the third week they were coming four times a week, which is what it is like today, only with larger boxes.
I stopped going out to the bars, so I think my bar friends missed me a bit, but I saw folks out during lunch. By the third week I was already getting close to 180 lbs. I went out and grabbed lunch with a buddy of mine and he mentioned I looked bigger. My sleeves had gotten tighter on my medium size shirts. I remember the thrill of realizing that I would soon have to graduate to large shirts.
As the weeks ticked by I’d see friends here and there, and I’d still get reporting done. All the while I was pushing myself constantly to eat more and more and hitting the gym hard. On the day I broke 185 I got a note from Jonas asking for me to meet up with him again. Part of me was excited to show up a full 20 lbs heavier and see if he noticed.
He changed the time of my meet up with him and I ended up showing up bright in the morning. This time he answered the door fully clothed, but that didn’t do anything to hide his tremendous bulk.
Jonas was larger, I could tell immediately. It had been several weeks and it was visible. His XXXL shirt was straining to hold together.
“I’ve taken your advice. I’m trying to get out more.” He said “I finally bought new clothes. I’m up to 340 lbs now.” I became surprisingly excited just hearing that. My ears definitely perked up. I got hard looking at all the mass standing in front of me, seeing how much bigger he had become. Part of me wondered why it was turning me on so much, but the other part just wanted to enjoy it.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go for a walk. I’m trying to get outside more. It’s clearing my mind” Jonas said.
I agreed, and this massive hulking man sauntered out of the door, slow heavy footsteps trodding down the stairs of his apartment. Because of the sheer muscle mass, every movement caused his muscles to visibly flex, even with a shirt and sweatpants. He complained of how his size slowed him down. He couldn’t even run anymore. He tried to demonstrate and again it was a total turn on. When he started to jog his massive thighs just rolled around each other, fighting for space. His whole body tightly bounced, his arms mobility limited by their size. He probably only got about 10 feet down the sidewalk when he stopped.
Here was a man whose lats were so enormous that they pushed his gargantuan 25” arms way out to his sides. His shoulders had this permanently rounded bowling-ball appearance. His neck had disappeared into the mounted mass of his bulging trap muscles. His butt was so huge it looked like two basket balls under those sweatpants, with the largest quads you could imagine. Jonas was a total muscle freak.
“I just keep gaining” Jonas said in between heavy breaths. “It’s getting harder and harder to do this stuff. I bet you someday you’ll know what this is like” Watching his massive chest rise and fall was downright hypnotic.
I couldn’t quite get what Jonas was trying to say with his last comment, how could he have known about my recent fantasies? I tried to respond on the positive side: “Well, you’re built like a tank. I guess that running is something you’ll have to give up. But I bet you’re the strongest man at your gym!!” I was clearly in awe of his size and he could tell.
“I am. I’ve been the strongest guy for months. The weights keep getting easier.” He replied without any sense of pride in his voice.
Jonas must have noticed I was bigger. I was still completely dwarfed by this guy, but he must have been able to tell how tight my shirts were getting. But he didn’t say a word about it. We continued our walk around the block and I just found myself getting hard looking at him saunter down the street. I had never been into freaky muscle dudes before, but now I was really into his size.
“I don’t get it. Why you’re so upset about being the biggest strongest guy in the Tri-State area?” I asked “I’d love to be your size.”
“Would you really want to be this big?” He asked sharply, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk in front of him.
“Yes I would.” Part of me was surprised by the frankness and confidence of my own response, I really did want it. I wanted to be as big as Jonas. It was finally dawning on me.
“Well, if you really want to be this size, you will get there.” He replied.
I sort of scoffed at his comment. Even with my recent gains, there was no way I could look like that freak for years and years. No matter what cycle Eric put me on.
Jonas and I talked for several hours that afternoon. I think we both enjoyed eating and talking together. He said things were becoming clearer to him. He had called his mom and dad and had even reconnected with a few friends over the phone, though they probably didn’t get a glimpse of his new size. I knew how anxious he was to show up at 340 lbs in front of his friends.
That afternoon I felt an attraction to Jonas for the first time, but I didn’t dare act on it. I guess I had a thing for troubled muscle-freak types.
It would be several more weeks before I’d see Jonas again. I went back to my routine that I had built for myself, Eric and I kept getting closer and closer, physically and emotionally. I hadn’t considered him a potential boyfriend when we first met, but now with all the time we spent together something was starting to take off between us. I guess he sort of became my man. And I became his man. And thank god, I needed someone to take my raging libido out on. Eric was the handsome muscle daddy I needed.
Eric also continued, at my behest, to take my photographs. I wanted that photo album like Jonas had. Soon I broke 190. It was a rush seeing the numbers go up on the scale every day, and soon after I hit 190 I started getting more attention. It was noticeable. Guys at the gay rugby matches I watched were suddenly asking me about when I was going to join their team. 190 lbs didn’t feel much different, my clothes were just getting small, but otherwise I didn’t feel big. But suddenly I was casually being called “big guy” and getting a lot of comments from friends. The photos showed some undeniable changes too. I was bulking up fast. I was getting broader and more muscular, no doubt about it, and I had the start of a big off the off-season look going for me.
The day I benched 185 for 10 I felt good about myself. I remember that. I was able to go up to 205 without much difficulty either. Eric bought me some XL shirts for me to “grow into”. He was always helping me, he did the injections too. I told him he should try this cycle himself, but he told me he’d rather see me grow. And I was happy to grow for him. It was clear my size gains were turning him on. We ever had a little celebration the day I broke 200 lbs. He was getting really turned on by my body and I loved it. Never before had I felt so sexy. Each pound was an exciting conquest. Each pound that seemed almost effortlessly pile onto my frame.
I was getting off on it too. I fantasized more and more about being as big as Jonas, hell maybe even bigger. I wanted it all, the mass, the strength, the freakiness. I wanted to fill a room with my size. I got off on imagining myself bigger. That was new. Eric seemed to get off on it too.
Every day brought more visible progress. I found myself looking and flexing in front of the mirror more and more often.. I loved how my shirts were getting tighter on my arms and how much meatier I felt. The stronger I got the stronger I wanted to get. I was starting to get competitive with Eric. I figured it wouldn’t be long before I caught up to his 275 lbs bench.
My eating didn’t slow down for a second. I just kept pounding that food day in and day out, ‘round the clock. It felt so satisfying too. It was making me into a new man, a huge man. The kind of freak I wanted to become.
When I hit 210 lbs I started to feel big. I felt bulky. My stride was changing. People didn’t even recognize me. My face had filled out a little and I decided to grow a beard, so that was understandable. I wanted to see Jonas. Ever since that last encounter with him I had become so turned on by the idea of being as large as he was. Now I wanted him to see me again, obviously bigger and on track to get so, so much larger.
When I did see him a week later I tipped the scales at 215 lbs. I was loving every minute of it. Then he opened the door and I saw that massive shirtless frame of his completely filling the doorframe. His eyes met mine and we both looked at each other with some surprise. He was enormous, hairy and oozing testosterone. He was nearly 360lbs now he said. Inhumanly massive. I was so overcome with lust that I just threw myself at him. He didn’t even push away. I found myself running my hands over his gargantuan arms and heavy, massively rounded, furry chest. I grasped and my hands over every corner of that hypermasculinized body, every muscular curve and bulge that I could reach. There was just so much of him. I don’t know how else to describe it. Just so much man pressed against me. To see and feel so much muscle flexing over me and under me. When he sprawled across his queen size bed he practically took up the whole thing. I was just on top of him, feeling his bulk while our lips were locked. His dick was so large and despite all the gear he was on and had been on for over a year, his balls were enormous. Must have been some good stuff he was cycling, I thought.
Jonas was too big to do anything but jerk off. How could we do anything else? Maybe if I were his size we would be able to do more. But it was an incredible rush. It was like living out some sex fantasy I hadn’t known I had. This overgrown, roid-blimped out bodybuilder who was totally into me, flexing his 25”+ arms while he jerked himself off... His inhumanly huge hairy pecs bulging and flexing with each motion. Fuck, thinking about that session still gets me hard.
I fell asleep on top of him. I couldn’t get enough. I wanted to cuddle but he was too big to be little spoon. We even tried. I could barely get my arms around his gigantic back. My hand only made it as far as the side of his left chest and his arm was so heavy, as it rested on mine, it put it asleep after only a minute. He was just so big.
I asked Jonas if his master would be ok with what we did. He didn’t really know. He figured his master had put the two of them into contact he might have expected us to fool around. But Master, he said, was a temperamental man.
Jonas went on to mention that things were starting to get clearer in his mind since the last time we had met up. He said he felt like the urges he had to lift and eat weren’t even his own anymore. Big changes were going to happen between him and his master, he felt. He said he knew he could use his size to get his way if he wanted, and he admitted that this really was a benefit to being as massive and strong as he was. He hinted that he was getting tired of taking orders from his master.
I thought about that for a minute and contemplated the nature of their relationship. Here was a submissive partner who could so completely physically overpower anyone. I thought for a minute- I wouldn’t want to be the master who got on Jonas’ final nerves.
When I got home later that night Eric was stomping around the house, furious about something. He what he was so mad about he didn't say. He refused to talk about it. All he did was eat and snap at me. I gave him some space. I wondered if he knew about Jonas and our dalliance? No, I had never told him about Jonas, there would be no way for him to know.