Bulking (from the journal of Steve) - Part 1
by ProteanMuse
(1/13/12)
I've been having trouble containing myself lately, so I thought I'd write some stuff down. Before I get into what's happening, I want to make it clear that I'm not a bad person. I'm not controlling and manipulative by nature. This is just a special circumstance, okay? Just try not to judge me too much. Anyway, some background for my plan:
Alex and I are both in our sophomore year at college. We hung out freshman year so it was natural for us to room together this year. He was one of the first guys I came out to at school—totally cool with it, hence the current room arrangements. Of course, I never told him that I had a little bit of a crush on him.
Only physical attraction, mind you, nothing too serious. And who could help that? He has a great body, to be frank. He's 6' and normally 200 pounds of lean muscle. Alex has a sculpted physique with pecs that are a little imposing and biceps that threaten to give me a hard-on every time he flexes. He normally has a drool-inducing six-pack. But the past few months he's been bulking, gaining weight. He's up to 220 pounds but he's still got a faint four-pack.
I love the way his clothes fit him now. His shirts, especially a red one from a university volunteer event, stretch across his back and hug his meaty chest. His jeans bulge out a bit from his increased quad size. Fabric tugs and bunches in all the right places. Did I mention I love how he looks now?
Alex is a pretty quiet guy normally, but I was able to coax his workout plan from him one night (I go to the campus gym occasionally, so I used that to start the conversation). He told me he's ready to start cutting now, loosing fat that he gained along with the new mass, but he will probably lose a little muscle in the process.
I didn't like to hear this. Judging by every bulging item of clothing, bigger is better as far as things are concerned with Alex's body. I'm 5'9" but even the short height difference turns me on a little. And this added size, that really gets me going on nights when I have the dorm to myself.
So I've devised a plan. I am in the process of researching everything I can about bulking in bodybuilding. Specifically how important calories and protein are. And Alex, he eats back at the room most of the time since we have a microwave and he prepares his food ahead of time (which is a bodybuilder thing from what I've read). So maybe, from time to time, some protein powder might get mixed into Alex's food. I don't want his bulking to end.
(1/20/12)
Well, it's been one interesting week. Saturday I bought some protein powder from Walmart and started mixing it into Alex's meals. Already something has happened! Alex told me he's gained a pound this week, despite cutting back on food. I claim this as a small victory (hopefully the first of many). I was worried about Alex noticing the powder, but it must have mixed into his soups and sauces pretty well.
I asked Alex if he had changed anything in his workout that could cause the gain. He admitted that he's never really pushed himself before (could have fooled me—he's so ripped I always assumed he spent most of his free time in the gym), but now he's increasing the frequency of his workouts. He's adding more cardio, too.
Hopefully that won't be too effective, or I'll have to increase his dosages.
(1/27/12)
Another Friday, another pound gained. I like the way things are shaping up. And I can't wait to see how Alex shapes up.
(2/8/12)
A week and a half has passed and like clockwork, Alex has gained an additional one and a half pounds. He's getting dismayed at what he perceives to be a lack of results. Told me he's really upping his cardio. That means more protein will need to be laced into his food. I might try mixing it in water and coating stuff like the lean chicken and steak he eats. Thankfully, he's still eating a fair amount to try and keep his metabolism up. I'm fine with that, so long as he keeps gaining weight.
There's no visible difference yet, but I get so hard just thinking about what I'm doing to him. He wore a muscle shirt to work out yesterday and came back with veins running down his biceps. His arms are thicker than they were before he bulked and as I watched him change into regular clothes for the night, I made myself promise to do whatever it takes to prevent those precious muscles from shrinking.
Part 2
(2/17/12)
Something really awesome happened the other day. Alex was getting ready for class in the morning, and as I stole glances at his thick legs in slightly-tighter boxers, he pulled his jeans up. But he ran into a problem. When he went to button his fly, he was caught. Carefully, I swiveled around in my chair, pretending to look for something on my dresser so I could get a better view.
It was fantastic. His glutes and thighs are seriously getting ripped from all that running, and his ass had grown enough that he was having trouble with his pants. While they didn't cause problems, his thighs were very visible in their denim casings, bulging out and forward. And of course, his abs stuck out just a little farther from the gains, which didn't help.
I felt myself getting stiff and quickly swiveled back to my desk.
"Damn pants barely fit," I heard him grunt as he managed to button his jeans.
While he was away at his first class, I began poking around internet forums for the quickest way to gain muscle. I came across a Chinese supplement that had some guys swearing by it—those who managed to get some of it, at least—as well as various hormones and anabolics. The only thing slowing me down is that shady websites don't take PayPal.
(2/25/12)
Alex informed me last time we worked out that he was over 225 pounds now. I relish my modest success in engineering actual change in someone. He also admitted that he's trying a weight loss supplement in lieu of cutting too many calories and loosing muscle. His pants getting tighter was his main motivator.
This supplement is, to my joy, a powder. After he used it the first day, I clandestinely replaced most of the contents with the semi-legal supplement I received in the mail. I'm also looking into ways to sneak some steroids into his food. What can I say? Success is addictive.
Yesterday, the second day he used the supplement, he commented that it tasted different. But I think he'll overlook it since every dose but the first tastes that way—hopefully write it off as being dependent on whatever he mixed it in.
(3/4/12)
Holy shit. My wildest dreams have come true. In the span of ten days Alex has, despite working his ass off, gained 5 pounds! My heart is racing just thinking about it. And oh my, does it show on him!
Now, his t-shirts' sleeves ride up his arms from the size of his biceps and triceps. They cover barely anything past his swollen shoulders. And his stomach—something about it getting a little bigger really turned me on the past week. In a particularly tight white shirt he wears to workout, it shows, causing tiny stretches in the fabric along his waist, while his chest now really pops in it, nipples visibly pressing up against the material. The other day at the gym, soaked in sweat so that it was translucent, it almost looked like it would rip at the seams! I can only dream—for now.
Alex has given up on most of his jeans—not only are his ass and waist too big, but his quads make the denim look painted on and even his calves press out against the pant legs.
Oh God. This is heaven.
(3/12/12)
Monday morning. Alex struggles to slide the long sleeves of his sweater over his blown-up biceps. Have they gained an inch or two? He's got to be at least 235, maybe close to 240 by now. He slides the shirt down his buff torso. It stops an inch from his sweat pants, giving a fleeting glimpse of the hair at the bottom what is left of his abs.
"I'm really having a tough time losing weight," he confesses, brow furrowed. "That fat-burner does not seem to be doing anything."
"Maybe it takes some time?" I ask innocently.
"But I'm actually gaining weight, Steve. Emily told me the other night when I stayed over that I was getting 'too big'."
"That's a shame," I muse, "That she can't appreciate the mass you have."
"What are you talking about, man?" Alex stares me down with his brown eyes. I guess what I said was sort of weird, now that I think about it.
"It's just that you're still a pretty fit guy. Ripped, even."
"Not for long at the rate I'm going."
"Well," I slowed my words so as not to seem eager, "have you considered that some of the weight could be muscle?"
"I guess. I don't know… Listen, I might have to skip our workout tonight. I'm taking Emily out to eat to make up for her being a bit turned off. There's this great all-you-can-eat buffet uptown that…" He trailed off, visibly hungry as he rubbed his stomach. One of the things I had been feeding him increased appetite. It was working. And Alex, much as I like him, is not the brightest bulb—a buffet is the last place he should go. But the best place he can go.
(3/13/12)
He came home late last night after the dinner with his girlfriend. I was reading in bed, but nearly dropped my book when I saw him.
"Dude, I'm stuffed," he said. "I know I'm trying to lose weight but the food was so good. Chicken and beef and macoronni and cheese… good stuff."
He was visibly bloated. Every bend of his arms made the fabric of the nice button down shirt he had on bunch up as it stretched around his arms. His stomach pushed out the bottom of his shirt above dress pants—perhaps the last pair of non-sweat pants that fit him that morning—with the belt and button undone. And something was off about the way he was walking. There was a slight waddle in his step. But his chest—oh his chest! His pectorals stretched the buttons out—the fabric bowed away from each button, straining as it curved back. His lats pushed out behind him, pulling the shirt tighter with each breath. The shirt had vertical stripes that bent outward form his bulging form.
And then it happened. Pop! One button, in the middle of his chest snapped off. Pop! Pop! Two more followed. His chest noticeably pressed out, free from the confines of the material, and I could see the school logo on his shirt underneath distorted by both solid masses of muscle.
It took every ounce of self-control not to come on the spot.
"Oh, man. What the hell?" he asked, in a bit of a stupor from his binge eating.
"I'm sure it was…" I couldn't think of what to say. I was filled with lust and satisfaction but I had to keep my cool. I sat back down in bed, hiding my throbbing erection as best as I could. "It was a small shirt, that's all…"
"Dude?" he moaned, rubbing his distended belly, "What's going on with me?"