Clayton can’t fail

by Ziel   

In college, Clayton’s best friend far outpaced him in terms of size and strength, but Clayton was happy to serve as support in Rudy’s rise to the Olympics. After all, he’d never have the mass needed to play competitively on the world stage, right…?

Clayton was excited to be attending the Olympics—he really was. He just wished that he could have done so as a competitor and not a physician, but Clayton was never the burliest guy. The best he could hope to do was support those who had the natural aptitude and build to become big and beefy enough to play in the full-contact, cutthroat arena of competitive rugby.

Rudy, on the other hand, had it all. The looks, the speed, the muscles! Rudy was the biggest, beefiest guy on the team, and the target of Clayton’s affection. Clayton had never admitted as much, though. As far as Rudy knew, the two were just longtime friends. They hung out together in high school, and when Rudy got into college on an athletic scholarship, Clayton was right there with him earning his sports medicine degree.

Rudy had been fit in high school, but he really filled out in college. As the years progressed and the training grew more and more rigorous, Clayton could only stand by and watch as his buddy grew thicker and stronger with each passing month. It was hard to believe they were pretty similar in size back in high school. Clayton was fit, but he had always had a slim, slender build. What few muscles he managed to pack on never ballooned to the incredible proportions that his pal’s had, and as the difference between them grew more pronounced, Clayton felt his dreams of being big and beefy steadily fade to the background. He was content to be a kinda skinny guy. He was fine playing the nerdy assistant as long as he got to bask in the presence of the true muscle gods… or so he thought.

The games had awoken something within him long thought gone completely. The dudes back in college had been big and beefy, sure, but Rudy had been leagues bigger and better than any of them. Now that they were on the world stage, however, every single guy was as huge, and as hunky, and as hot as Rudy! It was maddening! Even their own team was now stacked with beefy Adonises as far as the eye could see! Every training session was buffet of brawn, and the locker room was a cavalcade of cock! Clayton had never been so happy or so horny!

As the games continued, their team eventually made it to the semi-finals, and by this time, Clayton’s hormones had reached a fever pitch. He was beyond blue balled. Even outside the locker rooms, there was no escape from the hotness. The games themselves were a spectacle of meat slapping against meat.

The team had eked out a victory in the semis, but signs weren’t good for the finals. A handful of injuries had left their roster looking sparse. Yet, despite this, Rudy looked confident as he led the team on a victory march to the locker rooms. As was the custom, the team was completely shirtless by the time they made it off the field, and as they made their way down the hallway that led from the field to the locker rooms, their shorts soon followed. By the time they entered the locker room, it was a parade of nearly nude muscle gods clad in just bulging jock straps.

Clayton had meant to pull Rudy aside and discuss strategy and go over the injury reports with the team captain as soon as he had come into the locker room, but as soon as he stepped towards his friend, his brain short-circuited from the sight of all those muscles and men!

Whether Rudy misinterpreted Clayton’s arrival or was just trolling his old pal was unclear and ultimately irrelevant. The end result was the same. Rudy just smirked at his nearly catatonic pal and turned towards the rest of the team and announced, “looks like the laundry service is here!”

With that, Rudy stepped out of his strap, and added it to the pile of sweat and turf-stained clothes and shoved the damp rags into Clayton’s arms. Clayton’s brain was already shorting out and his cock was already throbbing with just Clayton’s beefy, nude bod on display, but soon his eyes were treated to a procession of huge, hunky, nude dudes dumping their sweat-soaked rags in his arms. Clayton could only stand there in silent awe at the show he was being treated to. It was like his brain had diverted all processing power to simply ogling each and every last dude and dong.

Eventually, the last of the players made their way into the locker room and handed off their gear for Clayton to deal with. Clayton was left standing there in silence while his brain buffered and his cock ached. He was beyond boned. The front of his shorts was as soaked as the sweat rags he now held in his arms. Pre seeped through his shorts and dribbled down his legs.

Clayton was barely even coherent. All he knew was that he couldn’t stay there. He was dangerously close to cumming, and the last thing he needed was for the team to spot him holding their clothes with jizz dripping down his legs.

Clayton turned and robotically marched towards the equipment room. He looked like he had been hypnotized, and maybe he had. The sight of those beefy bods and hot rods had overwhelmed him, and the smell coming from their discarded clothes was doing things to him he had never thought possible.

Clayton pushed his way through to the equipment room and was just about to dump the armload of clothes into the rolling laundry bin when suddenly he balked. He was just so horny. He needed release… and the team never had to know…

Clayton threw the armload of clothes onto the floor and flopped onto them as if they were a sleeping bag at a slumber party. He could feel the heat and humidity rising from the garments. He could smell the scent of sweat and cock and balls filling his nostrils. It was as if his hands knew more than he did, his fingers instinctively picked out the strap belonging to his best bud, Rudy. It wasn’t just the size of it. There was more to it than that. It was something instinctive deep within him that helped him pick it out. He had been crushing on Rudy so long that Clayton could pick the guy out by scent alone.

Clayton couldn’t stop himself. In one hand, he held a pair of rugby shorts and in the other he held his buddy’s jock. He lifted the damp jock to his face and breathed deep in the potent musk. Meanwhile, his other hand reached down and awkwardly fished his cock out from beneath his waistband. While he breathed deep of his crush’s scent, he used the pair of shorts he had swiped to grip his dick and passionately began to stroke the shaft.

There was a tinge of sadness as he felt his hand wrap around his own cock. His dick was nowhere near as big or as thick as Rudy’s. Clayton tried to act like it didn’t get to it, but it was yet another way in which he didn’t measure up to his friend. Rudy had it all—the build, the brawn, the cock! Clayton wished he could be so huge, so handsome, so hung!

Clayton continued to stroke his cock and bask in the fumes. As he did so some part of his brain began to play out a fantasy in which his cock was bigger than it was before. The discarded shorts that he was using as a cum-sock gave the illusion that the rod was thicker than it really was which just helped to sell Clayton on the illusion that he was stroking a fat, juicy cock—his fat, juicy cock.

At some point, Clayton gave up on holding the jock to his face. His hand drifted down towards his chest and began to play with the subtle mounds of his own pecs. Clayton worked out. He tried his hardest at the gym, but he had never obtained the immense muscles that came so naturally to Rudy. Still… in his hormone addled haze, Clayton could pretend that his meager mounds were thick, swollen pecs.

Perhaps it was the extra layer of his shirt giving his chest a false sense of firmness, but his pecs felt bigger and thicker in his hand. Could it be? Had his chest grown? Had he finally begun to bulk up? Clayton knew it was impossible, but he let himself pretend all the same. He wanted to be bigger. He wanted to be stronger. He wanted to be huge and hung!

As he continued to stroke his cock and feel his pecs, he marveled at how thick both felt in his hand. His cock, which formerly felt like gripping a wii-mote now felt like gripping one of those tall, thick cans of Arizona tea. His pecs, which formerly felt like meager lumps now felt like dense slabs of brawn.

Clayton lost himself in the illusion. His hand drifted lower. As he traced a path down across his thick, swollen pecs, his fingers ran along his midriff. He felt the lower hem of his shirt as his fingers slid past his upper row of abs towards his exposed belly button.

Clayton thought this strange. For a brief moment, his scientific curiosity nearly overrode his arousal and excitement. His shirt had been form-fitting before. It was snug, but hardly what he would call tight. Now, however, it felt like a second skin. It strained audibly against the swelling mass of brawn contained beneath. The lower hem of his shirt now barely reached past his first row of abs. It was now more of a crop top than a polo. How was this possible? Had his shirt shrunk on him? Clayton couldn’t tell, and he was too lost in his hormonal haze to care. Even if it was all in his head he wanted to grow, and grow, and grow!

Clayton reached down and gripped his fat cock with both hands. It was so huge and so thick that he couldn’t even wrap a fist fully around it. The thing had to be thicker than his wrist! How was the possible!? Whatever the case, it was hot as hell! This knew knowledge that his dick was thicker than the fleshlight he used back home got him somehow even hornier!

As he pumped his cock loud, low moans escaped his lips. The sound of his own moans almost drowned out the sound of the fabric of his clothes straining and popping… almost. Clayton could hear them as well as feel it. His clothes were so tight that they were nearly suffocating him, but with each audible pop from his stitching, he felt the pressure on his chest and quads abate. Soon, however, the gentle popping was replaced with a loud, wrenching shred. His quads had grown so massive and meaty that his thighs had shredded clear through his shorts! The stitching along the inseam had burst completely! His shorts were now little more than a loincloth, and his shirt wasn’t in any better condition.

Clayton opened his eyes for what felt like the first time in ages and stared down at his own body in shock. He was huge! He was easily bigger than Rudy and then some! His cock alone was longer than his forearm and as thick as his neck! Two massive, heavy soccer ball sized stones hung heavily beneath his thick, towering shaft. His pecs were now two, massive, meaty mounds of pure brawn. Either enormous tit was as thick as an extra-firm, king-sized memory foam pillow! His abs were so huge that each individual lump of his now eight-pack abs was as large as a football! His quads were as thick as tree trunks. His biceps bulged out like basketballs!

How had he gotten so huge? How much bigger would he get? Clayton didn’t know the answer to either of these questions and didn’t much care to answer the first one. All that mattered was he was huge now, and he wanted more!

Clayton grabbed his swelling cock with both hands and stroked the immense shaft. His dick was now so huge that he couldn’t even hope to wrap his hands around it. The head alone was as large as a basketball. It was so thick that it was like trying to throttle an incredibly firm body pillow.

“More… more… more…!” Clayton moaned to himself as he continued to pump his growing cock. As he gripped his dick, his lats flared out causing the seams along the sides of his shirt to burst like a blown-out tire. His shirt was now little more than a bib. It did nothing to cover the sheer enormity of his massive, brawny pecs.

Clayton wanted more, but despite this, he knew he was reaching his limit. He was so close to cumming. His nuts tensed. His cock shuddered. His immense muscles flexed. His whole body trembled with his need to cream. Clayton clenched his eyes shut. He threw his head back, and he roared with ecstasy. His cock bucked and lurched. Thick ropes of cum erupted from the top of the massive, meaty spire that was his own enormous cock.

Clayton came and came again. The sheer, orgasmic bliss of cumming literal gallons of cum from a cock that was almost as thick as even his immensely, beefy body was so overwhelming that his brain short circuited. Everything went white, and as the massive spurts of spooge steadily tapered off, the electric rush of growth was replaced with a almost numbing tingle of post-climax euphoria.

Clayton lay there for what felt like hours just basking in the afterglow. The cum that pooled around his now fully naked body steadily cooled. Clayton would have been happy to just lie there forever had it not been for the sound of the door creaking open.

“Hey, Clay… you in here?” Came the voice.

Even had Clayton not recognized the voice, it would have been hard to mistake the nickname. It was Rudy.

Rudy stepped into the equipment room and gasped as his eyes fell upon the now totally naked form of his longtime friend. Clayton was nearly unrecognizable. Sure, his face was the same, but everything else was not, and as Clayton groggily staggered back to his feet, the true extent of his changes became apparent.

Clayton now stood a good head taller than Rudy, but his height was the least shocking part of his growth. Rudy was a big buy. He knew that he was tall and muscular. Even on the world stage it was rare to see people bigger than him, but Clayton was simply massive! Even just his enormous rows of abs were as wide across as Rudy’s entire body! Clayton’s broad, burly shoulders were easily twice as wide as Rudy’s own! Rudy’s shoulders brushed the sides of the doorway as he stepped through into the supply room, but Clayton would need to squeeze through sideways to have even a chance of getting through! Each massive pectoral had as much muscular mass in it as Rudy’s whole body! Even Clayton’s quads were as thick as Rudy’s midriff, and that was saying nothing for the immense piece of meat that dangled between. Clayton’s cock was so huge that the head rested solidly on the ground at his feet, and that was even after draping up and over the massive sack that now hung heavily between his legs. His balls now hung to nearly his ankles. Either enormous sphere rivaled the size of a trendy bean bag couch! As Rudy stared up in awe at his towering, hulking friend, his look of slack-jawed awe slowly gave way to a huge, toothy grin.

“I was going to ask you to look at some of our injured to see if any could make the next game, but it looks like we just found our new back fill,” Rudy said.

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